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infamousmonkey-cat · 6 months

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I wasn't gonna do a reaction post this week for reasons that will probably become obvious but then I was annoyed at myself for not doing one yesterday, because I would have felt like SUCH a smartie pants for predicting that Ed was gonna fish up one of the bottles, and now I just have to hope that you will believe me that I did predict that in the privacy of my own mind (though I owe it all to that one post from weeks ago that was like "what if a fisherman found the bottles" so I can't really take credit but ANYWAY). But yeah thoughts below cut

This got kind of absurdly long whoops. Also I am inevitably going to say stuff that people disagree with but man I am begging you to be gentle with me. I am just trying to work through some of my feelings about the show and other people are going to have different feelings and that is FINE and nobody is under attack here and there is room for different opinions peace and love

Quick disclaimer: I haven't been reading a ton of meta or diving into the tag or anything, so if I say something wildly off about the fandom response at any point, it's based on vibes from what's been on my dash and I may have got the wrong end of the stick there.

I'll go ep by ep for the most part but this point applies to both eps, so I'll dive in first: I seem to be in a minority within the more active parts of the fandom in that I truly do not have strong feelings about Izzy one way or the other. I do personally feel that his characterisation in season two is not consistent with that in season one, HOWEVER 1) I have not expended a ton of mental energy on doing a deep dive into his s1 characterisation, so I'm willing to believe I've missed stuff [not actually convinced of this but don't care enough to put my foot down about it] and 2) it simply does not bother me. I consider Izzy to be a secondary character that they've decided to somewhat retool in between seasons, and I am basically fine with it. You know who else is different this season? Jim! It seems pretty obvious to me that the development of BOTH these characters is due to the influence of the actors, and honestly, that happens in TV. I DO understand people's frustration that a character who espoused views and behaviours that were fundamentally at odds with the whole moral premise of the show has been rehabilitated so easily, buuuut... I don't personally want a version of this show where Izzy's rehabilitation arc is given tons of screen time, either, so I am okay with just accepting it. ALSO, this s2 version of his character--while not necessarily feeling entirely earned--is considerably more fun to me! I'm really enjoying his bitchy little one-liners and his drag act and whatever. To make a comparison, I did see some complaints early on that Oluwande's relationship with Zheng felt rushed, but to me they fully sold it with their performances: it was easy to read between the lines that there had been a growing attraction between them for a while. Point being, I think we need to be okay with allowing some of the secondary character/relationship development to be elided, because it is not necessarily a priority to have it all put on screen in front of us.

Anyway, moving on to ep 6: I don't have a huge amount to say about the bulk of this episode. For the most part I really enjoyed it. I think Ned Low is a great send-up of the monologuing villain with a lot of psychosexual baggage, and I loved the way that was resolved. I'm probably the only person in the world who didn't already know this, but I looked up Hellcat Maggie because the name rang a bell, and she was a member of the Irish-American Dead Rabbits Gang in the 1800s, which was also known as the Mulberry Boys, and their enemies were the supporters of the anti-immigration Know Nothing party. Supposedly she used to file her teeth down to points. I am not making any of this up. [Bob Dylan voice] Go home and look it up on WIKIPEDIA*

Anyway: the party planning/coconut shack date, Calypso's Birthday and the Ned Low showdown all worked great for me. Some of the stuff--Ed shoving Stede behind him and begging Ned to torture him instead--was honestly a LITTLE bit tropey for my tastes, but hey, they're classics for a reason. I kind of think it would have been interesting to see the opposite dynamic (though of course we do see Stede trying to protect Ed in his own way later in the episode): we've already seen this kind of thing from Ed back in 1x09 with the British, so a role reversal might have been a bit more interesting to me (since this season has been so much about role reversal), but like this is a very minor niggle.

I think that Stede's disposal of Ned worked narratively and wasn't inconsistent with his character (I get the vibe that some people think it was?), and I think that Ned's line about Stede being a "pet" and Ed only liking him for his "bumbling amateur status" was some really rich stuff (and a callback to the QAR crew's description of Ed and Stede's relationship back in 1x06). And of course the whole "pet" motif has been running through season two as well: Stede's callback to doggy heaven, Ed's cat bell, even Wolf the bunny. There's something really interesting there, but I don't know if there's enough time left in the season to really get to grips with it?

Moving on to the sex scene: here I seem to be a bit out of step with my own small fandom circle, because I had mixed feelings at best about this. I've seen the argument that the show was obviously framing it as being romantic, with the fireworks etc.; I guess that's what bothers me about it, because to me it was so obviously... off. To be clear, I don't think it was in any way non-consensual or anything like that, and hey, the kiss, out of context? Amazing! But IN context--Stede has JUST had his first real kill, which has been framed by the narrative and the other characters as a big deal. Also framed as a big deal: Ed asking to take things slow in ep 5. Ed comes to Stede to "talk things through", and brings up his own most significant trauma--the death of his father (right after we saw a super quick flashback to some of Stede's own dad-related trauma)--and Stede cuts him off with a forceful kiss. To me, it feels kind of obvious that their first sexual encounter is being linked with violence and childhood trauma in a way that is not, like, fun or sexy or romantic TO ME, regardless of how the rest of the scene is shot and intercut (which is not me making a moral judgment on anyone else's feelings about this scene; just stating my own emotional reaction to it). IF the show wants us to find this hot/romantic, then it didn't work for me and I found it jarring. If the show wanted us to find this kind of destabilising and compromised, then it worked for me but I feel like we deserved better!

SO. Episode 7. I'm just going to be super upfront right at the top: this episode really bummed me out and I didn't like it. Not saying I hated every minute of it or that nothing worked for me, but overall I didn't enjoy it. I saw on the official OFMD Instagram account's stories a couple of days ago some footage from one of those preview screenings they did of these episodes in a cinema or whatever. The MC was like "how about those episodes!" and I remember thinking, "wow, the audience seems kind of weirdly muted". Well now I get it! I would have been too!

I've seen people saying that Ed panicking and running off to become a fisherman is a mirror to Stede panicking and running back to his wife in 1x09, which does track, but I actually think that the symmetry here is multivalent, and there are also echoes of 1x08, which for the record is my most hated episode of season one that I can almost not bear to rewatch--not because I think the WRITING is bad but just because it is a little bit too real for me, in terms of situations I've been in where someone I care about who supposedly cares for me lets the worst person in the world treat me really badly, picks them over me and then acts like it never happened and expects me to just be fine with it? I DON'T LIKE THAT!

So yeah, listen, I always felt like Ed leaving with Jack at the end of 1x08 and then immediately coming back was kind of a double beat, or even a triple beat. We already had him threatening to leave and then changing his mind in the previous episode, and then we have STEDE leaving in the following episode, so I always felt like it sat a little bit oddly for me. I do think it's an important and enlightening episode in terms of Ed's character and in revealing some of the underlying issues in their relationship that they need to address (plus giving us yet another flavour of toxic masculinity), but I don't know, it has always bugged me a little bit even beyond the fact that it is just too personally painful for me to enjoy.

Slight detour here--I'm gonna bring it back--to say that, while I am more glad than sorry that we have had so much BTS and promo stuff for the finale, it does create a little bit of a sense of inevitability to proceedings that undercuts any dramatic tension? Like, I feel like we can fairly confidently put together the beats of at least the first act of next week's episode. Those being: Ed has left, he is in a rowboat, he realises that Stede is in trouble--under attack from the British no less!--and heroically turns back to save his true love. So--basically the end of 1x08 again.

As much as I have been enjoying the narrative symmetry thus far, it's in 2x07 that it starts to feel forced, for me. While I can totally buy that Ed starts to regret the sex for all the reasons I mentioned above (though to be clear I don't think he regrets it until later), and that he's uncomfortable with Stede getting drunk and rowdy and playing into a pirate archetype that Ed wants to leave behind (all of this ALSO mirrors/reverses Stede and Ed in 1x08 btw), the idea that he would decide to leave forever to be a fisherman? This is the same guy who spent the first three episodes of the season totally inconsolable because Stede left him, and regained the will to live because of a vision of Stede? And now he's just voluntarily leaving forever because of one conflict? I... guess this accords with Ed's previous behaviour in 1x08, but again, that's always kind of bugged me. I don't know, man, I know they need to set up the big romantic beach reunion scene, but I feel like they could have had Ed go off fishing to clear his head after an argument instead, and that would have felt a bit easier to swallow for me. Sure, not as dramatic, but more believable.

So, this brings me to something about the show that I am starting to find a little bit disappointing, which is that... I feel like it keeps undercutting moments of tenderness and queer joy! It didn't bother me so much in season one, I think just because the show was such a breath of fresh air in so many ways. But now, having committed to being the queer pirate show and playing into that in the marketing and kind of rebranding the whole identity of the show as being a queer love story (which is always WAS but wasn't initially marketed as), I kind of feel like there's a promise inherent in that. And yet again and again I feel like we're getting the rug pulled out from under us. Like--Stede's beautiful love confession in 2x04 being immediately mocked by Anne and Mary (I know people love Anne and Mary but honestly it was getting a little too close to Calico Jack territory for me at times). Like the sex scene feeling (to me) weirdly compromised. Like Ned Low attacking the Revenge before Ed and Stede can dance together! Like Ed deciding to cut and run, AGAIN, at the slightest sign of trouble. And I know it's going to get resolved next week, and I feel like the release schedule for this season (not to mention only getting eight eps obviously) has been to its detriment. I understand why they felt like they needed to put out episode three in the first week because our guys don't even share the screen until then, but I think 2x07 MIGHT have felt a lot more palatable if it had gone out with the finale instead. I also think 2x03 and 2x04 going out together might have felt like a more natural pairing, and would have meant that I was not overwhelmed with misery after the first three eps (actually I still would have been overwhelmed with misery because of stuff in my real life but like, LESS so maybe). Although getting to savour the 2x03 end scene for a whole week was pretty great, and ditto 2x05, so maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

Anyway. 2x07 felt really off to me, primarily in the characterisation of both Ed and Izzy, but also somewhat in the showdown between Zheng and Stede. I could understand it more if I felt that s2 had done a lot of work to establish that Stede is straying towards playing into a toxically masculine pirate archetype, but I think there are really only two times (prior to this ep) where this happens: the (dream sequence) opening of 2x01 and the third act of 2x06. Otherwise, we've seen him being really good at customer service, embracing the "tender" label from Zheng and fitting in with the Red Flag girls, counselling Lucius, saving his crew after the mutiny despite his heart being broken, bonding with Izzy, serving cunt in a cursed new suit, defusing the situation with Ned (until he didn't)--basically Stede has been really GAY this season? Like I honestly felt like THAT was the way he had swung, not towards performing violence and hypermasculinity. So Zheng's dressing down, while maybe working in the context of the scene or even the whole episode, doesn't feel well-integrated into Stede's season 2 arc to me.

Look, I'm going to leave it there. I know this is long-winded and rambling and I fully lost track of time and missed the window to use my Early Bird chest on Duolingo. I doubt anyone will read this whole thing. I just needed to get some stuff off my chest I guess.

*Anyone on Dylan twitter gets this reference!! There's tons of crossover between tumblr OFMD fandom and Dylan twitter, RIGHT? Anyway it was a thing he said in the outro to 'Goodbye Jimmy Reed' at a concert the other night. It was funny because of his dramatic delivery of the word 'Wikipedia' followed by him immediately running out of momentum and mumbling "Wikipedia" again with zero confidence. It was some nice late-career Dylan stage banter. I went to see him around this time last year and man this R&RW tour is great, even though I saw it in a pretty bad venue. The best time I ever saw Dylan was at the Brixton Academy, he played the intro to 'London Calling', it was electric. The first time I saw him was at the NEC arena in Birmingham and it was kind of a letdown but I have fond memories of it anyway, I went with my dad. I was talking to this bartender the other week about seeing your heroes live and honestly it made me realise that I haven't been to any live music in way too long! I'm happy to say that I got to see Bobby Womack perform live right before he died--actually technically I didn't SEE him, you see I was volunteering at Latitude and the bar was perpendicular to the stage. However I COULD hear him. One time I saw Nick Cave live and a woman standing behind me fainted on me! It was pretty stressful but I'm still glad I can say I saw Nick Cave live you know what I mean? The dream would be to see David Byrne but I doubt I could afford it... maybe it'll happen who knows

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #this is nearly 3000 words long and some of it is just about different concerts i have been to #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT #dear diary today i had a lot of feelings

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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The Green Knight and Medieval Metatextuality: An Essay

Right, so. Finally watched it last night, and I’ve been thinking about it literally ever since, except for the part where I was asleep. As I said to fellow medievalist and admirer of Dev Patel @oldshrewsburyian, it’s possibly the most fascinating piece of medieval-inspired media that I’ve seen in ages, and how refreshing to have something in this genre that actually rewards critical thought and deep analysis, rather than me just fulminating fruitlessly about how popular media thinks that slapping blood, filth, and misogyny onto some swords and castles is “historically accurate.” I read a review of TGK somewhere that described it as the anti-Game of Thrones, and I’m inclined to think that’s accurate. I didn’t agree with all of the film’s tonal, thematic, or interpretative choices, but I found them consistently stylish, compelling, and subversive in ways both small and large, and I’m gonna have to write about it or I’ll go crazy. So. Brace yourselves.

(Note: My PhD is in medieval history, not medieval literature, and I haven’t worked on SGGK specifically, but I am familiar with it, its general cultural context, and the historical influences, images, and debates that both the poem and the film referenced and drew upon, so that’s where this meta is coming from.)

First, obviously, while the film is not a straight-up text-to-screen version of the poem (though it is by and large relatively faithful), it is a multi-layered meta-text that comments on the original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the archetypes of chivalric literature as a whole, modern expectations for medieval films, the hero’s journey, the requirements of being an “honorable knight,” and the nature of death, fate, magic, and religion, just to name a few. Given that the Arthurian legendarium, otherwise known as the Matter of Britain, was written and rewritten over several centuries by countless authors, drawing on and changing and hybridizing interpretations that sometimes challenged or outright contradicted earlier versions, it makes sense for the film to chart its own path and make its own adaptational decisions as part of this multivalent, multivocal literary canon. Sir Gawain himself is a canonically and textually inconsistent figure; in the movie, the characters merrily pronounce his name in several different ways, most notably as Sean Harris/King Arthur’s somewhat inexplicable “Garr-win.” He might be a man without a consistent identity, but that’s pointed out within the film itself. What has he done to define himself, aside from being the king’s nephew? Is his quixotic quest for the Green Knight actually going to resolve the question of his identity and his honor – and if so, is it even going to matter, given that successful completion of the “game” seemingly equates with death?

Likewise, as the anti-Game of Thrones, the film is deliberately and sometimes maddeningly non-commercial. For an adaptation coming from a studio known primarily for horror, it almost completely eschews the cliché that gory bloodshed equals authentic medievalism; the only graphic scene is the Green Knight’s original beheading. The violence is only hinted at, subtextual, suspenseful; it is kept out of sight, around the corner, never entirely played out or resolved. In other words, if anyone came in thinking that they were going to watch Dev Patel luridly swashbuckle his way through some CGI monsters like bad Beowulf adaptations of yore, they were swiftly disappointed. In fact, he seems to spend most of his time being wet, sad, and failing to meet the moment at hand (with a few important exceptions).

The film unhurriedly evokes a medieval setting that is both surreal and defiantly non-historical. We travel (in roughly chronological order) from Anglo-Saxon huts to Romanesque halls to high-Gothic cathedrals to Tudor villages and half-timbered houses, culminating in the eerie neo-Renaissance splendor of the Lord and Lady’s hall, before returning to the ancient trees of the Green Chapel and its immortal occupant: everything that has come before has now returned to dust. We have been removed even from imagined time and place and into a moment where it ceases to function altogether. We move forward, backward, and sideways, as Gawain experiences past, present, and future in unison. He is dislocated from his own sense of himself, just as we, the viewers, are dislocated from our sense of what is the “true” reality or filmic narrative; what we think is real turns out not to be the case at all. If, of course, such a thing even exists at all.

This visual evocation of the entire medieval era also creates a setting that, unlike GOT, takes pride in rejecting absolutely all political context or Machiavellian maneuvering. The film acknowledges its own cultural ubiquity and the question of whether we really need yet another King Arthur adaptation: none of the characters aside from Gawain himself are credited by name. We all know it’s Arthur, but he’s listed only as “king.” We know the spooky druid-like old man with the white beard is Merlin, but it’s never required to spell it out. The film gestures at our pre-existing understanding; it relies on us to fill in the gaps, cuing us to collaboratively produce the story with it, positioning us as listeners as if we were gathered to hear the original poem. Just like fanfiction, it knows that it doesn’t need to waste time introducing every single character or filling in ultimately unnecessary background knowledge, when the audience can be relied upon to bring their own.

As for that, the film explicitly frames itself as a “filmed adaptation of the chivalric romance” in its opening credits, and continues to play with textual referents and cues throughout: telling us where we are, what’s happening, or what’s coming next, rather like the rubrics or headings within a medieval manuscript. As noted, its historical/architectural references span the entire medieval European world, as does its costume design. I was particularly struck by the fact that Arthur and Guinevere’s crowns resemble those from illuminated monastic manuscripts or Eastern Orthodox iconography: they are both crown and halo, they confer an air of both secular kingship and religious sanctity. The question in the film’s imagined epilogue thus becomes one familiar to Shakespeare’s Henry V: heavy is the head that wears the crown. Does Gawain want to earn his uncle’s crown, take over his place as king, bear the fate of Camelot, become a great ruler, a husband and father in ways that even Arthur never did, only to see it all brought to dust by his cowardice, his reliance on unscrupulous sorcery, and his unfulfilled promise to the Green Knight? Is it better to have that entire life and then lose it, or to make the right choice now, even if it means death?

Likewise, Arthur’s kingly mantle is Byzantine in inspiration, as is the icon of the Virgin Mary-as-Theotokos painted on Gawain’s shield (which we see broken apart during the attack by the scavengers). The film only glances at its religious themes rather than harping on them explicitly; we do have the cliché scene of the male churchmen praying for Gawain’s safety, opposite Gawain’s mother and her female attendants working witchcraft to protect him. (When oh when will I get my film that treats medieval magic and medieval religion as the complementary and co-existing epistemological systems that they were, rather than portraying them as diametrically binary and disparagingly gendered opposites?) But despite the interim setbacks borne from the failure of Christian icons, the overall resolution of the film could serve as the culmination of a medieval Christian morality tale: Gawain can buy himself a great future in the short term if he relies on the protection of the enchanted green belt to avoid the Green Knight’s killing stroke, but then he will have to watch it all crumble until he is sitting alone in his own hall, his children dead and his kingdom destroyed, as a headless corpse who only now has been brave enough to accept his proper fate. By removing the belt from his person in the film’s Inception-like final scene, he relinquishes the taint of black magic and regains his religious honor, even at the likely cost of death. That, the medieval Christian morality tale would agree, is the correct course of action.

Gawain’s encounter with St. Winifred likewise presents a more subtle vision of medieval Christianity. Winifred was an eighth-century Welsh saint known for being beheaded, after which (by the power of another saint) her head was miraculously restored to her body and she went on to live a long and holy life. It doesn’t quite work that way in TGK. (St Winifred’s Well is mentioned in the original SGGK, but as far as I recall, Gawain doesn’t meet the saint in person.) In the film, Gawain encounters Winifred’s lifelike apparition, who begs him to dive into the mere and retrieve her head (despite appearances, she warns him, it is not attached to her body). This fits into the pattern of medieval ghost stories, where the dead often return to entreat the living to help them finish their business; they must be heeded, but when they are encountered in places they shouldn’t be, they must be put back into their proper physical space and reminded of their real fate. Gawain doesn’t follow William of Newburgh’s practical recommendation to just fetch some brawny young men with shovels to beat the wandering corpse back into its grave. Instead, in one of his few moments of unqualified heroism, he dives into the dark water and retrieves Winifred’s skull from the bottom of the lake. Then when he returns to the house, he finds the rest of her skeleton lying in the bed where he was earlier sleeping, and carefully reunites the skull with its body, finally allowing it to rest in peace.

However, Gawain’s involvement with Winifred doesn’t end there. The fox that he sees on the bank after emerging with her skull, who then accompanies him for the rest of the film, is strongly implied to be her spirit, or at least a companion that she has sent for him. Gawain has handled a saint’s holy bones; her relics, which were well known to grant protection in the medieval world. He has done the saint a service, and in return, she extends her favor to him. At the end of the film, the fox finally speaks in a human voice, warning him not to proceed to the fateful final encounter with the Green Knight; it will mean his death. The symbolism of having a beheaded saint serve as Gawain’s guide and protector is obvious, since it is the fate that may or may not lie in store for him. As I said, the ending is Inception-like in that it steadfastly refuses to tell you if the hero is alive (or will live) or dead (or will die). In the original SGGK, of course, the Green Knight and the Lord turn out to be the same person, Gawain survives, it was all just a test of chivalric will and honor, and a trap put together by Morgan Le Fay in an attempt to frighten Guinevere. It’s essentially able to be laughed off: a game, an adventure, not real. TGK takes this paradigm and flips it (to speak…) on its head.

Gawain’s rescue of Winifred’s head also rewards him in more immediate terms: his/the Green Knight’s axe, stolen by the scavengers, is miraculously restored to him in her cottage, immediately and concretely demonstrating the virtue of his actions. This is one of the points where the film most stubbornly resists modern storytelling conventions: it simply refuses to add in any kind of “rational” or “empirical” explanation of how else it got there, aside from the grace and intercession of the saint. This is indeed how it works in medieval hagiography: things simply reappear, are returned, reattached, repaired, made whole again, and Gawain’s lost weapon is thus restored, symbolizing that he has passed the test and is worthy to continue with the quest. The film’s narrative is not modernizing its underlying medieval logic here, and it doesn’t particularly care if a modern audience finds it “convincing” or not. As noted, the film never makes any attempt to temporalize or localize itself; it exists in a determinedly surrealist and ahistorical landscape, where naked female giants who look suspiciously like Tilda Swinton roam across the wild with no necessary explanation. While this might be frustrating for some people, I actually found it a huge relief that a clearly fantastic and fictional literary adaptation was not acting like it was qualified to teach “real history” to its audience. Nobody would come out of TGK thinking that they had seen the “actual” medieval world, and since we have enough of a problem with that sort of thing thanks to GOT, I for one welcome the creation of a medieval imaginative space that embraces its eccentric and unrealistic elements, rather than trying to fit them into the Real Life box.

This plays into the fact that the film, like a reused medieval manuscript containing more than one text, is a palimpsest: for one, it audaciously rewrites the entire Arthurian canon in the wordless vision of Gawain’s life after escaping the Green Knight (I could write another meta on that dream-epilogue alone). It moves fluidly through time and creates alternate universes in at least two major points: one, the scene where Gawain is tied up and abandoned by the scavengers and that long circling shot reveals his skeletal corpse rotting on the sward, only to return to our original universe as Gawain decides that he doesn’t want that fate, and two, Gawain as King. In this alternate ending, Arthur doesn’t die in battle with Mordred, but peaceably in bed, having anointed his worthy nephew as his heir. Gawain becomes king, has children, gets married, governs Camelot, becomes a ruler surpassing even Arthur, but then watches his son get killed in battle, his subjects turn on him, and his family vanish into the dust of his broken hall before he himself, in despair, pulls the enchanted scarf out of his clothing and succumbs to his fate.

In this version, Gawain takes on the responsibility for the fall of Camelot, not Arthur. This is the hero’s burden, but he’s obtained it dishonorably, by cheating. It is a vivid but mimetic future which Gawain (to all appearances) ultimately rejects, returning the film to the realm of traditional Arthurian canon – but not quite. After all, if Gawain does get beheaded after that final fade to black, it would represent a significant alteration from the poem and the character’s usual arc. Are we back in traditional canon or aren’t we? Did Gawain reject that future or didn’t he? Do all these alterities still exist within the visual medium of the meta-text, and have any of them been definitely foreclosed?

Furthermore, the film interrogates itself and its own tropes in explicit and overt ways. In Gawain’s conversation with the Lord, the Lord poses the question that many members of the audience might have: is Gawain going to carry out this potentially pointless and suicidal quest and then be an honorable hero, just like that? What is he actually getting by staggering through assorted Irish bogs and seeming to reject, rather than embrace, the paradigms of a proper quest and that of an honorable knight? He lies about being a knight to the scavengers, clearly out of fear, and ends up cravenly bound and robbed rather than fighting back. He denies knowing anything about love to the Lady (played by Alicia Vikander, who also plays his lover at the start of the film with a decidedly ropey Yorkshire accent, sorry to say). He seems to shrink from the responsibility thrust on him, rather than rise to meet it (his only honorable act, retrieving Winifred’s head, is discussed above) and yet here he still is, plugging away. Why is he doing this? What does he really stand to gain, other than accepting a choice and its consequences (somewhat?) The film raises these questions, but it has no plans to answer them. It’s going to leave you to think about them for yourself, and it isn’t going to spoon-feed you any ultimate moral or neat resolution. In this interchange, it’s easy to see both the echoes of a formal dialogue between two speakers (a favored medieval didactic tactic) and the broader purpose of chivalric literature: to interrogate what it actually means to be a knight, how personal honor is generated, acquired, and increased, and whether engaging in these pointless and bloody “war games” is actually any kind of real path to lasting glory.

The film’s treatment of race, gender, and queerness obviously also merits comment. By casting Dev Patel, an Indian-born actor, as an Arthurian hero, the film is… actually being quite accurate to the original legends, doubtless much to the disappointment of assorted internet racists. The thirteenth-century Arthurian romance Parzival (Percival) by the German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach notably features the character of Percival’s mixed-race half-brother, Feirefiz, son of their father by his first marriage to a Muslim princess. Feirefiz is just as heroic as Percival (Gawaine, for the record, also plays a major role in the story) and assists in the quest for the Holy Grail, though it takes his conversion to Christianity for him to properly behold it.

By introducing Patel (and Sarita Chowdhury as Morgause) to the visual representation of Arthuriana, the film quietly does away with the “white Middle Ages” cliché that I have complained about ad nauseam; we see background Asian and black members of Camelot, who just exist there without having to conjure up some complicated rationale to explain their presence. The Lady also uses a camera obscura to make Gawain’s portrait. Contrary to those who might howl about anachronism, this technique was known in China as early as the fourth century BCE and the tenth/eleventh century Islamic scholar Ibn al-Haytham was probably the best-known medieval authority to write on it extensively; Latin translations of his work inspired European scientists from Roger Bacon to Leonardo da Vinci. Aside from the symbolism of an upside-down Gawain (and when he sees the portrait again during the ‘fall of Camelot’, it is right-side-up, representing that Gawain himself is in an upside-down world), this presents a subtle challenge to the prevailing Eurocentric imagination of the medieval world, and draws on other global influences.

As for gender, we have briefly touched on it above; in the original SGGK, Gawain’s entire journey is revealed to be just a cruel trick of Morgan Le Fay, simply trying to destabilize Arthur’s court and upset his queen. (Morgan is the old blindfolded woman who appears in the Lord and Lady’s castle and briefly approaches Gawain, but her identity is never explicitly spelled out.) This is, obviously, an implicitly misogynistic setup: an evil woman plays a trick on honorable men for the purpose of upsetting another woman, the honorable men overcome it, the hero survives, and everyone presumably lives happily ever after (at least until Mordred arrives).

Instead, by plunging the outcome into doubt and the hero into a much darker and more fallible moral universe, TGK shifts the blame for Gawain’s adventure and ultimate fate from Morgan to Gawain himself. Likewise, Guinevere is not the passive recipient of an evil deception but in a way, the catalyst for the whole thing. She breaks the seal on the Green Knight’s message with a weighty snap; she becomes the oracle who reads it out, she is alarming rather than alarmed, she disrupts the complacency of the court and silently shows up all the other knights who refuse to step forward and answer the Green Knight’s challenge. Gawain is not given the ontological reassurance that it’s just a practical joke and he’s going to be fine (and thanks to the unresolved ending, neither are we). The film instead takes the concept at face value in order to push the envelope and ask the simple question: if a man was going to be actually-for-real beheaded in a year, why would he set out on a suicidal quest? Would you, in Gawain’s place, make the same decision to cast aside the enchanted belt and accept your fate? Has he made his name, will he be remembered well? What is his legacy?

Indeed, if there is any hint of feminine connivance and manipulation, it arrives in the form of the implication that Gawain’s mother has deliberately summoned the Green Knight to test her son, prove his worth, and position him as his childless uncle’s heir; she gives him the protective belt to make sure he won’t actually die, and her intention all along was for the future shown in the epilogue to truly play out (minus the collapse of Camelot). Only Gawain loses the belt thanks to his cowardice in the encounter with the scavengers, regains it in a somewhat underhanded and morally questionable way when the Lady is attempting to seduce him, and by ultimately rejecting it altogether and submitting to his uncertain fate, totally mucks up his mother’s painstaking dynastic plans for his future. In this reading, Gawain could be king, and his mother’s efforts are meant to achieve that goal, rather than thwart it. He is thus required to shoulder his own responsibility for this outcome, rather than conveniently pawning it off on an “evil woman,” and by extension, the film asks the question: What would the world be like if men, especially those who make war on others as a way of life, were actually forced to face the consequences of their reckless and violent actions? Is it actually a “game” in any sense of the word, especially when chivalric literature is constantly preoccupied with the question of how much glorious violence is too much glorious violence? If you structure social prestige for the king and the noble male elite entirely around winning battles and existing in a state of perpetual war, when does that begin to backfire and devour the knightly class – and the rest of society – instead?

This leads into the central theme of Gawain’s relationships with the Lord and Lady, and how they’re treated in the film. The poem has been repeatedly studied in terms of its latent (and sometimes… less than latent) queer subtext: when the Lord asks Gawain to pay back to him whatever he should receive from his wife, does he already know what this involves; i.e. a physical and romantic encounter? When the Lady gives kisses to Gawain, which he is then obliged to return to the Lord as a condition of the agreement, is this all part of a dastardly plot to seduce him into a kinky green-themed threesome with a probably-not-human married couple looking to spice up their sex life? Why do we read the Lady’s kisses to Gawain as romantic but Gawain’s kisses to the Lord as filial, fraternal, or the standard “kiss of peace” exchanged between a liege lord and his vassal? Is Gawain simply being a dutiful guest by honoring the bargain with his host, actually just kissing the Lady again via the proxy of her husband, or somewhat more into this whole thing with the Lord than he (or the poet) would like to admit? Is the homosocial turning homoerotic, and how is Gawain going to navigate this tension and temptation?

If the question is never resolved: well, welcome to one of the central medieval anxieties about chivalry, knighthood, and male bonds! As I have written about before, medieval society needed to simultaneously exalt this as the most honored and noble form of love, and make sure it didn’t accidentally turn sexual (once again: how much male love is too much male love?). Does the poem raise the possibility of serious disruption to the dominant heteronormative paradigm, only to solve the problem by interpreting the Gawain/Lady male/female kisses as romantic and sexual and the Gawain/Lord male/male kisses as chaste and formal? In other words, acknowledging the underlying anxiety of possible homoeroticism but ultimately reasserting the heterosexual norm? The answer: Probably?!?! Maybe?!?! Hell if we know??! To say the least, this has been argued over to no end, and if you locked a lot of medieval history/literature scholars into a room and told them that they couldn’t come out until they decided on one clear answer, they would be in there for a very long time. The poem seemingly invokes the possibility of a queer reading only to reject it – but once again, as in the question of which canon we end up in at the film’s end, does it?

In some lights, the film’s treatment of this potential queer reading comes off like a cop-out: there is only one kiss between Gawain and the Lord, and it is something that the Lord has to initiate after Gawain has already fled the hall. Gawain himself appears to reject it; he tells the Lord to let go of him and runs off into the wilderness, rather than deal with or accept whatever has been suggested to him. However, this fits with film!Gawain’s pattern of rejecting that which fundamentally makes him who he is; like Peter in the Bible, he has now denied the truth three times. With the scavengers he denies being a knight; with the Lady he denies knowing about courtly love; with the Lord he denies the central bond of brotherhood with his fellows, whether homosocial or homoerotic in nature. I would go so far as to argue that if Gawain does die at the end of the film, it is this rejected kiss which truly seals his fate. In the poem, the Lord and the Green Knight are revealed to be the same person; in the film, it’s not clear if that’s the case, or they are separate characters, even if thematically interrelated. If we assume, however, that the Lord is in fact still the human form of the Green Knight, then Gawain has rejected both his kiss of peace (the standard gesture of protection offered from lord to vassal) and any deeper emotional bond that it can be read to signify. The Green Knight could decide to spare Gawain in recognition of the courage he has shown in relinquishing the enchanted belt – or he could just as easily decide to kill him, which he is legally free to do since Gawain has symbolically rejected the offer of brotherhood, vassalage, or knight-bonding by his unwise denial of the Lord’s freely given kiss. Once again, the film raises the overall thematic and moral question and then doesn’t give one straight (ahem) answer. As with the medieval anxieties and chivalric texts that it is based on, it invokes the specter of queerness and then doesn’t neatly resolve it. As a modern audience, we find this unsatisfying, but once again, the film is refusing to conform to our expectations.

As has been said before, there is so much kissing between men in medieval contexts, both ceremonial and otherwise, that we’re left to wonder: “is it gay or is it feudalism?” Is there an overtly erotic element in Gawain and the Green Knight’s mutual “beheading” of each other (especially since in the original version, this frees the Lord from his curse, functioning like a true love’s kiss in a fairytale). While it is certainly possible to argue that the film has “straightwashed” its subject material by removing the entire sequence of kisses between Gawain and the Lord and the unresolved motives for their existence, it is a fairly accurate, if condensed, representation of the anxieties around medieval knightly bonds and whether, as Carolyn Dinshaw put it, a (male/male) “kiss is just a kiss.” After all, the kiss between Gawain and the Lady is uncomplicatedly read as sexual/romantic, and that context doesn’t go away when Gawain is kissing the Lord instead. Just as with its multiple futurities, the film leaves the question open-ended. Is it that third and final denial that seals Gawain’s fate, and if so, is it asking us to reflect on why, specifically, he does so?

The film could play with both this question and its overall tone quite a bit more: it sometimes comes off as a grim, wooden, over-directed Shakespearean tragedy, rather than incorporating the lively and irreverent tone that the poem often takes. It’s almost totally devoid of humor, which is unfortunate, and the Grim Middle Ages aesthetic is in definite evidence. Nonetheless, because of the comprehensive de-historicizing and the obvious lack of effort to claim the film as any sort of authentic representation of the medieval past, it works. We are not meant to understand this as a historical document, and so we have to treat it on its terms, by its own logic, and by its own frames of reference. In some ways, its consistent opacity and its refusal to abide by modern rules and common narrative conventions is deliberately meant to challenge us: as before, when we recognize Arthur, Merlin, the Round Table, and the other stock characters because we know them already and not because the film tells us so, we have to fill in the gaps ourselves. We are watching the film not because it tells us a simple adventure story – there is, as noted, shockingly little action overall – but because we have to piece together the metatext independently and ponder the philosophical questions that it leaves us with. What conclusion do we reach? What canon do we settle in? What future or resolution is ultimately made real? That, the film says, it can’t decide for us. As ever, it is up to future generations to carry on the story, and decide how, if at all, it is going to survive.

(And to close, I desperately want them to make my much-coveted Bisclavret adaptation now in more or less the same style, albeit with some tweaks. Please.)

Further Reading

Ailes, Marianne J. ‘The Medieval Male Couple and the Language of Homosociality’, in Masculinity in Medieval Europe, ed. by Dawn M. Hadley (Harlow: Longman, 1999), pp. 214–37.

Ashton, Gail. ‘The Perverse Dynamics of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 15 (2005), 51–74.

Boyd, David L. ‘Sodomy, Misogyny, and Displacement: Occluding Queer Desire in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 8 (1998), 77–113.

Busse, Peter. ‘The Poet as Spouse of his Patron: Homoerotic Love in Medieval Welsh and Irish Poetry?’, Studi Celtici 2 (2003), 175–92.

Dinshaw, Carolyn. ‘A Kiss Is Just a Kiss: Heterosexuality and Its Consolations in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Diacritics 24 (1994), 205–226.

Kocher, Suzanne. ‘Gay Knights in Medieval French Fiction: Constructs of Queerness and Non-Transgression’, Mediaevalia 29 (2008), 51–66.

Karras, Ruth Mazo. ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 273–86.

Kuefler, Matthew. ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’, in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179–214.

McVitty, E. Amanda, ‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77.

Mieszkowski, Gretchen. ‘The Prose Lancelot's Galehot, Malory's Lavain, and the Queering of Late Medieval Literature’, Arthuriana 5 (1995), 21–51.

Moss, Rachel E. ‘ “And much more I am soryat for my good knyghts’ ”: Fainting, Homosociality, and Elite Male Culture in Middle English Romance’, Historical Reflections / Réflexions historiques 42 (2016), 101–13.

Zeikowitz, Richard E. ‘Befriending the Medieval Queer: A Pedagogy for Literature Classes’, College English 65 (2002), 67–80.

#the green knight #the green knight meta #sir gawain and the green knight #medieval literature #medieval history #this meta is goddamn 5.2k words #and has its own reading list #i uh #said i had a lot of thoughts?

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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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inthatyearwe · 2 years

Text

Ep. 11

So much to unpack from today’s episode but the last 15 minutes was… something out of this world. As I was watching episode Live, I realized that for the first 40-50 minutes the two main characters weren’t even near each other.. And honestly it did piss me off. But man, the last scene and THAT EPILOGUE just hit me with a bunch of emotions.

Something I realized in the last scene, where Woong is confessing. The last words he says is “부탁이야.” I saw on Netflix that it was translated to “Please” but in a literal sense it means “I beg you” which makes this scene so much more sadder. He was literally begging that she doesn’t let him go this time. I think when I saw that live.. I was frozen and for some reason I didn’t know why and I still don’t know why. But that credit goes to Dami and Wooshik for making me believe in their story.

Also that epilogue! Oh that epilogue.. Just hit everyone with emotions huh… I loved how within 3 minutes, Woong and Yeonsoo basically took me on a roller coaster of emotions. The way they started giggling like high schoolers again. The way Woong started to talk so calmly about him being abandoned in that spot until he gets hit with that realization and bursts into tears ): The way Yeonsoo actually laid down on the floor even though she despised this kind of action and then listened to Woong the entire time without saying anything other than calling his name then to wiping his tears and kissing him. I honestly thought if we were gonna dive into Woong’s sad back story, it was gonna be this big scene but this seems so much more impactful because it came suddenly. And since those words came out of nowhere, it just hits you directly in the stomach..

To be honest, going into episode 11 I was worried where the direction was going to go but it surprisingly went the exact opposite way. I am sooo happy Woong was able to talk about him being abandoned.. It couldn’t have been easy considering he kept that shit deep inside him for over 20 years. However I do wonder, did no one else know.. I am surprised and yet not surprised that Jiwoong didn’t know. Considering Jiwoong has always believed that Woong was some prince who was given everything while he had the sad backstory.. (I’ve been trying really hard not to hate his character.. But I can’t seem to like him)

P.S that lashing out from Chaeran seemed sooo unprofessional and I feel like she did that because of Yeonsoo. I don’t know but that entire documentary crew is just a joke lol I don’t think I would ever want to work with them if they kept on interfering with my life

#our beloved summer #honestly the entirety of ep. 11 wasnt that great but the last scene and the epilogue elevated it

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xanasaurusrex · 3 years

Text

Light - B.M.

Pairing: Beverly Marsh x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1918 words

Warnings: Love confession, mutual pining, swimming, swearing, Richie Tozier (it’s a warning within itself), kissing, tooth-rotting fluff I stg, Losers Club are aged up to 17, super crappy ending, not proofread, I think that’s it! Please let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: The other Losers know for a fact that Bev returns Y/N’s feelings, even though she’s blind to them herself. But after a set up one day, maybe she’ll see the light.

Notes: My first ever It (2017) fic! Also my first fic on Tumblr! Thank you to anyone who read this, because it’s taking a lot of courage to write this, let alone post it…. Yeah, Bev and Richie are my favorite characters in the movies, and, given my url, I figured my first fic should be a Bev fic! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

******

“She likes you back, Y/N,”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Stop fighting it, we all see it!”

Y/N looked at Richie with a roll of her eyes, turning back forward to avoid crashing into anyone or anything with her bike. “Can you stop with that? I don’t want you giving me false hope when I know she doesn’t like me back,”

Richie was the one to roll his eyes this time.

Everyone in the Losers Club knew that Y/N had had a crush on Bev for as long as they could all remember. Since the first day she saw Bev in the pharmacy after they found Ben outside the sewers and had gone in to find the supplies to fix him up.

Bev had been the one to save the day. She had distracted the man at the counter while they took the things they needed, and had come back afterwards to make sure that Ben was okay. Of course, Y/N had realized that it was not the time to be admiring Bev, seeing as Ben had just had a pretty rough run-in with Bowers, and Eddie was freaking out enough as it was.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall completely in love with the red-headed Derry resident. She lived in the apartment above hers, and whenever Bev’s dad fell asleep, Bev would climb down the fire escape and climb into Y/N’s window.

Y/N would sit with her and listen to what she said, or would just sit there, and the girls would hug.

On those nights when Bev either couldn’t go down to Y/N’s apartment, or didn’t need to, Y/N would lay down, and stare up at the ceiling, knowing that Bev’s room was directly above her own. She would wonder what Bev was doing, if she was reading the secret admirer note that Ben had given her, or if she was thinking of Y/N just as much as she was thinking of Bev.

It was torture.

It took a little longer for the other members of the Losers Club to realize that Y/N was falling in love with Bev. After that, they all began encouraging her to confess to Bev, because even though at the time they hadn’t seen the light that ignited in Bev’s eyes the second they landed on Y/N, they wanted their friends to be happy, and who else to be happy with but each other?

That was all when they were twelve, nearly five years ago. In that time, they had all seen that Bev loved Y/N the same way Y/N loved Bev. It was hard to watch the two beat around the bush with each other; subtle flirting that neither one noticed (though everyone else did), and even harder to see them think that the other was in love with other people, though everyone else thought it was painfully obvious to everyone else that it was each other they were in love with.

Now, as Y/N and Richie biked home together, Richie tried his best to convince Y/N for the thousandth time that Bev liked her back, no, loved her back.

“I’m sorry Rich, I want to believe you, I really do,” Y/N said for the thousandth time. “But you’ve gotta be blind to not see that Bev and Bill are in love with each other,”

Richie quickly realized that he didn’t have enough energy to argue with her today, even though he still wanted to, instead opting for a safer topic: the test that Mr. Herrd gave them today, that Richie was fairly sure he had failed.

***

“They’re both fuckin idiots,”

Everyone nodded in agreement at Richie’s statement as the entire Losers Club watched Y/N and Bev play around and splash each other in the lake in the quarry, both of them giggling like little girls, their cheeks bright pink, and not from the sun.

“Bev!” Y/N squealed as Bev splashed her with a particularly large amount of water. After taking a second to regain herself, she retaliated by splashing an even larger amount of water at Bev.

“It’s like they’re both wearing signs saying, ‘I’m in love with the person standing in front of me, but since I’m both a pussy and an idiot, I haven’t said anything yet,”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie’s language, but agreed nonetheless. “I wish they would just admit it to each other already. To be honest, it’s getting tiring. Should we just… lock them in a room together and not let them leave until they confess?”

“That’s an idea,” Bill smiled.

“Maybe we should say we’re meeting at the Quarry but then none of us show up,” Eddie suggested. “Chances are they’re gonna stay and hang out, and maybe if we’re lucky they’ll say something?”

Richie scoffed. “Knowing them, fat chance. I think if this plan fails, we should go with Stan’s idea,”

The others all agreed, and decided when the best date would be to set this up, and then set the date for their backup plan, and decided they would do it at Bill’s house, since his is the biggest and they would be able to hang around and check in on them regularly without having to hear them kick and scream.

“You guys coming back?” Y/N broke the boys out of their trance after her and Bev realized that they had been splashing each other for nearly fifteen minutes, when they should have been splashing the boys. “We’re getting bored!”

The boys all gave each other a sly look before immediately running back towards the water, splashing Bev and Y/N immediately, all of them laughing as they got splashed back.

***

“Are they coming?”

Bev and Y/N had been at the Quarry for nearly half an hour, both of them laying against the rocks, sunbathing, in just their bikinis. It took everything in both of them not to stare at the other and admire everything about them.

Y/N glanced at the watch that she had taken off her wrist, anticipating that they’d be swimming, and saw that it was now forty five minutes after noon, the time all the Losers had agreed to be at the Quarry.

Y/N sighed. “I don’t think so. Maybe they all forgot?”

Bev laughed. “You think Stan forgot? He’s probably at Richie’s with the others trying to get Richie out of bed. How much d’you wanna bet he stayed up all night on his Gameboy again, and now he’s sleeping the day away?”

She said the last part in a mock-dreamy way, a tone of voice that had Y/N’s heart soaring. She had always loved the sound of Bev’s voice, and there were certain times when it would just go straight to tug on Y/N’s heartstrings. It was never a particular time, just… Bev.

Everything about Bev was magical to Y/N. Somehow, all it took was one small smile, one of Bev’s smiles, and all of a sudden, Y/N was a completely different person.

Normally, she didn’t really like physical contact. It wasn’t anything in particular that had caused it, she just never was a really cuddly person. She could enjoy a short hug, or a quick high five, but anything longer than about three seconds made her uncomfortable

She wasn’t that way with Bev. Y/N would hug her for eternity, and would never want to stop. The two often held hands, and told everyone else that it was purely platonic, though Y/N secretly wished that it would be something more.

Y/N knew that Bev was still talking, but she couldn’t focus on anything more than the way that Bev’s lips were moving, as they moved quickly and perfectly to form the words that were on Bev’s brain.

The conscious, realistic part of Y/N’s brain told her that she should be focusing on what her friend was actually saying. That in just a few seconds, Bev was going to do the thing that they always did in movies where she waved her hand in front of Y/N’s face and asked if she had heard anything she said.

Sure enough, she did.

“Y/N/N, are you even listening to me?” Bev asked with a small chuckle.

The sound alone sent more heat to Y/N’s cheeks.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head, almost as if that would clear her head of the thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend. “Just uh… feeling a little out of it today, that’s all,”

Bev nodded in understanding. “Yeah. Today just… feels weird.”

Y/N nodded in agreement.

The two stayed silent for a few more minutes, before Y/N sat up again. “So, since the boys aren’t coming, we probably shouldn’t wait for them to start swimming, right?”

Bev nodded in agreement, before jumping up and running towards the water, yelling, “Last one in the water is a dancing clown!” behind her, before immediately splashing into the water, getting to a deep enough area, and diving in.

Y/N cursed herself, and then immediately launched herself into the water after Bev, inadvertently splashing her with water as she came out of the water herself at the perfect time.

“Got you!”

***

Y/N shook the water droplets out of her hair, refraining from watching as Bev dried out her own hair, slipping the loose dress that she had brought with her over the bikini that she had worn.

It was now five forty five, and Y/N was going to be expected home for dinner soon. After realizing this, she had reluctantly told Bev that she needed to head home.

Since they lived in the same apartment complex, Bev said she’d go with her.

The sunlight from the sunset bounced off the lake and onto the two girls standing on the beach next to the lake in the Quarry.

Y/N couldn’t help herself this time. She looked up to Bev, and found that she was staring at her the same way, admiring how the golden light danced across her skin, from the top of her coppery red curls to the very bottom of her feet.

Before she could even process what she was doing, Y/N quickly closed the space between her and Bev, pressing her lips against Bev’s.

It only took Bev two seconds to kiss back, relieved that Y/N had been the one to make the first move.

After a few seconds, they realized that they needed air, so the two reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Y/N whispered breathlessly.

“It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?” Bev asked. “I saw you with the boys and I knew that it was always going to be you. It’s always been you, Y/N,”

“It’s always been you, Bev,”

The two pulled apart, Bev’s arms still wrapped around Y/N’s neck, Y/N’s hands placed lovingly on Bev’s waist. As she looked into Bev’s eyes, she saw a glint in her eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

The light made Bev’s eyes even brighter than they already were, and the longer Y/N looked at her, the more she fell in love.

“I love you, Bev,” she confessed quietly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulder at the confession. “I always have.

#beverly marsh #beverly marsh x reader #bev marsh x reader #bev marsh #it 2017 #it chapter one #it fanfiction #losers club #richie tozier x platonic reader #not proofread #bad ending #x reader #beverly marsh x yn #bev marsh x yn #beverly marsh x y/n #bev marsh x y/n #x yn #x y/n

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

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164 notes · View notes

marshieee · 3 years

Note

Could i request kuroo ushijima sakusa and msby bokuto when you come to their games but its a big game and you bring your kid(s) with you. (Maybe the kid(s) help bokuto with his emo mode or the kids help calm their dad down) idk i just thought this would be cute and fun for you to write

Also idk if you accept anons but if you do can i be midnight anon

Aahhhhh a father to children interaction i love that!❤️❤️ i still can’t believe I’m receiving request huhuhu😭❤️ OFCOURSE I ACCEPT ANONS! CHARACTER ANONS OR WHATEVER JUST COME TO ME!!!🥰 also this is gonna be their timeskip version so I’m gonna stick with kuroo’s timeskip profession if you don’t mind also i wanted to try to make this a little scenario just tell me if you want to make this as a hc. Sorry this took awhile.

When their kid(s) came to see them

Kuroo

“Man...”

Kuroo was watching schweiden alders game feeling nervous as he watch ushijima spikes the ball.

“Jeez he’s gonna break the ball at this point”

He was assigned to ask ushijima for a promotion video promoting a good sportsmanship and promoting the game just like what he did with hinata.

Normally he wouldn’t get this nervous but learning that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son changed his mood. Also knowing that ushijima would eventually become a professional volleyball player under Japan V. League soon.

“Like father like son huh”

Suddenly out of nowhere, even though the whole place was booming with cheers and claps he heard someone calling him.

“DADDY!!!”

He turned around and saw his ball of sunshine running towards him with you trailing behind.

“Baby!”

He kneels down and opened his arms waiting for his son to come to him. The toddler then dives into his fathers arms and started giggling, he stood up carrying his son.

“What brings you here buddy?”

“Mommy said she was going to watch a volleyball game and asked me if i wanna go”

“And you did”

“AND I DID”

As you finally reached them he gave you a cheeky smile, he kissed your cheeks since his son is there so kiss on the lips can wait.

“Hi kitten”

“Hello to you too kuroo-san”

“KUROO-SAN?”

You laughed but finally noticing his is kind of pale worried that he might be sick you gently cupped his face.

“Are you ok?”

He grabs your hand and give it a kiss, feeling that he is slowly calming down.

“Yeah”

But suddenly his son grabbed both of his cheeks and forcibly turned kuroo to face him.

“Y-Yes?”

“Daddy are you sick?”

“No buddy I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”

“Really?”

“Really”

“Okay”

“Hahaha...ok”

Still not convinced with his father’s word he gave kuroo a kiss on the cheeks and made up a little chant to make sure he’s ok.

“Thank you baby i feel a lot better now”

“What’s up with you anyways?”

“Well i was assigned to ask ushijima if he can make a promotion video with us”

“And? What’s wrong with that?”

“Recently i just discovered that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son”

“Wait really? The utsui takashi?”

“Yeah”

“Omygod”

“I know right?!”

Suddenly someone flung their arms around your shoulder, now that you noticed how close your face were with kuroo. The both of you looked at your son who is struggling to keep his arms around you since you’re a bit far, giggling you stepped closer, when he got comfortable, he took a deep breath and puts on a serious face.

“Who is utsui takashi?”

“Why is utsui takashi?”

“How is utsui takashi?”

You three fell silent for a good minute before bursting with laughter.

“Why are we even huddling anyways?”

You took your son out of kuroo’s arms and continued laughing with him. Kuroo watched both of his precious gems having fun, all smiles and that’s what he likes.

Ushijima

It was a big day today since it’s msby vs schweiden alders game.

He felt a excitement since he’s going to play against hinata shoyo again after those years. The fact that you told him you can’t come to his game today since you’re too busy and his daughter has a play date really saddens his mood. Boy just wants to flex sometimes you know.

Suddenly he heard a commotion outside their waiting room, he didn’t mind it at first but it gradually got a little louder so he decided to check it out. This man got confused over a commotion cause not only his teammates were there also the msby players were also there huddled in the middle of the hallway.

“What’s happening?”

They all turned around that made ushijima anxious because duh they were looking at him like he just killed someone then all of a sudden in the center of those giant players was a lovely little girl.

“PAPA!!!”

“Keiko?”

Fun fact: ushi named his daughter keiko that means “respected child”

Keiko runs up to her father and ushijima instantly scoops her up in his arms.

“Papa i’m here”

“But i thought keiko has a play date today?”

“Keiko said she wants to watch her papa play”

The boys gave way to you as you walked up to the both of them. Ushijima gave you a smile and pecks your lips.

“Hi mama”

“Hello honey”

Suddenly Kageyama appeared besides you and bowed.

“Hello y/n-san!”

“Oh my hello tobio-kun”

“TOBIO NII-CHAN!!”

“Hello keiko”

Hoshiumi then appeared behind ushijima and waved at little keiko.

“Hiii keiko-chan!”

“HOSHIUMI NII-CHAN!!”

“Hey keiko who do you think is the coolest?—“

“Papa!”

“No no not that—“

“But papa is the coolest for me”

“Besides your papa, me or hinata shoyo?”

Suddenly hinata pops out and caught keiko’s attention, ushijima had to hold her since she moved to the side to look at hinata. She stared at hinata making him nervous.

“SUNSHINE!!!”

They all got quiet when keiko shouted sunshine while giggling, hinata on the other hand was confused.

“Sunshine?”

“Shoyo nii-chan sunshine!”

Hinata blushed furiously after receiving a compliment from keiko, hoshiumi did not know what’s happening so he asked ushijima if he can carry keiko.

“Sure just be careful”

“I will i will”

Then they started to surround keiko again asking who’s the coolest to who’s the tallest and who’s the best etc. etc.

Ushijima watched as her baby girl was getting along with his teammates and other teams as well. You looked at ushijima who has a soft look, nudging him to the side.

“It looks like keiko is popular huh~”

“Yeah”

“Ah I wonder if she’s also popular at her daycare~”

Ushijima turned to look at you with a confused expression.

“Because if she is there’s probably a boy who likes her—“

“No”

“But what if when she goes home and told us about—“

“No”

“Aww keiko will have a prince—“

Ushijima grabbed both of your cheeks and kissed your nose, but he still looks frustrated after you put those thoughts in his head.

“Y/N no”

“Owkie~”

Sakusa

Today is a big day for the japan V league, the gymnasium was packed with fans and supporters for each team. You could see a lot of flags here and there, there’s also a huge group of people who would cheer for their teams.

A lot of camera has been clicking and taping since then. Fortunately for you, you got a good seat in front thanks for the sources you had, your little girl who’s sitting besides you is very excited to watch the game.

She begged you to have her face painted with a japan flag which you unfortunately did because you can’t say no to her sometimes, you gave her a fan with the japan’s team on it so she could wave it around and to fan herself of course.

The game has started and you cheered with your daughter, shouting and jumping whenever the japan team scores a point. Soon the game ended and it was the win of the japan team. You felt someone tug your shirt looking down you saw your daughter who was ready to go.

“Mommy let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Alright baby calm down we’re going”

You held her hands as you two walk towards the court, thankfully you two wore a pass around your neck or else.

When you arrived at the court a lot of people were there, paparazzi, reporters, few important peoples and all. You were trying to spot your husband among the crowd but your daughter found him first, she lets go of your hand and came dashing to wherever she found her father.

“AH BABY! WAIT!”

“DADDY!!”

Sakusa was having an interview with a reporter that time so he didn’t notice a little girl running towards him, when she got to where her daddy was she immediately hugged him.

The reporter was confused and panicking since a little girl suddenly interrupted their interview, they were glancing back and forgot to sakusa to the little girl when all of a sudden sakusa smiled and lifted her up.

“Where were we again?”

“Oh..um right uh, y-your thoughts about the game”

“Ah yes, they were a tough opponent that’s given it was really hard to go pass through their defense so it was nice when aran broke their defenses with one hard spike, overall it was a good game everyone did their best so that’s what matters”

“Right one last question um do you know this little girl?”

Sakusa looked at the ball of sunshine in his arms and smiled at her.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?”

The nodded enthusiastically at her father,

“Go on”

“Hello! My name is sakusa hayami! Nice to meet you!”

Fun fact:Sakusa named his daughter hayami which means “rare beauty”

The reporter was surprised and looked at sakusa who was smiling.

“She’s my daughter”

“Oh! Hello hayami-san nice to meet you too how old are you?”

“I’m...”

Hayami slowly extended her fingers and showed them,

“I’m five years old!”

“Wow! Anything you want to say abou your father?”

“Daddy?”

Sakusa then whispered to her.

“What do you want to say about daddy”

“MY DADDY IS AWESOME! HE’S SO STRONG WHEN HE POW THE BALL THEN WHEN THE BALL GO WHOOSH! THEN THEY CAN’T CATCH IT!”

She flings her arms in the air while explaining making the reporter giggle at her cuteness, sakusa then noticed you walking towards them, he gave you a smile and gestures you to come over.

“And here...”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“...is my lovely wife y/n”

You bow down and the reporter bow down also, they look at the three of you and smiled.

“What a lovely family”

“It is”

Sakusa turned to look at you and kissed you on your forehead.

“It is a lovely family”

Suddenly someone shouted at the background causing all of you to turn around.

“HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE BOKUTO!”

“HI HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE TSUMU”

Sakusa turned to look at the reporter with a frustrated face.

“It’s a lovely family not until they come around”

“Ah hahaha...”

When the interview ended hayami played with her uncles, sakusa held your hand.

“Did you enjoyed the game?”

“Yeah i did, Hayami also enjoyed the game”

“Really?”

“Yes really i had to stop her from shouting to much or she’ll hurt her throat”

“Hahahaha...i see”

He placed a soft kiss on your hand, you looked at him.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome~”

Bokuto

You wanted to surprise bokuto so you didn’t tell him that you’ll be watching his game today all he knows is you’ll be at your friend’s house since they needed you with something and the kids were scheduled with a play date.

He didn’t mind of course but it’s still sad that his babies wouldn’t be there to watch him play but when you told him that you’ll be watching at the television he said that he’ll do his best.

Now that you’re here at the noisy gymnasium full of spectators who supports their favorite teams, other brought their own banner some joined a cheering team. The whole gymnasium was full of tension and excitement that infected both of your children as they were jumping and shouting that you have to sometimes cover their mouth or else they’ll hurt themselves.

“GOOOO DADDY!!!!”

“GO GO MSBY!!!”

Bokuto didn’t know that you three were there all he knows is to focus on the game and win. Since the whole area was full of cheer it’ll be hard for bokuto to hear his kids cheering for him.

As the game went on the msby team isn’t doing well they were five points behind and they needed to catch up or the numbers will pile up. You can tell your husband is getting frustrated since his spikes keeps getting blocked, unlike before he knows how to calm down and act rationally but the frustration is still there if this continues he will lose his focus.

You have to do something, you were thinking of ways to help your husband and then suddenly your kids started shouting even more.

“DADDY YOU CAN DO THIS!!!”

“DADDYYYY!!!!”

You guessed that they sensed that their daddy is having a tough time, then it came to you, it’s kind of dumb to bring this with you but you thought that you might need or someone might need it and it looks like you did. Tapping the shoulders of the shouting children they then looked at you.

“Kasuga, haruki...”

You named your little girl kasuga which means “spring day” while bokuto named his young man haruki which means “shining sun”

You gave them a thumbs up as they looked at you with a confused expression.

“...leave it to mommy”

You grabbed your bag and looked for the thing that you brought, you immediately pulled it out of the bag.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a megaphone”

Yes, you did brought a megaphone without any reason you just shoved it down and brought it.

“Mega-phone?”

“Uh huh you can talk here and it’ll make your voice suuuuper loud and I’m sure daddy will hear it!”

They were excited to use it since they know that their daddy will finally hear them, you started to turn on the megaphone and handed the it to them.

“You two hold it very still”

Haruki lets his sister hold the upper part of handle while he holds the lower part of it. You made sure that it was on and loud and clear.

“Ok now you two go in front right, there in the railings mommy will be right beside you”

You don’t want other people burts their damn eardrums when the twins shouts. They slowly and carefully walked down the stairs holding on the megaphone on their hands. When you arrived at the bottom, the twins looked at you as you gave them your signal.

“Ok on the count of three...one...two...three!”

They took a deep breath and cheered.

“DADDYYYYYY DO YOUR BESTTTT!! YOU CAN DO THISSSS!!! GOOO FIGHTTTTT!!!”

If it’s just one of them it wouldn’t really attract a lot of people but since there’s two of them I’m sure there’s a lot of people who’s looking at the three of you. You blushed a little but didn’t stop the twins since you’re a supportive mother and wife.

Bokuto heard their screams, at first he thought he was hallucinating but when hinata turned around and started to wave at them.

“KASUGA-CHAN! HARUKI-CHAN!!”

“Kasuga...haruki...”

He finally turned around and saw his two bundle of joy waving at him and right beside them was you who looks flustered but still waving at him. He felt all of his frustrations fading away by just looking at the three of you all smiles for him, so he raised both of his arms and smiled.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!”

The twins immediately handed you the megaphone and copied their father’s actions.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!” “HEY HEY HEY!!!”

Bokuto turned to look at you, you blowed him a kiss to which he blows you one back. Feeling a lot better he tapped both sakusa and hinata’s back.

“LET’S WIN THIS!”

Bonus:

Atsumu watched bokuto’s with his lovely family and felt extremely jealous on how the two of you blowing kisses to each other.

“How come bokuto has two cute children and a beautiful wife”

Grumbling at himself he turned to look for a camera who’s recording live on television but since there’s a alot he just shouted.

“SAMU IF I WIN THIS YA BETTER GIVE ME A FREE ONIGIRI YA JERK!”

Fortunately that was caught on cam and fortunately for him too osamu was watching live on his phone.

“THEN WIN YA DUMBASS!!!!”

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #fluff #kuroo scenario #Sakusa scenario #ushijima scenario #bokuto scenario #daddy haikyuu #timeskip kuroo #timeskip ushijima #timeskip sakusa #timeskip bokuto #timeskip haikyuu #sorry this took awhile lmao

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crashdevlin · 3 years

Text

Swan Song

Author’s Note: This is part Twenty-six of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: Y/n is living life without marks and without alpha influence...but the End is nigh...sacrifices must be made.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, mentions of Alpha!Dean x Omega!Lisa

Word count: 3583

Story Warnings: angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, canon major character deaths and resurrections

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, where are we this week, girl? Hawaii, Puerto Rico?" Bobby asked and you smiled, looking around the dirty Canadian dive bar.

"Santo Domingo. Gotta love the Dominican," you lied.

"Where you really?"

You took a drink of your beer and picked at the peeling vinyl of the table top. "Saskatoon. Cursed church bell, drives people to suicide when they hear it."

"Need help?"

"Nah. I've got this. Just need to convince the vicar to let me melt down a bell that's been part of their church since the 1800s. No big deal." You sighed and scratched at your turtleneck. "How are they?"

"Thought you didn't wanna know about them, Y/n."

"Didn't want to be attached to them. Not the same thing."

Bobby sighed. "They took a trip through Heaven a few days ago...got a message from the big man Himself."

"God? They talked to God?" you asked, eyes wide.

"Talked to someone talks to God...and God said they're on their own."

"Sounds like God...handle it yourself but worship me for 'guiding' you." You rolled your eyes. "Sam isn't taking that well, is he?"

"Dean's taking it worse."

"What? Dean doesn't care about God."

"Think it's more that God was the last hope and He ain't playin'. What are we even supposed to do now, right?"

"Right." A hopeless Dean Winchester was a problem. No telling what he might do. “I’m sure everything will work out. If God isn’t worried, then I guess we shouldn’t worry.”

"Well, I hope you're right, Y/n." You nodded. You were hoping the same. "I'll call next time we got something new."

"Okay. Good luck, Bobby."

"You too."

You slid your phone into your pocket and took a drink of your beer. Things would be fine...or they wouldn't. Only time could tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't answer when the call came in from Dean's number. You didn't answer five minutes later when the call came in from Dean's other number. You pulled off into a gas station when your phone dinged with a voicemail message.

"Shoulda known you wouldn't answer...but I really wanted to hear your voice, Y/n. Guess your outgoing message will have to do." He cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about you since you left. Nothing is ever right when you're gone. I think you need to know that. I know why you left. I know I was never really good at being with you. I didn't give you a reason to stay. I should have. But you...you had to leave. You had to make that hard decision and I love you for that. Nobody wanted you to make that decision, to free us, but it was the right choice and I love that you made it. I love you for calling me out on my bullshit. You always did that for me." He sniffled and you could imagine him wiping at his eyes. "And you always kept tryin', even though I pushed you away all the time. You should have given up on me a long time ago and you didn't. I love you, Y/n. I should have said it a long time ago...but more I should have showed you. I should have showed you."

You wiped at your eyes and bit your bottom lip. "I really hope you got to see the world, but if you're on the home continent…stay away from the Midwest. I don't know how big the fight's gonna get."

"Oh, God. Dean, what are you doing?" you whispered as you clicked out of your voicemail to call him back. He didn't answer. "Damn it, Winchester!" You called his other cell, but still didn't get an answer. So you called John's cell. "Where’s Dean?"

John sighed. "Indiana. He's on the goodbye tour."

You rolled your eyes. Indiana meant Lisa. Of course. "He's going to say 'yes', isn't he? After everything, he's going to give up?"

"We aren't going to let him. Sam, Castiel, and I are on our way to stop him."

"You better. He does not get to give up."

"We won't let him," John promised.

"How?"

"We've got an angel on our side, remember? And Castiel really isn't happy about Dean throwing away his sacrifice. We'll keep him safe."

You let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "Let me know if anything bad-"

"Don't worry. We're gonna take care of him."

"Thank you, John."

"Maybe you should call him, though."

"I tried," you responded. "He didn't answer." You shook your head. "It's fine. Get his head on straight. It'll be okay."

"Right. It'll be okay."

"Bye, John." You hung up and set the phone on the passenger seat. You looked up at the sky through your windshield. "I know you don't care about what your angels are doing, but please don't let Dean say 'yes'. Please. I don't ask for a lot but please give me this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should come to Detroit." Bobby's words didn't seem worried. Everything about the tone said it was past time to worry.

"What happened?"

"Sam said 'yes' and-"

"What?!"

"It was supposed to be the end of it, Y/n. He was supposed to get control back from Lucifer and jump into the Cage. It was a good plan. Dean and John even approved it, much as they could, ya know, and it-"

"He really thought he was gonna get control from the Devil? Of course it didn't work!" You ran your hand down your face and dug your fingers into your collarbone through your shirt. "So Lucifer has his perfect vessel...what about Michael? Dean didn’t…"

"No, but John's other son did. Heaven brought Adam back from the dead."

"That was nice of 'em. The dumbass said 'yes' because of course he did. So...the fight is...is happening."

"Yeah." He waited a moment. "Come to Detroit."

You sighed. The End. The end of the fight. The end of trying to stop it. The end of the End. "I'm on my way, Bobby."

There was a dark cloud over the city when you pulled the Firebird in next to the Impala in the alleyway outside their hotel. You could feel the hopelessness in the air as you opened the door Bobby indicated in an earlier text and walked in. Dean's eyes raised to meet yours as Bobby rushed to you and wrapped you in a hug. You dropped your duffel and wrapped the redneck in your arms, happy to see him up out of the wheelchair.

"Since when do you walk again?"

"Oh." He looked down at his body as he stepped back. "Demon deal. Added perk. It's a long story."

"Family tradition, those demon deals. At least you got something good out of it."

"Fer a few days."

You patted his shoulder and smiled. "Comes down to it, all we got is a few days at a time."

Dean stood and stepped toward the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey. I'm sorry...about Sam. I know you were all hoping-"

Dean opened his arms but didn't hug you. He waited for you to step into the embrace, green eyes shining with unshed tears as he waited for you to make your choice. There wasn’t a big choice there. Hold a grudge...or hold the man you love. You stepped into him and wrapped your arms around his chest. His arms closed around you and you felt warmth and anguish in the way he held you. There was pain in his scent, anger and hopelessness, but there was a little niggle of comfort as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

There wasn’t a lot said. It was the first time it really felt like a last night on earth. Even the Angel seemed to recognize that things were done. The fight was over. Everything was about to be over.

“I want you to know,” Dean whispered as the sun started going down.

“I know,” you answered. You knew what he would say. It held different significance on a night like that one.

“No. You don’t. You really don’t know...I’ve apologized for pushin’ you away, Y/n, but I need you to know...I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I love you.”

“Dean. I know. Shhh.”

“You’re everything I ever wanted.”

“Everything you ever wanted Sam to have,” you corrected. “Now, shush.” The silence lasted for a few minutes before Dean left, saying he needed some air.

“We did everything right and it doesn’t even matter in the end,” John said, staring at the ceiling.

“Nah. We didn’t do everything right...and it does matter. What we do is more important than anything.” You sighed and leaned forward, resting your head on your knees. “I should have gone to Thailand.”

“Don’t you want to be here with us in your last moments?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. But I wish these weren’t the last moments.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, before standing. “We should go down...Dean is-”

“Leaving,” you guessed, rushing down to the alleyway without waiting for the others, approaching as he looked in the trunk of the Impala. “Dean?”

“You goin’ someplace?” Bobby asked. “You’re goin’ to do somethin’ stupid. You got that look.”

“I’m gonna go talk to Sam,” Dean answered, heading for the driver’s door.

“You just don’t give up,” Bobby chastised.

“It’s Sam!”

“If you couldn’t reach him here, you’re certainly not going to be able to on the battlefield,” Castiel tried.

“Well, if we’ve already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right?” Dean reasoned.

“Boy, this is a bad idea. I don’t wanna lose both of you,” John said.

Dean shook his head. “Too late.”

“I just want you to understand...the only thing that you’re gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother,” Castiel said.

“Well, then I ain’t gonna let him die alone.”

You watched Dean drive away, knowing that he was on his way to his death. “Fuck. We should follow him, right?”

“No. We need to figure out how to even up the chances a little,” John offered. “Hail Mary brainstorm session. Come on. Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...we’re all gonna die,” you said, looking around the room. “We are going to this fight...the fight...to pull distraction long enough for Dean to maybe get through to Sam long enough for Sam to sacrifice himself and throw himself and Lucifer into the Cage. We’re going to die.”

Everyone took deep breaths and nodded. “It’s our only shot,” Bobby said. “For the whole planet, Dean is our only shot.”

“And like the boy said...if we’ve already lost, what do we have to lose?” John said.

"Might as well go down doing something potentially beneficial,” you whispered. “Okay...let’s do this.”

Castiel teleported you to Stull Cemetery just in time to hear Dean tell Michael that he needed five minutes with Lucifer. “Hey, assbutt!” Cas called out, holding up his Molotov cocktail of Holy Fire. The bottle exploded as it hit Michael and he went up in flames. The Angel didn’t last long after that. Lucifer didn’t appreciate the Angel from the lower choir ‘dick’ing with Michael. Castiel exploded into blood and chunks of Angel.

Dean demanded Sam’s attention, but only Lucifer could hear. He grabbed Dean, intent to beat him to death, but Bobby shot at the Archangel, which earned him a snapped neck. John launched himself at Lucifer next and he was thrown across the cemetery, hitting a large stone angel statue. Michael reappeared as Lucifer was beating Dean’s face in with Sam’s fists. You grabbed Adam’s jacket, trying to keep Michael from stopping the altercation. Dean was getting through. You could see it in the hesitation on Sam’s face. You couldn’t let Michael stop it.

“You stupid fucking monkey!” Michael growled, wrapping Adam’s hand around your throat. You sputtered and kicked as he clenched his fist around your neck, cutting off your air. The sound your hyoid made when your throat was crushed like a soda can followed you into the darkness.

So did the sound of crickets. But that wasn’t right. There shouldn’t be crickets in Heaven.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, a sky full of stars greeting you before being filled in by the vision of hazel eyes and a smile. “John? Why are you in my Heaven?”

“Not Heaven, kid. We’re alive, Y/n. Castiel brought us back.” He offered you his hand and you sat up, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Who brought Cas back?” you asked. “Because didn’t Lucifer blow him to shit?”

“Yeah. Can only assume God brought him back, just like last time he was blown up by an Archangel.”

“Well, that’s...very nice of God considering that he...didn’t want to help.” John nodded, but he seemed distracted as he let his fingers move to encircle your wrist. “What’s wrong?”

“You...smell really good,” he whispered, his cheeks going pink. “I should…” He cleared his throat and stepped back away from you. “Think everything got renewed.”

You reached up and gingerly touched the area where your concave scars were. You were met with plush, plump skin under the fabric of your turtleneck. When you pulled the shirt away from your neck, you were met with completely smooth skin. No marks, no scars. Pristine.

"I'm…"

"Omega again." John licked his lips and stepped further back. “Unmarked, pure omega.”

“I’m...this is insane. I can’t believe he just...made me...a normal omega again.”

John nodded and cleared his throat. “I think it’s a real good thing, don’t you?”

You nodded and smiled. “I think it’s an amazing thing.”

“Why don’t we go ahead and see if we can find Dean.”

You smiled a bit sadly. “I know where Dean is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Dean through the front window of Lisa Braeden’s Cicero home made your heart crack. The pain was immense, a longing taking up residence in your chest as you watched Dean hold her, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. Scenting her...his omega.

“You could knock,” John suggested, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. You were sure he was trying to keep from physically comforting you. As much as you wanted the comfort, you appreciated John trying to keep his distance more. “You know he’d be happy to see you alive.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s dreamed of this, John. He dreams of her.” You clutched at your shirt collar. You'd changed into a v-neck on the way to Indiana, excited to show Dean but you knew now that it didn't matter. "He deserves her...and the kid...and any kids she might give him of his own. He deserves to be happy. Let's just...let's go."

"Are you sure?" John asked as you turned away.

"My car is in Detroit. Let's go."

You stared out the window as John drove. It was a blow but not one you couldn't overcome. Dean wasn't ever going to be yours and it was best for you to recognize that and move forward. You were a brand new omega. No marks, no scars from cutting the old marks out. No Dean. No Sam. John, well, he was being nice now but it was going to be best for you to stay away from him, too. You would do best by yourself just like you had since you cut your marks out. You were better alone.

"Don't leave yet," John said as he pulled the stolen car in beside your Pontiac. "You should get some sleep. Get a room, get some rest. Don't drive on this."

You reached over and set your hand on his cheek. "Underneath it all, you're a good man, John. I really appreciate it when you let that man out for me." You swiped your thumb across his cheekbone and smiled. "I'll get a room...but not here. Detroit is not a good place...it's where we lost Sam. Get some rest yourself, though."

"You've got my number. If you ever need anything, Y/n, I'll be there."

You nodded and smiled tightly. "I'll try not to need anything." You got out of the car and headed for yours. Maybe you'd actually travel the world this time. Maybe you'd just hunt the same as always. But you were going to try to not need a damn thing.

You drove out of Detroit and headed South, not stopping until your eyes began to vibrate with lack of sleep. You pulled over into a rest stop and turned off the car, lying the seat back and curling up on your side, waiting for sleep to take you.

Dean would be happy. That was the important thing. Dean was going to be happy with his normal life and you could be happy saving lives...without an alpha. Without anyone. Just you and the road and a good hunt...until you died.

You dreamed of Dean. You dreamed of taking Lisa's place in the normal life...so that you could be what Dean deserved. But even in your dream, Dean made excuses. "I love you...but I can't mark you." "I love you but I can't be with you." "I love you but…"

You blinked your eyes open a few hours later and gasped to see a figure in your passenger seat. You sat up and stared wide-eyed at Sam. "Am I still asleep?"

"Well, I'm not Dean so I'm guessing you're awake."

You ignored the gut shot about Dean and reached into the back, quickly splashing holy water on him and waiting for the sizzle that never came. You pulled your silver knife next and Sam dutifully offered his hand. "Why do you idiots always go for the most nerve-heavy extremity when getting cut? Take the jacket off and give me your bicep or roll your damn pant leg up, you jerk," you snapped. Sam just smirked as he pulled his jacket and flannel off. You were really expecting him to burn with the silver but he didn’t...and moreover, he smelled like Sam. He was not a ghoul. You laughed as you dropped the knife in the center console. "How in the world did you get out of the Cage? I know how hard it is to get out of Hell, but you went into Lucifer’s Cage."

"Can't tell ya." Sam shook his head. "Just woke up in Stull Cemetery, went to check on Dean, saw you and Dad...decided to follow you."

"Why didn't you say something in Cicero?" you asked, analyzing Sam's face. He seemed off. Why would he follow you instead of talking to you and John? Talking to Dean?

"You were with Dad...and I could smell you from across the street, Y/n...I knew you came back all new and improved. Wanted to see what you would do about that. Turns out...nothing."

"You didn't tell Dean you're back?"

"Neither did you." Sam tilted his head and smirked. "He thinks we're both dead...and that means he's gonna stay in Cicero with Lisa. He's going to live a normal life with a normal woman. He's not going to die on some job before he reaches forty. He deserves that...and that's why neither of us knocked on that door."

"So, you're just gonna dive back into the work headfirst and...forget about Dean?"

"Forget? No. But I'm going to leave him the Hell alone. He left me alone at Stanford for years until Dad disappeared and Jess died. Don't you think he deserves the same treatment?"

You looked away and pulled your seat up straight. "Of course he does. He deserves everything.”

“So, we’re going to let him have it, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam reached out and set his hand on your knee. “And we can have what we deserve.”

You looked down at his hand, disgust filling you. “Remove it, or I will remove it for you.”

“Come on. You don’t really have a reason to deny me. Not with Dean with Lisa.”

You reached down and pulled his hand off of you. “Dean is not the reason I denied you, Sam. Why are we backtracking here? You seemed to understand this before.”

“We had fun before, didn’t we?” Sam asked.

“It doesn’t matter if we had fun...because the fun stopped mattering as soon as you marked me.” The discomfort you were feeling in his presence made you slip your hand under your seat and pick up your pistol. “You were going to rape me, Sam. That kinda ruins any future fun.”

“You would have liked it, Y/n. I wasn’t planning to hurt you too much.”

Having him admit to it so nonchalantly, with a smirk on his lips, filled you with an angry fear. He didn’t even seem to care. It was worse than when he was hopped up on demon blood. You pulled the pistol out and pointed it at Sam’s temple. “Get the fuck out of my car, Winchester.”

He chuckled and put his hands up. “I’ll see you when you get your panties out of that twist, Y/n.” He backed out of the car and turned, a bit of a skip in his step as he walked away. You hit the lock on your doors and turned the engine over. You’d have to do your best to avoid the resurrected Winchester...just like his father...just like his brother. Best to stay alone. Best to get away.

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!john #alpha!sam #alpha!dean #omega!reader #reader-insert #angst

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alirhi · 3 years

Text

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

#fan rant #ragepost #long post #bucky barnes #mcu #captain america #the first avenger #the winter soldier #civil war #tfatws #mcu spoilers #stop victim blaming #victim not villain #never a fucking villain #bucky deserved better #fuck marvel #fuck disney

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adobe-outdesign · 3 years

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The Big Grand TIOL Review/Critique

I’ve been covering my thoughts on this a bit during my liveblog, but I figured I should punch out a proper review.

No spoilers review: This one’s a bit tricky in terms of reviewing it. The reason for this is that, in a way, I feel like some its weaknesses are part of its design, so it’s not fair to critique them.

Basically, DCTL is the essential BATIM novel, in that it does exactly what you’d expect a BATIM novel to do. Don’t get me wrong, it was by no means paint-by-the-numbers, but you had all the BATIM staples in there. Game-canon characters, the machine itself, people getting turned into cartoons, the Ink Demon killing shit, ect ect.

TIOL is different because it’s basically an in-universe memoir written by Joey about his life and philosophy. So the thing is, when you boil this book down, it’s kind of almost not a BATIM book in a way. It features a game-canon character and dives deep into his backstory, but most of the book has little to do with the studio until like the last 4/5s or so.

So on the one hand, I feel like that’s a problem, and we needed more game-canon characters, more about the cartoons, ect. But then again... it wouldn’t make sense for Joey to spend his entire life rambling about the studio instead of talking about his early years at all, would it? So in a way I can’t really fault the book for it.

In terms of flaws, it honestly has less than DCTL--while DCTL had some major glaring problems, TIOL is fairly solid all around, but is less of a satisfying read due to its premise, making it hard to compare the two.

In terms of whether or not you’d enjoy the book, I guess it’s most important to know what you’re going to get out of it. If you’re like me and like extreme character studies and backstories, de-fictionalized in-universe media, and long philosophical talks, you’ll probably really enjoy it. If you don’t and want something more standard for BATIM, stick with DCTL.

Overall, I enjoyed the book, though I do like DCTL more at the end of the day. I’ll give this one a solid 6/10.

Spoilers below the cut:

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Okay, I lied. I’m not gonna include an ugly section this time, mostly because, as I said before, this book has less glaring issues than DCTL did. With that said:

The Good

If you like Joey, you will love this book. I’ve said before that Joey is the best character (strictly speaking) in BATIM because he by far has the most depth, showing a layered and interesting character. This book takes that and runs with it, giving a deep look into his psychology, philosophy, and overall explaining a lot about why he does what he does and his way of viewing the world. It’s legitimately well done and makes you look at his character in a new way, and as someone who loves character studies this whole thing was a real treat for me.

They do a very good job making this feel like an actual memoir. Nathan is editing and leaves footnotes, he wrote a foreword explaining this is a reprint, Joey blatantly lies a few times because that’s what he’d do, ect.

Also, if you enjoy foreshadowing dialogue--which I do, very much--there is more than enough of that here.

This one might be cheating because it’s probably unintentional, but there is a ton of Joey being gay in this book, some of it really overt. I’m not going to go into it much here as Dreamfisher already summarized everything for me, but yeah, there is no way this man is straight.

Everyone who was OOC in DCTL seems to be better here. Sammy, while still an asshole, is neither as big of an asshole as he was in DCTL nor is he being racist. Bertrum is still affable towards Joey, but here it makes sense because they literally just met, and unlike in DCTL he even corrects him on his name.

Other characters get some screentime, and while brief, it’s nice to get some more characterization for them, especially because a few of them never showed up in DCTL. Jack Fain in particular gets some much-needed characterization and really shines here, as well as Nathan.

While it’s not overtly ha-ha funny, I did chuckle a few times. Most at Nathan’s notes, as half of them are just blatantly contradicting Joey’s lies.

We get a bit more info on Henry and Joey’s relationship, as well as how the cartoons were made.

The Bad

As mentioned above, there’s weirdly not a ton of BATIM content in this. Sure, it’s about Joey, but the bulk of the novel features book-canon characters only and is more focused on how he got where he ended up than stuff regarding the studio. It doesn’t really feel like a BATIM novel until about 4/5s of the way through. Like I said above though, I don’t know how much I can critique that, as it’s kind of inevitable with a memoir.

There is a lot of navel gazing in this. If you like philosophy you’ll enjoy it, but if you don’t it might get irritating, especially when it’s just Joey’s opinions over and over.

While we get more info about Joey and Henry and how they met, there’s not much info given on their relationship. Joey just talks about how much he totes didn’t need Henry while Nathan indicates that it was way more personal than that, but we never learn how personal. It makes sense as Joey’s the one writing this, but it still would’ve been nice to hear some more remarks from Nathan on the matter or something.

There’s like a 50 page or so detective mystery that I didn’t really care for. There was nothing really wrong with it, but it didn’t feel like it told us a ton about Joey, and there’s not a lot of emotional investment as we don’t know these people. Combine that with the mystery being unsolvable to the reader (because Joey leaves out crucial information until the reveal) and it just kind of felt like a pointless side detour, and like that time could’ve been spent on something more interesting. Most we get out of it is the origin of Bendy’s name.

There’s a weird inconsistency where Joey claims he made Bendy (not surprising), but he also goes over the moment when Bendy was made and it blatantly shows the two collabing, so at best he would’ve been Bendy’s co-creator. It’s just strange that he would describe the process like that instead of changing it to fit his lie. I think the implication is that the process itself is fake--that Henry had nailed Bendy’s design when he first showed it to Joey--but like I said, the scene contradicts Joey’s claims regardless.

There’s not really a... plot? Not surprising as it’s a memoir, but some memoirs do a good job of building a climax by showcasing an important moment in the person’s life. Here, because things are being told out of order, we never really get a climax, as there’s no action and Joey’s little emphianys are scattered throughout. There’s kind of just a lot of people standing around and talking and not much actual action going on.

I was kind of hoping this book would go into Joey’s black magic stuff. I need to make this clear: I don’t think BATIM should ever go into this too much, as it’s really just the macguffin that explains the plot, and it wouldn’t make sense for Joey to sit there talking about all the cool satanic bullshit he’s been doing lately anyway. However, Joey’s mentioned the “Gods” before, so I was kind of hoping for something about his thoughts about religion or something that would hint at the demonic stuff. He thinks about the afterlife a lot, but that’s about it.

Overall

Like I said, you have to know what you’re getting into when you pick up the book. If you read this and it sounds like something you’d enjoy, then grab it. If not, then don’t bother. For me, personally, I’m glad I read it, even if it wasn’t quite on the same level as something like DCTL.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #batim: illusion of living #the illusion of living #joey drew #liveblog #kind of #outdesign posts things #outdesign analyzes things #also I didn't include this one because it's more of an aesthetic thing but it is nicely printed and presented

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