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sunnyie-eve · 2 years

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Deserve Love || Childhood Friends

Paring: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great 2019) x Original female character

Word Count: 2896

Summary: Prince Paul is finally of maturity age and needs a wife

Warnings: arrange marriages, hidden feelings, jealousy

Next: Oblivious

"Your Majesty." I bow as she walks by me. "Lilia, shouldn't you be waiting with Paul?" She gives me a look with a smile. "Yes, your Majesty." I nod my head leaving to go find Paul. "Where were you?" Paul says as I join him. "Walking around." I say looking straight ahead waiting for his mother to come out. When she comes out to talk we listen to her speech. "That didn't go down well." I hear Paul tells Minister Panin. I huff while trying to ignore their conversation.

"You know what I find amusing?" Paul says as we walk around the fountain back at the palace. "What do you find amusing Prince Paul?" I ask looking back at him as I walk ahead of him. "My mother can't stand German's, yet she's German, and thus she adores you, who is half German." He says as we stop walking. "I'm sure it's because I'm half Russian as well and that's enough for her. My mother didn't want to be married to my father, nor did she like being a princess, so she ran off with me to here when I was five. She was friends with your mother before passing so that gives me another advantage." I explain to him.

"Wait, so you're a princess? You've known this how long?" He narrows his eyes at me. "My whole life. When I turned 16 my father found me. He's glad I'm living well here but at times wants me to visit home. So that's where I go off to at times." I give him a smile. "Does my mother know?" He asks. "Not to my knowledge. I haven't told her." I continue to walk again. "Why not? It would make that joke of us growing up and getting married at the right age even funnier." He laughs walking beside me. "As you said, joke... Paul." I laugh. "I don't think my mother finds it as a joke." He scoffs as we stop again making me sigh. "Don't worry, I know you would never marry me Paul." I walk off of from him. "I didn't mean it in a cruel way, Lilia. It's just we're childhood friends." He chases after me. "I know. That's why I said don't worry. Now excuse me, it's my reading time." I give him a smile walking off. "Lady Lilia, a letter." Peter hands me so I take it.

"Dear Lilia, to keep a promise your mother once made. You are to marry my sweet boy, Andrei Razumovsky sometime after you become 19." I rip the letter up since I actually couldn't stand him but of course my mother had to go make a handwritten promise.

"Oh, there's an official explanation? You probably drafted it. Hemorrhoidal colic, wasn't that it? Terminal piles. My God, I hate her." I hear Paul as I walk near his room. "Excuse me, but you might want to speak with closed doors or anyone can hear your conversation." I speak up standing in the door way making the two look at me. "Lilia..." Paul eyes me. "I thought I'd let you know. Might I add, that isn't near suitable for your coming of age ceremony." I motion to his coat before continuing my way. As I make my way down the stairs Catherine was coming up so I stop aside bowing to her. "Your Majesty." She stops in front of me. "Don't you look lovely, Lilia. Paul is lucky to have a friend as beautiful as you." She smiles then continues her way up the stairs.

"There is no lie there." Peter pops up out of nowhere causing me to roll my eyes. "What isn't a lie?" I continue my way down. "You being beautiful, of course." He follows me. "I thought you, like many, have a thing for Her Majesty? Oh, yes. I can see it." I smile back at him. "Can I not find you beautiful as well Lady Lilia?" He gets in front of me. "I suppose you can." I try to move around him. "Lady Lilia..." Countess Bruce shows up. "Excuse me, Zavadovsky." I nod my head going over to Countess Bruce with a smile.

When we arrive for Paul's coming of age ceremony, I walk with Her Majesty and Countess Bruce. "Why is my son so unattractive?" She asks looking over at him but I of course didn't think that. "It may be something to do with his father. The Emperor Peter was the ugliest man east of Berlin." Countess Bruce tells her while I keep quiet standing next to them. "Yes, and now Paul wants to be emperor too... The moment he was born my mother in law took him away from me. She left me on the floor, bathed in my own blood and sweat. From that point on... I really never saw him." The Empress says as Lieutenant Potemkin comes up.

As they talk about other things I watch Paul from where I stood. "Lilia, why don't you go over to Paul." Her Majesty tells me so I nod my head going over to him. "Prince Paul." I say in a joking tone. "Now that you are coming of age, how shall I approach you?" I laugh at him. "No different than before." I catch his eyes look down for just a second making me laugh. "What?" He asks annoyed. "Watch your eyes, sir. I thought we were friends?" I tell him. "We are and it's not my fault you decided to suddenly show off. Who are you trying to impress?" He rants making me laugh more, "I'm not trying to impress anyone because there is no one to impress. And I'm not trying to show off. The dress doesn't fit all the way if they were in more, so the ladies worked around it." I explain to him.

"Your mother would like to speak with you after the ceremony." Minister Panin comes to tell Paul making him sigh before we all head inside. During the ceremony and many different ceremonies and speeches, I sometimes zoned out because they were never interesting. Back at the Palace I wanted to change into a different dress but I had to wear it to dinner later. "I hate that women." Paul bust into my room as I read a book. "Yes, yes, you may come in." I motion for him to come in. "What now?" I set my book down on the table. "I am the heir to the Russian throne... One day. I've reach my maturity. I should get married. Run along and think about beautiful women." He paces around the room before falling back onto my bed.

"She tells you to go think about beautiful women yet here you are complaining to me? I feel so honored." I get up going over to him. "Shut up, Lilia." He groans making me laugh sitting on the bed next to him. "What if we go along with that joke? If I marry you, I at least know what I'm dealing with." He sits up leaving his wig behind. "You know she'll want a grandchild at some point after right?" I hand him his wig but he throws it across the room before falling back to lay down. "I'm sure you will have no troubles finding a wife. And what women would say no to you?" I lay back turning my head to look at him. "My best friend." He looks at me making me laugh. "Please sit up before I see something I don't wanna see." He sits up and pulls me to sit up too. "Even though we are friends... you're still a man. Trust me, you would end up liking what you see." I joke standing up going to get his wig. "You still have your birthday dinner." I put it back on him nicely.

"If we had to get married... how would you react?" He asks as I touch up the wig. "Glad it's with someone I know but then freak out about things farther down the line." I walk over to sit back down to read my book. "Do you think your father will make you marry someone?" He sits across from me. "Paul you know woman don't have a choice when it comes to arrange marriages. My father could easily marry me off with some man I don't know and my mother already has promised someone." I sigh opening my book. "Who!" He stands up shouting. "Count-," I was cut off by a servant who said it's time to go to the dinning room.

"To my son on his birthday in the expectation of wisdom! To Paul." His mother stands up at the end of the table. "To Paul." We cheer and I reach over to pat his arm. "Now, you may have noticed there is an empty chair. I have invited one of the brightest and best of our young men, and he's late! Ah, bon appétit!" She says as the food comes up to the table. As we seat her guest shows up making us all look his direction. "Lieutenant Potemkin, at last." She tells him. "I am so sorry to be late, Your Majesty." He tells her going to his seat. "Well, you look quite ravishing." She says making Paul give me a look. "Behave." I mouth to him so he eyes his mother. "Paul..." I lean over slapping his leg.

After dinner I was relieved to finally get my dress off of me, "Lilia!" Paul busts into my room again making me cover myself up as I change. "Would you knock!" I hide myself. "Sorry." He apologizes. "What do you want now?" I ask coming out dressed fully now. "Nothing." He tells me. "Then why are you here? It's been a long day and I'm ready to rest." I pull back the covers on my bed. "Can you come bore me to sleep?" He asks with a smile. "You turn nineteen today and still want me to read so you'll fall asleep?" I give him a look. "As much as I hate to say it, yes. Since I was six you have always done so..." We just stare at each other. "I am the Prince and you will do as I say so come along." He leaves my room. "You're such a pain, Paul." I grab a book following him.

"Lilia, may I have a word with you around outside?" Catherine stops me as I come into the Palace from seeing Count Razumovsky. "Yes, Your Majesty." I bow following her. "I remember watching you and Paul running away from the servants like it was just yesterday." She smiles over at me. "We did like to cause trouble for them." I agree with a smile. "Growing up you two said you'd always get married some day..." She stops giving me a look. "It was just a joke, Your Majesty." I let her know. "But you two would be so perfect together. I also hear you are a princess. Why didn't you tell me?" She tilts her head. "Umm, who told you?" I ask. "Your father had sent me a letter." She says making me sigh. "Your Majesty, I can't marry Prince Paul. My mother had hand written a promise to Count Razumovsky mother and father. His mother is already planning the wedding. As of today, we are engaged..." I let her know.

"Count Razumovsky... Maybe if I pull some strings so it can be called off. I'm sure you would be better off with Paul." She starts to walk away. "Your Majesty... It was the last thing my mother promised before she passed away. I have to fulfill her wishes..." I rush after her. "Is that what you want?" She turns to me. "I don't really have a choice. Can you do me a favor?" I ask her so she nods her head. "Don't tell Paul..." I ask her. "Of course, dear. Now you have made my job harder finding a wife for my son now." She laughs leaving me. I turn around throwing my head back as I walk back inside the palace. I didn't know why I didn't want Paul to know. I know it wouldn't bother him. I guess I just didn't think it was any of his business to know about it.

"Another letter, Lilia." Peter shows up. "From your fiancé, I'm told." He gives me a look. "Can you please not say that out loud?" I snatch the letter from him. "My apologizes." He follows me as I continue my way. "Don't you have other things to do? Places to be?" I ask looking back at him. "Why do you want me to be quiet about it?" He asks making me turn to face him. "Because it's no one's business. Now go back to work." I make my way to my room with him still following me. "Peter!" I growl at him. "I have no work at the moment. Can't I talk to a friend?" He carefully takes off his wig to scratch his head once we get to my room. "I don't remember ever discussing us being friends." I tell him. "We go by first names which means we're friends." He walks up to me which means he had to look down at me. "I hate being so formal with certain people." I look up at him.

"Stop giving me that look." I place my hand on his chest to move him back as Paul comes into my room like always, "So I'm told mother is letting everyone know I need a wife!" He shouts than sees Peter. "Don't you have work?" He asks so Peter puts his wig back on leaving. "What was he doing in here?" Paul comes over. "Just giving me a letter." I smile. "From your father?" He asks. "Yes." I lie. "What does it say?" He asks. "Nothing important." I go put it in a box to lock away. "Oh, you know my friend Count Razumovsky... I hear he's getting married. That poor woman." He chuckles talking a seat on the sofa. "Yes, poor me..." I mumble. "Huh?" He looks over at me. "I said poor her." I take a seat on the other sofa.

"Remember when we used to run away from the servants because we didn't want to stop playing together?" He gets up coming to sit next to me. "And when they finally got us to our own rooms it didn't stop us. I always snuck to yours in the middle of the night and you would be waiting for me." I smile thinking back. "They hated us." He laughs. "Especially when we pretended to have husband and wife fights. All the screaming at each other we did." I laugh. "I miss when we were young... When my father was alive. It was easier then." He takes my hand into his. "I miss it too." I look at our hands. "Why don't you want to marry me?" Paul asks looking at me. "Why do you act like you want me to?"

"To keep my best friend around and..." He lets go of my hand leaning slightly closer to me. "Daring, I'm here!" We look over at the doorway to see Count Razumovsky. "Andrei..." I stand up first, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I walk over to him. "I thought I wrote it in the letter. Has it not come yet?" He asks kissing my cheek. "It did. I just haven't had the chance to read it yet. Paul was just asking me about what to look for in a wife." I lie to him. "Then you should be a help becoming a wife soon yourself." He smiles confusing Paul. "Wife soon?" He gets up coming over to us. "Lilia hasn't told you yet? We're getting married. My mother is planning the wedding." Paul just looks at me turning red. "Can I have a word with Lilia?" Paul grabs my wrist dragging me away from Andrei.

"You're marrying him?" He shouts pulling me into an empty room. "I didn't have a choice Paul! My mother promised his parents before she died. She wrote it out." I explain to him. "My mother could have convened them to call it off! How could you marry him and not take mothers offer?" His face gets more red. "Stop acting so upset that you don't get to marry me Paul! You said yourself, we're childhood friends. It was a joke growing up. It was all pretend to us then." I sigh. "It wasn't pretend to me or a joke. When I was a little boy, I couldn't wait for the day for us to get older and actually get married!" He shouts at me. "Now we're at that age and it isn't going the way I want it to." He tells me. "Paul... I can't marry you. Even if I wanted to, I can't. She signed a promise." I walk up to him. "Just say no." He cups one of my cheeks. "That's not how it works for us. You wouldn't understand being a man."

#joseph quinn #catherine the great #prince paul #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #18th century

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chrononautintraining · 5 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @lindirs-gaze!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

1,216,174

3. what fandoms do you write for?

My current hyperfixation is The Untamed/Modao Zushi, but I write for whatever. I've got a lot of one shots for properties I think are neat like Welcome to Nightvale or Parks and Rec.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Passion for Mushrooms, Mountain Flowers, The Seedling, Family's Just Another Word for Something Left To Lose, and In Town for the Wedding. Four in Hobbit/LotR fandom and one Naruto.

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I really try to. I appreciate feedback so much. When I'm in a funk it really brightens my mood, so I want to respond and build community with readers not just drop a story. And sometimes I go months without checking my inbox which makes me feel awkward about replying. It's a mix.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Interestingly, Family's Just Another Word For Something Left To Lose, according to some readers. It's ambiguous at the end and *a lot* of people think Kakashi dies, which is not at all my intent. I was paralleling the same scene with Iruka in the anime, and Iruka survives. It did not occur to me that the ambiguity would be what so many people took away.

The one I wrote that's intentionally angsty at the end is all i hear is your gear, which has no happy intentions and is all just about Crowley being a demon in hell.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

So much of my stuff is romance with a traditional HEA ending, but weirdly the ending I like most is A Spy in the Shire. It's a happy ending for this one oc dwarf, but in the broader context of the series I think it both emphasizes the Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies AU happiness as well as justifying the many sacrifices made in canon.

8. do you get hate on any fics?

yeah for sure. And I am sensitive about it. If it hits me when I'm already feeling low, I usually have to stay away from fandom spaces for a while and I often lose the motivation to write at all. It sucks. Some of it I can brush off more easily, like the Iruka/Kakashi shippers who come onto my fic to make fun of the way Mighty Guy looks and try to pick a fight. They are likely children and I just don't engage. But the people who criticize my writing or a specific story for reasons they are happy to detail can be harder to ignore.

This is of course a very different thing than the helpful folks who point out that I've once again mixed up desert and dessert. Y'all are lovely and I appreciate the help.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Yes, as the mood strikes. ...the kind I'm in the mood for? Almost always romantic stuff between a major pairing.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Listen. Ron Swanson and Wolverine would be very good friends, actually. My Parks and Rec / X-men crossover is not crazy.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! One of my Naruto fics is available in Chinese and two of my Modao Zushi stories can be read in Russian. As I speak neither language, I can only assume the translators did an awesome job of making my writing smarter, funnier, and sexier than it is in English.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I find the idea of collaborating interesting.

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

This is not how my brain works. I pretty much constantly have a Current Obsession and then pairings I still enjoy. Right now, Wangxian invented love, but I'll always enjoy revisiting a certain romance involving Mister Spock or the Leverage Pretzels and Beer OT3.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I desperately want to finish my Zombie Criminal Minds series, particularly because being able to revisit it will mark the end of my pandemic / outbreak related brain gremlins.

16. what are your writing strengths?

speling

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

I'd like to do more with humor. I feel like I frequently manage to provoke a sensible chuckle, but I've read fics that make me crack up. Someday, I'd like to write a really Terry Pratchett style laugh-a-minute story.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Sometimes you gotta do it, because it's in keeping with the canon, but it's always best to do sparingly. If it's longer than a greeting or an honorific, I like to translate directly within the narrative or use a footnote.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Slayers. Yes, I was that anime kid in high school.

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite child? Well, I've never really cared for Pit Stop...

I suppose, back against a wall, I enjoy the world building in None So Blind. We just don't spend enough time in dwarven spaces that aren't complete ruins in the canon. Coupled with thoughts on fantasy accessibility and the classic trope of tripping a romantic lead into a pile of literal pig shit, I just like it. Good work, 2018!me.

If you'd like to play, please pretend I tagged you! For the meme, I'll invite @youhideastar, @primtheamazing, and @sunshine304

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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So, I’d actually heard this one before. This is from a 25-episode thing with stand-up from the late 90s/early 00s, and two of the episodes are specials they recorded at the 2003 Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I’d heard those ones before, as part of a different collection of radio episodes, recorded in various years at the Fringe. But I was happy to listen to them again.

This Andy Zaltzman routine is from one of those specials, in August 2003. I’d heard it before, and had really enjoyed that, but some reason hadn’t cut out and saved the clip, so I’m happy I did that now. This is by far the earliest recording I’ve heard of Andy Zaltzman doing stand-up, and one of the few scraps I’ve found from any of his pre-Bugle (meaning pre-2007) days.

So most of what I know about Zaltzman’s pre-2007 comedy comes from stuff I’ve read about it, and this set would have been taken from his 2003 Fring show, which was this one, his “great conspiracy” show. First of all, I’d like to quote from that Chortle review of the show, because I love this opening paragraph:

If brevity is the soul of wit, Andy Zaltzman must be the unfunniest man alive. He never uses one word when 27 will do and his heaps parentheses inside subsidiary clauses like grammatical Russian dolls.

Excellent. If I weren’t already a massive Andy Zaltzman fan, if I’d never before listened to anything he’d ever done, that paragraph alone would convince me that I’d like him. I realize saying things like this makes me sound about 90 years old, but fuck brevity, fuck a world with expectations that have been shaped by the limits of what can be expressed in a Tweet, language is meant to be used.

Andy Zaltzman remained so committed to this principle that about ten years later, in a Bugle episode from around 2013, a listener emailed that podcast to say: “I have been repeatedly told by professors that “brevity is the soul of wit”. I have become concerned that The Bugle might not have a soul. Please discuss.” Andy replied: “Well, in response to that, I’d say, you’re a cunt. Moving on…” And then actually moved on, in defiance of my assumption that he’d say that as a joke but then go back and add to it. Brilliant. I love the way his entire career came together to make that joke funnier, the way just dropping the word “cunt” should be a cheap laugh, but in fact he earned that one with every fancy language-ridden rant that preceded it.

Anyway, that’s not really what this post is about, it’s just that that very strong review makes me very much want to hear Andy’s 2003 show, and in absence of a full recording, I’ll accept this clip. I’ve heard Andy say before that when he first started out in comedy, he did purely surreal stuff, and didn’t have the guts to try to be more political as he didn’t know if audiences would like it. I know he’d started going political by 2003, because that’s when he set up his Political Animal comedy night, which was meant to let other comedians do that sort of thing in front of an audience that was expecting it. It sounds like this clip caught him in the transition, when he was blending the two. He never fully dropped either of them – he's always liked his weird, surreal stories that also make some sort of satirical point. But in this clip, it sounds like he was leaning a little more to the surreal side than he would in later years. Having said that, a lot of it is absolutely classic Zaltzman.

There are more celebrities now than ever before, in the world. There are also more facts in the world than ever before, and that’s just one of them. There are more celebrities now, and if the current rate of the increase in celebrities now continues, then by the year 2052, celebrities will outnumber ordinary people. And if that continues then by 2142, 99% of the world’s population will be celebrities. At which point the market will implode, and all celebrities will be merged into one giant celebrity, known as God. And the process will start again from scratch. Only this time, God will make the differences between men and women even funnier, and comedians will be the most powerful race on Earth. And after a savage and brutal war between the observationalists and the surrealists, into the power vacuum will come the singing comedians, and the world’s only currency will be amusingly altered pop lyrics. So please, be careful.

I liked this bit enough to type it out and post it the first time I heard this clip, but I think I appreciate it more now, as I hear it after listening to a bunch of hours of other Radio Four comedians from the five years that preceded it (1998-2003). From listening to those, I’ve noticed a lot more musical comedians that I hear from a selection of Radio Four these days, and specifically a lot of them doing pop music parodies. Also, he is not kidding about the “differences between men and women” thing. I mean, I knew that, I know that “men are like this and women are like this” is what you say if you want to make fun of how 90s comedy sounded, and I have heard 90s comedy before so I’ve heard straightforward examples of it. But listening to this many hours of that stuff in a row really drives home just how common that specific topic was in comedy at the time. So I have a better idea now of just how accurately Zaltzman was referencing his own industry.

I can also hear very early versions of things that would turn into his classic jokes. He was clearly so close to have developed the one he’d keep telling for years, in which he’d ask the crowd who likes democracy, and then point out that only half the audience could be bothered to respond to that question, so clearly apathy levels are high enough for it to make sense that voter turnout is so low.

You can also hear an early version of one his favourite bits, which is to report on some political thing, usually some type of violent conflict, as though it’s a sporting event. Sandwiched right between a fairly cheap joke about George Bush’s inability to read and a completely nonsensical thing about a magic foal, and a satirical description of TV news networks that was a lot more hyperbolic in 2003 than it is today.

Andy Zaltzman also absolutely loves taking a figure of speech and then exaggerating it to extreme lengths, ie. when he said News International in 2011 “Did not so much scrape the bottom of the barrel of investigative journalism as detonate a land mine in the barrel, then use industrial mining equipment to dig down several hundred metres underneath the barrel just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything”. Here we have an early version of that too:

It was a moment of truth, said George W. Bush, when the war started, a moment of truth. And I thought how great, that in that whole protracted saga, truth was allowed at least a moment, out in the open, before being smashed on the head with a baseball bat, kicked in the nadgers, and thrown down a disused mineshaft, out of everyone’s way.

And then, in classic Zaltzman fashion, he ends on a joke that does not quite work, structuring the whole set in a way to minimize the self-promotional potential. Brilliant. I’m so glad I dug this clip up.

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johannesviii · 3 years

Text

This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it

Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops

But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:

Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot

A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please

An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)

An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author

Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)

So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.

BUT.

In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like

It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)

Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga

It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.

So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.

How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far

Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like

My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter

He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later

Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays

If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst

The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt

His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”

It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time

Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort

When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore

Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me

Speaking of which

Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck

Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go

The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward

Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years

Also he’s a hobo

And also bi

What I’m trying to say is: relatable

Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent

I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it

Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier

At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997

Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house

Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke

Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it

You’ve been warned

At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival

This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)

So the choice is presented to him

In a very dramatic way

And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”

He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy

This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all

I love Yoh

So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this

Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly

And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back

Anyway

Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things

I still can’t believe it’s back

Johannes out

#long post #shaman king #spoilers #mild gore in written form at some point

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elysian-entries · 3 years

Text

One film, two visions; The Justice League

It’s 2017; the highly anticipated “Justice League” film, directed by Zack Snyder, is set to be released later in the year as a continuation of the DCEU.

A blockbuster movie showcasing the biggest DC characters uniting. Taking down the ultimate super villain; bound to fulfil millions of past and present children’s, as well as current adults and elderly dreams.

Then a fork in the road appears, Snyder and his wife, Deborah, step down from the colossal project due to the incredibly woeful loss of their daughter, Autumn. News hits the fans like a brick. Resulting in Joss Whedon and the Warner Bros. Studio stepping up to the mantle. Or at least attempting to.

Whedon's theatrical cut lost Warner Bros. Pictures approximately $60 million dollars. With overall painfully negative reviews and reception. Breaking the hearts of DC fans everywhere.

4 years, campaigns, hashtags, sky banners, petitions, and billboards later; I can’t say how many of us would have predicted receiving the holy gift that is the “Snyder Cut”, in its full 4 hour running time glory (in a 4:3 ratio, which somehow adds to the grandeur). 4 years of dedicated, passionate and determined people helping in any way they can for the cause. It was a journey to behold.

A large section in Snyder’s 4 hour venture is used to build dimension and depth in the characters. Making an absolute world of a difference. Something that was sorely lacking in Whedon's cut. The film had a completely different feel and atmosphere instantly.

There's no better example of increased depth in characters than Cyborg's (Ray Fisher's) narrative. I was engaged, and intrigued by his story. In Whedon’s cut, he isn't even given a second thought. His entire backstory was cut as well as his father's important role also being stripped. His scene where he sacrificed himself in order for them to find the mother box was gone. And it took away such an important, integral part in Cyborgs story, and in the film in general I believe and also realised having seen the two movies; the complicated but delicately developing relationship between father and son. And just the whole story in general made such a difference in Snyder's cut, it really is almost indescribable the difference it made. It just felt so much more genuine and heartfelt. Like a real developed and executed narrative.

In Snyder's cut we were shown detailed flashbacks that fully fleshed out his character, his morals and his relationships. Creating a much needed deeper connection with the audience. We experience his conflicting journey to accepting his responsibility, accepting the past, the "gift he has", and his purpose in the league. Leading into receiving closure. He was given great and meaningful importance and purpose in this cut.

Similarly, Ezra Miller's Flash was too given a largely more meaningful and impactful role that left quite the impression on me. His character was light-hearted and charming but still had those important, emotionally impactful scenes. Which were painfully lacking in Whedon's cut. I was left loving Barry Allen a lot more than I already did. Barry's scenes with his wrongly convicted father were hard hitting for me. They also play a large part in making later scenes more impactful. Like his detrimental importance during the final fight. In Whedon's cut his big hero moment was saving a Russian family. The overall the inclusion of the family was superfluous and extraneous, along with the robber at the start and many other things. Not only that but Whedon's cut gave the Flash a silly, attempted comical relief role. To be fair he attempted to give everybody a comical relief role. Which hardly worked because none of the attempts were actually funny and were at time agonizing. It ultimately lacked substance and came across as almost immature. The scene where Barry went on about brunch was painful. Leading me to ask, why? Why was this so important to film Whedon?

After re-watching Whedon’s version, I had gained a new found appreciation for Snyder's representation of Barry. '"Make your own future, make your own past"; he echoes his father’s words. "Your son really was one of them, the best of the best," as his theme "At the Speed of Force" plays in the background of this pivotal moment. A powerful scene reflecting Barry's ulterior motive, doing his father proud. Which invoked many tears. And still does whenever I re-watch the scene or listen to the song. As if it were the first time experiencing it. Thomas Holkenborg's soundtrack truly amplified emotion and made the scenes much more powerful, It makes for one of the absolute best scenes in the movie; I'd say one of, if not my absolute favourite.

His job in charging up Victor was completely removed and I have to wonder why. Instead Barry was left to participate in "bug duty" (bugs being one of his fears also). Barry's role in Snyder's cut, and that one incredible scene where he broke the rule was arguably better than Whedon's Justice League as a whole.

I think the only scene in Whedon's cut involving Barry that I thought was actually meaningful was where he was faced with his first real mission. And he was confronted with his fears of "obnoxiously tall" beings. He appeared anxious and frantic. Fearful. Communicating to us his inexperience. And Batman simply told him to just "save one". To which he then, without struggle, saved them all. And was also able to participate in the final battle. The "save one" scene made those achievements more meaningful.

The scene after they won the battle, showcases the victorious team standing proud; and Barry with a sweet, goofy, golden retriever-esque smile plastered on his face. What a loveable smile.

An interesting contrast is the scene in where Barry reveals to his father his new position at an “actual job”. In Snyder’s cut the father was absolutely over the moon, shouting at the top of his lungs, "his foot is in the door!" repeatedly in excitement. It tugged at my heart strings; his shameless pride in his son. Making me wonder how he would have shown his pride if he found out Barry saved the whole Earth and humanity. We can assume Barry had that unequivocally powerful underlying thought too. Contributing to his saccharine reaction. In Whedon’s cut the reaction was softer and more timid but nonetheless a sweet moment. Barry becoming bashful.

It was a sweet touch to have Cyborg and Flash finally fist bump during that victorious scene after Victor rejected Barry's initial advance in Whedon's cut. Ezra Miller improvising that “racially charged” line, acknowledging the possible racism attached to a fist bump I assume. The whole fist bumping being "racially charged" was not included in Snyder's cut. The grave digging scene was entirely different. Which I far more preferred. It was a group excursion. With a little positive interaction between the Atlantean and the Amazonian. And funnier, more light-hearted dialogue between Barry and Victor.

Aquaman’s contrast was interesting. In Whedon’s cut he actually sought out to obtain the trident to help the league (although he was always disagreeing with them). Compared to Snyder; where he was apprehensive and had to be hesitantly persuaded by Willem Dafoe’s character Vulko (who was completely absent from Whedon’s cut). This was also an importantly established relationship by Snyder. Arthur first makes his desire to help the the team known saving them from the water rushing from Gotham Harbour. He isn't acknowledged in the theatrical cut but in Snyder's cut Diana notices and takes a moment to take in his presence (I assume?). Then Barry asks who that guy is. And of course we all know, it's Aquaman.

I particularly liked how Snyder chose to include Barry asking for Arthur's opinion on military hats. It's an odd, minimalistic thing to include - the reasoning as to why I like it. I also thought it was quite charming.

A scene I think deserves a mention is when Aquaman is first introduced, and then rejects Bruce's offer, he then makes his way back into the ocean. A farewell song is performed. This was quite early in the film and I think the voices being hauntingly beautiful, yet slightly eerie/poignant set the perfect atmosphere. A well done scene.

His overall character was also contrasting. He became a genuine hero who was proved capable of more than water powers and silly moments. Including that god-awful lasso of truth scene. In the theatrical cut he was bitter, a bit of a joke, not caring too much about the events that were unfolding. He had more of a heroes’ sense of purpose within Snyder’s cut.

Gal Gadot did not gain too much from the extra scenes. Though different to the theatrical cut, Snyder had paired her with a repetitive character establishing theme. It could be referred to as ancient lamentation music. Hauntingly beautiful. Something I could only assume would be the battle cries of the Amazonian warriors and the Amazonian warrior inside Diana. In some ways possibly over used, though I thought it was brilliant. It has a special place in my heart because I love that type of soundtrack. The almost eerie, maybe poignant but overall emotion provoking type. Especially her introduction scene where she faces off against the terrorists )which was overall better in Snyder's cut) The haunting warrior moans fade into her classic theme to create an incredible atmosphere. And that atmosphere was definitely missing in Whedon's cut, in more than just that one scene. It was also sorely lacking the lamentation music. We also didn't get that sweet interaction between Diana and the little girl.

When Diana began detailing Steppenwolf and the mother boxes past to Bruce, the cuts were very strange and abrupt/awkward in some way. And it felt silly and rushed; and I think that perfectly describes the whole film.

Whedon's cut also included uncomfortable scenes. Almost forcing characters to be funny where it was just completely out of place and character. Or just downright inappropriate. To be fair, Whedon is known for the Marvel movies in which fourth wall dimension breaking and odd self ware/ironic jokes are heavily used. One of the main reasons I don't particularly enjoy them, but rather enjoy the darker, more meaningful DC movies. I say meaningful in the way in which we are completely transported into this universe; where it's taken seriously and has obvious effects and meaning to the characters. Compared to Whedon's Marvel films in which the threat is joked about and the characters make fun at their expense.

Another negative contrast is the colour grading and overall shots. A good example is the conversation between Lois Lane and Martha Kent. In Whedon's version the colour is poppy, reminiscent of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or The Office. As if it were an empty shell of a TV show. Lacking any artistic or symbolic aspects. Whereas Snyder's conversation between Martha Kent (who was actually Martian Manhunter) and Lois Lane was beautiful. The lighting was dim, with steam from their hot coffee creating a brilliant shot and conveying the perfect mood. Almost a piece of art. A lot of Snyder's cut looked as if it were ripped straight out of an incredible graphic novel. His talent when it comes to filmmaking is grandiloquent. Compared to Whedon's over saturated and flat scenes as if it were from a cliché sitcom.

Whedon also made the Justice League a lot more dysfunctional than it needed to be.

The scene where the team unanimously come up with the plan to revive Superman seemed really silly and lackluster in Whedon's cut. In Snyder's cut it was a genuine moment. A "wow" moment where the penny dropped. It gave me goose-bumps. The way it was implied, the explanation/analogy with the house, and then Cyborg creating a Superman visual as the team, standing around the table, stared at it in awe. All thinking the same thing. Without even having to say it (as Barry pointed out) It was a uniting moment. Whedon's version was just, disappointing. Lacking any impact at all. And it made the team seem disconnected in a way. Whereas in Snyder's scene the league's thoughts were in unison.

There was also an agonizing amount of Wonder Woman praise. I think praise is a...well...nicer way of putting it. It was more so adolescent boy humour, immature if you will; with her being the butt of the joke. To the point where it was little uncomfortable and borderline unnecessary. And to another point where Gal Gadot refused to do a scene, (the one where Flash lands on her) and Whedon insisted so much on still including it - that they used a body double. A scene so stupid and pointless it actually hurts. Why, Whedon?

Superman's main feature in this film is his moustache. Or, lack thereof. At the beginning of the theatrical cut, we witness the infamous Superman film scene, where we are introduced to his CGI moustache…then “Everybody Knows” by Sigrid plays as we see the aftermath of his death. I really enjoyed this scene, the song and the atmosphere. I think it was a strong start, setting the poignant mood. But of course it all goes out the window and downhill from here.

The biggest difference between the two Superman’s was the elimination of the godforsaken CGI removed moustache and the introduction to the “Recovery Suit” in Snyder's cut, which was a brilliant touch. We actually see Clark stumble upon the suit. A scene where various voices from his past, echo in his mind. An equally important and impactful scene; where he flied up into the universe, overlooking the Earth he is to protect.

I also really liked the whole, "Lois Lane is key" setup, with the eerie premonitions and glimpses into the “Knightmare”. Adding yet another deeper layer to the narrative. Setting the scene for Snyder's envisioned sequel.

In Whedon's cut during the first confrontation where Clark is confused immediately after his resurrection - the previous BvS battle is implemented more. With the "Do you bleed?" question being revisited. Giving us an unwanted closer look at the strange looking $3 million dollar CGI.

I liked Snyder's first confrontation better. It included more action and participation of all parties. And it was just a longer scene, making it seem more plausible and less silly. Before Clark reached Bruce he went through every member. Resulting in a little appreciated interaction between Arthur and Barry. I also thought Whedon’s scene showing Superman throwing Batman away like a ragdoll added to the ridiculous nature.

During the final battle. (Not mentioning how uncomfortable the colour grading was causing an unlikable atmosphere. Especially when it became daylight, taking away the exciting and intense atmosphere.) Whedon's Superman's entry was a little plain. Maybe cliché. Banging on about "truth" and "justice". Which isn't necessarily bad. It's just, maybe, too Superman? We then see the relieved faces of all the members. Batman's giddy smile was by far the best. It was nice to see genuine happiness and I think that played an important role in communicating to us Bruce's character arc. From lowest of lows, and his conflicting attitude towards Superman in BvS, to Superman giving him incredible hope. Though it slightly made me uncomfortable.

Snyder's entry of Superman was brutal in the best way. Appearing just before Cyborg was chopped to bits. Giving us that epic moment of 'He came.” Superman mercilessly rips into Steppenwolf for the next minute or two. No breakaways. Which was a great choice. It perfectly showcased his abilities. Though in the theatrical cut he was shown to be the only capable one of saving the world and being the real “hero”, in Snyder’s cut, especially The Flash, they were all shown to be powerful with meaningful parts to play.

Bruce Wayne appeared more guilty and conflicted about what happened in BvS in Whedon's cut. Though he was overshadowed in terms of writing by Superman and Wonder Woman. He also was the one who brought in the "big guns" a.k.a Lois Lane as a contingency plan in case the Superman resurrection went awry. In which it did. In Snyder's cut it was coincidence, or the doing of Man Hunter in that mysterious scene. Bruce was also quite tense and wasn’t too much a bright beacon of hope as he was in the Snyder cut. Even despite Snyder's vision of him being reminiscent and heavily inspired by Frank Millers version; darker, older, broken and violent in a way (which is brilliant) he still had this character arc. The lover’s tiff he suffered with Diana was irritating and what I thought was superfluous. Creating an unnecessary disconnect with the group. It wasn't an interesting sub-plot/complication at all .

Bruce's character arc (from the dark BvS time, to the hopeful present) was more thoroughly shown in Snyder’s cut compared to Whedon's. I briefly mentioned Bruce's schoolgirl grin when Superman arrived right on time. Though Snyder more effectively showcased this positive rise through his obviously increased in optimistic attitude. When the team are off the defeat Steppenwolf once and for all Alfred asks Bruce how he can be so sure of the Man of Steel’s arrival. And Bruce replies full of vigour, “Faith, Alfred, faith!” And in another instance Barry questions their strength against Steppenwolf due to the amount of demons he has won against. Bruce declares that, “He’s never fought us. Not us united.” It was a powerful statement that heavily elevated excitement for the final fight.

During this final fight, Batman basically goes out on a suicide mission. Then the rest of the league join him for a family reunion. The Snyder cut better represented this with an astounding freeze-frame, slow motion shot of the team. It nicely established the power of unity in this case.

The way in which Steppenwolf was defeated was vastly altered. Changed completely. Mostly due to Darkseid’s absence in the theatrical cut. Darkseid added an important extra layer of looming fear, and even gave Steppenwolf more depth. It gave him an important reason as to why he was doing what he wasy doing. As we saw his utter dedication to Darkseid. It alerted us of the larger dangers that were present. Steppenwolf’s death in Whedon’s cut was ultimately debilitated after seeing Snyder’s version. Instead of being anti-climactically eaten alive by his bug minions as the sun rose; (maybe it’s a personal preference but I heavily dislike the daylight, especially for action scenes) his head was chopped off, first horn by horn, then from the neck. His decapitated head thrusted back through the portal into his own world, landing at the horrifying Darkseid's feet, along with the terrifying parademons. Engulfed by a fiery hellscape. The horror that Earth could have faced. But still could face. It reveals the deeper and darker enemy, beyong Steppenwolf looming just beneath the surface.

A sinister tune plays, as we see the victorious Justice League looking back at them. The portal then closes. Although a victory, we can’t help but wonder what the demonic and powerful entities, far more powerful than Steppenwolf, have in store for Earth’s future.

The Knightmare vision being apart of that future. It's set up from BvS to the very end of Justice League. It's a very intriguing part of Snyder’s vision. The moment where you can link up and see the connections between all the post-credit scenes and the “premonitions” is an epiphanic moment. It’s a whole other narrative on its own that you can analyse, hypothesize and discuss. It’s a very intriguing/exciting concept to think of what would have been Snyder’s future movie where Barry (as we saw previously reverse time) goes back to warn Bruce that “Lois Lane is the key”, to avoid the whole disastrous scenario. We can gather that he is referencing what we see at the end of Snyder's cut, Superman turned evil. The death of Lois Lane, whose skeleton we saw Superman cradle previously, we can assume had a hand in that, and possibly the Anti-Life equation too. It's an incredible narrative, and there are few things I would love more than seeing the Snyderverse come to life on this epic scale again.

We also finally get a glimpse of Snyder’s joker. A very exciting moment for me. Seeing any new iteration of the Joker is an exciting moment. Could Jared Leto somehow redeem himself?

Well, it sure was infinitely times better than the Suicide Squad rendition. This Joker was actually eerie and unsettling. I felt almost uneasy watching these scenes, and his odd laugh caused shivers to form down my spine. Jokers comments about “boy wonder”, whom we find out was indeed Bruce’s adoptive son, were heartbreaking (I believe he was actually referring to Dick instead of Jason surprisingly as his grave was once seen in a previous movie) Leaving me holding my breath, wondering what Bruce would say next, or what other wretched thing Joker could say. Of course the "reach around" comment was a bit off, but I’ll just brush over that.

We also learnt of Arthur Curry’s death, Harley Quinn’s death. Proving that Snyder had such a colossal plans for all the characters, dead and alive.

It’s a poignant feeling; to see this incredible, vast narrative, just beneath the surface, unfold. Knowing that we won’t be able to see it fully developed. As of now.

While watching these two completely different cuts of the same movie; it occurred to me and I am sure many other people, that attempting to produce such an in depth narrative intensive movie on the small scale that Whedon attempted, will commonly end in a painful, empty and superficial representation. Or maybe that really was just Whedon's vision.

As the epilogue ended, the credits rolled. Hallelujah began playing, sung by Allison Crowe. And as they rolled, in big letters the words; "For Autumn" took center focus. White against black. Clear as day. Like a bus, it hit hard. The reason I was sitting on that couch finally having the great honour to watch such a film. The courage it must have taken to continue and finish such a project is beyond admirable, it's heroic. Also non-profit. It only further proves what we already knew, that the intentions were pure, as no one ever doubted.

Also acknowledging the giant billboard on one of the buildings promoting the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. A very important cause, especially to the Snyder’s. To date fans have raised over half a million dollars to the AFSP in honour of Autumn. A truly incredible feat.

When looking at the two movies side by side, it blows my mind to see the difference that I do. The emotion, meaning, the depth. It all just made sense in Snyder's cut. The emotion was palpable, absolutley unmistakable. Things mattered more. The people mattered more. There were reasons, and purpose. It was a genuine journey for every one of the characters, and I felt it. There were so many little scenes that made so much difference that added depth and meaning, emotion.

And I cannot say such words for Whedon, though I won’t put all the blame on him. Warner Bros. is about equally responsible. .

The true, original and intended Justice League; expatiated heroes, people, stories and journeys coming together on a grandiose scale, executed with passion and care. But also giving us a bittersweet taste of Snyder’s epic trilogy that could have been.

The end of the saga; and the rest of Snyder’s visions, are left unfulfilled; as of now. But regardless, remains as one of the things I hope to see come to life. Watching this movie, and the feeling I had during and afterward is indescribable. I want to say a massive congratulations to Zack Snyder. The film was beyond breathtaking. It really is so special and it will forever have an important place in my heart.

Though I think the most important thing to take away from the Snyder's incredible work is Autumn's story.

Thank you Zack Snyder.

For Autumn.

www.imdb.com/title/tt12361974/

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

Note

I looooved what you wrote for my first prompt!! I have another if you're down :D

How about Bucky starts talking about how hot/sweet/great he thinks Sam is in another language (not knowing Sam speaks it) but using an insulting tone so it wouldn't sound like he was complimenting him (possibly during an undercover mission, where Sam can't react to what he is saying) until Bucky goes on a "tirade" but really getting pretty graphic about what he wants to do to Sam or wants Sam to do to him, causing Sam to spit take or choke on his drink before Bucky catches on that he can understand and just dies on the inside until they finish the mission and Sam can respond <3 <3

Thanks again, Friend!

Always taking prompts <3

(never) Lost in Translation

Read on AO3

“Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,” Bucky breathed into the cold air as he curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle and shifted his hips against the rooftop. “То робостью, то ревностью томим; Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно--” [I loved you hopelessly and mutely, Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed; I loved you so sincerely, so fondly--"I Loved You" by Alexander Pushkin]

“Huh?” Sam asked on the other end of the comm line.

“Just trying to stay awake, Wilson,” Bucky answered. “Maybe you can sit out here and give your mouth frostbite.”

“Give it another hour or so and I’ll warm you back up, Barnes,” Sam promised and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice, which was enough to stave off the chill for a while longer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know who made a nest of jackets and my mom’s blanket next to my hospital bed?” Sam asked at two in the morning when Bucky slunk back into the hospital room and the mess he’d turned the two small chairs next to the bed into.

Bucky considered continuing to sulk in the shadows in silence. But it was the first time Sam was awake in nineteen hours and he was pretty fucking sick of the quiet at this point. “Sarah brought the blanket,” he said. He leaned forward to reach for Sam’s hand, curling his fingers around the bandages and splints gently.

“Yeah, but I know Sarah’s not sleeping in my room. It can’t have been so long that you felt the need to move in, man.”

“I’m not moved in ,” Bucky defended. “Just didn’t know how long it would be. And it’s fucking cold in this building.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sam tried to shift in the bed and let out a gasp of pain.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to move too much. Figured you could work that one out on your own, with that big ass cast around your ribs,” Bucky said. But his brow was drawn in in worry and he brought his other hand to Sam’s hip, arching it gently over the thin fabric of the gown.

Sam relaxed back into the bed as much as he could. “I hate sleeping on my back,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be sure they accommodate that next time your ribs are sticking out of your skin.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky agreed. “You’re gonna have to get over it though. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for a day,” Sam said. “Come on, can’t you believe I miss you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. And you can’t miss me anymore than I miss you. I’m the conscious one.”

Sam preened and then his eyes drifted shut. Bucky squeezed his hand gently and began to hum under his breath until the flickering of Sam’s eyes settled down. “Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi / Soir ou matin minuit midi /Dans l'enfer ou le paradis /Les amours aux amours ressemblent /C'était hier que je t'ai dit /Nous dormirons ensemble,” he sang softly. Sam let out a soft breath and finally fell asleep. [ Whether it be Sunday Monday/ Evening ,morning, midnight, midday / Whether it be in hell, in paradise, /Love-affairs look like each other. /I said to you just Yesterday: /We shall sleep together. "Nous Dormions Ensemble" "We'll Sleep Together" Louis Aragon]

“I told you to cover Torres on the left!” Sam shouted as he landed heavily on the rubble of the street.

“أنت تعني الكثير بالنسبة لي” Bucky bit back. “You were in more trouble than he was. I told you to get out of the air.” [You mean so much to me]

“I’m sorry,” Sam snorted. “Are you leading this mission? Are you Captain America all of a sudden?”

“أنت تجعلني أريد أن أكون رجلاً أفضل” Bucky muttered. “I’ve always been the one with the brain cells when Captain America’s around.” [ You make me want to be a better man.]

“For what it’s worth, guys, I’m fine,” Torres said. “Caught the bad guys. Didn’t get eaten. Alls well that ends well. Unless this is, like, foreplay or something for you two. In which case, I want to get back to the jet before you keep going.”

“Shut up, Torres,” Bucky snapped. “There’s a---thing behind you,” he added, exhausted and confused about what it was exactly that they were fighting. Torres turned around, too slowly, to stare at the limping creature of some underwater origin and Sam ripped the shield from his back to fling at the monster. With a squelch and a groan, it toppled over and the shield bounced back to Sam’s arm.

“إنك في غاية الجمال” Bucky breathed and rubbed his human hand over his face, smearing ash and sweat until it stung his eyes. “Torres, do an aerial scan for stragglers. Wilson and I’ll survey damage down here.” [ You’re so beautiful]

“Oh, no, Wilson . You’re in trouble,” Torres laughed. He clapped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past and then shot into the sky when the area was clear enough to.

“You’re too hard on him,” Sam said as he started to kick over blocks of asphalt. “He’s a trained soldier, y’know. He’s not some helpless kid.”

Bucky snorted and kneeled down to run his metal hand through a puddle of water on the ground, watching silver ripple across the current. “مائة قلب لن يكونوا كافيين لحمل كل حبي لك” he said, and then, “He was never trained for those wings.” [ A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.]

“He helped build those wings. He trained with Exo-Skeletons. The wings are in perfectly capable hands.”

“Make sure clean up takes samples of the water,” Bucky said. “I think there are organisms in there,” he said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants.

“How hard did you just have to work, after Torres put foreplay in your head, to not say orgasms?” Sam teased, shooting an easy, if slightly bloody grin, at Bucky.

“أنت إشراقة شمسي يا حبي” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get home. You obviously have a concussion.” [ You are my sunshine, my love.]

“Hey, just ‘cause I’m funnier than you and know your depraved mind well enough to say something like that doesn’t make me damaged,” Sam said, jogging to catch up with Bucky.

“Does he talk?” villain-du-jour asked, appraising what was supposed to be the Winter Soldier but was really just Bucky bored out of his skull.

“If you want him to,” Torres said with a shrug. “Most people don’t.”

“See,” Sam said in Bucky’s earpiece. “I told you he’d kill this.”

And, unfortunately, Torres really was killing it. Torres seemed to be afflicted with the same dramatic streak that Steve had, in that Steve was everyone’s best-friend-ray-of-sunshine until shit got real. Or the mission required him to play some shady underworld super-assassin dealer, apparently.

“I heard he malfunctioned with Zemo,” unidentified baddie said cautiously. “I heard the programming had been washed out.”

Torres reached over to cuff Bucky against the back of the head. “Does he look deprogrammed? Do you think I’d be standing here if he was deprogrammed?”

Bucky had to fight not to let a glare slide over to Torres. He kept his eyes and his grimace set straight ahead. He’d feel better if there was a rifle in his hands.

“It’s not my fault Baron Zemo didn’t have the balls to control the Soldier. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. But, hey, I could be wrong. In which case, I’ll just take him back. Putting him on ice is easier the less time he’s out.”

“I’m glad he never decides to be such a shit with me,” Sam said. The bad guy said something else and Bucky fully tuned it out. “Hey, Barnes,” Sam said in his ear. “What’re you wearing?” he teased. Bucky’s jaw jumped. “One day, we’re gonna see how quickly I can get all that tac-gear off of you. Or maybe just the top half. The rest of you looks damn good in black.”

Bucky bit the side of his tongue, listened to the asshole across the room talk about not being able to communicate to lapsed partners since he only spoke English, about wanting to send a message, about how many languages the Soldier knew and if he talked while breaking bones.

“Do you think we do better undressing each other on the jet or off of it. Sure, there’s turbulence, but we also have all that adrenaline pushing us on. Besides, I know you like things hard. You wouldn’t like me so much if you didn’t.”

“Soldier?” Torres said at his side. “A sample of your voice.”

“ I’m gonna throw my partner across that table as soon as we kick all your asses ,” he said in Russian. “ He gets pretty fucking quiet when he’s getting dicked down well. It’s actually the only time he shuts up. ”

The hapless moron across the room looked delighted. “What about French?”

“ You’d think getting him down on his knees would work better but it never has for me. He’s always gotta have the last word in edgewise. Lengthwise, as it may be. No fuckin’ hair to grab onto either. You’ve just gotta listen to him .”

“Spanish?”

“ Probably won’t stop in here. I’ll drag him back to our jet and do it all over again. Or let him do it to me. I’m really not picky when it comes to him. Especially not when he’s wearing the uniform he is right now. I like getting it off of him as much as I like how it looks on him .”

“ Damn, dude, I speak Spanish ,” Torres hissed back in Spanish. “ Spare my ears, please .”

The arms-idiot grinned like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, that’ll do. Your money’s in here,” he said, sliding a briefcase across the floor.

“Ready?” Sam asked in the ear piece.

“ We never speak of it again ,” Bucky said to Torres. “ If you tell him, I’ll drop your ass in Siberia. ”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Torres said, gesturing over to the other man. Bucky went and got them, Sam coming down through a skylight and Torres taking care of the guards behind them.

“I was thinking about getting my own place down here,” Sam said. “Even if it’s just a one bedroom or something. You know, for when Buck’s here too.”

“Tu vas bouleverser les garçons,” Sarah answered. [You'll upset the boys]

“Huh?” Bucky asked, looking up from toying with a remote control airplane that had an unfortunate run-in with a tree.

“They’re still not in French classes?” Sam asked. “Isn’t AJ old enough?”

“He’s taking Spanish instead.”

“Traitor,” Sam said easily. “Cela n'a pas besoin d'être codé.” [This doesn't need to be encoded]

“Votre vie sexuelle fait.” [Your sex life does]

“Ha! Comme si.” [Ha! As if]

“Wait, you two know French?” Bucky asked. The airplane had been thoroughly forgotten.

“Sure, it’s one of two languages offered at our high school,” Sarah said. “Sam was obsessed with learning Creole so not only did he take French, he took AP French. And scored a five on the test. Hey, aren’t you a polyglot, technically?”

“What?” Bucky asked as dawning horror unleashed a flood of embarrassment through him. And, well, a bunch of other feelings too, which would require French to say aloud, apparently. He packed those away.

“I don’t know if there are qualifications, but I speak a few languages,” Sam agreed and he finally looked over at Bucky with a smirk. “English, French. A little Spanish. The Air Force gave us Russian lessons. I picked up Arabic overseas.”

Fuck, Bucky though. Merde. Maldita sea. Черт побери.

“He absorbs languages like a sponge,” Sarah said to Bucky. “AJ is pretty similar,” she added towards Sam. “His teacher says he’s the best in the class.”

“Of course he is,” Sam said. “He’s a Wilson.”

A timer went off and Sarah muttered lightly under her breath. “I’ve got to run and grab Cass from school. Can you stay here and get AJ off the bus?” she asked, already grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Bye, Sarah,” Bucky called after her before rounding on Sam as the door shut.

“Hey, you never asked,” Sam defended, leaning back against the counter. “And it never sounded like you wanted an answer when you were serenading me in French. Gotta wonder why you’ve got Russian poetry memorized though--Hey!” Sam yelped as Bucky crossed the living room to the kitchen and stood between his legs, hands on either side of his body on the counter.

“Ты должен был сказать мне раньше,” he breathed. Sam shivered against him. [You should have told me sooner]

“Pourquoi?” he asked, like he was in any way innocent. [Why?]

Bucky brushed his mouth along Sam’s neck, felt his pulse jump at the contact. “Tu sais ce que ça me fait,” he murmured. [You know what it does to me]

“Languages?” Sam asked as his hand found the small of Bucky’s back and then the rest of his spine, up to his shoulders, the seam of his metal arm, his ribs.

“You showin’ off,” Bucky corrected.

Sam hummed because he did know that. “It was more fun to watch you think you were getting away with something. You get real sweet when you think I can’t hear.”

Bucky nipped at his collarbone and Sam gasped out a breath, almost let it convince him to leave Bucky there, but eventually pushed him away. “I was serious about getting our own place. I will never emotionally recover if one of the kids walks in on me making out with you. I’m supposed to be typifying standards.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched Sam’s side. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a smart one,” Sam said with a grin. “Which is apparently your type.

And, dammit, it was.

“By the way,” he added, “Clint taught me ASL, so I know what you tell him about me too.”

Bucky groaned and threw himself back over the couch.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #fanfiction #writing #anonymous #i answer things #winterfalcon

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reanimatedmagpie · 2 years

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It's just infinitely funnier to introduce Volk's story as "just 10th century slavic t4t couple things" also yeah, man's got three names, but it's not like modern transmascs are any different at all Sche'nok starts out as a wee village child that after some thinking and a very gender euphoria summer celebration ritual [one of our gods calls for a very specifically afab young person to represent him] he ends up kinda snapping at being told to 'finally start learning girl things from the other girls' as he didn't have a mom to teach him sewing n' shit. He ends up kinda causing a scene and running away, which got the attention of the village volchv

Now, volchv were a position to communicate with the gods and also... called for someone who had 'balanced feminine and masculine qualities' so y'know, very specifically a queer role.

Naturally, the volchv had followed him into the forest where he'd run off all upset and sees Sche'nok face to face with a bear obviously, the dad that just caught up panics, the volchv is about to try and coax the bear away but The kid looks the beast straight in the eye and with unprecedented hubris calls the bear not by the name of the bear among the common folk, not by 'медведь' which is the nickname by which people call it not to call it on the village but by the actual proper word bear

and it listens now, because the kid's clearly no girl, because holy shit you made a bear go away, and because bears are also a primary symbol of Veles, the god of night, winter, and all that is wild and unknown - the god to which volchv answer to first the volchv takes him apprentice [the old volchv is a gay man that's big and hairy because will I pass up an opportunity of having a character associated with Veles look like a bear? no]

The dad's kind of upset, less so because hh trans people, since transphobia is a modern invention, and more so that great, he had a son, after all, that could help him out with the blacksmith trade, but no, he has to go learn how to talk to the gods instead

The Sche'nok name that's given to the boy by the volchv means 'puppy' says 'we'll see if you grow up a dog or a wolf' Sche'nok doesn't protest, it's a fine name, and boy does he know who he is yet either

he studies all matter of things, does it well. It's not so much strictly healing that's up to them, that's more the job of the village witch, as much as making sure the village people have good means to talk to the gods, be it holding holidays, seeing how and when to give them gifts, what they have to think about mortals, and what goes on with nature these days protecting the place alongside with witches, in ways seen and unseen, from dangers seen and unseen

as he grows older, bit more rebellious, gets called Vol'chok [wolf pup] jokingly by his mentor more often he keeps on hearing whispers of the major warring city-states squabbling near the village, grows more resentful of the essentially helplessness of the situation should one of those attack One day that does come and as the village people worry as they've got little weapons and fewer battle-ready people Vol'chok slips out into the forest unseen with a desperate plan

people say if you stick a knife into a stump of an old tree and jump over it spinning you'll turn a wolf

[wild ik russian myths just be like that sometimes]

And so he did, donning a wolf's pelt for the night, and being a beast scaring off the enemies away it came with a price though, as, if no one is to bring him back and make him human again soon a werewolf he'd forever become

A village maiden had tried having found herself interested in him romantically, but, ultimately failed and forever now he'd be a man-wolf though if that's bad no-one's to say a village guarded by a werewolf is a safe one still, the enemies would keep coming and he alone would not be enough sadly with one day, Volk's mentor dead and him wounded he was running away to heal but hadn't considered the ice on the river still being fresh and brittle

he fell through and met face to face with a puzzled rusalka

rusalka are spirits of drowned women, often of heartbreak and tragedy, and often they lure men into rivers to drown them but Volk's a peculiar case

He's a little different not a woman nor quite a man, a human but not, living but not quite, not really mortal but no god either, just like Rekah herself so curious she had cracked the ice underneath those chasing him and brought him ashore unlike the human woman she could see what he saw the life to be, she, like him found a place in the world in being an outsider and had found it nothing short of comfortable

so she agreed to help drown the rest of the enemies in a flood if he takes her for a wife because wolf boy cute and why wouldn't you marry a furry

so yeah! t4t couple :)

Very much a finding place and fulfillment in being an outsider to the mortal realm the story :) I'm very much having fun w/em because it's really refreshing to write trans characters where they wouldn't really be under a pressure to transition or pass

#original character art #original story #ocs #fantasyart #trans pride #sort of nudity ig? like sure there's a butt there kinda #historical ish setting #longpost #russian folklore

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aroacemisha · 2 years

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Yesterday (if I remember correctly) I had a funny interaction my parents that I wanted to post earlier but forgot about.

So I was explaining the word "slapstick" to them and wrote it down on a small piece of paper to show how it's spelled (note: we're Russian), and then I clicked the pen, and after a few clicks I realized (in part thanks to my mom telling me) that it was actually a pencil and didn't need to be clicked, because that just made it longer. This interaction followed, translated from memory:

Dad: I also forget that it's a pencil. I used it to draw on a napkin and didn't notice.

Mom: Why did you do that?

Dad: It looks like a pen.

Mom: But why did you draw on a napkin?

Dad: I needed to keep my hands busy while I was on the phone.

I laughed at the "but why did you draw on a napkin?". It was funnier to listen to and I should've posted it right after, but as I said, I forgot about it.

#misha's life shenanigans

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nellied-reviews · 4 years

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The Empty Man Cometh Re-listen

Hey, it's episode 9 of my Wolf 359 re-listen, which means it's time for a particularly iconic episode:

The Empty Man Cometh

In which Eiffel freaks out, Minkowski freaks out and Hilbert freaks out. Seriously, that's the whole episode.

This episode, like I said above, is iconic. It's memorable, it's tense, and it's funny, in a dark, weird sort of way. Plus, it's the example par excellence of why Command are the Actual Worst. I had some very fond memories of it, going in, many of which it didn't entirely live up to, even if I generally enjoyed the episode.

As the episode begins, though, it does set its situation up really well. We have an ion storm incoming, after all, which works as a handy bit of spacey technobabble. We kind of suspect, until the final reveal, that the ion storm might have something to do with this Empty Man thing, which encourages us to view the episode's biggest threat as something vaguely external to the Hephaestus, something coming from the vast, impersonal void of space.

After this groundwork, however, all we get is essentially one long build-up and release of tension. We've already seen Wolf 359 trying for a horror episode - hello, Super Energy Saver Mode - so we already know this is something the show can do. And unsurprisingly, it does it pretty well here too, only using the "aaaargh, there's something weird out there" monster film model instead of the "aaargh, there's something weird in here" ghost story model. It's a simple idea, and it plays out pretty much like you'd expect, right until the end of the episode.

The messages the Hephaestus receive, I have to say, are amazing in their sheer weirdness, and I have a real affection for the moment where Eiffel shoots down the idea that they're somehow mistakes. He's 100% right that a real error would just be random letters or numbers, and pointing it out feels like a nice genre-savvy touch. Plus, after several episodes of Eiffel walking straight into horror movie clichés, it's nice to see some common sense from him.

Unfortunately, knowing that they're deliberate only makes the messages more mysterious, since they give the crew literally nothing to go off. The messages are clearly warnings, but beyond that, it's very hard to figure out what, if anything, the crew are supposed to do off the back of them. The messages put pressure on the crew by counting down ominously. But apart from that, it's essentially meaningless input. There are no instructions for the crew, no useful bits of information. There are just some very confusing words on a printout.

And, given the revelation that it was all a psychological experiment, might this not be the point? Perhaps Command want to know how humans react to their own powerlessness in the face of the totally incomprehensible, the terrifying Unknown. In fact, given that Command have a real interest in human communication with aliens - the ultimate terrifying Unknown - this would actually make sense. Heck, it even makes sense for them to specifically be doing this onboard the Hephaestus - theirs is the ship that Command expect to make contact with real life aliens, any day now. We could maybe see this experiment as a sort of psychological inoculation, preparing the crew for moment they finally get a message from the Dear Listeners.

Either way, if it's psychological reactions Command want to observe, we get them here by the bucketful. Eiffel, for example, alternates between freaking out and trying to convince himself that it's stopped. Hilbert, from what we can see, turns to technology, buckling down and running scans, while Minkowski is the one comparing the messages, trying to pull out patterns. It's an admirable impulse, but I suspect it's exactly what Command are playing off here. As humans, we love to find patterns. It gives us a sense of control. But faced with something that is incomprehensible, the sense of control slips away. And so, as level-headed as Minkowski seems, she freaks out in the end just like the others.

It's also worth mentioning that this is the point where the episode pulls out all the stops to freak us out, too. Seriously, from the use of tense music and creepy sound effects, to the absence of Hera's reassuring presence during large parts of the episode, to Eiffel whispering the final message, all of this is so spooky. I mean, things build to a peak, the power cuts out, everybody's losing their mind, and then-

Oh. It was all a psychological experiment. Ugh, Command. Why are you like this?

It's a deliberately dissatisfying, anticlimactic ending. We want to heave a sigh of relief that the Empty Man isn't real, that the crew survived. But any positive feelings linked to the release of tension are drowned out in righteous indignation and - for us, if not for the crew - a feeling that we've been robbed of the exciting horror story we were expecting. We, along with the crew, have had the rug pulled out from under us, and while it's something the show's done before - remember, uh, last episode, within which Box 953 never got explained or followed up on? - it's the first time it's felt cruel. Box 953 was an accident, accidents happen. But this? This is just mean-spirited, so we end the episode firmly aligned with Minkowski and Eiffel in their feelings of anger and betrayal.

The only positive? I do feel like this shared, terrifying experience brings the crew closer together, as evidenced by their plan to write a sternly worded letter and send it to Command tomorrow. I'm not sure how effective it will be. But the thought's nice. Plus it might give them a sense of control back, and who am I to argue with that?

It's a bright moment at the end of an episode that otherwise leaves us frustrated and angry, putting us through the psychological wringer alongside the crew. As an exercise in building up tension, it's effective, and it doesn't completely lose that tension on a re-listen, even knowing the ending. I still found myself jumping at some of the noises in this, you know? And scary countdowns will always be scary!

That said, I do think that some of the impact this had the first time I listened to it was lost this time. The first time I listened to this, after all, I remember getting freaked out by the prospect of the Empty Man, but also invested in figuring out what it was. Knowing that the messages are meaningless, I was less invested in that this time round. And weirdly, I also remember finding the crew's freak-out and their subsequent rage at the anticlimactic nature of it all funnier the first time round - perhaps because it was so unexpected? In any case, that didn't carry over as much this time, either.

Nevertheless, I would say that this episode was still perfectly fine, and my ill-will towards Command has, if anything, intensified. But it was certainly a different experience on a re-listen, with different things standing out. Which, in the end, is what a re-listen is for, I guess. Some episodes improve dramatically. Some don't. For me, this one falls into the latter category, which might just be due to how strong a reaction I had to it the first time I heard it. And that's fine. Not every episode can - or should - be made for fans on a re-listen.

And hey, if you found it just as good, or better, the second time round? More power to you ^-^

Miscellaneous thoughts:

Minkowski saying that they might survive this with minimal damage *shakes head*. Has nobody on this station heard of tempting fate?

Is the pulse beacon relay sound effect actually a cash register sound? It's effective, either way - I love how clunky it sounds :)

This episode is also a really good opportunity to show us how the pulse beacon relay works. Which totally won't be relevant ever again. Nope. Not at all.

Un momento por favor, Doctor Hilberto." Why does this line amuse me so much?

"Decide what to do with the time that is given to you." Aaaaaaaaah bad bad bad!

Hilbert speaks Russian, Swedish, Norwegian, German and Afrikaans?! How did Afrikaans get in there? (headcanons 100% welcome here)

Aww, Minkowski thinks they should all get a good night's sleep. Sound advice in most situations tbh

#wolf 359 #wolf359 #w359 #wolf 359 relisten #the empty man cometh #nellied reviews #in which Command are the Actual Worst #how could dare they?!

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marvelmadam08 · 4 years

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Girls Night In

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 23: Chocolate and alcohol are a girl’s best friends, fuck diamonds.

Summary: What happens when the ladies of The Avengers get together and kick the boys out of the common room for the night? (Featuring Jennifer Fury from Uncle Fury)

Warnings: swearing, mature content (i.e. grown women conversation), mentions of sex, death, anger and grief.

A/N: I do not recognize the events of Endgame.

~~~~~~

“Out!” Everyone in the room commanded

“But-” Bucky starts to protest

“You can’t just-” Scott argued

“Begone!” Hope cut him off

“This is my building!” Tony argues, Pepper cleared her throat “Our building, but you can’t just kick us all out.”

The guys started talking over each other, agreeing with Tony.

“Yeah, we can. The first rule of girls’ night is: no guys allowed.” Natasha threw an arm around your shoulder “Right (Y/N)?”

“Right.” you smirked

The elevator dings, drawing everyone’s attention. Gamora, Nebula, and Shuri strut into the room, Nebula thanking Shuri for her repairs and the upgrades. Behind them a slim black cat zoomed through the room before its mystifying green eyes land on you. It hopped in your lap, purring.

“The cat gets an invite?” Tony asked, offended

“Relax Metal Mouth, Sir is my emotional support cat.” you cooed and scooped the cat into your arms “Aren’t you, silly kitty.”

“But he’s a boy cat.”

Jennifer fell back onto the couch with a large bowl of pretzel sticks in one hand, and a margarita secured in her other.

"Face it boys, you aren't gonna win this fight." She smiled "And don't you have like ninety-nine more floors to run around on?"

"But this floor has everything on it." Scott pouts, eyeing the pool table in front of the fully stocked bar. Thor's drinking buddy, and newly appointed Queen of Asgard, Brunnhilde, was already on her sixth drink, and showing no signs of slowing down.

"Which is exactly why, we're taking over for the night." Carol said from Tony's designated armchair

Tony opened his mouth to speak again when he was cut off by the super solider formerly known as Nomad.

"Guys, I say we let the ladies have the space for the night. Like Jen said we can use a different floor." The look he gave to his best friend didn't go unnoticed "Besides I think I'm gonna turn in a bit early tonight."

The dark haired soldier locked eyes with Steve for a brief moment on his way to the elevator. You looked to Natasha, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Fine, I'll let you ladies have your fun tonight." Tony gave in "Besides it's no fun if we can't poke fun at Steve. Let's go gents, there's a bar on twenty-fifth with my name on it."

Accepting defeat, the guys filed into the elevator, Bucky volunteering to take the stairs.

Shuri, Mantis, and Jennifer took over the TV, surprisingly agreeing on RuPaul’s Drag Race. Brunnhilde (a.k.a Valkyrie), Carol, Gamora and Nebula had all started a drinking game, and honestly you didn’t think the bar would have anything left after they got through with it. Nat, Hope, and Pepper drifted over to the pool table, Okoyke standing not too far away, mainly for Shuri’s protection, but still involving herself in light conversation. You caught Wanda up on everything that happened in the last five years, Sir curled up on your lap.

“So do you think Steve will finally come clean to Bucky tonight?” You asked her

“Fifty bucks says he’ll chicken out- again.” Natasha called out from across the room “It’s Steve, even with the beard and that ‘Your daughter calls me Daddy’ attitude, he’s still the king of waiting too long.”

“But he was gonna tell him before the snap.” Wanda pointed out “Fifty says he will.”

“Please, if anything Barnes will make the first move.” Pepper chuckled “Hundred says he does.”

“Do I hear a betting poll happening?” Jennifer turned her attention away from the TV “If so I’m in. A hundred on Barnes making the first move. It’s always the quiet ones you have to keep any eye out for.”

“She makes a good point.” Wanda agreed “It’s the quiet ones that always surprise you.”

“Which is exactly why my next boyfriend will be a mime.” Jennifer declared

“A mime?” several voices asked

“Yup, bright side he won’t mansplain everything. Downside is he won’t be able to say those four little words I long to hear.”

“Aw, is it will ‘you marry me’?” Mantis chewed on a pretzel stick

“No, it’s ‘Can I cum, Mistress’?”

Pepper nearly spit out her drink laughing, Wanda was red in the face but still smiling behind her own drink.

Sir purred approvingly.

The later it got, and the more everyone drank, the funnier and raunchier the conversations got. Okoyke eventually escorted Shuri out and up to her own room, even though Shuri assured her that there were worse things on the internet. Everyone gathered back towards the couch, having one conversation with five sidebars.

“Is it just pineapple that makes it taste good or is it fruit in general?” Hope asked the others

“It’s pineapple, papayas, citrus fruits, surprisingly bananas.” You listed the foods, Sir mewled “Yeah, you like bananas, don’t you Sir.”

“Why did you name him Sir?” Wanda reached over to pet him and he flinched away

“I dunno, I just called him that one day and it stuck.”

“Peppermint also helps.” Hope added to the previous topic “Scott swears by it.”

“Really?” Pepper raised an eyebrow

“I’m confused, why would you want it to taste better?” Nebula’s nose scrunched

“For the same reason you wait for the yaro root to ripen.” Gamora explained “But it’s the juice you get from it instead.”

“I see. Is that why you told Quill to drink the yaro root shake?”

“I love yaro root.” Carol drizzled chocolate sauce onto a marshmallow before shoving it in her mouth “And chocolate!”

She received several cheers in agreement.

“I don’t care what anyone says, chocolate and alcohol are a girl’s best friend, fuck diamonds.” Jennifer drank the last of her fourth margarita “Nat, is there more?”

“We’re not gonna have a repeat of Halloween are we?” Nat brushed Jennifer’s hair back

“No, I’m still co...here...clog.... I can still talk.”

“Water it is.” Nat stood to go grab a few water bottles

“So, Pepper, I heard that Tony is finally retiring.” Wanda spoke up

“Yeah, well sort of, he’s still gonna be around the tower. Possibly help rebuild the compound, but as for fighting.” she shook her head “I know he’s gonna miss it though, especially the post-battle sex.”

“The what?” Mantis gasped softly

“Post-battle sex, it’s basically when you’re adrenaline is still high, or you get closer to death than normal.” Hope explained “You come home and celebrate that you aren’t permanently, severely injured or dead.”

“Oh, and is this a normal human custom?”

“No, I think we’re the only nut jobs that get close to dying on a regular basis.” Natasha forced Jennifer to drink her water

“I remember, I had some amazing post-fight sex with Loki.” You admitted, you half notice when Sir’s ears twitch.

“You and Loki?” Brunnhilde nearly gagged “What the hell would possess you to do that?”

“Emotions run high, thoughts get thrown out the window. And you jump in bed with the closest demigod.” you shrug “I just can’t believe he’s been gone for five years.”

Wanda wrapped a reassuring arm around your shoulders.

“You haven’t been with anybody in five years?” Gamora asked

“I didn’t say that. Don’t get me wrong, Loki was great in bed, but an actual relationship was never the plan. He was too...”

“Sneaky? Underhanded? Murderous?” Pepper listed

“And emotionally constipated, besides I actually met someone a few months ago.” you state proudly, Sir was now on his hind legs and pressing his paws to your face. “Stop that.”

You moved Sir to the floor, and he did not like that. He clawed at your legs, begging for your attention. “Ow, what has gotten into you?”

“You might to get him spayed.” Carol suggested, Sir hissed before he ran behind the couch “And you never told us that you met someone.”

“I didn’t take it seriously at first, he doesn’t even know I’m and Avenger, but now that everything is back to normal I might go for it.”

A green light emits from behind you. Mantis screams, several people scream actually. Natasha swore in Russian, and backed away from you. The vengeful voice that followed sent a chill down your spine.

“Over my dead body.” Loki seethed

“Loki? What the hell?” you jumped up from your seat “You’re alive?”

“You know what, I’ve fucking had it with cats!” Jennifer cried “It’s always something with them. Throwing up tesseracts, being aliens, changing into once dead demigods. I’m fucking over it.”

“But you died on the ship.” Brunnhilde stated

“Clearly I didn’t.” Loki looked to you “How could you say that stuff about me? What do you mean I’m not meant for a relationship?”

“You pretend to be dead for five years, and I’m the one in the wrong for calling you sneaky?” you jabbed an accusing finger at him “I can’t believe you were sitting here, listening to our private conversations and letting me go on about-”

“How fantastic I am in bed?” he smirked “I’m flattered, and no mortal will be able to replace me.”

“You jealous prick, I’m gonna kill you myself.”

“You’ve got help.” Natasha stood to her feet

The others followed and marched towards the retreating trickster.

“I’m sure we can come to some type of agreement here, ladies.”

“Get him.”

#marvel #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #Captain Marvel #Carol Danvers #pepper potts #shuri udaku #general okoye #Scarlet Witch #wanda maximoff #stucky #Loki Laufeyson #Avengers #hope van dyne #gamora #100 days of productivity #international women's day #quarantine

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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The Other World- Part 1

Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to say my customary few words before you read this fic. As most in the HM community know on here, there are many who have drawn or written out our characters for this extremely flawed game that we’ve come to love one way or the other. One of the best and most thought out is the one created by @hogwartsmysterystory better known as Ethren Whitecross. I think we can all agree how incredible his writing is and how it’s inspired many people, including myself. This is my own way of saying thank you and to pay homage to his MC.

The following story is split into two parts, since the whole story is too long to release all at once. It is my tribute to him and his writing and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Part 2 will be released tomorrow.

If anyone needs background on my MC, please visit my tumblr page and MC info. I realize not everyone will get the context right away.

Enjoy!

A ringing in David Grant’s ears echoed as though it were the loudest noise on the planet. It was also hardly the only commotion going on at the moment. Within the confines of the Ministry, the scene could be described as quite chaotic.

It’s to be expected. Especially given that You Know Who has been dead for less than forty eight hours.

Standing within the spacious halls of the atrium, the once precocious curse breaker of Hogwarts was a much different man from the days of chasing after his long lost brother. Gone was the easy going smirk, the baby faced features of a teenager ready to take on whatever the world had to throw at him. What remained was a tired, unshaved, long haired ex-Auror who had suffered the trials of war, intrigue and then some. The once warm hazel-blue eyes were dulled to a flint like cynicism unrivaled even by the hardiest of warriors.

With the exception of Harry Potter (the stories were certainly true about his exploits), the law enforcement of Magical Britain had suffered more than most. Some had kept up the charade of the blue robes by staying in the Ministry after Voldemort’s takeover, others were placed under the imperious curse (poor Dawlish), while others yet defected and joined the resistance. But to David, that mattered not. The end of the battle of Hogwarts only brought a simple question to his mind.

Where was his wife?

Memories of the battle against her parents flashed in his mind once more- the sickening crunch of Matthias Snyde’s neck breaking, the unhinged screams of his wife, Lyra, who ordered her daughter to kill him. The battle for the soul of Merula Snyde. It had taken every once of his willpower to break through to her and he was certain she had been placed under the imperius curse herself. No one could control his wife, not unless they were prepared to do so by using the Dark Arts. However, that did not change the fact that she still carried the Dark Mark on her forearm and that in turn marked her as a Death Eater and a traitor.

Funny how fast things can change in the span of two days, he thought humorlessly.

There was no joy in his heart, no consolation to be had. He had stepped into the halls of this Merlin forsaken place for a single purpose and would not leave without knowing that Merula would not spend an eternity in Azkaban for crimes she was not culpable for. Consequences be damned, he would spend an eternity in there with her if he had to.

He needed to see someone with the authority to release her. Someone close to the newly appointed Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, his mentor and friend. Surely, he would listen.

Finally, amongst the crowd of hectic witches and wizards, he spotted a familiar face, Williamson, one of the few Aurors that had actually been clever enough to escape the Ministry and resist the dark regime before it happened. He was also a protégé of Kingsley and was probably in a position to speak to him given the circumstances, even if they were not the closest of blokes in the past.

He grabbed the shorter man by the shoulder as he hurried by.

“Williamson.”

“Grant?” the dirty blond haired Auror exclaimed. “Is that really you?”

“No, it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury. Of course, it’s me.”

Williamson shook his head.

“Still haven’t lost that infamous sarcasm, have you Grant? It used to be a lot funnier.”

David’s patience, already on thin ice, showed signs of cracking. He had not gone traveled thousands of miles and collected numerous bounties across Europe and the U.S. to bandy words with a lesser Auror.

“You know why I’m here, Williamson. I need to speak to Kingsley.”

The man gave a haughty sigh, though similar to everyone else, he too showed signs of immense fatigue and stress.

“The Minister,” he corrected. “Is not seeing anyone at the current moment as he has quite enough on his plate. Namely, the envoys from France and the United States.”

“He can make time for me. My wife is currently locked up in a cell somewhere in this fucking hellhole and I want assurances she’s not going to be charged with anything.”

Williamson tried to tug himself out of his grip, but David was much stronger and much more seasoned than his counterpart. The former recognized this and attempted to placate him as best he could.

“For God’s sake David, let me go,” he said, shaking his shoulder away. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to your wife. And I don’t think the Minister does either.”

That evasive response got his blood boiling again. Even with Britain and shambles, red tape and bureaucracy still impeded him.

“She’s innocent,” he growled. “She was under the imperius curse and nothing she did was voluntary.”

“We can’t prove that one way or the other. She’s got the mark and is the suspect of several crimes perpetuated against muggle born families.”

David could feel himself going numb, refusing to believe that Merula ever did anything so horrific under her own willpower. It wasn’t possible. Even as young children, when she was at her worst, he never truly believed she was capable of such atrocity.

“You’re wrong….”he managed to choke out. “You’re wrong and I can prove it. I just need to see Kingsley.”

This time it was Williamson’s turn to get serious as he received a hard stare.

“Frankly, you don’t have much to stand on either. Your own conduct in this war is under scrutiny as well. We’ve received word from the American, German, and Russian governments about various undertakings that occurred under your watch. Bounties, assassinations…”

“I did what I had to,” David replied with quiet fury. “You have no right to judge me for anything, Williamson. I’ve suffered through enough, I’ve…” he barely contained the lump in his throat as thoughts of the deceased permeated through his mind, people he’d never talk to or interact with again. People he loved.

“I just want my wife back. Please, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like the rest of those monsters.”

A flicker of sympathy appeared on his colleague’s face, but it was clear from his defeated posture there was nothing he could or was willing to do.

“I’m sorry, Grant. My hands are tied. The dust hasn’t even settled at Hogwarts nor on this new Ministry and you come barging in here demanding a Death Eater be released? Not only can I not guarantee such an action, but the question of your reinstatement among the Auror office remains to be seen as well. I’m sure the Minister will see you when he has sufficient time. Until then, there’s nothing I can do.”

And with that he walked off without another word, leaving David with no prospects or immediate solutions to his problem. He was completely and truly alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quiet. Then again, this place was always quiet.

In the aftermath of his plea falling on deaf ears, David did not heed Williamson or any other Ministry official. Given the chaos surrounding Britain, there was no one to stop him from going into the Department of Mysteries, namely the room of death.

He had only been in here once. And that was in the aftermath of a massive battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters over some ancient prophecy that You Know Who had desired for some reason or another (the circumstances surrounding his connection with Harry Potter were still dubious). That basically had been mop up duty and ensuring that Tonks was not too seriously hurt.

A massive lump formed in his throat at the thought of the pink haired witch, one of his best friends and partners in crime. Seeing her body- pale, cold, and fragile body on the stone floor of Hogwarts- was too much to bear. Despite Tulip’s attempts to console him, there was no consolation to be had.

David shut his eyes as silent tears rolled down.

Tonks, Fred, Talbott, Badeea, Ben….they’re all gone. They’re gone and I’ll never be able to see them again.

If there had been a stray rock or pebble, he would have flung it into the archway itself. But there was none to be had. The emptiness was symbolic of room itself, black and devoid of life. Personification of death, the lives robbed by its random cruelty. Because that’s what this was in his mind: simply cruel

Dropping to his knees, he ran his hands through his almost-shoulder length hair, the tears dripping off the stubble of his chin and onto the floor. By now the shock of the battle had well worn off and the only thing remained was the unadulterated, raw pain that marked its end. Hundreds were dead, including numerous friends and coworkers. And now his wife was essentially condemned to live out the rest of her days in prison, victim of a family legacy forced upon her.

It’s my fault, he thought to himself. I couldn’t protect her. I let her fucking manipulative, piece of shit parents get their hands on her and now our entire lives are bloody dead on arrival.

After all the fighting, after all of his efforts to find Merula and end the pestilential war that plagued the U.K. for almost twenty years, he had failed. Even with You Know Who dead, the ideology he perpetuated took a piece of himself and his life with him.

What was the point? What was there left to live for or hold onto? Merula wasn’t dead but she might as well have been- a fantasy of something that wasn’t coming back. Just like Tonks.

Like Ben….

Like Badeea…

Like Talbott….

There is no point, came the internal conclusion.

Suddenly, David felt another presence within the room. At first, he believed it to be some stuck up official who was about to order him to leave (in which case he would have been in for a rude awakening) but he found that the feeling was much different than sensing a person sneaking up behind you. No, this was…supernatural.

The presence was not one entity, rather it felt like multiple. Even more unsettling was that these entities seemed to speaking to him.

David Grant…..David Grant

It was barely more than a whisper, but it was extremely audible, as though the message was specifically designed for his ears only.

David Grant….David Grant

He looked around and realized that this voice, or voices, were coming from the mysterious archway itself. Even more mysterious, he felt drawn to it, despite his own fear.

“Who…who are you?” he said standing up walking towards the archway.

Come….Come….

“Come where? I don’t understand.”

Come see….come see….

At this point, David was so delirious, so filled with grief and emotion he didn’t even consider he might be going mad. Who were these spirits that desired to speak with him? What did they want to show him?

“Tonks?” he asked aloud, swallowing his throat. ��Ben? Talbott? Grandpa? Is that you?

He reached his hand toward the shadowy, white substance that moved about within the archway, all rationality forgotten. The knowledge that this door was the veil to a world beyond life, to death itself, did not register.

I can see my friends again. Maybe I can go to a place and be with Merula again and start over. No war, no pain. Just a life worth living, a life better than this…

As the tip of his index finger touched the veil a white, hot flash blinded him as a force more powerful than he had ever experienced tore into the very soul of his being. Time and space seemed to be ripping itself apart and back again as he was plunged into an unknown cosmic channel that seemed to go faster than the speed of light, yet slower than the oldest tortoise. Just as David thought he might go mad from the insanity around him, everything went black.

Then he knew no more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The scent of daisies and wildflowers wafted in the air, carried by a soft breeze. The air was warm and tender as it was on a summer day in Britain. The chirping of birds signified the season and the promise it offered to all creatures.

Hazel blue eyes fluttered open.

Thinking back to what just occurred, David sat up and saw that he was in a meadow on the edge of a forest of some sort. Tall grasses partially obscured his view, and the ground itself was so soft, he almost wished to remain there. However, curiosity got the better of him.

Standing up, the scene became more familiar. This was no ordinary meadow. It was a place he and someone very dear to him had once visited during a weekend at Hogwarts. A peaceful place that had been the spot of one of the greatest moments of his life.

This is Hogwarts. Or at least the edge of the grounds.

He saw the forest, the same one he once saw Fenrir Greyback emerge from in his first year, its tall trees just as imposing as ever, though less so in daylight. To his north, was the castle itself, its massive presence right where he left it…except it wasn’t. There were no visible signs of damage to the longstanding magical institution, at least none that he could see. It was as if the Giants who had wreaked havoc with their clubs on the towers, never existed in the first place.

Frowning, David turned his gaze downward. Though the day was cloudy, visibility was still strong. The hoops of the Quidditch pitch could be seen even from this distance. Sloping all the way across the hill was Hagrid’s hut, the fire damage to its roof also gone.

“What on earth?” he muttered to himself. This couldn’t be Hogwarts, he was just there. The state of the school was a mess and the physical damage immeasurable. How could it have been gone in the span of one day? Come to think of it, how long had he actually been out for after he touched that veil?

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, after all,” he said aloud. “But how in the hell did I get here?”

Whatever the case, he needed to find out what exactly was going on. If a significant amount of time had passed, Merlin only knew what happened since his absence.

But before he did, another marking caught his eye, one that he was unfamiliar with. To the untrained eye, it looked like a piece of dark granite stuck in the middle of the ground, but David knew better. Whatever it was, it warranted a closer look. As Kingsley always told him- “Check every aspect of your surroundings. If something is out of the ordinary, investigate with caution and care.” As David often joked, it was his own version of ‘constant vigilance’ employed by Mad-Eye Moody. Really, it wasn’t a surprise the smooth and capable man became Minister.

Deciding to test apparation this far from the school itself, he discovered that there were no wards and saved himself the walk.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that the gray semi-obelisk was actually a monument. A monument to those who had died in the fighting against Voldemort and his forces during that fateful night. He read the inscription.

Here lies those who willingly gave their lives in the face of the greatest evil our world has yet seen. May their sacrifice never be forgotten, and their memories preserved by the love of family and friends. This monument is a tribute to them and the day of May 2nd, 1998.

David could feel goosebumps rush down his body as he glanced at the names engraved on the stone. There was at a least a hundred, which thinking back to the official dead count was about the number killed in the battle. His heart sank as the casualties remained unchanged, ‘Nymphadora Tonks’, ‘Remus Lupin’, ‘Fred Weasley’, ‘Ben Copper’, and others were all listed. Curiously, however, there were others he didn’t even recognize while some were conspicuously absent. Badeea’s name was not among the dead nor was Talbott Winger. One of the names, a man by the name of ‘Ethren Whitecross’ had the stars and stripes flag next to it, signifying he was American.

“There were no Americans at that battle as far as I know,” David said to himself. “I spent the last two weeks of the war trying to bloody well convince them not to intervene, didn’t I?”

It suddenly occurred to him, that this monument had to have been created after the epic battle and sure enough when he checked the creation date, his guess proved to correct.

“Commemorated September 1st, 1998,” he said. “Paid for by the Board of Governors with the consent of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.”

David almost had to sit down again and suddenly felt very disoriented.

I’m…I’m in the future, he realized. But how is this possible? Has such a thing ever been confirmed?

Sure, there were stories, but they were usually old wives tales, legends that carried no bearing on reality. Though time turners technically had the ability to send someone back in time, they were all destroyed three years prior and besides, it could only send you to the maximum of thirty-six hours back in time not forward.

There was no question, he needed answers. And the sooner he received them the better. What year was it? Were people wondering where he went? What was the state of the Ministry? Was Kingsley still in charge? Were the Death Eaters given trial or executed? His stomach then dropped a few notches.

Merula

Above all else, the fate of his wife was the most important aspect of this investigation. If something had happened to her without him there to defend her honor…well he didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“She’d come and find me no matter where she was and tear my ear off,” he said with a dry chuckle.

Wasting no more time, David decided to visit the Ministry first. They would surely hold the records and documents about all trials, prisoners, and even the status of current, ex, or retired Aurors. People might be shocked or incredulous to see him barge in randomly, but it was worth a shot.

Making sure he maintained the necessary distance from the wards, David apparated away and in a flash was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unbeknownst to everyone aside from the Minister and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, there was a secret entrance to the Auror Office in a random pay phone booth in Manchester. As part of their training and oath, they were not allowed to use it except in cases of extreme emergency such as an attack or during a war. And though David’s situation didn’t qualify under either circumstance, he figured that going missing for God knows how long and not knowing what happened was enough of an excuse. Besides, if Tonks didn’t get caught for sneaking a whole case of beer during training, it was a safe bet no one would give him grief over this either.

Trying not to think about Tonks and making sure no muggles were looking, David stepped into the booth, awaiting to be transported to the main Auror office. It was quite a simple process. The old muggle machine had been charmed to recognize the magical signature of any law enforcement officer in its ranks. All you had to do was place your wand in the tray, say aloud your name and you’d be whisked away to the halls of the Aurors.

David did just that, as he could feel the magical sensors checking him over including multiple dark detectors.

“David John Grant,” he said, showing his badge.

However, instead of finding himself inside the Ministry in the next second, a wave of green slime appeared out of nowhere, drenching him from head to toe in a disgusting ooze.

“ACK! What the f-”

He quickly exited the booth to the curious glances of some muggle onlookers, who were no doubt attracted by the minor commotion. Giving them all a quick smile and a wave, David ducked behind one of the brick buildings the city was known for, cursing himself and the booth.

A few cleaning charms later, there was little trace of the substance on him (save for his vans) but the incident only brought more questions. Why had the secret entrance denied him? Technically speaking, he hadn’t officially resigned from the Aurors when he went into hiding and took up being a vigilante. His magical signature and badge should have been more than enough to avoid the pitfall of having that odious slime dropped all over him. It was merely a safeguard against dark wizards, but it also revealed something else.

Whatever the reason, the Ministry no longer recognized his credentials. That in itself was an ominous sign. If he wanted answers, he would have to go about it the old fashioned way.

Ensuring no one was peering into the alley, David apparated out of sight once more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One trip to London and a red phone booth later, David was finally inside the Ministry. Walking down the sleek, marble halls, it was almost exactly as he had remembered- the same statues, same fountain, same amounts of flying memos zooming in and out of their respective stations. The hustle and bustle was back and there was no sign of any damage from the war.

If the Ministry looks this good, it must be a fairly long time since the last battle.

Even more promising was the person sitting at the front entrance desk. David recognized those dark features and orange sideburns anywhere: Talbott Winger. He was wearing the blue robes most Aurors did while on duty and that was also a good sign. He, Tonks, and Talbott were the last ones accepted for mentorship in 1991 which meant he would know just what the hell was going on.

He was just about to greet his old friend, until he stopped dead in his tracks, recalling the monument and how Talbott’s name wasn’t on the list of the fallen. Seeing him alive and well at the Ministry all but confirmed this was the case. But this only brought more confusion to David’s already very bamboozled mind.

He died during the battle. I witnessed it with my own eyes. So if this is the future, how can he still be alive?

None of this was making any sense at all. Nevertheless, David knew that he had to try and do something to figure this mess out. Though naturally reserved, Talbott did not hesitate to help the rare few he called ‘friend’. Perhaps he could provide some assistance, whatever the reason for this madness.

“Hey, Talbott.”

The ebony skinned wizard looked up, his sharp eyes penetrating him like the hawk of his animagus form.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice betraying no hint of recognition.

David rolled his eyes playfully as he leaned on the desk.

“Come on, mate. Quite having me on. It’s Dave.”

An awkward silence followed as he sought to clarify.

“David Grant.”

Again, the name did not compute as Talbott merely gaze a polite look of bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Okay, now this was definitely getting weird. How did Talbott, even if he was somehow not dead, not even know who he was?

“Talbott, I’m your friend. David Grant. We went to Hogwarts together. I helped you find your lost necklace that your mother gave you.”

That statement lit up the dark, brown eyes of the animagus though it was not out of familiarity, rather the emotion seemed to be pain and shock.

“I don’t know how you know about that, but I can assure you, you were not the one to help me find my necklace nor did I attend Hogwarts with you. Now, is there something I can help you with?”

David was practically reeling. How was it possible that the man he had gone through so much with didn’t even so much as recognize him? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

Alright, at the very least, I can get in here, find my old office and pour through some old files. I’m sure whoever’s in charge now can clear this up.

“Yeah…uh…I’m an Auror,” he said showing his badge. “Listen, I’ve been gone awhile for reasons you wouldn’t believe anyway but I just need to get to my old office and talk to someone. Is that possible at least?”

“Give me your badge and wand.”

Short and to the point, no time for idle chit chat. That was Talbott alright, which made the situation all the more disconcerting.

Talbott took his items and examined them, muttering a few standard identification and security spells, before getting up from his chair.

“One moment, please.”

David raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. Though he didn’t know why a simple identification spell required going into a backroom, he was sure whatever issue popped up would be cleared soon enough. After what seemed like half an hour (it was only ten minutes, but it seemed longer), Talbott returned and handed his wand and badge back to him.

“I’m not quite sure what the issue is, sir. But there’s no record of any David Grant of having worked for the Auror Department, or any other Ministry job for that matter.”

The twenty five year old leaned forward slightly, as if not hearing him correctly.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your badge is authentic but there’s no employment history of anybody with your name here. When I applied more tests to your wand, it didn’t match any current witch or wizard in the entirety of the United Kingdom, nor anything ever sold from Ollivanders.”

This time the confusion was shared by both men, as David looked incredulously at his wand and badge as though he no longer knew what they were, while Talbott appeared to be a cross between dumbfounded and even a tad sympathetic.

“Nothing at all? No David, or John Grant or anyone with that name?”

“Nothing. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never seen anything like this before. I want to believe you. But as far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist.”

David let those words hit him a few times before even contemplating a course of action.

As far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist

You don’t exist…

You don’t exist….

“I-I don’t understand,” he finally spoke aloud.

“Neither do I,” Talbott affirmed. “But unfortunately, I can’t let you in the Ministry at this time. I’m sorry.”

David didn’t even bother to argue the point. It seemed as though every time he found a simple method to answer his questions, the end result would just add more to his ‘to-do’ list. The revelation that the British Ministry held no record of anyone with his name was the icing on the cake.

“Well…uh…thank you anyway.”

Turning around to leave, there was one more question burning on David’s mind, one that he was sure even this version of Talbott wouldn’t mind revealing.

“Would you at least mind telling me this? What day and year is it?”

Talbott gave him a questioning look but gave him a straight answer.

“May 4th, 1999,” he answered.

So a whole year has passed? That explains why the war damage has been fixed. But not everything else. Including my own status as living, breathing person.

Then he noticed something else. A small pin attached to the front of Talbott’s Auror robes. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was an American Flag, the second one he had seen today.

“I beg your pardon but why do you have a lapel of the United States flag?”

“Full of questions, aren’t we? It’s a commemoration.”

David didn’t understand but then again what else was new. He needed to ask for more.

“What does America have to do with the commemoration of the end of the war?”

There was no mistaking the obvious look of pain and sorrow on Talbott’s face this time. So distraught that look was, he shifted his gaze to the side.

“The citizens of the United Kingdom weren’t the only ones who gave up their lives in order to stop You Know Who.”

It was there that David ceased, prudently unwilling to press the matter further. Talbott wasn’t going to speak more on the subject anyway and to do so would have been inappropriate anyway.

“Thank you for your help, good day.”

David didn’t turn to witness Talbott’s reaction. He had seen enough. From being thrusted a year forward in time, to seeing an old friend alive, right down to his own seemingly non-existence, this whole scenario was becoming positively ridiculous. And if he couldn’t find information at the Ministry there was another source he could turn to.

It was a time for a trip to Diagon Alley.

#ethren whitecross #david grant #harry potter #hogwarts mystery #tribute #fanfiction #talbott winger #nymphadora tonks #battle of hogwarts #au #hphm #hphm fanfiction

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ducktracy · 4 years

Text

55. wake up the g*psy in me (1933)

release date: may 13th, 1933

series: merrie melodies

director: rudolf ising

starring: n/a

i’m really sorry to open this up with a slur in the title, hence my censorship of it. if there’s anything else i can do to make any edits to this, let me know. this short details romani villagers dancing and singing, their celebration cut short when the mad monk rice-puddin’ kidnaps one of the girls.

open to a joyful celebration in the streets of a russian village. a man is doing a kazatsky, among other dances. there’s a shot of a man conducting the orchestra, revealed to be a caricature of bandleader paul whiteman. there’s also a shot of a man playing a *daffy voice* balalaika with a herring—very creative and strange! back to the man, who dances straight towards the camera into the next scene.

a group of men are chugging their beer, singing “the song of the volga boatmen” in gargles. this song would also be sung by the gremlins in russian rhapsody. very catchy! elsewhere, a group of men are struggling to pull a rope to the beat of the music. a pan down reveals that they’re dragging a tiny little puppy who’s holding on the other end. great gag! size is always great for humor—very looney tunes.

a man plays a pan flute, tuning himself by twisting his ear a few times to get the right pitch. he and a few other singers sing the titular song (again, i’m really sorry to use this) “wake up the g*psy in me”. a great visual gag while they sing is how they walk back and forth—above, the tallest guy is the lead singer, but once they march the other way, he’s now the shortest, with the shortest man being the tallest. a dog bounds up on stage and barks a few bars, and the hats that they’re wearing turn out to be cats, who all hiss at the dog before morphing back into hats again. there are a lot of really great gags in this one nonstop!

a little romani girl comes out of her caravan and dances to the music with her tambourine. as we get another brief glimpse at the singers, the camera pans to a shifty man in a trench coat, sneaking about. it’s actually a very short man with a ton of bombs stacked on his head, the top bomb having eyes drawn on it to avoid further suspicion. because why not?

the title card clues us in that this very obvious caricature of rasputin is “RICE-PUDDIN’, ‘THE MAD MONK’”. great name beyond words. he’s playing a jigsaw puzzle and cheating, cutting the corners so it fits just right and jeering at his handiwork.

elsewhere, the man carrying the bombs sneaks into the palace. he realizes that he can’t be seen holding two bombs, so, logically, he fashions them into breasts and saunters past the guard, who hugs himself in delight. i have a feeling bob clampett was involved with that one.

back to rice-puffin’ and his conniving jigsaw game. he throws down another jigsaw piece that won’t fit in frustration and hisses.

lucky for him, a portrait of the czar (?) is hanging right in front of him. he cuts up the photograph, and it fits perfectly in place to form a jackass (“you’re a horse’s ass” underscoring in the background). well, he has personality!

finished with his game, rice-puffin’ snags a pair of binoculars and peers out into the streets outside, where the festivities rage on. he sneers “THE FOOLS!” as he listens to another verse of our eponymous song (with beautiful vocals, though hard to appreciate with a slur constantly thrown around). he lays eyes on the romani girl with the tambourine and rubs his hands together connivingly. again, we’re overdue for a kidnapping, a harman-ising staple! he orders a guard to snag her for him, grabbing a cigar from the guard’s uniform and lighting it (with the aid of a mouse striking a match after popping out from the lighter). he chuffs on his cigar, and sure enough the girl is dragged inside by force.

rice-puddin’s motives are clear once he opens a trap door, sending his guard into who knows where. he makes advances on the girl, who pooh-poohs him (i think she should deck him in the face for starters). he chases after her, and there’s this weirdly cool shot of him lumbering around and laughing maniacally. good run cycle with plenty of warped personality! the girl shrieks for help by sticking her head out a window, but rice-puddin’ silences her.

thankfully, the whole town comes to her aid, armed with axes and torches. rice-puffin’ takes note, and turns to the audience. he cries in a “regular” american accent “holy mackerel—i’m a loser!” whoever voiced that line deserves an award of some sort. the timing is impeccable and the tone sounds so hushed LOL.

he rushes out of the palace, jumping onto a mule and riding off. remember the guy with the bomb from earlier? he places a bomb in rice-puddin’s pants. rice-puddin’ pulls the tail of the mule, turning it into a helicopter as he rides off unharmed... or so he thinks. the bomb explodes and as the clouds settle, we iris out as he has gone from a caricature of rasputin to ghandi (??????).

title aside, this was actually a very entertaining cartoon. the gags were on point and the music was fun and lively. usually the merrie melodies have some sort of sentimentality to it, but this one didn’t—in fact, it didn’t take itself seriously at all, which makes it funnier and boosts its rating. the use of the g-slur in the title and song is awkward and doesn’t age well, but thankfully it’s one of those scenarios where the cartoon is still enjoyable elsewhere, yet still keeping that in mind. high energy and great gags, worth a watch!

link!

#lt #wake up the g*psy in me #reviews #long post #g slur #g slur tw #racism tw

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myserendipities · 5 years

Quote

Our research showed that dark content doesn’t fit into neat buckets in the ways that more mainstream content does. It sits in spectrums. The scary thing is how quickly you can go from one end of the spectrum to another. Recently several researchers have noticed that YouTube tends to push more extreme versions of the kinds of content you like to watch. Check out a few vegetarian recipes, you get vegan videos, then animal rights stuff. Get some video coaching on your running style and soon your sidebar fills up with “Run your first ultramarathon.” Watch some center-right commentators, and within a couple of videos you’re in the world of QAnon. Watch some center-left stuff, and YouTube starts throwing up Illuminati conspiracies. This isn’t an attempt by Google to radicalize us, it’s the result of the biggest experiment ever conducted into what engages us. The answer is clear: something more extreme than the thing we last watched. Hollywood gets it. Marvel Studios makes its sequels bigger, louder, and funnier than the originals. When it applies to online content, it means that we’re being pushed from funny, useful, beautiful, and inspiring stuff into something that appeals to us on a much deeper, and potentially more damaging, level. What makes us happy? For almost all the people we studied, the answer was: other people’s unhappiness. Any psychologist will tell you that this isn’t surprising. Kids as young as four will see a stranger’s suffering as a kind of cosmic retribution. We unconsciously conclude that bad things happen to people for a reason. Research also shows that same sense of natural justice tends to make people think badly of AIDS and rape victims while seeing rich people in a good light. When the Rohingya people were being massacred in Myanmar, local Facebook posts represented them as Bangladeshi criminals who had seized land from its ‘true owners’ (in truth, most had lived in Myanmar for generations). Now they were getting what they deserved. Although untrue, it fitted easily into the kinds of stories that humans want to believe: bad things happen to bad people. We’re hardwired for cosmic justice; it’s what makes Hamlet so powerful. It’s also what makes Twitter pile-ons, Russian dashcam footage, and The Darwin Awards so compelling. There used to be a word for people who played on our darkest impulses to influence us. They were called demagogues, and if politics teaches us one thing, it’s that nothing good happens to countries that listen to them. Now we have a different word for those kind of people. We call them Behavioral Economists. Much of what Behavioral Economics does seems benign: nudging people into saving for retirement or taking the stairs rather than an elevator. But behavioral economics has gone far further than that. It’s made Facebook and Twitter so addictive that millions of people look at their smartphones in the morning before talking to their partner. Psychologist Philip Newall has coined the term “dark nudges” to describe the fiendish ways that gambling machines make themselves addictive: deliberate near misses, losses disguised as wins and illusory patterns all short-circuit psychological traits we’ve evolved for good reasons. Faced with half a million registered addicts, the U.K. government has moved to restrict the amounts you can gamble on any machine. Our relationships are also being battered by dark nudges. Love is, in economic terms, inefficient. Saint Augustine said that we love when we value somebody beyond their actual worth. Technology is on hand to correct this inefficiency. No matter how great the person across the table in the restaurant may seem, according to Tinder there’s five other cuter, funnier, cleverer, better dressed people within a twenty-minute walk who are also into you. And when you go to the bathroom, your date will discover the same thing as they check their phone discretely under the table. Behavioral Economics is a great way to sell stuff, get elected and make experiences ‘sticky’. In the same way, cigarettes are a great business model: so addictive that you’ll still buy them when you’re homeless and hungry. It doesn’t mean that either of these things are good for society. It took decades for us to realize how harmful and addictive tobacco, transfats and sugar were. People who rejected them were considered “fitness fanatics” and were treated the way we think about nudists today – yeah, maybe you’re healthier but… ew. In time, the mainstream caught up with the fanatics, and today most people who aren’t Donald Trump accept that it’s a good idea to resist donuts, pizza, burgers and other round, bad food. Legislation is pushing back against cigarettes, fizzy beverages and other substances that short-circuit our powerful evolutionary urges to consume fatty, salty and sweet things. Recently, the U.S. Senate was presented with a bill that could ban certain dark nudges, but there’s a long way to go before it becomes law. So what can we do in the meantime? Sigmund Freud first described the dark unconscious that is being so manipulated today. He may have also provided us with an escape route. In his last book, Civilization and its Discontents, he said that in order to live in a complex modern society we have to put aside a lot of our deepest instincts: violent impulses, hatred of out-groups, random sexual urges. At our best, said Freud, we engage each other in enlightened ways: appealing to our sense of fun, of wonder, of curiosity and our desire to learn. As Freud wrote: “It is impossible to overlook the extent to which civilization is built up upon a renunciation of instinct.” When ideologies appeal to our most primal instincts, they often succeed but at terrible cost. People aren’t going to stop consuming dark content. All the evidence says that we can’t. Some creators will never stop producing it, because it’s all they do: pornographers gonna porn, Fox News gonna Fox. But many creators can. Brands hire behavioral economists to nudge us into making unwise decisions (You’ve been outbid! Don’t lose out!). Politicians employ companies like Cambridge Analytica to play to prejudice and fears. The onus is on them to stop. Brands, politics, and society all prosper when we leave aside the darker kinds of persuasion and instead engage people by being funny, useful, beautiful, and inspiring. Let’s put the other stuff back in the box.

https://www.fastcompany.com/90343372/we-studied-what-10000-people-love-online-the-results-would-make-freud-blush

#media #internet #psychology

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np-c · 6 years

Text

Fanon as canon

(sry for bad writing, that’s gonna be some gramatic wrong shit but i NEED to say this -aahhh this is hard, sorry)

That’s not a message to antis (fuck them) but massage to pro-shippers. In our fandom we have some weird shit that we all agreed is canon? Its all because bakudeku started as enemies..? rivals? definetly not friends? Because Bakugo told Deku to go to kill himself.

That was a first episode; we didn’t know a shit except we need to protect Izuku at all costs bc he’s so adorable and just need protection. But then there is started some weird west shit where people completly ignoring what’s going on on the screen cuz no one noticed Izuku’s reaction on these words.

Well, you see, I came in fandom after wonderful villain!deku au’s and now i think its the dumbest thing fandom ever made so i was low-key shipping bakudeku. And one of the reasons why i started to watch this show was ‘cuz I wanted to see how really abusive this ship is. I wanted a proof. For my favorite kind fo AU and for my probably OTP.

...

But then I finally saw that scene, goddamn I laughed so fucking hard OMG. Pls rewatch it, PLEASE REWATCH IT WITH YOUR OPENED EYES.

Was it just me or Izuku’s first reaction was a desire to say “well fuck you too”???

Was he upset? Obviously, his notebook was thrown into window. But what else? He was angry. He wasn’t scared before Katsuki glared at him. He wasn’t crying (his usual reaction at everything). After that, he just said that Katchan was stupid to say that.

That was the moment when villain!deku died to me. But so did a big part of bakudeku fandom cuz they are so good people who can’t do anything wrong so when they do, they need to apologise и этот момент во всех фанфиках написан как по методичке And so need Bakugo BECAUSE HE BULLIED MIDORIYA FOR TEN YEARS or something like that apparently (funny thing but i figured that russian just doesn’t have an equal translation; well we have a lot of childish nouns and a lot of verbs so we can translate ‘he was bullied’ but we can’t translate ‘that guy is bully’ without it sounded stupid and childish THE FUNNIER THING: the closiest that i heard used is ‘provoker’ :D i just found that very hillarious dontmindme)

Well, the question is: was Midoriya really get bullied? I saw enough animes to think it was not the case. Or it was nothing really serious and just words. And look me in the eyes and tell me that this guy gave fuck about what people told him. Especially in middle school. He was one with his dreams against the world, even against his own mother (and i need to write another post why i hate Inko Midoriya and probably why I’ll never be accepted in your world of saints). He was quirkless and people laughed at his dreams. His mother didn’t believe in him. But Katsuki? He just wanted get rid of him.

Big bad Katsuki, right? Because you never ever in your lives met people who you thought was weird, who made you feel weird. That could be your friends sometimes or your friend’s friend or just that one classmate - you have never been in such a situation, right? I’m not saying his actions are fine - nah, he was an asshole kid, but i can understand why. Actually, if you read manga, it was said literally: Katsuki doesn’t see a problem in a bit of violence. He was raised that way, he’s angry kid, with not so family-friendly quirk (probably). But he knows when to step back, he follows rules, he’s a good student and he wouldn’t let his ‘friends’ smoke nearby bc he doesn’t want to get into trouble. His dreams (plans) are too big, he works so hard for them to happen. He might be an asshole but he’s responsible asshole за то и любим

So, some stupid kid who thinks he’s better then Katsuki (btw go rewatch their first fight but without this ‘we need to protect Deku’ bullshit in your mind and listen to their dialog - it’s a gold of comedy misunderstandings honestly) that kid thinks that he’s, being a loser (he WAS loser, smart ofc but still yeah it’s not good call him that but ffs), quirkless, can achive something for what Katsuki worked so hard. Most of you would’ve hate this kid too, don’t lie to yourselves.

But would he risk his dreams to hurt him?

Yeah, there’re moments from times when they were what? four? that frame where ‘he became bad after he got his quirk’? i honestly think it was a plothole but just imho :D Asshole violent little brat but i really would’ve love to know the whole story bc wtf. It’s probably my problem after being here too long so i automatically looking for bad things and it’s not like kids never fight. I don’t believe it was something drastically and IT IS the most drastic thing that i found in their history.

And after all... intresting point: Deku still thinks that Katsuki is amazing (even when he’s an asshole) and don’t you fucking dare call him a masochist ‘cuz he’s not. He would fight him.

He wanted to fight him when Katchan said that stupid thing (that you all so love to overthink). He fought him when they were little. He fought him in villain vs heroes lesson without that much of a second thought. Yeah, he’s nervous around him at first bc Katsuki is loud and literally explosive and yeah, from that all you can think he’s scared of him, but is he? Izuku is nervous kid in general. He always was just a nobody for his classmates and it’s not like he was naturally talanted at anything (quite opposite) and his only parental figure is Inko (she’s wonderful woman, okay? but not the greatest mother and also nervous wreck). It was his first days in UA, Class 1-A was just introduced, we didn’t know anybody, and it’s some new test already - ofc he would be nervious.

So, anyway, if Katsuki didn’t abuse him physically, he obviously did that emotionally bc... we need a scape goat and we already hate Bakugo and he told Izuku to kill himself so that’s enough. Or bc he’s the only guy from Izuku’s chilhood who’s name we know, so we can blame him - he’s important to story, right? probably bc every story need an almost-villain so we can hate him altogether. Or maybe bc it was not Bakugo, but a whole atmosphere: his classmates, teachers, his ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ mother. First of all, probably genes.

Second of all, ask yourself a question: can one stupid Izuku’s words Bakugo Katsuki break Midoriya Izuku? To the point where we call that’s a trauma, where Katsuki’s usual harsh vocabulary becomes a crime, where we write suicidal fanfics and they don’t sound stupid?

Except they does because Izuku isn’t suicidal, not even fucking close. He doesn’t have a trauma. He is just a nervous kid and - actually - he isn’t fucking weak (strong in spirit or smth like that). Funny thing: when i first watch their exam right before summer camp arc, when they started talking that great speak about impassable wall, I actually thought that can be said about Izuku :D He’s not easy to break and he easily ignores people’s opinions when he needs. He’s self-destractive, not suicidal. Different things, guys. I’m pretty sure even if he did thought about that ‘way out’, he never made this an option. Yeah, you actually can seriosly consider this as your ‘way out’ and then think that nope, not for you.

So, after all this FUCKING TEXT WALL OMYGOD, let’s get back to the point that I didn’t even stated in first place.

Why Katsuki need to apologise?

I’m sure at some point Katsuki hated Deku (bc Deku looked down at him whatever it was or wasn’t thruth - for Katsuki it was) and at some point Deku couldn’t leave him alone. He called him names (name ‘Deku’ was made before Deku happened to be quirkless, some people forget about that), but so did everyone and don’t make Katsuki the most evil one - unlike most, he had reasons and he’s an angry kid and Izuku was a bad guy in Katsuki’s story who wanted to destroy him while hiding behind his innocence smile - what a fucking story with a plot-twist it could’ve been, if it was Katsuki’s POV-

Katsuki didn’t ruin Izuku’s life, not even close. You can say, he ruined his childhood, but I would risk to say that was mutual (Greetings, Inferiority Complex!). Really, can I start to say that Izuku need to apologise to Katsuki bc he didn’t even try to understant his friend?

So, Bakugo is a bully bc we never saw an angry teenager and bc Izuku is innocent and it’s just them two in the world and Izuku is the only one who was hurt no, really, no jokes here, I think Katsuki is a lot more emotionally damaged then Izuku ever was and because we have a really dumb headcanons that we forgot were just our thought ебаное слово, вечно забываю как пишется and interpretations.

So we agreed that Katsuki beat Izuku bc he was quirkless and helpless (seems like EXACTLY THE REASON WHY HE WOULD DO THIS R I G H T) and called him names (definitely not bc he felt threatened by someone who’s supposed to be just a nobody).

...

Okay, that sounds bad so I rephrase it:

Why Katsuki should apologise to someone who he saw as a threat when he for so much reasons shouldn’t?

Not so simple anymore, hah?

Can sound dumb but ambivalent feelings is a thing. And that’s the only reason I can find to explain why Katsuki was the only one of the whole class who didn’t laughed when they’ve been told Deku’s trying get into UA. Because shitty nerd had a chance? Because shitty nerd thought that he stand the same ground as Bakugo and it wasn’t funny anymore? Because stop looking down at me?

Bakugo Katsuki is the best fucking character I’ve ever met. He’s so real. So complex.

And when you picture him as a bully or just a bad guy or abusive, you’re killing him as a character. I don’t like saying that 16y.o. are just kids, but he is AND he’s trying his best. He doesn’t understand all things and he has never met a proper rivals before and he’s definitely not a social person (and nope, you can’t change a character so deal with it and learn to see through this). And let him learn.

He may or may not look back one day and see what a little piece of shit he was, but I don’t think he would say something. He’s a man of action after all.

And I definitely think that would be unnecessary and would look forced bc Izuku doesn’t need this. Izuku isn’t a victim, and when you picture him as one, you’re killing him as a character.

(it should’ve been ended right after ‘OMG TEXT WALL’ but here we fucking are; does someone read this?

i really hope this shit is readable; if not, it’s not about my shitty english that much, but my writing, ehh)

You have headcanons - good. You figured them in a way to fill a gap in the story - great. But for the love of characters, don’t fucking pretend them to be a canon.

But really, is it just me or does first chapter look weird? It’s fctually just funny how so many people seems stuck in FIRST CHAPTER when we are close to second hundred. I’m not saying ‘heeeey character development’. I’m asking: is first chapter a really good reason to make assumptions?

#bakudeku #bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #katsuki bakugou #my shitty inglish #SEVEN HOURS OF MY LIFE TO THIS SHIT wooooow #its not even readable is it #i'm d o n e #just my disorganised thoughts tho

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kevintheradioguy · 6 years

Text

The thing that happened on one of the afterparties

This story, as I write it, kind of has the r/thathappened feel, but it's absolutely legit. I have a fun life, it seems. I am changing all the names for the sake of anonymity, because, although the main character of the story was weird and maybe a bit in the wrong here, she did not do it out of spite, and just didn't realise certain things about how the world works. So I cannot blame her, and only can hope she'll grow up a little bit.

Thing number one I want to get out of the way. About six years ago I have moved to Russia, to live with my fiancé. We were in a long-distance relationship for a very long time, travelling to see each other, before I found a job there and moved; but what I am trying to say is that she has only the basic level of English, therefore, most of the story that follows is me translating her words, since I didn't know the entire thing, as she spoke the most with this white knight girl. This is also in a need of noting, since everything going on was in Russian, so when I say that someone doesn't know English to say something, keep in mind that the original line that I translated was not in English to begin with.

Thing number two is also the start of the story. Don't kinkshame. Yes, we are in open relationships, and no, I don't want to hear anything about it. We're not children that 'experiment', we've been together for a long time, and practically married at this point, and we feel very comfortable not putting the equal sign between love and sex. If anyone doesn't get it - rest assured, I as well cannot get why would you be so jealous about a person you care for having fun, so let's leave it at that: we both don't get each other, so let's just enjoy the story. Another thing to point is that she's bisexual, which is obvious from the story, but I have to point out as well.

So, we all have the image of rock concert afterparties going all kinky. Stars picking up some girls and boys and it all turning in huge orgies. And that is... half-true. Me and my girl, - we'll be calling her Jay here, - have the same tastes in music, art, architecture, and many more, therefore so we always go to the same concerts, museums, and seminars. We have met and befriended a German Rock band few years back, and have been in tight contact ever since, so we are automatically invited to all the afterparties they have, specifically with one of the members we have the most contact is, who girls usually find the cutest of all, so he gets some huge female attention. Let's call this guy A, because that is what his name starts with and I have no active imagination! Now, we both knew what the afterparty would be about, and since I wasn't in the mood for any of that, and Jay doesn't want to go alone, we tried to lie my way out by saying we have our salaries delayed, and thus - no money for the tickets, but then the band sends us invitations - something that is absolutely not nice to ignore, so we're in a need to go.

So, the concert went pretty cheerful. As usual, some people waited for the band in the corridor, some took photos, me, Jay and A chatted a bit, and then us and two other girls decided to heat to the hotel, because what the F else would we do, if the rest of the band wasn't in for the afterparty? One of the girls was absolutely gorgeous, and Jay and her (I wasn't in the mood, so kind of just followed around, occasionally serving as an interpreter when they could not convey a certain message to A) managed to kind of befriend each other from the very first minute. We'll call her Hel. The other girl was a bit weird, but at that time it was just a theory A GAME THEO-- ahem! - she is always very quiet, but while I am a friendly quiet more of a tired type, she was all mysteriously quiet, and A, if we had to walk somewhere, had to drag her along by her hand, because she wouldn't go without him holding her like that. I asked if she was okay, thinking that maybe she's scared, and didn't really want to be in this mess we're about to go for, and I have to lead her away and call a taxi, and she just nodded - she was okay. Well, all-right, I thought, everybody's got their quirks.

The organisers, as usual, didn't realise that A's "I'll be with friends tonight" meant not one person, but four, so there weren't enough taxis called, and so we had to stand outside, in the cold, in front of a closed club, for twenty minutes, while the wind howled mercilessly. When you come to a rock concert at seven, and go out of the doors at half past midnight, you don't expect such a huge leap down in temperatures. We were very lucky that at this point the weird girl didn't show all her weirdness, and we managed to successfully put her in the car with other musicians, and take the next taxi for ourselves (Jay, Hel, me, and A), so at least the trip there was fun.

So, we get into a hotel, and went for registration. Had to stand there for a very-very long time, because they had this odd system where you could only bring no more than two friends into one number, so A had to rent another one so we're all allowed in. As the registration is going, we just stand there and chat, making jokes and giggling at the office. I mostly speak to A< as we have no language barrier between us, but the juiciest part is going on with the girls. As Jay later told me, Hel was telling stories about how last time Halestorm came over, and she managed to seduce a lead singer, and is still absolutely in awe with her. And after that this weird girl comes closer to Jay, and asks what do people usually do in hotel numbers in these situations? Well, Jay, being kind of a naïve girl herself, genuinely thinks the girl is joking, because how can you not know what happens in a hotel number, when a famous musician invites a guy and three girls in? You could've dismissed the most unbelievable options way before you drove here. So she replies: "Sex, and alcohol, and rock-n-roll, of course!" And that girl replies something like "Wow-wow-wow, I am already scared, I didn't expect this, tee-hee-hee!" while her eyes are as huge as a doe's, as if she never heard any of these words before, and she's all giggles. And you know, Jay still thinks that's a joke. That she has this sense of humor. A weird one, but we don't judge.

The girl called herself Ren, which kind of made everyone cringe. A weird fleeting thought ran through my mind about being fifteen, being dark and gloomy, slicing your wrists on the cemeteries right after drinking Red Bull secretly mixed with beer while sitting in the shadow of your own house so mum won't see. And it confirmed, seeing how she was talking about herself under the "I'm not like the others" sauce, peppered with "I am special" curry. Which was especially funny after we realised that her real name was not Ren, but Nancy. And this Nancy stands in front of us, and tells to the girls how evil and badass she is when she drinks, to the point of crawling up the lantern poles, not remembering where she lives, wanting to kill everyone, and eating concrete. The smell of teenage idiocy became stronger...

Meanwhile, I notice how A starts to eye her passport given to reception lady for registration. Although he doesn't understand a single shit she's saying, he kind of feels this teenish aroma in the air, and gently asks where in the name of Rod Stewart can he see a birth date in her passport? After finding it, he relaxes a little, finding out she's not under age, and after about forty minutes of trying to hurry up the sleepy receptionist lady, we go upstairs.

It is half past one in the night, and we suddenly realise we're out of any alcohol. Even beer. Not a single drop besides things we took from the club, and the laws stands that you cannot buy alcohol in shops after 11pm and before 8am. But we have to keep the action going, relax, start having fun, after all. So, we decide we'll play spin the bottle for a wish. Small, cute things, like parodying strip-tease or barking like a dog. During this, Hel says she not only likes boys, but girls too, and I see Jay's eyes sparkle to that, and her forgetting about Nancy.

So, we play. It's funny, it's jolly, and fun. We make up cute stupid things to do. A has to lick the entire bottle, because he wasn't lucky with the wish. We tell stories about the previous afterparties which always went funnier than expected. And Nancy, as she listens, makes huge, surprised eyes, when she realises her gorgeous bass player A unexpectedly had sex with women! And not even one at a time! And not even once before! For some reason, this was news to her after a group of two men and three women basically barged into the number. "What a twist!", quoting Robot Chicken. Twist indeed, seeing how fast she tried to get to making out with him.

So she starts at Jay, and asks "But what if he's contagious!", which makes me facepalm so hard, I actually hurt my own eye with a slap. And Jay replies that that' of course, is possible, but highly unlikely, since he always, always uses condoms - a thing that would put people to an ease after hearing, but it absolutely terrifies Nancy! So, still thinking Nancy just has this sense of humour, Jay jokes, asking "Why, what did you suspect musicians do with beautiful women in their hotel rooms?" to which she replies "But he's a whore! Tell him! Tell him he's a whore!" She cannot say this on her own, because she doesn't even know English, - let alone German, - prepositions. And that's not even a joke, she knows absolutely nothing in English, even though she's almost 20, she cannot even say "hello". But she really, really wants to call A a whore. We, of course, did not call him that, although he himself managed to learn how to pronounce the word very quickly due to her insistence.

After about fifth such request, we all start suspect this is not her sense of humour. Nancy seems to be getting upset, but we cannot in the life of ours determine what is she upset about. But does she leave? Of course she doesn't.

After about another half an hour of the spin-the-bottle game, A's bottle lands on one of the girls (I forget which one), and he wishes for her to kiss him. So, Nancy/Ren stands up, all huffing and puffing, and declares she refuses to play such games, and instead she is going to sit there, on the bed, and look miserable, turning her back to us demonstratively. We kind of poked her a little about it, and shrugged it off, because everyone else had fun, and we wanted to keep it going. And after a while, everyone kind of forgot she was even there.

Time passes, and Jay suddenly starts to poke Hel, A, and me, making big, expressive eyes, and gently nodding to the bed. We remember there were five of us in the room. We realise there is sniffling coming from the bed. We realise that if we won't act now, Nancy will start wailing. So everyone stops, and approaches her, as starts asking what was wrong and why Nancy is crying. Perhaps she wants to join the game, and if not, maybe she wants to go home? We ask softly, and gently, not to damage this delicate young soul she has. Hel asks if she should call a taxi. A through me explains that it's not a problem to check out, and, in fact, there are no problems at all to begin with! Everything for you, my child! I, meanwhile, think that she might have gotten the impression that she is forced to get in on with two males and two females (even though I made it abundantly clear I am not in for anything and would probably sit in the corner and make witty remarks), so try to explain that no one forces her to do anything - this isn't how this works! Guys! This is not how it works! No one forces anyone to do anything during an orgy! It's all clear consent!

And then she turns, looking like a dying swan, hit right in the heart by an arrow, and starts to show off. She wants to leave. But she does not. She doesn't want a cab, but she isn't going to stay here. She is not having fun, but she doesn't want to. Instead, she decides she wants to talk to A instead. Alone. Without knowing English. Or German. And she looks like a loyal puppy, insulted to her core.

So for the next forty minutes Nancy, using their phone and google translate, was messaging A! Without telling anyone anything. We managed to take turns in taking a shower, and change clothes, and chat... now, it sounds fair, but can you imagine yourself in such a situation, stopping the action midway to message with a person right next to you, while everyone else are left to sit there and wait? For forty to sixty minutes.

So, after these forty to sixty minutes passed, she finally made a decision, giving all of us a proud "Hmf!", turning around, and leaving, as she slammed the door behind her... but not before Hel called and paid for her taxi.

Of course, we were around A in seconds, asking what the bloody hell that was. He didn't want to talk, but tiredness, insistence, and as I now think someone getting the hand of his phone, the picture was painted. Apparently, Nancy and A got acquainted through some social media, as A is running band's fan group somewhere, and she was a member. They had a weird google-translated chat, and, after a while, he invited her to the concert. He's a generous fella, it seems, giving out invitations to lots of people he enjoys talking to. And Nancy was also a very pretty lady. A very pretty lady who also was expecting... let's call it, a private session. Made herself some fantasies, probably even imagined how she's moving to Germany with A, settles down, and has half-a-dozen kids. And then suddenly, Jay and Hel come over, dragging another dude with them. And her precious A is not a prince from her young daydreams, but an adult popular guy who loves women and women love him back. And she suddenly realises she's not this unique snowflake who was invited to her prince's temporarily hotel chambers, but one of many. Giant disappointment. Crumbling hopes. Imaginary divorce. Whoring A. Sluts Jay and Hel. Faggot me. Her dreams got broken over the cruel reality.

So while all of us tried to help her to get down to a taxi, were trying to cheer her up, inquire what happened, pushing A to at least see her to the cab (at that point A was quite fed up himself, and was hoping she'll just decide to leave or stay), she used google translate to make A force us all out, and never see us again, and be only with her. And, of course, he said no. In all languages he knew even. Because, one, that's not fair. Two, it's not cool. Three, he knows me and Jay for a few years. Four, because for at least an hour two absolutely beautiful women in bathrobes with nothing underneath are waiting for him, ready to start having all kinds of kinky fun without any kind of mindfuck.

She took a lot of our time, which might have been spent at least on sleep if nothing else.

What really made me review certain things, however, was A's behaviour. Now, it's hard to explain, as we're friends, but I don't really like A that much. I know the romantic people out there would puff their chests and tell about me allowing him to spend time with my woman while I should be a jealous asshole instead, but the truth is, I am getting drowned in his energy. He's overactive, and he's jolly, and too immature for me, and that irritates me quite a bit. I know A's a great person, and I can see why people love him as much as they do, but I cannot stand a lot of him. I am getting crushed by the energy of his. So, I generally say I don't really like him. What made me change my mind and gain so much respect towards him (and I admit, I became less confrontational with/about him ever since), was the fact that he was so obviously irritated, but he never showed it to Nancy. He never screamed, or growled, not a single sarcastic remark, not a single swear or rude word - always gentle, and always smiling, always soft, and tactful. You just have to respect a man after this, while you yourself have quite a patience, but would absolutely tell that girl to just fuck off.

TL;DR: a girl comes to a rock musician's hotel room with a group of other people for an orgy, tries to force him to get everyone out, because she has dreams about him being her prince charming, and living with him together happily ever after.

#personal #story #storytime #rock

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