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angi-writes-filth · 10 months

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An art student's ramble about Lobo from Puss In Boots

As y'all know I'm a visual artist so ofc I'm aware that a HUGE part of creating visual content is intentional. Like, chances are if you see something being made a certain way, there was thought behind it. There are references being made and/or this was done with a specific intent in mind.

So ofc the moment I saw THIS

I was like.... why?

Why why why?? Why the pose? Why is it so symmetric? Why the balance in all the scenes and his figure and design WHY??

(rambles about visuals, possibly grotesque imagery and talks about death, various gods, and tons of pictures BEWARE)

Then I realized HOW MANY REFERENCES to other Gods/omens of death The Wolf has??? Like:

Death. Straight up.

(I don't think I need to explain myself for this one...)

Kinda cool how they decided to include a more "scythe-looking weapon" at the end, only when Lobo decides to get serious. Kinda like he's becoming more "Grim Reaper-y" when he stops playing around. More on DW's choice of weapons for our edgy furry friend later honhonhon.

Big Bad Wolf

The universal, historical omen of death. Present in many stories like Little Red Riding Hood and The Three Little Pigs to name a few. Always the ultimate symbol of evil (fun fact: Most old bedtime stories we know today are passed from generation to generation; by the time these were created and put to use, it's most likely they were either made to warn children not to wander off into the woods for fear of being eaten predators, or for the risk of running into criminals shunned out of society and who normally retreated into the forests since they had no other place to live and couldn't leave the fiefs.)

Wolves are also predators that chase their preys, and exhaust them before going in for the kill. Much how like he does during the movie.

Also, it's possible Lobo isn't even the true form of Death in this universe. It may very well be the form he adapted to scare off Puss in particular; because canine v.s. kitties amirite?

(this could also be a huge stretch but the dark patch of fur on his face reminds some people of a bird, which could be interpreted as a crow. i personally think it's just a design element to attract more attention to the face/make his eyes stand out more but i included it cuz why not).

El Silbón/El Silbador

"El Silbón" (The Whistler; also known as "El Silbador" in Colombia) is a legend from Venezuelan origin of a young man condemned to carry the bones of his father, whom he himself killed.

It is said if his whistle is to be heard, the more far away it is, the closer you are to your death.

Could also explain why the hell the Wolf is Latino LMAO. (Hearing him talk full sentences in Spanish scared me to Death haha get it? d-death)

Charon's Obol

The bribe for Charon, the ferryman who carried the soul through the river that divides life and death.

Osiris

This was one of the things I found interesting the most lmao. Like, I knew that pose reminded me of something...

I've read many people attribute this to Anubis, but from my research, it's actually not. This pose was used in sarcophagus by Pharaohs to resemble the God of the Underworld and Judge of the Dead, Osiris. What Osiris holds to his chest are a crook and flail.

Wikipedia offers the following explanation:

Traditionally crossed over the chest when held, they probably represented the ruler as a shepherd whose beneficence is formidably tempered with might. In the interpretation of Toby Wilkinson, the flail used to goad livestock, was a symbol of the ruler's coercive power: as shepherd of his flock, the ruler encouraged his subjects as well as restrained them.

AND NOW WHAT I ACTUALLY WANTED TO TALK ABOUT!!!

Lobo's Symmetry

Okay this is a purely personal take, but am I the only one who found it incredibly interesting how balanced and symmetric his design is?

A rule of thumb when designing interesting-looking characters is to say fuck you to symmetry and balance. It usually works for a much more exciting silhouette and generates more visual interest. However, in Wolf's case, they made a ton of effort to make him look extremely symmetric.

His face doesn't have any distinct marks that separate one side from the other.

His cloak is a triangular shape that converges somewhat in the middle (the only element that breaks the overall perfect sillhouette).

And they went out of their way to divide the Grim Reaper's signature scythe into two: Which he usually holds to his sides, almost at the same height. Like, why would they? Why bother to do all that?

WELL WHY DON'T WE ASK OUR KINGS OF SIMMETRY THEMSELVES, HUH?

T h e E g y p t i a n s (insert papyrus font here)

Symmetry is usually seen as the ultimate form of perfection. It is unachievable by most human standards, so it is notably known for causing feelings of detachment to a figure, even if it is recognizably human.

If you had a person who was entirely, perfectly symmetrical on both sides of their face, changes are, the uncanny valley effect would be triggered. Try grabbing a picture of a person's face, flip one of its sides and connect it with the other....... Looks weird, right?

The uncanny valley effect is normally used to depict images of deities and the like, because it usually instills the most literal form of 'fear of God'. Something that is so perfect that, by its presence alone, it makes you feel awkward.

The same principle is used by architects in churches even today: The more other-wordly, detached but still recognizably human you get, the more a person is made to feel powerless and awkward. Thusly, easier to control.

In summary, Wolf's design is made to look as symmetric and balanced as possible because he's supposed to feel other-worldly, even before we find out who he is. He's supposed to resemble something unachievable by human standards because he's not human. He's supposed to look out of place because he's Death. Straight up.

Every aspect of Lobo's design is sooo carefully thought out I just LOVE IT. Like have you noticed how his eyes stop giving off light during the scene we find out he's actually DEATH???

I JUST-- I LOVE THE WORK DREAMWORKS PUT IN THIS CHARACTER. I LOVE HOW HE'S JUST SIX MINUTES INTO A 1 HOUR 40 MINUTES MOVIE AND HE SOMEHOW STILL STOLE THE SHOW. I LOVE HOW YOU SPEND EVERY MINUTE GLUED TO THE SCREEN, ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED OF WHEN YOU'LL HEAR THAT STUPID WHISTLE NEXT.

Edit: I don't understand why, but Tumblr is fucking with the formatting and I've been trying to fix it, but I can't. It's genuinely upsetting me lmao but yeah. I promise it looks better when it's in my drafts but the moment I save it, it justttttt does whatever it wants. I'm so sorry! Edit: I THINK I FIXED IT GUYS say THANK YOU to fumbling with HTML, fucking everything right up to the point where the post itself doesn't know what to do and gives up with my ass like "OKAY OKAY I'LL FIX THIS MYSELF GOD"

#I'm not a furry BUT #That's the worst sentence I've ever written in my life but HEAR ME OUT OKAY #I'm not a furry but I'd LOVE to rub Lobo's belly #HE LOOKS LIKE A DOGGYYYYYY!!#He triggers my monkey brain who sees a fluffy canine-like creature and thinks OHHHH WHO'S A GOOD BOOOOYYY //intense belly rubs #Makes me wanna scratch behind his ears when they flop around after he removes his hood HE LOOKS SO CUTEEEE #When he's not like....... Looking into my soul through the screen that is #dreamworks #dreamworks animation #puss in boots #puss in boots 2 #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #puss in boots wolf #puss in boots lobo #angi rambles filth #No one's gonna read this shit I already know #But I needed to get all this out of my system #And I don't wanna spam my friend Lunxi's DMs even though it's HER HUSBAND I'm gushing about #DEADLYROCKET SHIPPER HASTA LA MUERTE ÑAÑAAÑÑAÑA

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hcdragonwrites · 7 months

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Missing Flowers ( @semisolidmind Fanfic)

I wrote this because I was inspired by another bit of work. This one is sweet ans short and Mac centric. Inspired by this ask! Twice as Bad Au make brain go brrrr

Tw for some violence mentions and some allusions to intimate behaviour (it is not detailed at all - in fact you may miss it entirely - but it is alluded to thats why I mention this)

As the sweet scents of spring created on the wind, carrying blossoms and the soft buzzing bodies of bumblebees, Peaches felt a deep pang of loss. Outside in the spring air, walking along the edge of the mountains with the small attendants she was given, she looked out beyond the sparkling sea. Beyond the mountains and the sky and all that lay between. She imagined she was looking homeward. To her village.

She missed her village, missed her people who she knew as family and as friends. She missed the smell of the earth, the taste of the rain on her tongue and how the sun angled itself through her shuttered windows to cast the dust motes in startling detail as they passed through the beams. It had been over a decade now since her marriage of ‘demonic fashion’ to the rulers of Flower Fruit Mountain. The ache never would go away- it would linger like a hole in her smile, a tooth lost and never replaced.

However it wasn’t her village today that was making her homesick.

Peaches had a little patch of earth, maybe an acre large that she had dedicated to the propagation of flowers and fruits, vegetables and all manner of growing things. It had taken years of careful selection, of collecting seeds from far and wide, of dedicated research and late nights in the snow and the ice and the building of her greenhouse to gather the collection she had had.

Peaches had turned the soil, mixing it with her grass clippings, ash from the fire place, and the compost to enrich it. It had been years of careful and quiet work to build her collection of plants. The glass bits for her greenhouse had costed her years and years of hard work. She had been unable to have it as large as she wanted but it was enough. Within the wooden little wall sat her favorite flowers, the precious few she had bargained and hunted for, the seeds and clippings, were all here safe within the wooden walls.

All her work over the past few years gone in a flash of fire and a slash of violence. What had happened to her little home? Was the house standing? Rotting in its neglect of the years. Did someone take over her home if it was still standing?

The stairs would need replacing. The second one had been creaking before her kidnapping. The wood had been softening and she had her eyes on a tree just beyond her garden. She had planned to cut it free and carve a new replacement. What of her animals? She had had a small herd of goats, little bleating creatures of brown and white.

The goats had been her source of fresh milk, meat and weed control. Each had been given a name. Each had been loved.

Had they been able to get away?

Had they been burned in the fire?

Peaches knew that the flowers and fruits she had were gone. Those couldn’t have escaped the fire - or the human retribution that would follow from any survivors.

Would Wukong have left survivors ? The Sage had come home many a times from such violence. He had woken her with cold hands grasping and seeking her out. He buried them in her hair or twined them in her fingers. Wukong would pull her to him and away from her own makeshift nest within their bed. In those early days he had not learned that the smell of fire and blood would upset her.

Those nights his blood had been on fire from conquest and he wanted only to enjoy the comfort of one of his dearest prizes. Her. Wukong would touch and whisper love into her ears as he fell asleep, a peace only she could bring in the aftermath of those bloodbaths. Sometimes she would wake in the morning to find blood smeared along her cheeks and in her hair.

It had been one of the times Macaque had found her hyperventilating after such a morning covered in blood that wasn’t hers, confused to where it could be from, and the memories of the night when the drunk had invaded her home.

And her world had changed. She had been pulled to his arms, her own chest pressing to his. Instructed to follow his breathing, to listen to the air whoosh from his body. To hold. Then to fill again like the bellows of a blacksmiths forge. And then to deflate.

When her breathing did not sound like the frantic flapping of a broken birds wing, thats when Macaque had asked her what happened. What had triggered her memories. Peaches asked how he knew- and her second husband rubbed a thumb beneath her eyes and caught a tear.

“You were screaming. Telling me to stop burning the village.” The words sounded sad. Not remorseful. Never remorseful for the actions that led here here. That brought her to residency in the mountain. The sadness was instead about the scars left behind, the invisible wounds that their actions had created.

After that, Wukong never came to bed smelling of blood or fresh from a conquest.

Wukong would never leave survivors of the village. Not after what he thought was a slight to her, to his perception of what was his. An extension of his own self importance. No. That seemed wrong even as Peaches thought it. Maybe she was an extension of his grandeur. But she wasn’t just a prize to be turned and looked at. Somehow, in some way, he had fallen in love with her.

Love for Wukong- for Macaque- was not like human love. Just as two peach trees could produce different fruits. Peaches knew that love between people was more of a communication, a build up to a relationship. At least in the best situations. Demons however … it was more draconic in a sense. To claim and catch, to conquer before another could take the prize between its claws and keep for themselves. Like dogs fighting over scraps, love was something to catch and hoard and keep.

Maybe it wasn’t so different from humans. Stories and mythologies had been woven of love like this. Men had gone to war and killed thousands of others in the name of one paramour, one love.

Wukong had done that. He had taken a conceived obstacle and removed it. He had snatched her as a wolf would steal a lamb in the cold of winter, taking her back to the mountain. Devouring her freedom to secure his happiness. When his brother came to see, to wonder at why their paramour was here. It hadn’t taken much convincing. It was as natural as breathing to take in their world.

Peaches attendants, those young ladies, waited patiently. Peaches stared out across the world and wished she had the eyes of eagles to stare and devour the miles so she could see for herself.

Was her garden truly gone? Had anything wild had been left behind ?

Had the apple trees gone wild? Were green granny smiths now growing wild among the pink ladys and dorsett goldens? Were the nectarines falling from the trees to rot beautifully in a horrid flash of sweet sick decay? Did the bees still pollinate whatever roses and hydrangeas survived ?

Had the fire consumed everything?

She missed her garden. Her plants. She missed her home.

She had been so lost in thought that she didn’t notice how her Ladies in waiting called out- she didn’t notice the shadow length beneath her feet. Until suddenly the ground was not ground at all but a gaping black hole- and she fell screaming.

Right into a warm embrace and soft fur that smelled like orange blossoms and plum wine. Laughter bubbled out of Macaque bare chest. “I would think the Queen would be more aware of her surroundings by now.”

Peaches pulled away enough to hook her husband with a scowl. It was half hearted as the demonic monkey dipped downward and pressed his lips to the side of her face in soft peppered kisses. Peaches laughed at the affection, able to ease into the comfort that the six eared macaque had grown between them. The chestnut trees above them rattled like ladies whispering as casting the sunlight like dice over a game.

“Some brutes don’t walk - some slink in shadows.” Peaches teased back. She lifted a hand up and along Macaques face. Her fingers touched his ears- all six on display today instead of being glamoured and hidden. The large clawed hand tightened beneath her as she brushed her hands over them. Macaque leaned into her touch, pressing his face, and her hand, into hers.

“Slink?” The monkey teased. They were beneath a cluster of chestnut and beech trees. A whole new position upon the mountain - possibly leagues across the great kingdom.

“Slink?” Macaque nipped her ear and she yelped in surprise- cheeky like. “I do not slink.”

And then the stomach flip as the magic pulled them in. The very shadows that seemed to seep and flow through macaques black fur, the ebbing of ocean currents between the jetties of his being. The cold kissed her nose, the sun flashed. Peaches blinked as the orientation of the sky reasserted itself. They were closer to Water Curtain cave now. The mosses and lichens that grew in the soft moisture were tell tale signs.

“I merely use what I have to my advantage.”The Six Eared Macaque pulled his wife into himself as he began to walk. In her decade here she had begun to see the mountain like a second skin. Each turn of stone was becoming like a new crease in her skin. Here she understood that, even though the forest was near the palace, it was no where she had treaded recently.

Her husband was taking her somewhere. But where ?

“You left my ladies in distress.” Peaches asked. The steps against the forest floor were soothing. Would she allow herself to be soothed ? It was easier for Peaches to forget the scars that marred her when it was Macaque. With Wukong …

It would always be a sore spot. Always be cut that had healed too thin and the scar left behind would ache in the cold.

“I left them with a note that said I was taking my wife for a moment.”

How different the world would be if they had just asked her to come with them. Had the two brothers even floated the idea between each other? Thought to show her the beautiful mountain and let her fall into it and in love with it ? Peaches knew she would have come. The beauty here was unmatched - the fruits and flowers and plants and growing things would have stolen her away faster then a demons courting could ever achieve. If her boys had only asked her… only shown her….

“How are you Peaches ?” Macaques voice was soft.

“I am… far away.” She decided to be honest.

“The memories again?” Soft, gentle. Her sweet boy was still there. Still within this … sorrow. Peaches had found the little monkey bleeding among her hydrangeas and honeysuckle. The white and purple petals were turned crimson and crushed beneath the tiny body. Of course he had been a wild thing, a furious flash of teeth and claws. Any animal would be. So when the weak little monkey bit into her hand she hadn’t flinched. Instead she had waited, taking a blanket to scoop the poor creature up and into her arms- and to contain those claws. The bite was foolish- what she did was foolish- but… she was a foolish women.

The bite was deep, the pain a lance in her mind. Those teeth were large enough, sabers in gums - knives of nature that cut into the soft pad of her flesh. He didn’t let go, he didn’t release her hand until the blood on his flank was cleaned. Until the gash in his side had been sewed shut. He was too weak to worry her flesh into ruin. To take his pain and tear her apart. He could have. Though small, though at a disadvantage, the little was gifted with weapons where Peaches had been gifted none. She was soft handed, soft as a magnolia flower. No claws no teeth no strength.

Yet he did not tear her apart. The tiny monkey was left alone after he was patched up. A bowl of water, a small basket of peeled mandarins. And the window- left open to let in the wet jungle air. Her kindness had cost her her hand- the day after it was purple and swollen. It was hard to work in the soil- to work in the garden and her little farm. She had carrots to pull, goats to milk, and trees to prune. By the end of the day she could barely close the hand and it had grown yellow on top of the purple. Like a plum trampled enough to ruin the flesh but not enough to break it open.

The next morning however, when she unwrapped to tend the wound and let it breath… she found the wrappings clean. The swelling was gone. The punctures were still there. But…. They had healed over.

She had been a fool. Peaches had thought it was from her tending that the wound had healed up. She had been a fool. Who would have known that her foolish heart would lead to this future?

“Its not just the memories- its a memory.” They had stopped walking now.

“Which one?” The leaves rustled above them. The air smelled of water and earth and stone. It was … calming. So the memory coming forward now wasn’t cast in sorrow. But in calm.

“Of you.” She reached up and pressed a finger to the very tip of his nose. “Of the garden. When we first met.”

Macaque grimaced.

“Not my best introduction...” He looked down at her hand. The scar was still there, silver moons along her skin.

“Are you embarrassed?”Peaches teased. Macaque paused. He set her down onto her feet, kneeling. His hands caught her wrist- the one he had scared all those years ago- and brought it to his face.

“Truly I am. I mauled your hand.”He kissed it, rubbed a claw over the scars, worried at it with his lips and his tender forehead brushes.

“You were in pain. And you healed it.” Peaches pulled him up. Off his knees. In these moments, these tender touches, was the sweetness that had grown between them. There was the flash of that little monkey she had saved. Who had slowly begun to bring her gifts and treasures. His first gift had never been showed. Macaque had never been talked about- as it had required secrecy.

“Lao Tzi had chased me out.” The simian smiled into her face, teeth flashing like moonlight. “Heaven was in an uproar over my thievery. But … they thought I was Wukong.”

“Mac!” She beat on his shoulder in play. Roaring laughter was rewarded to her as the trickier of the two loomed over and draped his arms over her front, pressing her back to his chest.

“I couldn’t let them know it was me!” His teeth were in her hair, soft croons and gentle nips being pressed to her skin. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”

Her cheeky six eared husband then began to press her and tease her in a very flirtatious fashion that turned Peaches skin flushed and burning. It was long moments and minutes after the teasing and the stolen presses of kisses and promises for later, that Peaches decided to open her heart a bit more to him.

“I miss it all. I miss the house and the village and …. I miss the garden the most. All my plants. My animals…” Peaches rested her face in his arm, drinking in the plum wine and orange blossom smell that was so thickly wrapped in his fur.

“All the growing things… do you think they are still there ?” It was easy to think of it here, when Macaque had been kind and soft to her. When he understood what emotional wounds were still healing, still painfully sore. The rush of his heart was against her ear was nice.

“Have they gone wild and returned to the woods ? What of the roses- they are the hardest here to tend. And the magnolia trees….” A bird flitted and flew its way between the emerald leaves. A dolphin flying through a sea of emerald green.

Macaque spun her suddenly, his hand gripping hers, his tail flicking. She was pulled along, hands grasping his as they walked faster.

“Lets walk. We will go and see the orchards and you will tell me all the flowers you had and loved and never got to tend.”

“I would tell you anyway.” Peaches laughed softly. “I loved my flowers.”

The look of serious thought didn’t alleviate in the wake of her laughter.

“You will tell me in detail and what seasons they grow- and what habitats they grow in. Who the traders were that gave you the seeds and the clippings.” They rounded the corner of a stone outcropping, the path before them becoming more well trodden. The path to the orchards.

“And I want you to find a piece of the mountain- get that foolish orange orangutang of my brother to help you clear it and drain it and turn its soil rich.”

The realization was dawning on Peaches then.

“Ma-Macaque…” Was he suggesting what her heart was starting to hope?

“You get the land ready.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I will collect the seeds in my journeys. I will find the best lines and horticulturists and gather you a collection that will rival the one we foolishly took from you.”

His eyes held hers. It had the same effect that a sunrise had on a snow trapped forest. The light in them was refracted and doubled as Peaches felt her heart fill. She didn’t realize that tears were dripping until Macaque was reaching up to coo and rub them free, calling to her in comforting familial tones a monkey would use to soothe an create comfort.

“And I will be able to play within your garden and see you smile like you just did. I would bring down the lunar gardens to see you smile again… as you did when i first saw you in that garden. ”

#hcwrites #hcfanfics #writing stuff #twice as bad au #bad end wukong #fanfic for semisolid #HERE YOU GO. A SWEET ONE #A MAC CENTRIC ONE #I see mac as a sweetheart #hes a good boy even though hes just as murdery and violence filled as his brother #jttw au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw fanfic #lmk #lmk fanfiction #six eared macaque #sem #bad end wukong weeeeee #this one was nice to pull out some other language i never use #just a fun little one #THIS IS NOT THE ONE FOLLOWING UP TO THE TIGER ON THE MOUNTAIN #I just wanted to write Mac pledging to get Peaches her garden back #because of course he would also love that garden- and her having come upon him #yes i think mac would have stolen some sort of healing potion or pill from the immortals #i mean #he did bite the fuck out of her hand #and those teeth?!!#peaches is glad he wasnt at any sort of mental place to shake and tear apart her skin #like a shark she would have been torn apart

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