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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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What I Thought About "Echoes of the Past" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

What probably gets debated the most in the fandom is the legitimacy behind King being the King of Demons. Some believe that there's truth to his statement, while others, like me, like to think that he was just some stray Eda picked up off the streets. Either option seemed likely, especially since Season One never gave an answer that leaned one way or the other.

Then here comes the writers finally answering the question of who King is in episode THREE of Season Two! Because, again, they don't waste time on giving fans exactly what they want.

Fans wanted answers behind King, we got 'em, and analyzing what those answers mean requires going deep into spoilers. So if you haven't checked the episode out yet, I highly recommend that you do. Trust me, it's worth seeing.

Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz Experimenting with Spells: Hey, look! More proof that Luz isn't an idiot like some people flanderize her to be!

But, seriously though, this is a perfect little thread to introduce into the story. Luz collecting knowledge from Lilith's old books and past work she and Eda made adds to Luz's intelligence while also providing a believable explanation for how she gets new spells. It's also nice to see that she has this little notebook (or spellbook) to help see what works and what doesn't. It's a level of experimentation that proves her dedication to becoming a witch while also exemplifying how she isn't stupid. Occasionally reckless, sure, but you can't say that the person who figured out an invisibility spell through showing her work is also an idiot.

Francios with a Knife: How did Francois get a knife? I don't know. But the fact that a random knife plopped out behind him with little to no explanation is funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

Luz’s Invisibility Spell: I breezed past this, but I honestly love this invisibility spell. More specifically, I love that there's a limiter. It can turn you, objects, and people you're in contact with invisible, but only as long as you can hold your breath. It helps make the spell something the characters can't always rely on, which is appreciated. Because if it works as long as they concentrate, what's stopping them from sneaking into Belos' castle and assassinating him in his sleep? It's a smart way of explaining why they can't always rely on something, despite how insanely useful it is.

Luz: Let's gush about Luz some more, shall we!

"Echoes of the Past" is another episode that has Luz on top form. She is constantly supportive of King, even if Lilith has a point in the dangers of indulging his fantasy as a powerful tyrant. Doing so would cause more harm than good, especially when King finds out Luz doesn't believe him, but her going along with it was all done with the best of intentions. Luz doesn't want to hurt her friend, and even if she did in the long run, she still makes up for it by helping King learn more about his past.

And, as another reminder, Luz isn't stupid. She's the first to say they should leave when it's clear how dangerous the castle is and is quick to figure out there should be more at the top. Luz is a loyal and caring friend who's also guarded and intuitive when the situation calls for it. This episode understood that, so here's hoping other fans will too.

Lilith: Yeah, she's still growing on me.

I feel like this episode shows a better idea of Lilith's place in the group more than the past two. She's a person who's obsessed with knowledge and learning but considers herself above the jovial nature of King, Luz, and definitely Eda. Therefore, she acts as the perfect catalyst for what jumpstarts this week's adventure. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she almost instantly dismisses King's claims due to considering herself more knowledgeable than everyone else. Still, I like how she's willing to believe King once she finally sees evidence that seemingly proves he really was the King of Demons, to the point of referring to him as "her lord." Hooty does the same thing, but it comes across as him fearing for his own life and choosing to be friends with someone who could maybe kill him in an instant. For Lilith, her newfound respect comes from the desire to learn more, and it's that desire that makes Lilith an enjoyable character to me. It's adorable to see, and it has some comedic flavor in moments like when she dismisses everyone else and their emotional revelations to take pictures of the carvings around her. I'm sure she'll cause some controversy like other characters with rushed reformations, but for me, I'm more than ok with her addition to the main cast.

More of Lilith’s and Hooty’s Friendship: HOW DOES THIS WORK!?

ON PAPER, IT SEEMS LIKE IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, BUT IT F**KING WORKS!

HOW?!

WHAT BLACK MAGIC DID THESE WRITERS USE TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP SO UNEXPECTED COME ACROSS AS SO ENDEARING AND ADORABLE?!

And where can I get some for my stories...just asking.

But seriously: HOW?!

Hooty Making Himself Portable: Ah, yes. The classic bit where a character does something horrifically grotesque off-screen, and we have nothing but character reactions and sound effects to imagine what happened between shot A and shot B. It's an oldie, but given how hard I was laughing (mostly because of Luz's gagging), it's still a goodie.

Eda’s Portable Bathtub Boat Thing: I mean...I was expecting Eda would use something to catch up with the others, but...that thing...well...I mean, I'm still laughing just by thinking about it. That should tell you how well executed this joke was.

John Luke: ...I'm gonna go ahead and add him to the list because HOLY S**T was this guy disturbing! From his design to his movements to even the sounds he makes when moving, everything about John Luke screams as something that will stay in kids' nightmares for a while. Now, this might seem like a complaint, but to be honest, I'm more than alright with how creepy John Luke is. I highly doubt adult viewers will consider John Luke scary, but I guarantee he'll terrify some of the youngins that this series is aimed for. And that's fine. It's good to creep kids out a little bit with something somewhat scary, as it might introduce them to more good horror stories later in life.

Plus, the reveal that John Luke was only a guard for King is pretty solid narratively speaking. You can see how John never really meant to hurt King aside from one accident when Eda escaped with him. If you want to read into it, I guess it might be questionable to tell kids that something that looks dangerous is secretly nice, but that's really nitpicky, in my opinion. John Luke was a fantastic threat that is designed and animated well, with a solidly executed twist. Some might hate what he presents, most will fear him, but we can all agree on one thing: His theme is awesome (can I get the track for that, please)!

King’s Backstory: Finally, at long last, we know who King is, thus putting an end to a year-long debate. And I fully mean it when I say that the writers gave the best possible answer. Because in a way, everyone was right. Yes, King was just an animal that Eda decided to adopt, like the nature-loving hippie she is inside (She's got the hair for it). However, while he may not be the King of Demons himself, he is still the son of someone who deserves that title. So while he isn't the King, there's a chance he might be the Prince. Once again, there's no direct answer, but given how the writers came up with something that pleases everyone while still providing more questions for debate, it acts as a brilliant move, in my opinion. So whatever answer we get next, I'm sure it will be just as perfect.

Baby King:

My heart was not prepared for that level of cuteness!

King’s Breakdown: NOR WAS IT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF SADNESS!

But in all seriousness, a HUGE round of applause to Alex Hirsch for his performance in this episode. He expertly captured the raw emotions of shock, anger, betrayal, and sadness that King must have felt when finding out that everything he believed he was is a lie. It's one of those moments where I don't hear a person voicing lines in a booth (or wherever the hell VAs are voicing characters nowadays), but instead hear a living person being emotionally torn apart. It was heartbreaking seeing King so vulnerable as he's so guarded with his emotions. Seeing him like this adds so much more layers to a character that many would mistake him as a cute, comedic animal sidekick. But just like with Luz, there's more to him than people will tell you.

“I don’t even know what’s real or fake anymore!”: I'm just pointing out this line because I believe it's what convinces Luz to help King learn more about who he is. Hell, not knowing what's real or fake is the main reason why Luz got sent away in the first place, so I feel like she can relate to King when he's in a similar predicament.

Hooty and Lilith vs John Luke: This was just a cool scene with some epic moments of dodging John Luke's attacks and some funny ones, like how Hooty said the word "pain." It's a ten out of ten that I would rewind to watch again.

King’s Other Horn: I'd question the logistics of how a horn that got broken off when he was a baby still manages to fit perfectly in the present...but it is neat symbolism of King accepting his past and letting it be a part of him, so who cares?

(The fact that the colors of the broken-off piece don't match the rest of the horn is nice attention to detail as well.)

WHAT I DISLIKED

It's a Little Too Predictable: I pretty much figured almost every little twist the episode offers. But, I'm willing to say that's because I'm in my twenties, and I've seen enough stories similar to this one, so I'm more likely to know what will happen. The little monsters watching this will see it for the first time, so they'll most likely get more surprised than me...And that was my only complaint about the episode...which is more of a personal problem than an actual issue...I guess that means it's perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Echoes of the Past" is an easy A+ in my book. It gives lore and backstory that furtherly develops the characters that episodes like this should. It also tells a tragic story about King that still sprinkles in a few good jokes every now and again to lighten up the mood. Sure, there are some nitpicks I could mention (how did King remember his own birth?). But when the good stuff is done so well, what's the point of dwelling on small, insignificant issues? This is still a phenomenal episode that flew past all expectations I had for it, and it continues the winning steak this season is having so far.

(But that's still three home runs in a row. Meaning that a stinker is coming. Ooiee, is it coming!)

#the owl house #the owl house season 2 #king of demons #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #toh hooty #the owl house reviews #what i thought about

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

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Lost in a Lightning Storm Ch. 2: Far from Home

Summary: You shouldn’t talk about people, and not expect them to find out.

Chapters: 1, 2

While Henrik and Anti were talking to Tubbo and Logan, and then subsequently went off to Nate’s house to do some research, Mare went to go find Anti.

Anti was cackling with the Duke on some rooftop, who had escaped arrest after the chaos he had created. The two chaos-loving criminals were laughing and joking.

“Anti! Your boyfriend is getting too brave, you gotta[1] do something!” Mare said as he leaned over a massive air conditioning unit to get into the glitch’s face. Anti was lying on his back on the rooftop.

“Ooooooohhh~ You have a boyfriend?” Remus gave a huge smile, turning on his stomach and kicking his feet up like they were a bunch of pre-teens at a slumber party. “And you didn’t tell your best friend? For shame.”

“Shut up,” Anti kicked him in the face. Then he turned back to Mare. “I don’t got[2] a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, then what the hell is he?” Mare bit back.

“None ‘a yer fookin’ business,”[3] Anti spat back.

“M’kay,[4] whatever,” Mare rolled his eyes. “Point is, he’s trying to find you.”

“I’m right here, let ‘im[5],” Anti scoffed, still lying on the ground.

“No, the old you, the human one,” Mare warned.

“Why?” Anti spat.

“I don’t know, humans are dumb,” Mare spat. “He’s your problem, you deal with him.”

“Fook[6] you!” Anti spat and stormed off.

Directly after he stormed off, he realized that he hadn’t asked Mare where Henrik was. But it was too late to storm off. Mostly because he overheard Remus trying to weedle information out of Mare. Anti was too in his own head to admit to even himself that he was embarrassed.

So he went out to find Henrik. Except he wasn’t at the hospital . . . and Logan didn’t seem to know where he was. He wasn’t at the hospital either so Anti ran around for a little bit and found them in Nate’s house.

For a couple moments, Anti debated on how upset Mare would be if he barged into his territory. Then he figured that if Mare didn’t want him to trespass, he shouldn’t have told him to take care of Henrik . . . and Anti had been in Nate’s house before on multiple occasions.

So Anti tripped about three alarms to get into the house and Nate and Henrik watched him stroll right into the living room where they were.

“Don’t yeh[7] two know not ta[8] talk about someone behind their back?” Anti layered on the glitching and blood as much as he could.

“You are certainly getting better at zat[9] effect,” Henrik complimented.

“You bleed on my carpet and I will stab you with a soul splitter,” Nate threatened.

Anti pulled out his knife, completely offended that they weren’t screaming in terror.

Nate helped up a stake, the wood was etched with runes and spell writing. “Anti, I don’t want to explain to the rest of your friends why you’re in pieces.”

“Why the fook are yeh diggin’ inta my personal shite?”[10] Anti demanded.

“Because zer is much I do not know about you, und I vish to correct zat,”[11] Henrik told him, Nate was on his computer, still looking through old census records and newspaper reports.

“I’m right the fook[6] here,” Anti spat.

“I cannot recall a time ven ve have ever talked about any’zing,”[12] Henrik told Anti pointedly.

Anti glared at him, his nose scrunched up like the demon was about to pull his lips back in a snarl. “Why, though? No point in lookin’[13] fer[14] a dead man.”

Henrik stood up, really studying Anti’s expression, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Anti sputtered for a moment, “I don’t care.”

“I am serious Anti, if all zis[15] investigation makes you uncomfortable or vas[16] a traumatic experience, I vill[17] stop.”

A myriad of uncomfortable feelings, that Anti refused to unpack or acknowledge, prickled under his skin and boiled his blood. He absolutely refused to be afraid of some past specter he could barely remember. Anti was better than some human who’s only contribution to the world had been dying so that Anti could be brought into the world.

So instead Anti just scoffed, some derisive, forced laugh, “Whate’er yeh two arses wanna dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor ‘a dyin’, go ahead. Here, I’ll e’en help.”[18]

Henrik watched for any sign that Anti was joking or would destroy Nate’s computer. “If you are certain.”

“Oh yeah,” Anti dismissed. “What did yeh shitebags find?”[19]

“Well,” Nate stalled as he watched Anti walk over, he stayed braced with his stake. “Don’t break my stuff.”

“I won’t,” Anti smiled. “Come on, we got some loser ta[8] find.”

“That “loser” is also a past version of you,” Nate pointedly reminded.

“Watch it, meatbag,” Anti warned. “If he wanted ta[8] stay alive, he shouldn’ta[20] died.”

“Eloquent,” Henrik commented.

“Shut,” Anti hissed back.

“Do you remember your country of origin?” Nate asked. “I’ve got several different deaths from lightning storms and factory accidents from the past 150—”

“I ne’er[21] worked in a factory,” Anti huffed, before mentally stalling because he couldn’t remember how he knew that, just that he did.

“Really?” Nate commented without even blinking. “That helps narrow it down. Means you only could have died from lightning if you’re as old as Mare says you are.”

“Mare needs ta[8] learn ta[8] keep his trap shut,” Anti scoffed.

“You were right there when he told me that, and you didn’t say anything,” Nate reminded.

Anti looked away from him, “I don’t remember this, it didn’t happen.”

“Anyways, do you remember where you came from?” Nate turned back to his computer. “I know the Septics first met you in Ireland, but are you from there too?”

“Been ta a lot ‘a places,”[22] Anti shrugged. “How am I supposed ta[8] know?”

“Well it vould[23] make it easier,” Henrik reminded.

Anti rolled his eyes, “I woke up in Australia. I hitched a ride on several hosts until I got ta[8] Ireland. I don’t know if I died there, my first ten years were a blur.”

“You are Australian?” Henrik was staring at Anti.

“No.” Hunching his shoulders up defensively, Anti glared at the doctor, “Maybe? I can’t remember. What’s it ta[8] yah[7]?”

“No, it’s not a bad thing,” Henrik rushed to say. “I just . . . it is a good thing.”

Nate and Anti just stared at him, neither of them sure which direction to take that comment, but Henrik wasn’t looking Anti in the eyes anymore. He was glancing at Anti though, a lot.

But with a country narrowed down, Nate was able to eliminate several different possible candidates. Until there were five people left, four men and one woman. Mostly because it wasn’t unheard of for gender changes to occur when a human became a demon.

“Okay,” Nate said. “We have: Caleb Carson, Hannah Laverty, Brendan O’Heyne, Angus Collins, and Joe Morrin. Does anyone sound familiar, I don’t see any pictures so . . .”

Anti’s brain felt clouded, like there was something wrong but he couldn’t place it. He felt the urge to stab something and run. Like he was in danger.

“Anti? Are you alright?” Henrik asked, there was a look on Anti’s face that the German doctor hadn’t seen on him before.

Anti’s attention drifted towards one of the names in particular. He had no memories left of that person.

Much of that person was gone now, eroded away by time, but snippets remained. Being arrested for something . . . feeling disgusting inside afterwards . . .

. . . Feeling sick as the boat wouldn’t stop shaking the world around him . . .

. . . The heat of the sun burning his skin, almost hot as the anger that burned inside of him . . .

. . . And then a deafening CRACK as he felt like his body was exploding with pain. And how they’d just . . .

“They left me there,” Anti remembered, his form glitching erratically. “They left my fookin’[24] corpse ta[8] rot!”

“Anti‽” Henrik called out but the two humans watched Anti violently shatter apart in a discorporation.

Nate surged up immediately and took out an amulet necklace. One he had once’s a while ago to safely carry Mare around. But he used his magic to scoop up as much of Anti’s aura as possible to keep him from fracturing.

“Vat[25] happened?” Henrik demanded.

“He must have remembered something,” Nate tried to calm Henrik down as he was casting spells to see how violent the discorporation was, “I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Henrik snatched the necklace away, looking at it. “Vill[17] he be alright?”

“He still seems to be in one piece, but it might take a while for him to reform,” Nate warned.

“I zink ve should stop,”[26] Henrik looked over at Nate’s laptop. “If I had known his reaction vould have been zis violent I vould have stopped ven he confronted us.”[27]

“Yeah,” Nate agreed and watched Henrik put the necklace on. “Be careful with him, an injured demon’s a more dangerous one.”

“I vill[17],” Henrik promised, and gathered up his stuff with a stiff thank you for Nate’s help and the doctor went over to his apartment with the necklace. Anti took a couple of days to reform, but he didn’t talk to Henrik. The demon would escape the necklace and then slip back in whenever Henrik was distracted or busy.

After almost a week since the incident at Nate’s house, Henrik decided that, if Anti wasn’t going to talk to him, Henrik would talk to Anti. He started out small, complaining about the coffee machine at the hospital, about how muggy the weather was.

Then, one night, while Henrik was sitting on his couch, watching some TV show, or at least had it on in the background while he was staring down at the necklace in his hands, the doctor decided to be a bit more blunt. He watched the gem, saw almost like glitchy lightning crackling underneath the surface. “I must admit, part of ze[28] reason I went digging vas[16] to get a reaction out of you.”

There was a pause to the energy in the necklace. But after a bit the glitched lightning continued as if nothing had happened.

“If you do not vant to talk about zis matter, I vill not force you,”[29] Henrik told him. “But I had hoped to get a violent reaction out of you, not to actually harm you. For zat[9] I am sorry.”

Anti’s aura shot out of the necklace was just staring at Henrik. “Why was that what yeh were goin’ fer?”[30]

“You have tried to kill me und[31] my friends many times, und[31] I vanted[32] to get you to attack me,” Henrik admitted.

“Why?” Anti scoffed, plopping down on Henrik’s couch. “If I wanted yeh[7] dead, I would’a[33] done it already.”

He took glared at him. “Zat[9] is exactly the problem, you have zis[15] odd stalking infatuation but you have tried to kill me in the past. Not to mention you utterly ruined Average’s marriage und[31] his ability to visit his children.”

“The fooker was gettin’ cucked an’ e’eryone knew it,”[34] Anti dismissed.

“She vas doin’ no’zing of ze sort,”[35] Henrik defended heatedly.

Anti looked away angrily.

The two sat in angry silence for a little while, before Henrik sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before carefully putting them back on. “Anti, vat do you vant out of zese interactions ve have?”[36]

The glitch demon decided he would rather talk about literally anything else, but his only other option was talking about his former human life and he wasn’t sure which made him look worse. “I like it when yeh[7] get angry at me.”

“Is it simply ze[28] anger or ze[28] attention?” Henrik asked, genuinely trying to understand.

Anti still wasn’t looking at him, deciding that he’d rather take the human talk. “My name used ta[8] be somethin’[37] else.”

“Vich[38] do you prefer?” Henrik asked.

“Anti,” Anti told him hesitantly.

“Zen[39] you are Anti,” Henrik agreed. “As you said, zat[9] man is dead, und[31] you are here.”

Something in Anti’s chest tightened, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like even the reminder that he was human. But he started leaning over towards Henrik. It was just a little bit of a lean, not enough to even get near Henrik. So the doctor closed the distance for him, lightly resting his shoulder against Anti’s.

“I zink zat you like the attention, vich I am more zen happy to give to you,”[40] Henrik smiled at him as Anti still refused to hold eye contact with him. “Und ven you know vat you vant, you can tell me in your own time.”[41]

For the rest of the night the two of them sat in almost near silence. Anti wasn’t ready to admit anything, but still tantalizingly close all the same. Anti getting closer and close to Henrik until the doctor was pressed up against the side of the couch and Anti was leaning against him. Anti sat next to Henrik as the doctor just ran his fingers through his hair. Anymore and Anti would have started hissing and pulling away. But as he leaned into the touch the glitch decided that he liked this attention.

Henrik occasionally looked over at Anti, smiling at him.

And if, as he scratched his fingers across his scalp, heard him give out very quiet purring sounds, the doctor decided not to tease the glitch demon about them . . . at least not yet.

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

Post A/N: Anti in his AU used to be a man by the name of Angus (Jack’s “survivalist” character he made super early in his channel and in this AU Angus was arrested and sent to Australia where he subsequently died from a freak lightning storm, and then cue villain arc.

Side note: Henrik likes Anti’s Australian accent, he likes it a lot! No I will not back down from this extremely unpopular headcanon.

Accessibility Translations:

1. have to

2. have

3. None of your fucking business

4. Okay

5. him

6. Fuck

7. you

8. to

9. that

10. Why the fuck are you digging into my personal shit?

11. Because there is much I don’t know about you, and I wish to correct that

12. I can’t recall a time when we have ever talked about anything

13. looking

14. for

15. this

16. was

17. will

18. Whatever you two assholes want to dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor of dying, go ahead. Here, I’ll even help.

19. What did you shitbags find?

20. shouldn’t have

21. never

22. I’ve been to a lot of places

23. would

24. fucking

25. What

26. I think we should stop

27. If I had known his reaction would have been this violent I would have stopped when he confronted us.

28. the

29. If you do not want to talk about this matter, I will not force you

30. Why was that what you were going for?

31. and

32. wanted

33. would have

34. The fucker was getting cucked and everyone knew it

35. She was doing nothing of the sort

36. Anti, what do you want out of these interactions we have?

37: something

38. which

39. then

40. I think that you like the attention, which I am more then happy to give to you

41. And when you know what you want, you can tell me in your own time.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #birthday post #footnotes #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #Nathan Sharp #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Anti trying desperately to run away from his emotions #finally some relationship progress #Anti's just a scraggly alley cat that doesn't know how to get a home #Anti has feels #angst and feels

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doomstypewriter · 3 years

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abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)

Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part.

Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy!

If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!

AO3

Chapter 2 >>

We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance

Summary: An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?

(We're in it for the drama)

---

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Word count: 3848

Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.

TW: Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).

Chapter 1 of 2:

Balcony kiss

How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret.

He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure.

“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”.

Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip.

“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”

“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”.

Janus silently nodded.

“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?”

Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought.

“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”.

“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?”

“Who are you calling old?!”

“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!”

Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit.

“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”

“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”

“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”

He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta.

“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”.

“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…”

“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”.

At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation.

“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “

“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”.

“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?”

“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”

“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”.

“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”.

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”.

Oh.

No.

When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much.

He ran.

Not from his problems. More or less towards them.

The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart.

Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him.

The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open.

Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival.

From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps.

Three months of yearning to see a face again.

That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him.

But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips.

With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless.

“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly.

“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”.

“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”.

“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”.

“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony.

“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk.

“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”

“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!”

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Janus laughed in delight.

“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand.

The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending.

He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove.

“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed.

“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”.

There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man?

Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him.

Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man.

A fool for a good man.

His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise.

“Oh, you’re a thief alright”.

“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement.

Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him?

“You know all too well you have”.

Oh.

“Well, that would make two of us”.

Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was.

“Thank you” the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel.

“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”.

“You are not anyone” he smiled softly.

“Then make the pain up to me”.

Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course.

It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.

“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him.

Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it.

“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor.

“On my way, father”.

The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.

“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”.

Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.

It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people.

At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism.

As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true.

Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions.

“I do not understand”.

“Lady Renata Regio is alive”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”.

“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”.

“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”.

Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it.

“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?”

“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy.

Janus could not help but to smile a little.

“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--”

“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”.

What?

“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”.

“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”.

“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”.

“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?”

“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”.

Oh no.

“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”.

“Shit” Janus said under his breath.

“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”.

“What choice would please you the most?”

“Oh, Patton, you idiot”.

“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”.

“Will this bring honour to our family?”

“Certainly”.

“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice.

Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life.

“Of course I will accept”.

“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”.

The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man.

Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with.

This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much.

He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess.

He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win.

He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter.

There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess…

But Patton would be upset.

His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet.

Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count.

“Janus…”

Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper.

“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.

This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it.

Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup.

“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He promptly let him go.

“I…”

Janus turned back to face him.

“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”.

“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?”

There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken.

“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”.

“You’ve never cared about that”.

“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”.

“I can’t bear to live without you either!”

Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…

“What…” he felt as if he was going crazy.

A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered.

“What are you saying?”

This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing?

“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?”

More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.

“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--”

Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid.

“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”

A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever.

“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity.

As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure.

“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.

“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.

26 notes · View notes

thegoodomensdumpster · 4 years

Text

I WATCHED GOOD OMENS IN FRENCH SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO

and it wasn’t that bad. Here are my thoughts, barely edited as I wrote most of them while watching the show.

EP 1

OK i like god’s voice so far

possibilité d’embarras gastrique is a good formulation, I wonder if it’s the same in the book ( I think I kinda need to read it in french now...)

aghghdhgs « primo-délinquants »

of course subtitles don’t match the audio for a variety of technical reasons but when you get things that have very different underlying meanings i find it… not good This one about Crowley being evil / a demon : subtitles : « c’est ton travail » - « it’s your job » audio : « c’est dans ta nature » - « it’s in your nature » i mean dang

crowley sounds like a little shit asking az about his sword

« T’AS FAIT QUOUA » - he just loses his shit (kinda giving me some le coeur a ses raisons vibe)

ok crowley sounds very nerdy when he tries to explain that he took down the phone network, i think i actually like this voice acting

ligur sounds… very suave (im a little ill at ease)

crowley getting called mon chou by satan freddie mercury is a thumb up from me

i see the part where aziraphale speaks japanese wasn’t dubbed over and we can still hear michael sheen. it’s a bit disturbing considering french aziraphale has a higher pitched voice (and he sounds soooo much more anxious than sheen, give this angel a xanax )

“sandwich bœuf cresson” ( beef and cress sandwich ) deirdre really who makes this kind of sandwiches

im being reminded that the chattering nuns prepared little cut outs for their explanation about the antichrist switch… such dedication to useless crafts (it made me laugh on my first viewing and it’s still funny to imagine that some of them either ordered or built these things themselves just so they could make this two minutes long presentation for the most important act of their satanic nun careers)

retire-toi vil démon infernal, créature des abysses XD i swear az doesn’t sound even remotely convinced when he is saying the « get thee behind me foul fiend » line in french, it’s just too over the top for credibility, it sounds like it’s straight out of some super intense dnd session

they still can’t say bouillabaisse (which, like, weird because french, but still valid). nice touch is crowley couldn’t say soupe de poisson (fish stew) either and said poupe de soisson (sish ftew)

warlock mah boy how can you be a teenager and not like dinosaurs

c’est un dinosaure un nullosaure plutôt - apply burn heal

La façon dont warlock s’est exclamé « C’EST NUL » m’a fait penser au nain de naheulbeuk

the english version has nothing on french speaking aziraphale for the second hand embarrassement during the magic tour. it’s over 9000 i literally hid my head in my jumper when he was presenting harry the bunny. Horrible experience, 0/20, would not recommend

EP 2

oooh agnes has a lovely voice !

why is young newton having such a quality dub for the three sentences he has to say

dick turpin’s name is jesse james (tbf dick turpin is not known AT ALL in france, i discovered him reading good omens)

shadwell is pure chaos (as expected). No particular accent for him though, the chaotic energy was probably enough. Would have made me laugh if he had like, a chti or a marseilles accent.

aziraphale is so fucking stressed out by crowley’s driving i thought he was gonna explode

« tu es un gentil garçon » => « you’re a nice boy » said az to crowley DANG THAT’S SO INFANTILIZING AZIRAPHALE YOU’RE TALKING TO A DEMON FROM HELL NOT TO PINOCCHIO

ARGH FIRST MON ANGE OF THE SERIES i’m hit straight in the heart

anathema’s mom doesn’t have a spanish / latino accent at all when talking in spanish…. why...

dog being called toutou is definitely adorable (it’s basically « doggy » but way cuter imo)

tickety-boo has become ça gaze. that’s valid. it’s corny but i still use it unironically from time to time so ... i stan

EP 3

« je répands la fomentation » « i’m here spreading foment » « quoi tu fais des crêpes au froment ?????? » « what you’re making crêpes with wheat ??? » love the fact that we shoehorned in one more ref to crêpes

az called crowley mon cher camarade, unintentionnal communist propaganda ftw

« pas de repos pour les… bah, pour les bons » « no rest for the… good » – az was so deflated about the ineptitude he realized he was saying, he felt zero percent commited to his sentence

i was wondering how they would play aziraphale not being able to speak french in the bastille and they opted to have him stutter a bit and say to his executionner « excuse me i’m anxious » XD

« vous êtes le 999e aristo à mourir par mes soins. Mais vous êtes le premier en costume beige » « you’re the 999th aristocrat I’m going to kill, but the first one in beige attire » yeah i guess now that az isn’t english anymore his most noticeable feature is his cream aesthetic

« c’est au cas où ça tournerait en eau de boudin » « j’ADORE le boudin » => « in case it all goes pear shape » - the literal translation featuring food in french is « turning into black sausage water ». I don’t know what pear shaped inspires to english native speakers but the mere mention of boudin always make me giggle, it’s such a funny word and such a funny food

OH !!! no terrence rampa for the tv series, we’ve got anthony J. rampa. Rip terrence petit démon parti trop tôt :’(

« tu roules trop vite pour moi rampa » SERIOUSLY i know we can still infer « rouler » (here as in driving, but literally rolling) as a metaphor for their relationship but you could have said TU VAS TROP VITE that would have been so much better argh

has anathema got an emergency stock of potteries to break in case of emotionnal crisis ?

« Rampa, un démon très futé, il m’oblige à redoubler d’effort » « crowley, a very clever demon, he forces me to make double the amount of effort » oh so admitting you’re making an effort there aziraphale ? :))))))

dang i really want to know how shadwell said that major milk bottle died because not only did he die in combat but aziraphale’s reaction is a bit intense, it must have been quite a tale (this could be a crack fic prompt : «The Epic Tale of the Death Of Major Witchfinder Milk Bottle, by Sargent Witchfinder Shadwell» )

des sorcières et des phénomènes sorciéreux x)

CROWLEY CALLED AZIRAPHALE DUCON ?????? EXCUSE ME ????? #NotMyCrowley #CrowleyWouldNeverDoThat #CancelAnthonyJRampa2K20 => ducon would be an insult, the gathering of du and con, con being a very nasty but common swear word, and associating it with du- makes it extremely patronizing. it’s like « absolute pathetic digraceful moron +++ ». thanks i hate it *frowny face *

EP 4

l’apocalypse c’est pour aujourd’hui juste après le goûter : it could be translated as « apocalypse is scheduled for today right after tea time » except that « goûter » is not quite tea time but rather the little sugary snack kids take when they come back from school and that most adults drop out of (i haven’t and i’m sure az hasn’t either). thanks aziraphale for having exclusively food related notion of the time because tbh same

ligur has no right to be this sexy between ariyon bakare and his french voice actor that’s just not allowed

radio crowley’s voice vs french ligur’s voice, who has the sexiest voice : FIGHT

(jk french agnes nutter’s voice is by far the sexiest)

gender neutral doesn’t ‘quite’ exist in french but pollution has been assigned a female voice actress and masculine pronouns (i’m saying it doesn’t quite exist because officially we have no gender neutral, but it’s a serious wip among lgbt+ circles to the point where it’s started being used in a few medias)

hastur « en attendant qu’un plombier vienne » / « while waiting for a plumber to come » does hell have a special plumber unit or do demons have to call on human plumbers for their pipes damages ? Dang hastur having to call a human plumber for hell’s plumbery is another damn good writing prompt for a crack fic

Michael is called Michel in the subtitles but Michael in the audio *shrug emoji*

EP 5

to get a wiggle on has become « il faut qu’on se remue les fesses », literally « we need to shake our butts » like, yes, se remuer les fesses is a common expression to say « we need to act in order to get things done » but it really casts the image of people shaking their booty to some music and obviously crowley thinks the same Weirdly enough I have almost nothing to say for that episode. Sorry. But we’ve discovered most voice actors and actresses so far and no bit of dialogue really struck me as worth discussing or pointing fingers to mock it.

EP 6

« on va BROUTER quelques derrières » - « we’re gonna lick some butts » OK THIS IS UNQUESTIONNABLY FAR SUPERIOR IN FRENCH THAN IN ENGLISH you thought LICKING butts was good ??? you really thought that ???? AZIRAPHALE HERE SUGGESTS TO GRAZE BUTTS. TO NIBBLE THEM. TO EAT THEM. TO. MUNCH. ON. THOSE. BUTTS!!!! not just licking, guys. This is as serious step beyond licking. (oh yeah he should have said « botter » instead of brouter btw, which is really just kicking, fyi)

« moi je crois en la paix, pétasse ! » wow, language, pepper (fyi i think « pétasse » is far far worse than « bitch » even if it means roughly the same, pétasse is almost never used while bitch is rather common, so it’s a swear word +++)

Dagon sounds like she’s got a nasty cold. #GetDagonIbuprofen2K20

I can confirm that Crowley offers Aziraphale to not just stay at his place, but to move in with him. « tu peux t’installer chez moi si tu veux ». omg they were roommates.

Bad translation strikes again : i don’t know why, but the french dub doesn’t have the « tickety-boo » / « ça gaze » being referenced as Rampa / Aziraphale is being knocked down, which is… a real mistep. It was narratively significant and I’m quite mad the translators missed it.

The Jesse James explanation from Newt has become very nonsensical, instead of the neat and to the point pun « wherever I go I hold up trafic » we’re getting a circonvoluted « because it’s a crime to mechanic’s diligence ». I’m not judging that one too hard, I have no idea how to make it better, and that’s probably how it was translated in the book as well thirty years ago, but it definitely doesn’t have the same impact. On the other hand, it definitely IS a very bad joke that doesn’t even deserve a chuckle, so Anathema’s embarassement really matches the audience’s (aka mine).

OVERALL :

I wasn’t convinced by Crowley… I mean, Rampa’s voice at first, but as the nerdiness showed up it really grew on me. I still think that french dubs have often problems with some voice inflexions every here and there, and for instance in Rampa’s case it was when he was annoyed or frustrated ( at the Globe when complaining about horses and Shakespeare’s plays that aren’t comedies, and also when discussing Azirphale’s magic tricks, it’s like… there is a step between having the right amount of grumpy complaining and overdoing it that is overlooked. It’s overacted, it should have been a bit quieter imo. I don’t mean to criticize voice actors too hard either but as an audience watching french dubs this is a very recurring problem and it always feels off to me. It’s actually one of the main reasons I avoid french dubs whenever possible.)

I have a hard time judging Aziraphale’s voice dub because it clashes so much with both the idea I had formed with it when I read the book and Sheen’s delivery that I just… kinda filtered it. It was too high pitched for me, and too anxious (though for this last point I must admit it could be funny at times, but I’m not fond of this character portrayal). The rest of the cast was rather good, nothing to complain about. There wasn’t anything stellar either, but everything that needed to be conveyed was and it was professionnal. It was also very homogeneous, no voice really struck me as being way too bad or way too good compared to the others, so it was really consistant.

So I don’t have much to complain about overall despite a few wonky translations here and there, BUT there is one thing I felt very robbed of : Crowley calling Aziraphale « mon ange » happens only once, when giving a lift to Anathema, and I’m almost certain they translated it that way because otherwise the joke about Anathama mistaking them for a couple wouldn’t work. So, they were forced to make it that way. The rest of the time Crowley calls Aziraphale « l’angelot », and despite being literally translated by « little angel », it feels sarcastic more than anything else ( the « L’ » in front of « angelot » is part of the reason why, it creates some distance, the other reason being that this word in itself has a very corny vibe and people being affectionnate to each other wouldn’t use it as a term of endearment). So, that’s a shame.

I like the English dub much much MUCH better than the French, but the french wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting it to be. The voice actors and actresses were quite good, the dialogues mostly faithful and endearing despite a few really missed steps. It really had its moments. Props to brouter des derrières, that one was fantastic.

#good omens #french #french omens #tv omens #my stuff #meta #review #long post #text post #i hope you found this entertaining :)

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Painter’s Block

Once again, we have a decent episode that winds up falling apart in context of the wider story arc.

Summary: Traumatized after the previous events, Rapunzel is feeling out of sorts, even having trouble painting again, and starts taking a class with a mysterious new art instructor. The other members of the class disappear one by one to a mysterious location by the sea, apparently painting an old, withered tree. The instructor is revealed to actually be an old witch serving Zhan Tiri (the monster who released the blizzard), released after the use of the weather machine and wishing to release her master as well. It’s up to Eugene and Cassandra to rescue Rapunzel.

Tonal Dissonance Is a Problem

We start this episode with a recap of Queen for a Day and then we jump straight into yet another festival.

Ok, ignoring that clearly a lot of time has past and no one hasn’t done anything to help Varian nor even mentions helping him; it’s just aggravating to switch from a serious storyline back to a supposedly low stakes situation without resolving the first arc properly. Yes, levity is needed to break up tension, but not in a way that distracts entirely from the narrative.

Rapunzel Doesn’t Even Bother To Think About Varian When She’s Having Her PTSD Flashback

Its a minor thing, but throughout the episode Rapunzel keeps having dissociative moments as she constantly hears voices in her head as she remembers the storm. Now I actually do appreciate what the writers are trying to do here. As some who also struggles with Complex-PTSD and dissociation, it's nice to see it represented here in some way. However, the fact that they leave out the key part of her trauma, letting down Varian, undermines these moments. Especially when they had no problem using Varian’s voice clip of “You promised!” earlier in the recap. It’s one of those things you may not notice it at first, but once you do it winds up distracting from the scene.

What an Odd Place to Make This Reference

Sugarby is quoting Ursula here, but I honestly don't know why. Ursula’s actual VA, Pat Carroll, does appear in this episode but she plays Old Lady Crowley instead. Sugarby’s VA is Ellen Greene, of Little Shop of Horrors fame. (and Rock-A-Doodle) You’d think a quote from that movie would be more apt. Also Rapunzel was admiring everyone elses work right before this, not talking about tough choices.

Yet Again Cassandra Gains What She Wants, But the Narrative Refuses To Remember It

Cassandra’s beef in seasons two and three is apparently no one notices her or gives her credit for what she does, yet in season one she gets tons of recognition. Like here for instance, when her dad gives her a detective assignment on a missing persons case. To her specifically. He doesn’t ask anybody else first and isn’t running low on troops.

You can’t have one of the main characters achieve their goal on screen several times and then act like they had never achieved it in later seasons. The audience isn’t dumb. We’re going to remember what happened and it’s insulting to the viewers for the narrative to pretend like what we’ve seen just didn’t happen.

Friedborg is Wasted Here

I’ve talked about it before, but Friedborg is an unnecessary addition to the cast. However I bring it up again because this episode could have been the perfect set up for making her plot relevant. There’s tons of unintentional moments within the episode that could have easily served as foreshadowing that could have connected her to Zan Tiri, more so than any of the other characters.

Trauma is an Explanation, Not an Excuse

This episode presents the idea that Rapunzel is procrastinating helping Varian because she’s reluctant to face her trauma. Which isn’t excusable. It gives reasons for her actions but those reasons are still ultimately selfish.

Now, had the show owned up to this mistake, I would have no problem with using it as a point of conflict, yet the show constantly excuses Rapunzel’s behavior here. In fact the show excuses the behavior of several characters with the idea that so long that they had a traumatic backstory, they’re justified in their horrible actions. All but Varian, which a big double standard.

However, and I can’t stress this enough, trauma is never an excuse for harming others. Especially people who've never done you wrong.

Rapunzel spends several episodes ignoring Varian’s problem, long past the point of acceptability. And if viewed in the intended production order, the amount of episodes doubles. Varian is left alone for months, given the timeline of the show, and yet Rapunzel, the supposed adult in this situation, is never held accountable for neglecting a child.

Xavier isn’t Tied Into the Plot Properly

Xavier just so happens to have a convenient spell book that also just so happens to have all the exposition on the big bad that’s needed. It’s never explained how he got this book, why he has it, nor is it ever used outside of the first season.

Xavier is plot important as the exposition fairy but the show never explorers him further than that and doesn’t tie him into the narrative properly, even though there’s plenty of reasons to do so. In fact Xavier will become just as useless as Monty by the time season three rolls around, even though he previously had the most connection to the ultimate villain.

The Disciples Plot Goes Nowhere

Ok, first off we get no real explanation as who these guys are, nor why they follow Zan Tiri to begin with. Why do they want Zan Tiri freed? What’s in it for them precisely?

Second, what meminal backstory we get on these guys, contradicts what we’re told about them here. Xavier calls them evil spirits, but later we find out that they were actual real people who onced lived. You could call them ghosts if you want to, but that begs the original question of why they followed Zhan Tiri in the first place and why they continue to do so even in the afterlife. Simply being ‘evil’ no longer cuts it because real people aren’t just purely ‘evil’. They have goals and motivations.

Finally, they accomplish nothing. They never wind up freeing their master. That happens through other means. They never connect back to Zhan Tiri’s own goals and motivations. They don’t add backstory to any of the other characters nor expand the mythos of the series. They’re just there to be a baddie of the week, and it’s is such a let down given what other hints we got for them.

Sugarby Misgenders Her Master

So it’s clear that the writers did not fully figure out Zhan Tiri’s plot before they started making episodes. Given how animation works and how much pre-production time you’re given before you ever even start animating (which is several years btw), that’s a sign of mismanagement right there.

Zhan Tiri is revealed to be a girl, but is referred to using male pronouns until that reveal, even by people who very well should know better, like her disciples.

Also all these tree metaphors and hints come to nothing either, as Zhan Tiri is ultimately both freed and imprisoned without them. So what was the point here?

Rapunzel Doesn’t Learn Her Lesson

This episode is suppose to be about Rapunzel learning to accept responsibility and owning up to her decisions even if it's hard. This should, sensibly, end with her taking upon her responsibility for Varian and following up with him. But no, we get a painting party instead.

This isn’t Proper Foreshadowing

So everyone acts like this painting of Cassandra in front of the moon is foreshadowing for her taking the moonstone, but it’s not. Not good foreshadowing, anyways.

For starters, it’s not focused upon. Everyone is also painting stuff and crowding out what she’s doing so your eye isn’t lead to her

Nothing anybody else paints is a hint to anything later on, so why should the viewer pick up on this? It’s just a thing anybody could paint. If anything, Freidborg painting the void over there could have been some real foreshadowing cause that’s different and stands out, but it isn’t.

It’s not on screen long enough to register for the audience. If you’re only going to notice something after the fact then it’s not a meaningful clue. Real foreshadowing has to be detectable and the audience needs to be able to plausibly figure out a twist before it happens or you’ve got a bad twist that’s not integrated into the story.

There’s no other evidence to backup the twist. All we get is one framing shot of a mirror and that brief talk with Eugene in in the cell in Cassandra vs. Eugene. That’s not enough. And no, Chris claiming her ‘dress is blue’ as a hint is utter bullshit, cause there’s Freidborg right there wearing the exact same dress.

If MoonCass was always a thing that the writers intended to happen, which we do have evidence for given released production artwork and Chris’s own discussions about the show’s development, then they needed to put more effort into establishing the character and setting up her arc.

The very fact that viewers can easily pick out supposedly non-existent ‘hints’ with other characters like Freidborg and Varian, but not pick up on the actual twist, means that the writers failed to communicate clearly with their audience. That is on them and not the viewers, no matter what Chris says.

Conclusion

This episode is frustrating. Much like the pilot, it offers up good ideas but then never properly follows up on them. To make matters worse, it winds up distracting from the plot that viewers actually care about rather than furthering.

#tangled the series #tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #zhan tiri #rapunzel #anti-rapunzel #cassandra #varian

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beetlemancy · 4 years

Note

Anon again: Thank you!! I appreciate you taking the time to answer me because I am kind of active in the community but very very new. I did know your opinions but being new I just wanted to know whether those recent posts held any weight. I want to be socially responsible with my media consumption and I was worried there was something I was missing, given I have seen specific call outs for certain cast members (Travis, Laura, Sam, and Liam) recently. Thanks again!!

Anon pt2: you don’t have to post this but for context the call out posts were as follows: Travis actively supports the military, Laura voiced a black character?, Sam did brown face??, and Liam is fake woke/virtual signaling (or something along those lines). Obviously I can find out information about this for myself but I have seen more anti-CR stuff lately which prompted my ask.

As with everything, I suggest you do your own reading on those topics, and any topic that comes up in regards to the media you watch. Below is simply my opinion. Note: this gets long.

Travis does support the military - but not as an institution. He has family in the military. He supports the soldiers. He works with Operation Supply Drop and I’d encourage you to look into OSD specifically. Whether you agree with the idea that we should even have a military or not, you cannot deny that our veterans and soldiers are given the short end of the stick. We cannot just abandon them because helping them might be viewed as giving money to the military. I have so many military vets in my disability groups. The VA is awful because it has no funding (I know good people who work at the VA too, but they just cannot help everyone like they’d want to). Programs like OSD are genuinely helpful to a lot of hurting folk and the people who shit on Travis and CR for promoting and helping them out have clearly never actually sat down and talked to a vet or a soldier before.

Laura and many many other voice actors have voiced people of color in various shows. Yes, this is a legit problem. However, obviously as with most things, the problem is nuanced. The fault mainly lies with the VO industry as a whole, in that actors actually have very little control over what they do. There was a whole strike about this very topic (though the strike covered other issues in the industry as well). In the case of Laura, for instance, she was never told what her character would look like until after the fact. And that is super common in the industry. One of the things they tried to get in the strike was more transparency so that actors could make the decisions themselves whether to voice characters or not - not just based on race or culture but also based on type of work (stressful screaming vs chill dialogue) and whether the content of the game itself was something they wanted their name attached to.

Sam’s blackface scandal is extremely old news. That’s not to say it isn’t important to note, and in fact Sam made a point to note it again back in 2018. I know people who can’t watch CR because of it, even after his apology, and that’s fine because its not my place to judge others for how they react to that kind of thing. However I know a lot of people who read his apology and the circumstances surrounding it and decided to forgive. To some people, the fact that he was asked to do so by will.i.am changes the situation. To others, it doesn’t. To some the fact that he apologized and has clearly worked to improve his behavior matters, to others it doesn’t. You have to decide that for yourself. You can read Sam’s letter HERE.

Now. Regarding Liam. * sigh * I think, and again this is my opinion, that you cannot proclaim someone you do not know as ‘fake woke.’ I think there are parts of this fandom that have it out for Liam because of a whole bunch of gross reasons, many of which I’ve spoken about before. He is sensitive and a man - that makes people uncomfy. He plays a lot of women characters and tends to embody them in both personality and body language - that makes people uncomfy. He fully embraces the bi energy (this is not to say whether he himself is or not) - that makes a lot of people uncomfy (and angry). He loves theatre and loves to explore the human condition, warts and all - that makes people super uncomfy. Now. There are people who thinks he’s homophobic. Do you know why? Its because his bi character ended up with a woman instead of a man. That is biphobia, no matter how they twist it. Bi people being “allowed” to be bi and not ‘pick the right side’ in the LG (not BT, lets be real) community IS revolutionary because its so very hated.

Another reason they say he’s homophobic is because of the jokes he is often involved in - some gay men in the fandom believe that joking about sex is him ‘making fun’ of gay relationships. As a bi enby, I disagree, and I read many of the jokes he himself makes as the kind of humor I use among my own friends. I think there is a definite disconnect between bi vs LG humor and I’m not entirely sure who would be considered in the ‘right’ on that. However, when LG people in the fandom claim that he cannot talk about gay relationships because he is cishet? They cannot know that. That is an assumption they are making. When LG fans say that he alone is responsible for this issue and not -literally every single member of CR- ? I have to question whether its really the issue and not just that they still hate Liam for deigning to make a bi character bi instead of gay.

Another thing re: Liam. Aside from Marisha, he is the one I see the most hate about. People on Twitter and Tumblr both have legit uttered death threats about him if he doesn’t do exactly what they want his characters to do in the game. Usually this is about shipping. I have seen people claim that they WISH he was ‘like vic mignogna’ so they’d have a reason to hate him more. I’ve seen a certain group of people and one in particular say they have ‘dirt’ on him but refuse to say what the dirt is - and yet continually bring up that it exists, but that they just cannot say. Why would you incessantly bring up information you possess just to say that you cannot divulge such information?

Legit issues about CR that is attached to Liam is the whitewashing issue. Some say that only Liam is responsible here because he controls all the art. I would say that we actually don’t know that for sure. He is ‘Art Dad’ and clearly has some pull. I do think that CR should address this issue, but I’m not sure they can legally do what the fandom wants them to do, which is “call-out” artists by name and denounce them. Now, this too is more nuanced than the fandom makes out because its often way more about colorism vs whitewashing. Many people do not draw Beau as white, but they do draw her as much lighter skin tones than her original art. Colorism is a real problem, but white allies tend to go about talking about it wrong or making smaller things a bigger deal when POC would really rather talk about something more important to them. It was these same white allies that tore Mica Burton apart on Twitter because she liked and enjoyed a drawing of Reani, her own character, that was a few shades lighter than the drawing she herself had brought in, even after she had said that she appreciated the variety of skin tones due to seeing herself in each of them. On the topic of whitewashing/colorism in the fandom, I personally tend to wait to hear from POC over the masses of white allies.

The CR fandom is very big for a niche thing like DnD. As such, there are many many corners of the fandom that can get really jaded, really dark, and really up their own ass in regards to the discourse. There are legitimate issues in the fandom and with CR as a whole. Nothing is perfect, nothing ever will be perfect, and people should absolutely do what they can to do better and to ask their media to do better. That being said, there are also people who think that if you don’t do something exactly like they want, then you’re Problematic by default. There are also members of this fandom who have an active vendetta against certain cast members and will use any opportunity to co-opt legit issues in order to shore up their false arguments. These people are only using the real issues and it becomes clear pretty quickly that they don’t actually give a shit about the people they say they are trying to speak up for.

There is also some fandom drama that has occurred ONLY in fandom and has absolutely nothing to do with CR other than the fact that the people involved happen to be CR fans. Certain people in the fandom think that CR should arbitrate this issue and involve themselves, call out the individuals responsible, etc. This is, I believe, a GROSS misconception of what CR’s role is and asking way too much of a source of entertainment. The fact that CR has not involved themselves in this issue has led certain members of this fandom to claim that CR is homophobic. I would caution that most callouts of CR as homophobic are directly linked to this first issue, and also a callback to the Vaxleth drama from campaign one, and is incontrovertibly tied to bi and enby-phobia and a seriously sick misunderstanding of the responsibilities a show has versus the responsibility individuals have as viewers of said show.

That’s it for now. I could go way more in depth on this problems, but I’m tired of typing. Suffice it to say, its easy to make a list of things Problematic with CR, but once you actually delve into each topic hopefully you’ll realize how complicated and filled with nuance and Different Opinions going on back from the first episode of Campaign One... Listing problems without actually addressing them head-on isn’t a good way to deal with the problems that are true anyway, let alone tell them from the false ones.

#no fandom tags we die like passive aggressive chipmunks #Anonymous #cr discourse

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Civil Warriors 7- Regrets (fin)

Civil Warriors Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Three of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: An interaction in Africa reveals more of Cassie’s hidden past.

Word Count: 5063

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Bucky Barnes x OFC

Chapter Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of brainwashing, mentions of murder, actual murder, Bucky Barnes being suave, Cassie Campbell being suave,

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

The sound of guns cocking woke the heroes. From the shadows being cast on their tent, they could tell they were surrounded. “Come out!” a deep voice with a thick accent called out. Cassie reached for her pistol, but the voices behind them caught her attention.

“They’re children,” she whispered.

The men sighed as she set her gun back down on her backpack. “We’re coming out,” Steve called as he unzipped the tent. There were a dozen young me with automatic weapons in their hands and a single actual man holding a large revolver. Steve and Bucky put their hands up as they stepped out of the tent and their arms were immediately grabbed by several of the child soldiers.

Cassie gave a defiant look as the man in charge stepped toward her, reaching his left arm out to grab her. “Do not touch me,” she warned.

He didn’t seem impressed in the least. Of course, who would be. A small blond white girl wasn’t exactly the epitome of piss-your-pants scary. The man continued to advance, grabbing her arm and yanking her forward. She stepped into the pull, putting a leg behind the large man’s legs and hip-checking his balance. She brought her elbow down on his head as he went down, then flipped, landing with her foot on his throat. The young soldiers looked at her in fear as their leader moaned beneath her boot. The old American soldiers looked just as wary of her actions. “Do any of you speak English?” she asked, her accent affixed to her words.

“I do,” a small boy of about twelve said, stepping away from Steve.

“Good,” she said as the man below her grabbed at her boot. “Tell your friends to let my friends go.”

“Why?” the boy asked, defiantly.

She smirked, a dark amusement coloring the green of her eyes. “Vell, zey do make zeir child soldiers fearless in Africa, don’t zey?” She put extra pressure on the throat of the soldier under her boot, stepping off as she heard the crunch and felt his bones give. She hummed as she pushed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small, black pocket knife. “You see, child soldier, I feel your plight much more zen your...aferage vite voman. Zey took from your family...isolated you. Zey control you viz drugs and meaningless titles. Zey make you completely dependent on zem.” She licked her lips, chuckling as she flicked open the knife. “It’s not exactly how it happened to me, but...still. I understand. Do you like your bruzzers-in-arms, zough? I know you probably hated zis fathead muzzerfucker, but do you like your friends?” She nudged the dead man with her right heel.

The boy nodded slightly, obviously unsure of where Cassie was going with her line of questioning. “Good for you. I didn’t haf friends ven I vas your age. I vas all alone until I vas seventeen. It’s good to haf friends. Now, look into my eyes and know zee truz of my words.” Bucky could see a glimmer of hope in Steve’s eyes as Cassie bent down enough to be at the boy’s level. “If your friends do not release my friends, I vill kill you...but not before I haf made you vatch as I tear apart your bruzzers...viz my bare hands und zis dull pocket knife. I vill drown you in zeir blood vizout batting an eye. Do you zink it’s vorz it? Jus so you can go to the other side saying you didn’t give up?”

The boy looked into her eyes, shaking with terror, before turning to the others and speaking to them. They immediately let go of Bucky and Steve, stepping backwards. “Good choice. If I ver you, I’d take Fathead’s Jeep and go to some of zee refugee camps...see if you can find any family zey didn’t massacre ven zey took you. Don’t let me see you again, Child Soldier,” she said, bending down to pull the Jeep keys out of the dead man’s pocket and throw them at the boy. He picked the keys up and turned tail, his friends following behind him. Cassie turned to the tent, tossing their bags out on the ground before deftly pulling up the stakes and collapsing it.

Steve watched the kids pile into the Jeep, one of the older boys driving away. By the time he’d turned around to watch Cassie, she’d stuffed the tent back into the bag and attached it to her backpack. “Come on. Vee haf to go,” she said, not waiting before she started to walk away from the soldiers and the dead man.

“What the hell was that?” Steve asked, looking down at the body.

“Guten Tag, Junior,” Bucky said before grabbing his bag and following after her. “Hey. I know you don’t like letting that part of yourself out, but...thank you. Steve and I...we wouldn’t have wanted to…”

“It vas stupid. Vee nefer should haf gone to sleep vizout a lookout. Vee cannot ignore zee dangers just because vee are superhuman.”

“You’re right,” Bucky said, adjusting his bag. “We’ll start pulling shifts at night, okay?”

Cassie stopped and sighed heavily as she shook her head. “No. You are boz still healing from zee fight viz Stark. I vill do lookout.”

He scoffed loudly. “Sweetheart, you may not be a hundred years old and beaten up but you do need sleep.”

“No, I don’t. I took zis off zee fathead. I vill be able to continue vizout sleep,” Cassie said, present a baggy of pills to him. “Amphetamines. They use zem to control zee boys.”

“You’re not serious?” Cassie just stared at Bucky who shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said before pulling his arm back and punching her in her temple.

She came back up, her hand on her head. “What was that for?” she demanded.

Bucky shrugged. “Thought it would help. You were acting a little too Hydra for my liking. The accent, the ‘let’s throw pills at it’ attitude. I mean, we really don’t want a call-back to the Pervitan days.”

“I still think I’m the better choice for watch,” Cassie said, looking down at the bag of pills in her hand. “And if the best way to accomplish that is some...sketchy amphetamines, then maybe…”

“We’re gonna trade off responsibility on the night watch,” Bucky said, grabbing the bag and throwing it.

Realization seemed to come over her as Steve walked up. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, falling to her knees. She retched, her hands going to her stomach. “I killed that man.” She retched again, tears rolling down her face. “I told that kid I was going to drown him in his friends’ blood. What wa-” The remnants of her MRE dinner from the night before finally made their way up her esophagus and spilled on the ground in front of her.

Bucky was at her side immediately, running his hand soothingly between her shoulders. “It’s okay. Just get it all out.”

Her bag began to ring so Steve dug his hand into her backpack to pull out her phone and answer it. “Hello?”

“Give the phone to Miss Campbell, Steve,” Fury’s voice said.

“She’s a bit busy right now, Fury.”

“Puking her guts out all over the African landscape, I know. Give her the phone anyway,” Fury demanded.

“Nick Fury,” Steve said, placing the phone next to her head.

“I told you not to ask questions, Campbell. Why did you have to push it?”

Cassie grasped at the phone, pushing it into her ear so hard that it was painful. “You...should’ve told me...years ago,” she growled.

“What, so that you’d always hate what you see in the mirror? Or worse, like it? Aspire to be what Hydra wanted of you instead of fighting against it like you did? I found a confused little girl in the Alps, Campbell. A little girl with no name, no memory, who honestly didn’t know a damn thing about my missing agents. I hoped that the work we did on you would be enough and I think it would’ve been if you’d stayed out West with Coulson.”

“Loki would’ve found me anyway,” she cried. “Barton told him about me! About...my father, my past! He would have come for me. But...what’s...happening to me, Nick? I’m not just remembering her, I’m becoming her!”

“No. You aren’t. You won’t ever be her again,” he said, forcefully. “All of your experiences, that’s what makes you. The experiences that we hid from you when you got to the Fridge, they’re just starting to color your personality. And if you don’t freak out about it, woman, this may not be a bad thing.”

“May not be a bad thing?” She sat up straight, letting the pressure off of the phone. “I just killed a man.”

“Who was probably going to rape and kill you. Sometimes men need to die. You haven’t killed a good man since Agent Barker and you didn’t have any control of that.”

“Barker?” she squeaked. ‘Theodore Joseph Barker, SHIELD level five, 128-42-0724’ flashed through her head. “Oh, my God!” she breathed out.

“When you get done in Africa, Cassie, call me. There’s options here.”

“Options? There’s not...I’m exactly the opposite of the person I thought I was,” she said, dropping the phone and standing. She took off running, her bag and the tent thumping against her back as she ran.

Steve picked up the phone as Bucky took off after her. “She’s going to have to call you back, Nick.”

“You and Barnes need to keep a close eye on her, Rogers. She needs someone to pull her out of this or we might lose her. I can’t imagine how much of a boost it’d be for Hydra if she decided to give into her programming.”

Steve sighed. “It would be like her father coming back.”

“Exactly. The last thing we need is Hydra rallying around their legacy. You need to help her remember who she is. We don’t have Barton to do it this time.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t doubt that she is a good person, but...what just happened…” He ran his hand through his hair. “It was like watching Loki and...Natasha fight for control of her body. She killed a man, threatened a little boy...it was disturbing.”

“If you don’t think that you and Barnes can bring her back, let me know. I’ll have Phil swoop in and grab her. SHIELD can hook her up and get rid of those bad memories.”

“I feel like that’d be adding fuel to a fire.” Steve looked around to where he could see Bucky standing with Cassie, about a quarter mile away. “I’ll see what I can do.” Steve turned off the phone and looked down at it before starting over to join his companions. He wasn’t sure how to bring her back. Clint was the one who always knew her. Clint was the one who always pulled her back.

Bucky and Cassie’s voices carried easily to him as he approached. “This isn’t war, Sergeant, and I’m not supposed to be a soldier! I just wanted to be an Avenger, help people!” she shrieked.

“You do help people. You helped those kids. You sent them to go find their families!”

“After I killed their handler! I threatened to tear those kids apart and drown that boy in their blood!”

“You wouldn’t have done that, though. You-”

“You don’t know that! You don’t know me!” Steve watched from a couple hundred feet away as Cassie dropped her bag and pulled out a pistol, shoving it into Bucky’s hand. Steve ran forward as she looked up at Bucky, begging him. “You have to. I can’t be that. Please!”

“I can’t. You...I don’t want to kill-”

“Neither do I!” she cried. “The only way to keep me from killing anyone else is if you-”

Steve cut her off with a sharp slap across her left cheek. “Stop it!” he demanded as her eyes went wide. It wasn’t too extreme to slap her. He needed to pull her back. “You threatened the kid to avoid hurting him and his friends in a fight. It was graphic but it needed to be so he’d believe it. I know you wouldn’t have gone through with any of it.” He took a deep breath as she blinked at him dumbfounded. “The warlord you killed was an evil man who never would have let those boys go and is likely responsible for thousands of deaths. You can feel bad about the blood on your boots, Cass, but do not rid the world of one of the best women I’ve had the pleasure of knowing just because you scared yourself.”

Cassie gasped, closing her eyes and fell forward sobbing into Bucky’s chest. Steve sighed in relief as Bucky dropped the gun and held her close to him. “Hey, it’s okay. It’ll be okay,” he whispered soothingly as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

Steve felt a little lost as he tried to think of words to make things better. “You’re...a good woman. You really are. I wouldn’t be your friend if I thought you were-” Steve sighed deeply, afraid he wasn’t getting through to her. “Damnit, Cassie, I wanted to date you.”

“‘Wanted’. Key word.” She pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “I keep crying on you,” she whispered, looking up at Bucky.

Bucky gave her an earnest look. “I’d rather you cry on me than bleed on me,” he whispered.

Steve rolled his eyes as he kneeled down next to her. “It’s not ‘wanted’ because you’re bad or because you changed, Cass, it’s because you chose Clint and I...moved on. Why do you think it’s so hard for me to watch you flirting with Bucky? Because if you changed your mind about Barton, then I just wasted the last year pretending we could be just friends.”

“What about your CIA dame?” Bucky asked as Cassie rubbed her hands roughly over her eyes.

“Sharon...probably got fired for helping me, but she didn’t go to prison for it.” Steve set his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. “Sharon didn’t travel halfway around the world to help me when she knew it would pit her against her mentor...the man who helped her realize her potential as a hero and nurtures her as a scientist. Sharon didn’t...stand up to an alien prince and tell him that she wasn’t going to be his puppet anymore. She’s strong, like Peggy was, but...I don’t know. There’s a lot of good in you, Cassie, and I hate to think you might hurt yourself because of some-”

“Hate to think of you hurting yourself at all,” Bucky interrupted.

She shook her head and looked at her lap. “You...really don’t think it’s...I mean...I’m a killer.”

“So are we. We’re soldiers. Back in the war, before the train...we killed Hydra agents by the dozen...and after the train, I rampaged against the ones that took Buck from me. It’s...it never stops weighing on you, but it’s necessary.” He reached out and gently grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You are not the one who killed those SHIELD agents. You aren’t her. You have grown and you’ve become something completely separate from what Hydra planned for ‘Project Kind number four fifty-two’. You aren’t her and if you’re remembering what she did, then...that is just going to help you avoid the mistakes you would have made if you were her.”

He swept his thumb across her jawline. “You are amazing and you are a good woman. Please, don’t do anything stupid. Just...don’t. I couldn’t deal with losing another…”

She blinked a few times before swallowing and nodding. “Cool,” she said, shortly. “Well, I’m...ready to get to Wakanda so let’s go,” she finished, hopping up and grabbing her pistol from the ground.

“Uh...what just-” Bucky looked at her from his spot on the ground, confusion filling him.

“I can’t do this again,” she explained, tucking her pistol into her bag. “So, I’m not gonna do this again. Let’s go.”

“Do what again?” Bucky asked, standing.

“The choosing. Steve’s still got a flame, you’ve got a flame. I’ve got...various fires. I just want to...not. Let’s go. We can make Wakanda in two days if we keep moving. No sleep ‘til Brooklyn,” she said, shaking her head and smiling tightly.

“What?” Steve asked.

“It’s a song? I think?” Bucky said, starting to walk away.

“Beastie Boys. Put ‘em on your list,” Cassie said, following Bucky.

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

The border of Wakanda was heavily guarded. They’d barely crossed into Wakandan territory when they were approached by a group of farmers. “We were expecting two American men. Who is the American woman?”

“I’m actually German if we’re being accurate,” she corrected with a smile. “Cassandra Campbell. I-I wasn’t invited, but King T’Challa has met me. I…”

The soldiers spoke to each other in their native tongue before one pulled out a communicator. After a moment, there was a response then they were led to a palace, where T’Challa greeted them. Cassie bowed her head to the king. “Miss Campbell, I was not expecting you to be with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. It is good to see you.”

“It is good to officially meet you, your Highness. This is a much better setting than the battlefield,” she said with a tight smile.

“Your Secretary Ross told me that you were with child and that you were sent home after you signed the Accords.” T’Challa offered his hand, which she shook.

She looked down at his hand and bit her bottom lip. “I lost the baby,” she lied. It was easier than the truth. “And I don’t really have a home...just people. I have people that I care about and I wanted to protect them on their journey. Thank you for allowing me entrance. It really is as beautiful as I imagined it would be.”

“Natasha said you are a scientist, Miss Red Queen.” He shook his head. “Not ‘Doctor’?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. I’ve actually just finished my undergrad degree. Haven’t even walked the stage for my graduation yet. Probably never will.”

“Well, allow me to take you on a tour of our labs.”

The tour ended with T’Challa asking one of his men to escort the guests to their rooms, a trio of large, ornate doors. Another servant appeared as she was settling and delivered a dress for her to wear to dinner. She took a long bath to scrub the dirt of the journey off of her and stared at herself in the mirror after she’d dressed. The dress fit her perfectly and it was the nicest she’d ever worn, a black sheath dress that dropped below her knees. The neckline was a deep V, showing most of her scars. She bit her bottom lip, running a comb through her hair and pulling the strands across her shoulders to minimize the exposure of her damage.

A knock came to her door and she checked the mirror again before opening it to reveal Bucky, who looked similarly uncomfortable in his clean, borrowed clothes. His clothing contrasted her, white pants and a tank top against her black dress. She smiled. “I knew there was a man under all that blood and dirt,” she teased, letting him into her room. “What are you doing in my room, Bucky? Steve will blow-”

“He’s busy with the king. Discussing my fate, I suppose.” He looked around the room. “I’m here ‘cause I needed to-”

“Say ‘goodbye’?” she finished for him. She leaned against a vanity with a large, antique mirror. “I saw how you were looking at the cryo tank...like it was your salvation. You’re gonna have them freeze you again.”

He licked his lips and ran his hand over his lips. “I think it’s the only way to be sure I won’t hurt anyone else. There’s no way I can do any damage if I’m asleep.”

“No way to do any good either,” she pointed out, quietly.

“I wanted to talk to you about it...since you-”

“I’d understand? Better than Steve anyway. Have you told him?” she asked, her voice squeaking. Bucky looked away. “I mean, I understand. I do. I understand wanting to shut everything off and...being afraid of what will happen if you don’t, ya know, freeze. I…” A tear escaped her eye and she let it roll down her face. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m going to tell him tonight...and you’re safe here, Cassie. You and Steve can get rested up and go save your archer...and your friends.” She looked away at the reminder of her fiance as Bucky sat on her bed and looked at his feet. “I’d like to, before I get into the cryo tank...I’d like to have a beautiful woman in my arms again.”

“No,” she whispered. “Because if I kiss you, if I...if I go further...if I do what I’ve wanted to do with you since I saw you in Leipzig, it’s over. You’re gonna get in that tank and I’m never-”

“I’m getting in that tank whether you kiss me or not,” he said, standing and crossing the distance between them in three long strides. Blue eyes pierced her green ones. “But am I going to have the taste of you on my lips when I go under?”

Her lips quivered as she fought her tears. “I should say ‘no’. I’m supposed to be a good woman. A good woman would say ‘no’.” She shook her head, but couldn’t look away from his eyes. “I have an archer waiting for me and he thinks I’m a good woman. He thinks I’m-” She stopped speaking abruptly and reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his head down to smash their lips together. His arm wrapped around her, holding her close as her tongue slipped into his mouth. She pulled away, biting her lip as he licked his own.

“You taste like whiskey,” he whispered.

She smiled softly, pulling his arm off of her waist. “That’s weird. I haven’t had anything to drink.”

“Maybe it’s natural. Maybe you just remind me of whiskey because of how you make me feel.”

Cassie blushed deeply and went to her tiptoes to place a soft kiss to his lips. “Do you think...do you think I should go under too?” she whispered against his lips.

“The cryo?” Bucky asked, stepping back. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. That’s up to you. I know it’s the best option for me.” He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. “Do you think we could-”

“Miss Campbell? It is dinner time,” came through the door.

“All right, I’ll be...I’ll be right there,” she called before looking at Bucky again. “Another time. You should go. She’ll be knocking your door soon.”

Bucky didn’t say a word, nodding as he slipped out of her room.

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

Dinner was nice, simple, and Shuri seemed very interested in how Hydra had created Cassie, but T’Challa cut that talk off when he saw how much she didn’t want to talk.

She was hoping that Bucky would come back after the meal, she was so preoccupied with their kisses that she couldn’t think of much else, but he never came back. The knock that woke her came as the sun began to crest the horizon. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles as she padded softly across the floor to answer. Steve stood in her doorway, looking completely forlorn despite the fact that he was obviously trying to hold his emotions back.

“Steve?”

“Bucky wants T’Challa to freeze him.”

Cassie nodded and stepped out of the way, gesturing for him to come in. “He told you,” she said, quietly.

“You knew?” Steve asked, a tone of betrayal in his voice.

She nodded. “I was hoping he’d change his mind or that you might be able to talk him out of it. Something.”

“I couldn’t. I tried to convince him, but...forcing him to stay awake when he’s got that kill-switch in his head...it’d be cruel.” Steve shook his head sadly. “What if we never find a way to fix what Hydra put in his head? What if I lose him forever...again?”

Cassie sat on the edge of the bed and patted the comforter beside her. Steve took the seat she offered and sighed as his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I know how...how much he means to you.” She put an arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I know you’d do anything for him, but...this is what he needs to feel...secure in himself.”

“He’s such a...good man. I just want him to…” Steve’s words trailed off as his hand dropped to her thigh.

“I hate to say it like this, but...it doesn’t matter what you want, Steve. This is about Bucky, who feels like a stranger in his own body.” She covered his hand with her own and sighed. “He can’t tell what pieces of him are him and what pieces Hydra added. He can’t tell you half of what he did over the last seventy years and it terrifies him to think that someone can come along with a handful of words in Russian and turn him back into that ruthless...machine.” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s hard enough being a superhuman, international fugitive assassin without adding the wildcard of ‘God help me, I might wake up with a whole new list of people I didn’t want to kill’.”

Steve leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. “I guess...I don’t have to like it but I don’t have much say, do I?”

“No. No, you don’t,” she whispered. “You gonna be okay?”

Steve kissed the top of her head, moving his hand so that his fingers twisted between hers. “Yeah. I think I will be.”

She stood and pulled him to his feet. “You should go get some rest, Steve. You look exhausted.”

“You know…” Steve started, resisting her pull for a moment as he looked down at her. “You’re stronger than you think you are.”

She smirked. “I know exactly how strong I am, Steve. I did tests at StarkTech Olympia,” she responded.

“You know I don’t mean physically. I’m constantly impressed by what you can do...what you can survive and how you can thrive under conditions that would crush other women.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” she dismissed. “Please, I’m not that impressive.”

“I’m losing my best friend in a few hours.” Steve shook his head. “I know you’ve gotten close to Bucky over the last couple weeks. I know you’re upset about Bucky going under, too...yet here you are, not letting yourself be sad so that you can comfort me. That’s impressive.”

“Go to bed, Steve. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She went to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, just under the contusion and bruising, before walking over and opening the door. She gently pushed him out into the hall. She sighed deeply and walked to the vanity, pulling a piece of stationary in front of her and setting to the task of writing a very important letter.

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

Cassie didn’t have any time to say ‘goodbye’ to Bucky in solitude so she stepped out of the way as T’Challa’s lab tech prepped Bucky for the tank. She watched from her place near the window as Steve and Bucky said their goodbyes. T’Challa walked up to Steve as Bucky froze in the tank and Cassie cleared her throat as she joined them soon after. “King T’Challa, do you...do you have another...one?”

T’Challa stared at her for a minute before he nodded. “Another tank? Yes. Why?”

She looked down to avoid Steve’s gaze when he stepped in front of her. She swallowed heavily and focused on his shoes. “What are you doing, Cassie?”

“It’s better this way,” she whispered, barely audible. “We can’t hurt anyone if we’re frozen.”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he tipped her chin up to look into his eyes. “I’m losing you and Bucky. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’re gonna...gonna go save Clint, Sam, and Scott from the Raft,” she answered, reaching into her jacket pocket and producing an envelope without looking away from his eyes. “You’re gonna give this letter to Clint when you do.”

“How am I supposed to explain to Clint that I let you freeze yourself?”

“The letter’ll do that for you.” She shook her head, sadly. “You have nothing to explain.”

Steve scoffed. “You say that, but-”

“Steve, I wrote that letter four different times. I made sure to explain everything and I apologized profusely. The letter will do everything. You just have to get him out of jail so he can read it. Please, do this for me.” He nodded sadly as he tucked the letter into his own jacket, but she smiled, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before she reached up and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. As she pulled away, breathing heavily and blushing furiously, she looked down at her feet. “I didn’t want to regret it if I came back and I had missed the opportunity to-”

Steve cut her off with another kiss, holding her head and kissing her fiercely. She moaned as they pulled away from each other. “You’re right. I would hate to have missed out on that,” he breathed out.

She sighed and turned to T’Challa. “What do I have to do to get frozen?”

“My aid will help you.” The king nodded to his aid, who came over and grabbed her arm, leading her away.

She didn’t close her eyes until the moment the hypothermia-inducing chemicals flooded the tank so the last image she saw was Steve Rogers in front of her, a look of regret in his eyes.

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

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie�� Hero Tags - @atc74 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld

#cassie writes stuff #marvel fanfic #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #ofc #red queen chronicles

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 4 years

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Four Reasons You Can Pry Cass Out of My Cold Dead Hands

Look, I kept my mouth shut for like three goddamn years of Tumblr. That’s a lot, for me. I’m not famous for keeping my mouth shut, so, you know. Accept that I tried, and even though I failed, An Effort Was Made. Take that for whatever it’s worth.

Cass is the better spelling. It’s not just the correct spelling (though it is the correct spelling), it’s the superior choice of spelling, and here is why.

1. The Phonetics Are Good, Not Bad

You may see people point out that in English, single-syllable words with an A in the middle are typically pronounced with a short A sound. Bat, rad, van, pal. Cool, true! This would be a point, except that--

It’s typically NOT true of words that rhyme with, uh, Cass.

Now, there aren’t a ton of those words in English. One-syllable words with a short A sound and an S at the end are relatively rare! Which is cool, because we can pretty much look at all of them, ready, here we go:

ass -- bass -- brass -- class -- crass -- gas -- glass -- grass -- lass -- mass -- pass -- sass

What do you notice?

Sure, I’ll give you “gas.” It’s short for gasoline, and nobody ever bothered to add an extra S to make it match the pattern. So there you go.

But now take the second S off of every other one of those words. Usually you get a word that doesn’t exist in English, with the exception of “as” and “bras” (if you’re allowing plurals into the conversation). But of those two exceptions, now *neither one* rhymes with Cass anymore -- either the consonant sound changes to a Z sound, or the vowel becomes that soft ah instead of a short A. That’s what Kripke was trying to say when he says he picked the spelling because “Cas might sound like Caz.” He meant that, reasonably enough, people might be prompted to think of the only other one-syllable word in common use English that matches this pattern, which is ass/as.

But what about the other words? If you drop the second S and allow people to *guess* how they think the word might be pronounced -- well, who’s to say. Would you automatically rhyme bas, clas, glas, las, and mas with gas? Maybe you would. More likely, in my opinion, your best guess would be to either rhyme them with as, or to pronounce them as the non-English words they are -- bas relief is from a French loan, glas is Irish, las and mas are common Spanish words. None of them are pronounced with a short A.

So yeah, if you were randomly reading a fantasy novel, as a native English speaker, these are the calculations you’d make about how to pronounce a name: Das would sound more like dahz, I bet, while Dass is definitely dass. Vas and Vass. Ras and Rass. Shas and Shass. You don’t look at those and pronounce them the same way in your head; not if you’re an English speaker. You just don’t. And without the cue of knowing the full name, you wouldn’t for Cas and Cass, either.

2. Cass Is a Human Name, and We Call That Themes

Cass is a real, live name. People have it. The majority of them are women, and it’s short for Cassandra, sure, but it’s also a real, live, human male name. Really! Here’s a list of people who have that name in real life and fiction alike. For some of them, it’s a diminutive of single-S names like Caspar and Casimir. That’s a thing! Sometimes it’s just a freestanding name; Cass Ballenger the politician just had it as his middle name. Sometimes it does come from double-S names like Cassian and Cassius. Regardless, it’s just -- a name that exists.

When you name a fictional character, sometimes you just pick one randomly, but sometimes the name reflects on or points up something thematically. I have no idea if that was the intention in this case, but even if it was accidentally, something pretty cool happened. The made-up fantasy-faux-angelic name “Castiel” tends to be used by other angels, particularly ones like Raphael and Naomi who are speaking to him as real or presumptive superiors in a hierarchy. “Castiel” is the designation he was given out of the gate, when he was made to be God’s enforcer. “Cass” is the name Dean gave him. Cass is what his friends call him, and it’s symbolic of his relationship to humanity, which he consistently chooses over his relationship with angels. When he fell, or jumped ship, or however you’d like to think about it, he was given a human name, which everyone who regards him with even the slightest affection at all now uses. It’s good! That’s good! It’s a good use of a small thing to point up how differently different characters see him, and whether they emphasize his familiarity or his alienness. You lose that if you insist that his name is only an abbreviated form of his given name. You lose something from the text if you imagine he’s being called Castiel-only-shorter, instead of becoming a real person named Cass.

3. Just Don’t Be A Jerk, People Are Named What They’re Named

This is just, like -- decency? I know he’s not a real person, but it’s -- rude, right? You don’t correct the spelling of someone else’s name. Who does that? Do you have beef with parents who call their daughter Catherine Katie, because only Catie is acceptable to you? People are allowed to just do, like, whatever with names, it’s literally fine. You know what’s not typically a nickname for Dimitri? MISHA. But that’s his name, because it just is.

Yeah, it’s fandom. You can change whatever you like. You can have whatever opinions you want about how you would have spelled it, if you were Eric Kripke, or Chuck Shurley, or Metatron, or Dean Winchester. I have opinions about Isaac Lahey’s name in Teen Wolf, because it’s spelled Lahey and pronounced Leahy, and that’s bonkers! But that is how it’s spelled, and I just -- go on with my life, unharmed. Castiel isn’t a real person who will have real feelings about however you prefer to spell his name.

But the standard rule for polite society in re: how to spell someone’s name is however they want you to spell it. Normally not obeying that rule reads as passive-aggressive at best. Which is how we come to....

4. Fandom Gatekeeping Is Shitty, Actually

The reality behind the fervor with which Cas-people not just defend their choice to use the non-canonical spelling, but regularly flood my goddamn dash with weird, angry screeds about the fact that 100% of the world doesn’t use the non-canonical spelling, is that they are using it as a shibboleth, a marker of who counts and who doesn’t. Who belongs here and who doesn’t. I’ve always known this, because I’m clever like that, but recently I’ve seen versions of the Weird, Angry Screed that spell it out directly: people who spell it Cass are either new around here and haven’t learned How We Do It yet, or by choosing not to do it How We Do It, they are signaling their contempt for pro-Castiel fandom.

And honestly I understand that my reaction to this isn’t the typical one. I know that most people find those little signs and signifiers of who’s Team Us and who’s Team Them Over There to be comforting. There’s something that people just like about wearing the jersey; it makes them feel safe among others like them. I get it.

But much as I love fandom, there’s something I have always hated, and always will hate, about that kind of expectation of groupthink within fandom. I know, rationally, that part of the socialization is that you’re supposed to learn lingo and references and in-jokes -- you’re supposed to join the fandom by speaking like the fandom speaks. But there’s something, I dunno, almost threatening? There’s something crazy-making about taking this random, essentially irrelevant detail, and turning it into something that proves if you belong here or not. At best, maybe you’re “new around here” (which is okay? It’s fine, actually, to be new in a fandom and not yet realize that you’re supposed to be ignoring eleven seasons of subtitles? Why are you yelling at newbies, please don’t?), but at worst, we know because you won’t make this mental change that we’ve all agreed to make, that actually you’re not just an outsider, but an opponent. If you weren’t, you’d do what we all do.

It’s the most literal, direct example of fandom gatekeeping. If you know the secrets of how we speak and what we accept as real and important, then you’re cool and you can stay. If you don’t know, or you disagree with what we all got together and accepted as real and important, based on -- watching the show? -- then we know to stay away from you because you’re the wrong kind of fan. Not our kind. Wearing the bad jersey.

It’s shitty. It’s mean-spirited. It’s the worst kind of cliquish fan posturing, casting people with legitimately different approaches to how and why to use, change, or discard canon in their art and conversation as opponents in a dumb, made-up turf war, and it serves to intentionally carve the fan community into narrower slices of self-siloed echo chambers of agreement and validation, rather than requiring people to just -- get cool with the fact that different opinions exist.

Sure, not all people who spell it Cas are like that. Some of you seem nice. But man, I see the knives come out all over every time the Cass spelling pops up in canon, because a lot of y’all really take this seriously, beyond just habit and aesthetic preference. And even when it’s not said out loud, it’s clear to me that it’s not an argument about how the word looks on the page. It’s clear to me that those who won’t conform don’t belong and aren’t wanted, and people are afraid someone somewhere might not realize they don’t belong and aren’t wanted until they conform.

There was a time in my life when I’d find that really hurtful, honestly. That time is not now, because I have real problems, and what Supernatural fandom thinks of me really, truly, deeply does not matter to my life.

But it does bother me enough to write all this out, I guess, and I know that’s because I remember a time when I was younger and more isolated and fandom was really a social and emotional home for me, and I still have an idealistic fondness for the idea of a big-tent, non-gatekeepy version of fandom where people can just, like, be cool to each other about things, even things they disagree intensely about. There are still people in the world who need and deserve that, and it always angries me up a little when I see people deliberately wrecking that version and replacing it with one where fans have to performatively prove that they aren’t on the wrong team through weird little random tics that have to be repeated just-so, just the way you learned them. So I don’t do that, out of love for my imaginary version of fandom where no one’s asked to do that.

So yeah, the combination of those four factors means that I am never, ever, ever going to mend my ways on this topic, which is a privilege I have, as a person with basically nothing invested in anyone in Supernatural fandom. (I mean, some of y’all seem really nice, but none of my actual friends live here.) That lack of being invested in the fandom also, I realize, means that I have no social capital to spend, and people are unlikely to give a fuck what I do or why I do it, so all of this has really been -- basically meaningless. Still, I’m not really good at thinking things and not saying them, although I’m getting slightly better. Really! In general!

#apparently i have opinions

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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It's You (Keep Me Singing All Day Through) (katlaska) - kamylove

AN - this fic is really fluffy and really soppy and it takes place between the last two chapters of my story They Don’t Love You Like I Love You.

Summary: They’re still on tour and still a secret, until Sharon figures it out.

Sharon drops herself into the chair next to Alaska at the airport and hands her an Earl Grey Venti.

“Thanks?” Alaska says. It’s obscene-o-fucking-clock in the morning, and she’s not in the mood.

“You look like you’ve been missing some sleep lately,” Sharon says, with a devilish look that used to make Alaska want to do dirty things.

“Fuck off.”

“You already took the bribe. Spill.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alaska tries to go back to her phone, but Sharon steals it out of her hand. “Hey!”

“Come on. You were glowing around her before, but now you’re fucking euphoric. It’s disgusting.”

Alaska’s not surprised that Sharon picked up on it before anyone else. Maybe Sharon just recognizes Alaska-in-love, or Alaska-well-fucked; maybe she can see it in Katya, too. Sharon sees a hell of a lot.

Past Sharon’s shoulder, Katya’s claimed five seats to sleep. Alaska glances at her and can’t help the little spark of joy in her chest. Euphoric is not inaccurate. “Didn’t you tell Katya you weren’t going to ask?”

“I told her that. Months ago. I didn’t make any promises about asking you.”

“That’s a technicality,” Alaska says, but really, she’s bubbling over with their secret. Jinkx knows, and Trixie knows, but they’ve known more or less all along, and more importantly, they’re not here. Courtney knows, because she’s close to both of them, and they knew her reaction on facetime to receiving an artful, not to say tasteful, nude selfie would be funny as hell. (It was.) But Alaska hasn’t actually talked to her for more than a few minutes.

Alaska wants to tell somebody. She and Katya are both very private people, but she can trust Sharon with anything, and Katya respects that. It’s one of the things that makes Katya so-

She bites her lip to stop her smile, and casts her eyes down like a shy teenager.

“Ah!” Sharon says. “That! That’s new!”

“You need to stop paying so much attention to me, and I’m going to have a long talk with your boyfriend about it.”

Sharon just peers at her over her glasses, and Alaska takes another quick look at Katya. She’s on her side, mouth hanging open, as fetal as she can get in that position, with her backpack under her head as a pillow. Ginger’s sitting next to her, probably texting her husband, and doesn’t notice Alaska looking.

“Okay,” Alaska tells Sharon, dropping her voice even more. “Yes. And, um,” she looks around to check for eavesdroppers, “Aaron, it’s amazing.”

“I knew it!”

Alaska wants to make a wisecrack, but can’t come up with one. “It’s just,” she confesses instead, “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I didn’t even really like her at one point.”

Shrugging, Sharon says, “You weren’t ready for forever yet.”

This is not something Alaska’s ever heard from Sharon. She figures at this point, she and Sharon have said just about all the words two people can say to each other. “What?”

“You have to be ready before you notice your forever person,” Sharon says. “They can be there all along, but you won’t see it until you’re ready.”

“What are you, fucking Yoda?” Alaska says. Because it feels so damn true, even before she’s finished examining the thought. She doesn’t like thinking unexamined thoughts.

“If I can dress him up in black and red, sure.”

“Where did you even-”

“Some bathroom wall, probably, I don’t remember.” Sharon shrugs again. “I was ready for you when you showed up on my fucking MySpace, but I wasn’t ready for forever until I got over you. And then I noticed my person.”

Alaska tries to deflect the emotions rushing at her. “Stop. It’s too early to be so deep.”

“He is, though, right? Your person?”

“He really is,” Alaska says softly. “He’s -” She cuts herself off before admitting how soppy and besotted she is, and how perfect Katya is. “There can’t be a fucked-up brain more suited for my fucked-up brain anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Sharon says, “the world owes you both a huge debt for taking your fucked-up selves off the market.”

Alaska laughs sharply, and it wakes Katya. She sits upright, blinking without her glasses on, and squints confusedly at Alaska. So Alaska takes back her phone and quickly texts, “I’m telling her how great you are in the sack.”

Katya reads it and shrugs. “Can’t argue with facts,” she types in reply, and lies down again, with her phone in her hand.

“Euphoric,” Sharon says. She grabs Alaska’s phone to read the conversation, and Alaska locks it as fast as she can. It’s not fast enough.

“I bet he is,” Sharon says.

“A lady does not share secrets,” Alaska says primly.

“That lady,” Sharon says, jerking a thumb towards Katya, “does not have secrets.”

“She does now,” Alaska says. She feels unbearably smug. She’s been feeling smug for weeks, if she’s honest, and it’s only in this conversation that she finally has a chance to put it on display, a little bit.

“Someday I’ll get it out of you,” Sharon says, but Alaska can tell her heart’s not in it anymore. She’s just teasing.

“Go call your person and leave me the hell alone,” Alaska says with a fond smile.

Detox comes over right then and sits across from them, asking with the opposite of subtlety what they’re talking about. Alaska has to wipe the lovesick look off her face, and Sharon makes a joke to cover for her.

“This has been a fully surreal conversation, thank you for confusing me so early in the morning,” Alaska tells Sharon, and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she walks she texts Katya to follow, if she’s awake. A couple minutes later a laughing Katya finds her in the last stall, and Alaska kisses her until they can’t breathe. She shoves Katya into the wall and hitches up Katya’s legs around her waist and crowds in close to keep her there.

“I’m not complaining,” Katya whispers against Alaska’s lips, “but where did this come from?”

Alaska decides to save my ex just convinced me we’re soulmates for later. She says, “I just wanted to touch you and taste you and I won’t be able to do it on the plane.”

“Planning ahead?”

“Mmm.” She licks Katya’s neck.

“Did you plan how we’re going to get back to the gate with these raging boners?” Katya grinds their pelvises together and Alaska swallows a moan, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Shit,” Alaska says, and they have to cover each other’s mouths to keep the laughter down. They have to do that a lot.

<><><>

They’re all busy for the rest of the day, traveling and rehearsing and sharing dinner on the stage, then dragging up and performing, meeting and greeting–completely typical of their lives on tour. But usually she and Katya can sneak in a few moments alone, and today they couldn’t. So when they get back to the hotel, they have a lot of notes to compare.

While Katya showers to scrub off her makeup, and Alaska stands in front of the mirror to remove hers with more finesse and a lot of Albolene, they enthuse over gifts from fans, bitch about the one creep at the meet and greet, decide they can get away without handwashing anything tonight, and plan out their morning. They have a midday flight, so there’s a little extra time, but they’re both tired. Sharon wasn’t wrong about missing sleep.

Katya steps out of the shower and walks right past the neat stack of towels to hug Alaska from behind.

“No, you’re wet!” Alaska protests, but the silk of her kimono heats up quickly between their bodies.

“I'm hot,” Katya says, meeting Alaska’s eyes in the mirror. She stands on her toes to perch her chin on Alaska’s shoulder. “And you told Sharon Needles all about my superhuman sexual prowess.”

Alaska chuckles. “You know I didn’t. I just told her how crazy I am about you.”

“Well. That’s a disappointment.”

“I could call her right now?”

“Maybe not right now,” Katya says. Her eyes are shining bright enough to bring out the green in them, and she’s showing off her gorgeous smile, and she looks as besotted as Alaska.

“Hey,” Alaska says. “I’m really glad we finally noticed each other.”

Katya tilts her head, and her smile softens. “I think I’m missing something in there, but I’m glad, too.” She kisses Alaska’s neck. “So, did she guess, or were you unable to keep your mouth shut about my fabulosity?”

“Mostly the former,” Alaska says, laughing. “A little bit of the latter.”

Katya laughs, too. “I’m not surprised. She knows you really fucking well.”

“Jealous?” Alaska teases.

“Nope. I know now you and I know now you better.” She stands up and grabs a towel, finally, and wiggles her ass in Alaska’s direction as she leaves the room. “Hurry up. We have looooooove to make.”

“Ugh,” Alaska says. “Never say that again.”

Katya peeks back around the door frame. “Looooooove?”

“No, that you can say as much as you want.”

“Looooooove,” Katya says again.

Alaska throws a washcloth at her, and jumps into the shower to avoid Katya whipping her with the wet towel.

<><><>

“So,” Katya says when Alaska emerges with a towel around her waist. “How do you want me?” She’s sitting against the headboard, hands clasped in her lap, trying to look sweet and innocent. It’s too adorable.

“Hmm,” Alaska says. “I'd like to fuck you, but I saw what you had for dinner.”

“Better diet for both of us for the rest of the week. Intercrural?”

“Oooh,” Alaska says. “Big words!” She removes the towel to rub her hair with it.

“Coitus,” Katya says. “Fornication. Fellatio. Cunnilingus with the cunt you don’t have. Sodomite. Anilingus, phallus, cojones, glans penis, acomoclitic-”

“I don’t even know what that one means.”

“It means I love your shaved nether regions. Frottage. Testes. Seminal vesicle. Prepuce, frenulum, vas deferens, spermatozoa …”

“Wait,” Alaska says, sitting in lotus position by Katya’s feet. “How do you feel about foreskin?”

Katya doesn’t even blink. “If it’s a penis and there’s no rash, I’m happy.”

“No. Do you ever think about if your parents hadn’t done it?”

“My parents are good all-American Catholics. There was never any chance of that. Do you?”

“I just wonder what it would feel like during sex, you know? It would be interesting.”

“Interesting,” Katya laughs. “We can work on interesting. You can get it replaced, you know.”

“Eugh. No one is ever coming near my nether regions with a knife.”

“A wise policy that I will keep in mind for future reference. What brought this on?”

“Your word list. I looked at your dick and thought it would be cute with a little hood on top. Maybe some googly eyes.”

“I’m up for that,” Katya says. “Anytime you say. Just don’t use the E-6000, that stuff burns.”

Alaska gets up on her hands and knees and crawls closer. “Is there anything you’re not up for?”

“Hmmm. Breaking up? That’s all I can think of.”

“Good, because I’m not up for that, either.” She leans in for a kiss.

“See?” Katya says. “I keep telling you you’re perfect and you scoff.“

"That’s what I told Sharon. You’re perfect.”

“Scoff,” Katya says. “S-C-O-F-F.”

They smile together into another kiss.

“Our squirrels are perfect for each other?” Alaska suggests. She straddles Katya’s hips and drapes her arms around Katya’s neck.

“That’s more believable. You’d better just hope mine don’t teach yours how to hotwire a car.” She leans in for a kiss. “I believe you promised to fuck my thighs, your honor.”

“You’re right, bailiff, I did.”

Katya grins and pushes Alaska onto her back, shoving her legs up and out. “Something I want to do first,” she says. She kneels on the floor and drags Alaska to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” Alaska says as Katya’s tongue finds her hole.

“Fuuuuck,” Alaska says again. Of all the things Katya’s good at, and Katya’s really going at it this time. Alaska tilts her hips to get closer and just feels for a while, little sparks shooting up her spine, her brain starting to drift. “Don’t make me lose it, okay?” she says. “We need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm,” Katya mutters. “Set a timer on your phone. I forget time exists, you forget which planet you’re on, next thing we know it’s Christmas.”

“I can’t reach my phone, so you’ll just have to stop. Come up here.” She grabs Katya under her armpits and yanks her upwards. Katya collapses on top of her.

“Hey, I was enjoying myself,” Katya complains.

“I’ll make you enjoy yourself,” Alaska says. She rolls them both until they’re fully on the bed and face to face, and wraps her fingers around both dicks.

Katya finally shuts up, closing her eyes and hissing, and Alaska watches her face contort with pleasure.

They could have missed out on all of this, so easily.

“Love you,” Alaska says, and as she does she realizes it’s the first time they’ve put it in those words, no “pussy” or “vagina” anywhere. She knew, they both knew, they’ve been saying it in their own way for ages. But somehow they’ve never said it like normal people.

Katya smiles blissfully–euphorically–with her eyes still closed, and tangles her fingers in Alaska’s hair. “Love you back.” She searches blindly for a kiss, and Alaska gives it to her.

They’re in danger of losing time again.

“Roll over,” Alaska says. “I want to take care of you.”

Katya makes an interrogative sound but obeys, and when her back is against Alaska’s chest, Alaska wraps her whole self around Katya. Katya reaches back and tries to pull Alaska’s ass even closer.

Alaska helps Katya raise one leg a bit, so she can fit her dick in the space between. “Oh, God, Kati.”

They thrust gently against each other for a long time before Alaska takes hold of Katya’s dick again, making them both groan. Katya shifts her hand from Alaska’s ass to the back of her head. Alaska nibbles on her neck while she jerks Katya off.

“Fuck,” Katya says. “Is it Christmas yet?”

Alaska snorts a laugh into Katya’s skin, and Katya cackles as her dick throbs in Alaska’s hand and she comes.

“Fuck me, bitch,” Katya says in her sluttiest voice, and then Alaska’s laughing and coming, too, and she comes hard, with a long groan.

They lie there without words for a few minutes, just touching and feeling and breathing one another in. Then Katya rolls back over to face Alaska.

“See?” Katya says. “That was interesting.”

Alaska cracks up, and gives her a lovesick, soulmate smile.

“You’re all lovey-dovey today,” Katya says, kissing Alaska on the forehead. “I like it.”

“I like you,” Alaska says in that coy tone Katya uses sometimes, and they laugh together.

Katya sits up to clean off with tissues, and says offhandedly, “I wonder when we’ll be able to go a whole day without fucking.”

“At least two years,” Alaska says. “Maybe forever.”

“Sounds about right,” Katya says, lying back down. She lets Alaska spoon her again, and they sleep.

#rpdr fanfiction #alaska thunderfuck #katya zamolodchikova #katlaska #fluff #smut #its you #kamylove #submission #canon compliant

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lustresky · 4 years

Text

hochelaga [peter parker]

summary: Peter never really had a ton of positive male influences in his life, and at this point he had given up his hopes of ever having one— that is, until he meets Happy.

wc: 4200ish.

themes: angst, peter’s a misunderstood and troubled teen, some happy stuff in the end (cuz i physically can’t write shit that doesn’t end in a happy ending ok), trust issues, happy cares about peter, some family fluff because i just want peter to be happy ok:’’(

warnings: cursing (da usual), underage smoking & mentions of nicotine addiction, me trying to be deep haha yikes!

a/n: title is a song by alexandre poulin. (it’s a really good song, i highly recommend listening to it in the background while reading/listening to it after! i translated the lyrics in english but it isn’t an exact translation, i changed a bit of the words to fit in more with the story!!) i recently listened to it again and it inspired me to write this. a lot of fics have tony as a parental figure in peter’s life, and he was my first choice for this fic too, but in the end happy just... made more sense. but honestly?? idek if this fic makes any sense. hopefully it does lmao

if you have any questions about this fic, feel free to send me an ask!

please note that the plots of CIVIL WAR, INFINITY WAR & ENDGAME are excused in this fic.

available on ao3.

T’es pas mon père, tu t’prends pour qui? (You’re not my dad, who do you think you are?) Tu sais rien de moi pis de mes amis. (You know nothing about me or my friends.)

Peter scoffs to himself as he hears May laugh in the living room; he hisses at the contact of alcohol on his skin, groaning at the large gash on his forearm. He quickly bandages it up, making sure to wear a long sleeve shirt in order to hide the large white cotton wrapping around his injured limb.

As soon as he hears footsteps, he swiftly hides the first-aid kit under his bed.

May opens his bedroom door, still wearing her work clothes and a huge smile on her face. “Peter!” She grins, walking towards him and grabbing his arm— the one that had been sliced open just an hour ago. He inwardly winces, but keeps on his indifferent face.

He has a front to maintain.

“Come on! I have someone for you to meet.”

Ma mère ’n’a ramené des ben plus tough, (My mom has brought home tougher guys,) Moi, les gars comme toi j’les mets dans ma poche. (Guys like you are nothing to me.)

Peter trudges to the living room, mentally preparing himself to see another man that he knows he would hate in a few days’ time.

To his surprise, however, he’s greeted by a man who’s the exact opposite of the image that he had been used to. Where the black leather jacket had been, there’s a formal black suit— complete with a tie and all. Where the gelled up hair and five o’clock shadow had been, there’s curly, salt and pepper hair with a white beard to match.

Where a smirk that seemed to size him up had been, there’s a genuine smile.

“This is Harold,” May introduces the man in front of him with such a wide grin that her eyes crinkle. “Harold “Happy” Hogan.”

What kind of fucking name is Happy?

Harold clears his throat and offers his right hand to Peter; a first for all the men that May had brought back home.

“I’m Peter.” Peter says, taking his hand. The man gently grips it, hands warm yet firm at the same time as he shook it with one of them on top of Peter’s own. “Nice to meet you, Harold.” He adds, forcing out the manners May had ingrained in him even if he doesn’t like it.

“Nice to meet you too, Peter,” Harold smiles. “And Harold’s too formal—”

“Just call me Happy.”

Pis tu vas ben faire comme tous les autres, (You’d be just like the others,) Tu vas claquer la porte en mettant ton coat. (You’d slam the door closed whilst wearing your coat.)

Harold— no, Happy, stays over for dinner. Peter left the conversation to May and him as he focuses on the news being displayed on the TV while he chews on the food that she had prepared.

“Rising vigilante, Spider-Man, spotted!” The female TV reporter announces, hair swishing left and right as she animates her words with hand gestures. “Six thieves have been found, bound with the ever familiar web and with the oh-so-famous venom puncture holes in their necks!”

“As much as his work is appreciated by many,” The announcer continues. “Is his way of justice acceptable, when these men—” The TV flickers to show the mug-shots of the six men, now incapacitated due to the poison. Peter recognizes the one who had cut his arm immediately. “Have not yet faced trial? Tonight, we will be discussing this with J. Jonah Jameson, editor in chief of The Daily—”

The TV screen suddenly goes black. Peter groans at May as he looks over at her; her arm outstretched with the remote in her hand aimed at the now blank display.

“No watching TV while we’re eating dinner.”

C’est moi du haut de mes 14 ans, (It’s my 14 year old self,) Qui veille sur le bonheur de ma maman. (Who grows old because of my mom’s happiness.)

Peter had quickly retreated in his bedroom after dinner, telling May that he still had homework to do.

The truth is that he just can’t stomach seeing Happy and his legal guardian sending love eyes to one another for another fucking hour.

Especially when he had already told himself numerous times in the past few years to never attach himself to any of the men that she brought home— no matter how happy they make her, because he knows better.

He tries to disregard their laughter outside of his bedroom. He tries to ignore the creaks of the floorboard as May sent Happy home. He tries to be oblivious to the peck that they both shared as a goodbye.

Tries; because his enhanced senses completely made sure that he notices every single one of them.

Much to his dismay.

T’es pas mon père, m’as-tu compris? (You’re not my dad, don’t you understand?) J’les connais les grands secrets d’la vie. (I already know life’s greatest secrets.)

Peter still remembers his first smoke.

He had been twelve.

It had been an experience— and when his senses got even more enhanced after he got bit, it didn’t take long for him to get addicted.

May doesn’t know about it. Just like she doesn’t know about him being a vigilante.

As soon as he hears a scream from an alley not too far from where he’s perched, Peter drops his smoke onto the cement— squishing and therefore extinguishing it with his foot.

He shoots a web onto the light pole to his right, hoping that whoever it is that he’ll save, that they’ll give him money for his services; just like what most people would do.

Peter lets out a breath, missing the nicotine in his lungs.

He’ll need it for another hit.

Garde tes histoires pis tes conseils, (Keep your stories and advices to yourself,) Check, fais tes affaires, j’vas faire pareil. (Look, mind your business and I’ll do the same.)

Happy comes over again for dinner.

As May cooks, they both sit on the sofa, watching the news.

“Spider-Man strikes again!” The same female reporter from a few days ago announces. “This time it seems that he has saved over a dozen people in a department store by binding the attacker in his webs and incapacitating him with his ‘venom’!”

Happy groans beside him and Peter looks up at him, annoyed. What’s his deal?

As if he can read minds, Happy looks back at him, a stern look on his face.

“Listen,” He starts, head downcast to stare at him in the eye. “If something like that ever happens to you, you go and run the other way— alright?”

Peter scoffs at his words and breaks eye contact. As if.

Happy doesn’t seem to be content with his answer. So stubbornly, he asks, “Peter? Do you understand?”

Peter subtly rolls his eyes. Who does he think he is?

“Yeah,” He just replies back, not wanting to strike another conversation with another person who thinks that they have more power than him.

He has had enough of those.

Mais si jamais tu mets l’pied dans ma chambre, (If you even enter a foot in my room,) J’te jure que j’te paye des vacances. (I’ll make sure that you’ll regret it.)

“Peter!”

Peter quickly fumbles out of his suit, pulling the red and blue cloth off rapidly as he opens his closet door to stuff it in. At full speed, he grabs his venom and web shooters and locks them inside his desk drawer.

The footsteps don’t cease, and Peter only manages to get a shirt over his head and a pair of boxers over his legs before his door opens to reveal Happy; an eyebrow raised at him.

It doesn’t take long before the man’s eyes widen upon casting sight onto his bleeding legs.

“Jesus Christ, Peter, what happened to you?” He asks, opening the door even more to let himself in. “Are you okay?”

Peter doesn’t even try to keep the bubbling rage inside him as Happy carelessly welcomes himself into his bedroom; the only space that he has to himself. The only place that understands him.

“Yes!” Peter cries out, anger coursing through his veins. Fucking hell, he doesn’t have time for this. “Now please— get out!”

Happy, surprised at his outburst, moves backwards until his feet were a mere inches away from Peter’s bedroom door frame. “Okay, okay— I’m glad that you’re okay,” He raises his hands up in retaliation, sighing. “But still, what in the hell happened to you, kid?”

Peter doesn’t answer, instead he ignores the burning pain across his legs while walking towards the door with the goal of closing it. He grits his teeth in the process.

“That’s none of your business.”

Ma mère pense ’t’es l’homme de sa vie, (My mom thinks that you’re the love of her life,) Moi, j’te donne pas trois semaines pis t’es parti. (Me? I’ll bet that you’ll leave after three weeks.)

Peter had been genuinely surprised when he had come back home to find May and Happy in the kitchen, flour and eggs scattered everywhere.

Their smiles are bright.

Peter clears his throat, effectively gaining their attention as he crosses his arms across his chest. “What are you guys doing?” He asks, throwing a pointed look at May who just laughs at his question.

“What does it seem like we’re doing, Pete?” She replies, a huge smile still displayed on her face. “We’re trying to bake a cake!”

That still isn’t enough of an answer. “What for?” He adds; from what he remembers— which was almost everything, nobody has their birthdays today.

May just sticks her tongue out at Peter.

“It’s Happy and I’s first month anniversary, babe!”

S’rais-tu mon père jusqu’à midi? (Will you be my dad till’ noon?) J’me suis mis dans l’trouble pis comme t’es ici. (I got myself in trouble, and now you’re here.)

Peter curses at himself as he holds his head down in between his arms.

The principal doesn’t say anything to him as the air remains tense.

“I’m sorry—” Peter’s head pops up at the unexpected voice. That isn’t May. “I had a meeting— I came here as fast as I can.”

Looking to his right, Peter sees Happy taking the chair beside him; his own face stoic.

“That’s alright, Mr. Hogan,” The principal gives him a tight lipped smile. “Now, shall we discuss why I called you here?”

Happy looks at Peter, an eyebrow raised. Peter doesn't— no, he can’t bring himself to say nor explain anything.

Everything is clear.

He had fucked up.

Ç’a l’air qu’à l’école y auraient trouvé, (It seems that the school has found,) 10 grammes de shit dans mon casier. (The ten grams in my locker.)

Peter had known that he should’ve been more cautious; he knew that his school had a strict rule against cigarettes. He had known.

However, did that knowledge still stop him from lighting one up?

No.

Is it a surprise that he was caught?

No.

Peter bites his tongue as he tries to even out his breathing.

The next thought passes by his mind and he can’t help but wholeheartedly agree.

I’m a disappointment.

Faudrait pas l’dire à ma mère, (Please, don’t tell my mom,) Elle s’rait ben capable de trop s’en faire. (She wouldn’t be able to handle it.)

Happy took him home.

The whole car ride had been silent; neither party focusing more on the road than one another.

Peter forces himself to speak up once Happy has parked his car in front of the brick building.

“Please..” He croaks out, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. “Don’t tell May.”

God, he hated being like this.

A pause follows, and Peter worries for a second that Happy will spill everything.

However, the man beside him lets out a sigh as he places a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

He squeezes, and for the first time, Peter doesn’t flinch at the touch of a man.

“Don’t worry kid,” Happy says.

“I won’t.’

Toi, tu sais comme moi qu’on passe par là, (You know just as well as me that we all go through this,) Quand on devient un homme dans Hochelaga. (That this is how we grow up in Hochelaga.)

May gives them both a bright smile as they enter the apartment.

“Dinner will be ready in a sec!” She tells them both; giving Peter a warm hug and Happy a peck on the cheek before sprinting back to the kitchen.

Peter just looks up at the man beside him who grew red at his guardian’s antic.

He doesn’t even try to stop the genuine laugh coming out of his throat as Happy looks back at him, trying his best to mask his fondness for May with annoyance. “What?” He scrunches his nose up at Peter, trying to act tough but failing as his flushed face goes against him.

Peter just continues snickering. “Nothing.”

The sudden happiness in his stomach’s overwhelming.

S’rais-tu mon père jusqu’à cette nuit? (Will you be my dad until tonight?) J’me souviens même plus quand l’mien est parti. (I don’t even remember when mine left.)

After dinner, Peter had mustered up the courage to ask both May and Happy if they wanted to watch a movie. They both had said yes— but Peter knew that May never really had a thing for sci-fi movies, and so it isn’t a surprise for him when she had blacked out thirty minutes into ‘The Empire Strikes Back.’

Happy, however, still has his eye focused on the film. In fact, he seems to be enjoying it way more than Peter— which was a complete yet welcomed surprise.

He doesn’t ever remember having witnessed something so nice like this after his passing: May curling up against someone, a smile on her face as she slept; completely serene as the man who she loved cradles her back. It was a sight that pulled at Peter’s heartstrings, yet also tied them into pretty bows at the same time.

As the sounds of the movie fills the air, Peter realizes something which made him smile.

He can get used to this.

Y avait pas grand temps pour dire « Je t’aime ». (There wasn’t really a lot of time to say “I love you.”) Entre la DPJ pis le HLM. (Between the CSS and the DSS.)

After that night, May and Happy had started saying “I love you”‘s to one another more often.

He and Happy got closer— and slowly…

Peter let his walls down bit by bit.

On pourrait p’t’être r’garder la T.V., (Maybe we can watch some TV,) Quand maman rentrera d’son shift au PFK. (When mom does her shift at KFC.)

“What‘cha doing there, kid?” Happy asks him as he knocks on Peter’s door, slowly pulling it ajar.

Peter looks up from his papers, rubbing at his eyes as he lets out a yawn. He gives Happy a nod to let him know that it’s okay to come in.

The man then walks up beside him, a hand on his hip as he looks over at Peter’s calculations. He makes a face. “Yeah no, if you’re gonna ask help for this stuff, you better ask Tony and not me.”

Peter makes a face at him, not sure if he’s joking or being serious. What is it with him bringing up this Tony dude? He doesn’t even know who he is.

“Ask who?” He snorts, shaking his head. “Tony Stark?” He jokes.

“Uh, yeah? Who else?” Happy looks at him like he doesn’t know if Peter’s joking or not. “Tony Stark, billionaire, inventor, Iron-man? AKA the guy that I work for?”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Wait a minute—- this whole time you’ve been talking about Tony Stark and not your like— eccentric best friend?” He lets his jaw touch the floor in shock.

Happy just laughs at him. “Yeah?”

Peter blinks his eyes and shakes his head, and now it suddenly made so much more sense as to why Happy seems to always be in a full suit.

“Anyway,” Happy interrupts Peter’s thoughts, hands going in his pockets. “I was just thinking that you may want to take a break, kid— maybe watch a movie or something before you burn yourself out. Netflix just added Aliens, and May isn’t here.” He raises an eyebrow as his lip quirks up.

Peter’s ears perk up upon hearing the movie title. He’s been dying to watch the movie ever since Happy had suggested it, but most of the time he never got to as May had forbidden him to watch— as she so eloquently put it— “Those disgusting and disturbing movies.”

“Fine, fine—“ He waves off Happy, turning his front back to his desk, trying not to sound too giddy. “Lemme just clean this up.”

“It’s gonna be fun, kid, trust me.”

Peter just shakes his head, a hint of a smile on his face.

Happy turned out to be right.

Ce serait drôle un jour d’aller jouer aux quilles, (It would be fun to go bowling, one day.) Ç’a l’air qui font ça dans les vraies familles. (It seems like real families do that.)

May had suggested that they all go bowling one Sunday night.

Happy taught Peter and May how to strike.

Peter doesn’t know if, in the end, it had been a good idea as Happy ended up losing.

Still, Peter appreciates him going out of his way to teach him something that he doesn’t know.

It had been such a long time since he hasn’t taught himself something.

It was a nice change.

S’rais-tu mon père pour toute la vie? (Will you be my dad for the rest of time?) L’temps passe, pourtant t’es pas parti. (Time has passed, but you still haven’t left.)

“Happy anniversary!” May laughs as she hands something to Happy.

It’s been two years since they’ve been together. Peter still can’t believe that time can fly by so fast.

Happy kisses her on the cheek as he pulls out something from his pocket; a small, velvet box.

Peter tries his best not to shake the camera in his hands. He already knew that this was going to happen— hell, he had planned it with Happy himself, but the happiness and excitement bubbles in his stomach and rushes through every limb in his body as Happy gets down on one knee.

If it isn’t for the fact that his eyes are getting teary, he would’ve laughed at May’s shriek.

“Will you, May—“

Happy didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

“Yes!”

Moi, j’suis fatigué de jouer au tough. (I’m tired of acting tough.) J’ai dans l’ventre une carrière de roches. (My stomach is full of rocks.)

Peter stumbles into his bedroom through his window, chest-heaving as he takes off his homemade mask. He grits his teeth as he continues applying pressure onto the wound, closing his window with one of his legs.

He hears a stack of papers drop.

Peter quickly whips his head around.

Happy’s face, morphing into shock— then disbelief, then concern, then rage, greets him back.

“Is this what you’ve been doing, sneaking out all these years?” He asks Peter, gaze hard and almost deadly.

Happy rarely gets angry.

“Yes,” Peter wheezes as he stands upright; his lungs screaming for more oxygen. He winces as he continues putting pressure on the wound on his left shoulder. “I know, I know— I’m sorry but I’m—“

Happy quickly notices his discomfort. He drops his disapproving parental act for a moment and goes on full mother hen mode. “What— what is it, kid? What happened?” He moves towards Peter’s side in less than a second and Peter let’s his tired and aching body fall onto him.

“Bullet grazed me,” were the only words that he had managed to spew out through the pain.

Happy inhales a breath. “Do you have a first aid kit in here somewhere?”

“Under— under my bed.” Peter groans as Happy slowly let’s him sit on the ground; pain pulsating in his arm.

Within seconds, Happy has a needle in his hand and Peter’s trying his best not to wince nor flinch every time the sharp metal goes through his skin.

There was a pause— and then;

“I think it’s time for you to meet him.”

Peter looks up at Happy, making eye contact.

The man’s eyes are glassy.

“Who?”

Another pause. Happy lets out a sigh.

“Tony.”

Peter shakes his head. “Why?”

Happy breaks eye contact as he sets the medical instrument back down in the box.

“Because you need to know that you aren’t alone, kid.”

Pis comme c’est ma fête le mois prochain, (And since it’s my birthday next month,) M’emmènerais-tu voir une game des Canadiens? (Will you take me to a game and lunch?)

Meeting Tony Stark had been an experience, to say the least.

An experience that had ended with a brand new suit.

As Happy drives back home, Peter’s body shakes with excitement.

Once they’re both parked, Peter almost bursts open the car door— but Happy has locked it before he can even try.

“Happy?” Peter asks, an eyebrow raised. “Can you open the door?”

Happy’s hands fell from the steering wheel and onto his own lap.

“Listen, kid,” He starts, clearing his throat. “When I told Tony about you— I didn’t think that he would, you know—“ He waves his hand towards the metallic suitcase on Peter’s lap.

Peter, not a clue as to where the conversation is going, doesn’t respond.

“I just—“ Happy sighs. “You’re a smart kid. I have absolute faith in you and what you do.”

“I trust you, Peter…” Happy looks back at him, making eye contact. His voice wavers.

Peter swallows the lump in his throat. He ignores the familiar feeling of tears welling up in his eyes as Happy says one last thing;

“Just… be safe. Please.”

Pis si personne entend pis que c’est juste une fois… (And if no one else hears, and it’s just once...)

The wedding had been extravagant.

May had been wearing the white dress that his grandmother had worn; a family tradition, she had said.

Happy had worn his best suit.

Families and friends had attended. Joyful music had played.

A few of the Avengers had even showed up, wishing them both happiness.

As Peter clicks through the pictures that had been taken, a warm feeling blossoms in his chest upon seeing a specific one.

It’s a picture of him, May and Happy. The two adults were showing off their rings to the camera as both of their arms were wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, squeezing him into a one armed hug in between them both. All three of them had their lips curled up into the brightest smiles that they had ever had.

It’s his favourite.

Voudrais-tu que j’t’appelle papa? (Would you want me to call you dad?)

Peter looks at the black packet in his hand.

He shakes his head and promptly throws it to the garbage can.

Peter then swings himself home, going through his window as always to get inside. Today had been an uneventful day.

As he takes off his suit, someone knocks on his door. “Hey kid, you free for a bit? We wanna show you something.” Happy calls out.

“Just a sec!” Peter replies, putting on a hoodie and pajama pants.

As soon as he’s done he walks to the living room, seeing May and Happy on the sofa with a pile of papers on the coffee table.

Peter quirks an eyebrow. “What? Is this some sort of test?”

“No, Pete,” May chuckles at him, shaking her head. She intertwines her arm with Happy’s. “Just… sit down, will you?”

Peter does as he’s told, sitting down onto the armchair adjacent to the sofa that Happy and May are both sitting in. “Well?” He asks as soon he plops down.

Happy clears his throat. “Well—“ He starts, placing a hand on top of May’s hand. “Your Aunt— that is, if you want to call her your aunt and not… I don’t know, your mo—“

Before Happy can even finish his sentence, Peter stands up. His eyes landing and focusing themselves on the papers.

There, written in big, bold letters are the words: ADOPTION FORM.

May, upon his sudden reaction, untangles her arm from Happy’s and instead places a hand on top of Peter’s. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Pete—“

Peter looks up at May, and this time, he lets the tears fall free.

Instantly, May’s arms are around him— and it didn’t take long before Happy’s own are around him too.

“Peter? Are you okay?” May fumbles with her words, unsure on how to address his sudden outburst. “We don’t have to—“

“No,” Peter replies as he lifts his head up from their arms. “I— I want to.”

Happy, still unsure, pipes up. “Are… are you sure, kid? I mean, I understand that maybe it’s a bit too fast—“

Peter just shakes his head. He’s sobbing, but his whole body is filled with joy and excitement and glee and he’s so sure that he wants this.

“I am,” He says, as May and Happy wipe the tears off of his face.

“A hundred percent.” He smiles.

and as always, requests are open! pls don’t forget to like and reblog, thank you! :]

#lily’s lil’ stories #peter parker #spiderman #happy hogan #may parker #tony stark #fanfic #harold happy hogan #happy x may #happy hogan x may parker #marvel #aunt may #aunt may x happy

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secretsfromwholecloth · 4 years

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Dragon Age II, day 5.

The post-coital arm stroking in Merrill’s romance cutscene, reblog if you agree.

The sweetness. The realism. That is a thing I have done to people.

The more characters I meet with amazing voices provided by VAs who are actually from the relevant country, the more inexplicable the casting of Zevran becomes.

When I do an RPG series playthrough like this, I research and plan out my class and romance choices to experience a nice cross-section of stuff that appeals to me. (My first four Watchers in Pillars were the result of just this sort of planning to make sure I bagged the set of romances and faction alliances without making myself look cis or homophobic. I get twitchy about these things, OK?) For this run, I read up on my romance options and picked out Alistair, Merrill, and Blackwall, constructing the rest from there. Alistair was the obvious choice because he’s cute and appealing, of course. With Blackwall it became obvious very quickly that I was seeing myself in him; I’ve got a long speech on that prepared that I’ll give you when I actually meet him. I thought I’d picked Merrill because she was adorable, but...”lonely person researches the ancient past of their culture as a way of connecting with them even though the present-day community wants no part of them”? I, uh, may know something about that. Oh, Merrill. I hereby decree that Taran is giving you a shit-ton more hugs somewhere just offscreen.

So, Merrill, Varric, and Sten are writer-siblings, huh? Clearly madame loves me and wants me to be happy, because she’s taken very, very good care of me.

I love it when writers don’t hate me, whether for being fat, AFAB, non-binary, aro and/or ace-spec, a rape survivor, mentally ill, or just generally kind of weird and terrible. The Deadfire team won my undying loyalty that way, and Ms. Kirby has now done the same.

Hey, Isabela, get back here, I hadn’t had your Questioning Beliefs conversation yet!

Oop, time to fight some Qunari.

Stroud? The Grey Wardens are here? Thanks, guys!

BETHANYYYY *sniff*

Honestly, Taran would be having a much easier time of the whole “losing pretty much his entire family” thing if the last non-Gamlen relative standing didn’t resent him so much for the whole “packing her off to the Wardens” thing.

That’s...a lot of hostile Qunari. Welp. Let’s do this.

And now, on to Act 3. Meredith, you’re terrible.

Oh hello, Delilah Howe. Why, yes, I’d love to go looking for your brother. :D :D :D

Oh, Nathaniel, I’ve missed you. I think Anders has missed you, too. Hm, you sound a little off, but I suppose you’re in rough shape right now.

*sniff* Bethany!

Nate, Bethany, you two take care of each other. You can bond over your messed-up families and how fucked up everything got because of the Blight. Oh, hey, get Nate to tell you some stories about her majesty the Warden-Commander, he’s got some good ones. (Oghren’s got better ones from the Blight, assuming he’s still alive, but he’s best kept away from pretty young women for the sake of everyone’s sanity. Maybe get those second-hand from someone less...sexual-harass-y.)

Honestly, Taran doesn’t even have the energy to misread the situation and give Nate a threatening speech about his intentions. Just...take care of his sister, buddy. Because he apparently can’t, and you’ll never, ever convince him that she doesn’t need a big brother to protect her.

(As far as shipping Nate/Bethany, I find I rather like it. But we’re waiting until after this happens to have them fall for each other, right? An 11-year age gap is period-typical and doesn’t have to stop a pair of adults from doing anything—I’d be a hypocrite if I said it did!—but I’m a little more comfortable when it’s 26/37 than 23/34. Besides, that way they’ve had time to get to know each other, which is how I like it.)

A new Act means a new round of scouring the hinterlands for crafting resources and loot. Wheeeeeee kill me now.

...Zevran? Are you sending me after Zevran, Nuncio?

Oh, Zevran. I’ll admit, I did kind of miss you. I still wish you’d had a genuine Hispanophone VA, though. And wow, you look different.

You’ll never convince me that Zevran isn’t on retainer as their majesties’ convenient assassin friend. Or at least that he won’t be once he finds himself back in Ferelden.

Here Taran thought he’d track down some relatively nice apostates, he’d turn them loose, they’d be grateful, it’d be nice. Nope, here he is putting down abominations. He took Templar powers in the first place because he could be more useful and less dangerous to the mages around him if he could dispel or no-sell magic that went wrong instead of having to attack them. It’s wearing on him.

See, this business with Emile is how he wanted all of them to go.

Oh, Anders. It’s understandable why you would lie, considering what you’re actually planning, but...augh.

Anders, stop. We get it, you think blood magic is awful, but a) considering what you’re up to, are you sure you’re an improvement, and b) ragging on Taran and Merrill’s relationship feels kind of icky coming from someone who was so damned loud about wanting Taran for himself. You won’t get them to break up any more than they’ll get you to call off the bombing.

Sister Nightingale? *bouncyclaps* It’s after midnight, though, so I’ll have to go see her tomorrow.

#dragon age #dragon age ii #taran hawke

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zdbztumble · 5 years

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“Kingdom Hearts II” revisited: Final Thoughts

There’s an obvious logic to having the Drive Form named Final appear so late in the game, but I think it’s introduced too late. By the time I got it to trigger, the Door had already appeared, and I’d decided that there really wasn’t much left in the other worlds of the game that I wanted to do. That meant there wasn’t much opportunity to play around with the Final Form, or level it up, outside of base grinding, something I always hate doing in any game. I do like Final Form, but it should have come earlier in the game to give the player the most value.

And speaking of final - that final boss is really...lame. As in, not fun to play and not satisfying on a story level. You can say a lot about every KH game that’s come after this - and I have, and will, at considerable length - but at least each of them presents a final boss who is a primary character of that game, in a recognizable form, with (somewhat) motivated stages of transformation. Here in KH II, we have to fight buildings, blasters, reactor cores, those bomb things from the Gummi levels (which, I admit, I appreciated - bringing those into the main gameplay), the armored figure in a chair twice, and a dragon-like mecha before we finally get a shot at Xemnas as we know him (in fabulous zebra robes), in a battle full of reaction commands and triggers that seem intentionally designed to make Riku look like a badass at Sora’s expense.

None of these stages are all that hard IMO, nor are any of them that engaging. The brief section where you play as Riku is a low point for me, due to his limited moveset and trouble navigating the space. I’m not opposed to alternating which character you play as during a final boss, but the execution of the idea here is terrible. Denying any role in the final battle to Kairi and King Mickey is a bigger problem, and I actually refused to have Riku in my party until required to because of that. I’m convinced the staff behind this game want players to use him, but I say - if you’re going to ignore every possible opportunity you give yourselves to have the Destiny Islands trio together in a party, then I’m not going to play with your Creators’ Pet. (And he is exactly that. I may have softened on Riku over the years, but he - and Axel, and half the Organization - are textbook examples of a creative team letting their fondness for characters supersede what’s actually best for them in a narrative.)

Of course, the battle itself isn’t all there is to the finale, and there’s more right than wrong to the story here. For one thing, Roxas and Namine get a nice denouement, one that makes it quite clear how they feel - and what they choose - about rejoining with their original selves. As someone who was bothered by the Riku/Namine business at the end of KH III, due to memories of this game, I can concede that there isn’t a whole lot to Roxas and Namine’s relationship here. Their scenes at the beginning are emotional, and their scene at the end is sweet, but their interaction is very limited. The mere fact that they are the Nobodies of Sora and Kairi does a lot of the heavy lifting for their relationship, and that bond is strong enough - and, at this point in the series, still written well enough - to sell the idea, but only just. I daresay this is something that Days could and should have addressed, but we’ll get to that another time.

The lead-up to the final boss provides nice moments between Kairi and Riku, Sora and Kairi, Sora and Riku, and one wonderful moment between the three of them. Setting aside the fact that the whole final boss should have been a second moment for the trio, and the game’s pandering to Riku’s prowess during the fight - the scenes between Sora and Riku after defeating Xemnas are quite well-done, and very effectively illustrate how their friendship has healed and reached a new equilibrium. Even better than that, however, is the game’s final scene. From Kairi’s letter reappearing as the key to the light and the enthusiastic greetings from the Disney cast, to the last flashes of Roxas and Namine and the final exchange between Sora and Kairi (which has some of the best voice acting those two VAs have done in the entire series), it’s an absolutely beautiful finale. The bittersweet, open, and uncertain finale of KH I is still the emotional high point of the series in my eyes, and I continue to applaud the game’s staff for daring such an ending; the way KH II ends is much closer to what one probably would have expected of KH I. But the happy ending of KH II is very much an earned one, and it’s an effective cap, not just on this game, but on everything done in the series up to that point. Kairi’s past remains mysterious and Maleficent is still unaccounted for, but the chain of tragedies set off by Ansem’s research is ended, the last traces of Xehanort are defeated, the worlds are at peace, and the three friends whose lives were torn apart are finally healed, whole, and together again, ready for a new adventure.

...Or, at least that’s what should have happened.

Back when I first played Kingdom Hearts II - fresh off of KH I, unaware that CoM even existed - it was, without question, my preferred game of the two. I would’ve even called it my favorite video game of all time (which wouldn’t have meant much - even now, it’s a very short list of video games that I’ve played from beginning to end.) I would’ve said the same after the second time I played through it, even as certain nagging doubts crept into my mind. Several years and the rest of the series later, I can’t give KH II that level of praise.

Kingdom Hearts is a series where the first truly is the best, at least so far. Like CoM before it, KH II either introduces or continues trends and ideas that would bring later games down, and they all start to grate here. Elements like the secret reports and Summons lose their motivation in-story, and in the former case become a lazy way to toss out exposition that should have been part of the gameplay and cutscenes. For the first time, certain Disney worlds are saddled with stiff and uninspired re-tellings of their movie plots, devoid of room for Sora to make a difference. The pacing is uneven and it’s easy to lose sight of the main story during certain Disney worlds. Dialogue is often clunky, and fan service and pandering to Creators’ Pets hurts significant moments of the story. A lot of potential in the backstory of Roxas and the fate of Namine is left untapped. The trend of offering Kairi the will and ability to be more involved only to ignore the opportunity continues, Riku’s reintroduction to the group has issues, and Sora is caught in an awkward transition between the hero of the first came and the idiotic and ineffectual would-be messiah of later games.

With all of that said, though...I still love this game.

On paper, entries like Dream Drop Distance or KH III might’ve had greater ambition in the amount or kind of story they tried to tell, but in the actual presentation of the story, KH II is far more daring. From the prolonged opening sequence spent with a new character to the slow burn on the revelation of the Organization’s plans, KH II is quite unconventional in its story structure, and it often works to the game’s favor. Leaving so much of the year between KH I and II untold, even with CoM, is mystery done right, in a way that feels open to speculation and possibilities rather than heavy-handed teasing and baiting for spin-offs. This is the only time in the series where Maleficent and Pete make for an equal and compelling third party, and having that third force at play makes for another off-beat structural element that’s ultimately satisfying, even with the not-insignificant lag during the back half of the first Disney pass. The Organization being a collective villain rather than a single figure (even if Xemnas was its instigator) is a nice differentiation from KH I and CoM, and how pathetic the villains ultimately turn out to be gives them a nice degree of pathos - though that pathos isn’t carried too far.

While KH II is a few steps down the dark road, it hasn’t hit the abyss yet, and things that start to look problematic here are still strong overall. Some of the Disney worlds may have stiff movie recaps, but most are loose and accommodating to the larger KH story. Some may be filler, but most of them - on both passes - are at least technically connected to the main plot, and most of them - even the filler - in a meaningful and engaging way. The reports aren’t strongly motivated, but they’re not a complete crutch either. Roxas and Namine, if unfulfilled in their full potential, are still a force throughout the game (well, Roxas more than Namine) instead of being abruptly dropped.

Kairi’s denied obvious chances to get more involved, but she does get to strike out on her own and play a more active role in the story than she did in KH I. Riku’s pandered too a little too much once he reappears, but his role behind the scenes before then makes for a strong continuation of his redemption arc from R/R and is well-woven into the overall plot. Sora’s on the road to Flanderization, but he still has many of his better traits from the first game, including his greater competence at his missions and his believable, human reactions to the events around him. While he doesn’t have the arc of growth he had in KH I, or go through the deconstruction of CoM, he does have definite goals as an individual, and a pronounced sense of world-weariness as his chances of meeting those goals - finding Riku, going home, and seeing Kairi again - get further and further away.

Most of all, Kingdom Hearts II is still manageable in its story. The two sets of villains have relatively simple (but not simplistic) goals, and they’re revealed in a comprehensible fashion. More importantly, the logistics and pseudo-philosophical notions behind the villain plots don’t override the entire game, or pull focus from the protagonists. The heroes all have stories here, and if there’s an overarching theme to this game (not as clearly presented as the themes of KH I, mind you), it’s completion and resolution. If we may break them down:

Organization XIII, having made the foolish choice to discard their hearts, desperately try to escape the consequences of that choice through evil acts, only to fail and meet their ultimate end.

Roxas, who opens the game with mystery and confusion, comes to learn who he is and completes himself and Sora with his choice to surrender to his fate, something he grows to be at peace with.

Namine, having achieved a measure of peace with who and what she is, completes her tasks from the end of CoM and rejoins with her true self, after first saving Kairi and granting (most of) the heroes an escape from The World That Never Was.

Ansem the Wise, whose curiosity opened the door to everything that went wrong later, turns his back on base revenge and works to set the worlds to right, giving his own life in the process.

King Mickey, the hero who kept a deliberate watch on the state of the worlds and sounded the alert on the danger they were in, uncovers the truth about Organization XIII and plays his part to bring them to peace and finally makes it back home.

Donald and Goofy finally find their king.

Kairi, left alone with fading memories for a year, resolves to set out to find her friends, and not only achieves that goal, but facilitates their reconciliation and provides the means for them to finally return home.

Riku, after finding some measure of peace with himself in R/R, gives his all to see Sora restored and works to help him from the shadows, but fears to face his friends after his actions in KH I. When finally forced to, he learns that he hasn’t lost them, and the last of his self-doubt is discarded as he joins forces with Sora to finish off the last trace of Xehanort and make it back home.

And as for Sora, our chief hero: he is fully restored from his trials in CoM. Though eager - even desperate - to resume his search for Riku and return home, he doesn’t hesitate to start protecting the worlds again and finish off the remainder of the threat he first faced. While an authority figure presents that threat to him, Sora chooses to take it up, and carries it out without being directed or puppeted by Yen Sid at every step. The weight of the ordeals and his constant travels wear him down, the events of the year he lost (and Roxas’s role in those events) challenge him, and he does at one point refuse the call of the Keyblade (”Not yet! I have to find Kairi!”) Yet he persists in defending the worlds, even when it benefits the villains, and he fights his way to their castle to rescue and reunite with his friends. Having set out early in KH I to rescue those friends, he achieves this, finishes off the villain who turned his world upside down, and finally makes his way home to the island, the friends, and the girl he loves.

Kingdom Hearts II’s resolutions to all of these things is so final, and so satisfying, that the series since has had to ignore its finale, and a good chunk of its story, just to keep dragging things out. That’s to their detriment, but not KH II’s. While imperfect and uneven, it is a worthy sequel to the first game - the last such entry in the series - a lot of fun to play, and an ambitious and satisfying story.

And it has, to date, Kaoru Wada’s finest orchestration for the series. I absolutely adore his arrangement of Sanctuary from this game, and it makes me wish I’d kept up with the French horn every time I hear it.

#z's crits #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 2 #critique #commentary

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mrmallard · 3 years

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So I just wanna say something because the Mario movie discourse has been bugging me a ton.

Aspects of the discourse I don't entirely disagree with? Chris Pratt as Mario is disappointing. I'm personally hyped for the rest of the cast, but I get the backlash for both a lack of flavor and for people's personal grievances regarding the actor.

And I also agree to a point that booting out legacy voice actors for celebrity ones when the Big Movie happens is shitty, and VA work should be more respected - the recent Space Jam 2 controversy where each of the Looney Tunes were credited as themselves rather than their VAs comes to mind, where Zendaya did receive a credit for Lola Bunny. I can only hope that Charles Martinet gets a role in the movie that's respectful and sufficient if he's not going to play Mario or Luigi.

But I want to argue against one point I've seen, and that's that the Super Mario Bros. movie is going to be bad because "it's all stunt-casting, and it's cheap stunt-casting".

And to argue why I think this is stupid - I'm going to bring up Shrek.

On paper, how was Shrek supposed to work? It stars Mike Myers, Eddie Murphy, Cameron Diaz and John Lithgow. At least three of those people, at the height of their fame, were global megastars. Shrek happened either at the height of their fame, or not too long after that peak - they were all bankable Hollywood stars.

Shrek wasn't always gonna be voiced by Mike Myers, or have a Scottish accent for that matter - the original VA was Chris fucking Farley, another comedy star, and Myers re-recorded the entire movie with his Fat Bastard voice from Austin Powers when Farley died. Shrek was a massive gamble banking on stunt casting. Austin Powers plays a mean ogre. Eddie Murphy voices an annoying donkey. Cameron Diaz was arguably the most apt casting choice as a princess - and John Lithgow was the king of a fantasy mediaeval kingdom, which could have gone either way.

That movie set the world on fire. Mike "baby-eating fatman" Myers, against all odds, played the lead of a Fractured Fairytale-style movie with pathos - the same character who brushes his teeth with bug guts and pulls a candle's worth of ear wax out of his ear to serve as a candle for his dinner has pathos. There was an engaging romance plot and a theme about loving yourself despite the parts you've grown to be ashamed of due to their perceived ugliness. Even the fast-talking jabberjaw sidekick voiced by Eddie Murphy had an emotional arc and a happy ending.

The complaint I saw about the Super Mario movie is that it's too much stunt-casting, and it's poor stunt-casting. I disagree - while we have had a bunch of cheap animated movies stacked with A-list celebrities voicing the characters, some of them better than others (Madagascar vs The Wild, for example), I don't think the cast is enough to write off the Mario movie yet. And I find it to be kind of shitty how people are like "there's good stunt casting and bad stunt casting, and this is bad stunt casting". I just don't agree until we get a feel for the movie, like a trailer. We've seen star-studded voice casts for good animated movies before.

In the case of Toad, I could agree based on principle - but I dunno what that performance is gonna be. Keegan-Michael Key could commit to the Toad voice and do a really good job, or whatever Toad character he portrays could be perfectly fine. It's the diciest prospect on paper, but I want to hear it before I write it off entirely.

And personally? I'm excited to see what Charlie Day brings to the table. I want to see Jack Black's Bowser. And while it's not a dream casting, and I did physically go "oh." when I saw him - Chris Pratt will probably be a serviceable Mario. At worst, I think he'll be a blank slate that the rest of the cast makes up for. I won't commit to anything until I hear how it all plays out.

Saying that - there's plenty of upset that I understand and respect regarding Chris Pratt's casting. If you take issue with the guy I'm not here to say you shouldn't feel like that. I'm just saying that quality-wise, it probably won't be the best option, but I don't think it's the worst either. There are people saying we could get him replaced like the shitty first Sonic movie design, and I just don't see this being as egregious as that fucking nightmare was.

I remember this point of discourse from uproars four or five times removed from the current zeitgeist - it basically amounted to "not everything has to be justified as problematic or Objectively Bad For Objective Reasons for you to dislike it. You can just dislike stuff based on its own merits and your personal taste".

I think this is one of those cases. People don't like Chris Pratt, and they don't like Illumination. It gives them a bad vibe. You can just say that instead of jumping through hoops to hammer home how shitty this movie's gonna be based on a release date, a poster and a cast list.

I don't think it'll be perfect, but I haven't seen enough to make any sort of judgement call and I don't agree with the takes that "things are like this because the Sonic movie was successful and they wanted to get a big, bankable star specifically to compete with the Sonic movie."

To sum up - the Mario movie probably won't be perfect, I don't begrudge anyone for being skeptical and disliking what they've seen, but it really bothers me how hard people are grasping at straws to say how bad the movie is almost certainly going to be based on a series of arbitrary quality indicators about a scant few sliver of details they've received.

You can just not like the vibe of the movie so far - that's how I feel about Chris Pratt's Mario, he wouldn't have been my first choice. But some points I'm seeing are all doom and gloom based on a bunch of factors that we're just not clued into very much right now.

Before we throw the baby out with the bath water, before we give in to wild speculation that serves to justify severe upset over a movie that's more than a year away from being released - let's remember that we can feel negatively about stuff without needing a single objective thing wrong with it. You don't have to justify not vibing on something you're disappointed in.

The public image of the Super Mario Bros. movie is negative, but I feel like it's based more on negative speculation than any objective quality marker outside of a handful of cast members.

There's a bunch of reasons not to like or support Chris Pratt, and Illumination has a spotty track record. Those we can all agree on. But Chris Pratt being a cynical marketing move to compete against the Sonic movie because of how successful it was? Baseless conjecture rooted in a bunch of old console war bullshit. This movie's cast being "bad" stunt casting? Certainly not out of the picture, but I'm not convinced.

The discourse around this movie is so frustrating because so many people are stretching for objective, qualitative reasons to write it off. At best, there are warning signs - and I do think people should heed them. But that doesn't make the reasons people are pushing as if they're objectively going to ruin the movie any less of a stretch. We won't know until we see more material from the movie.

#long post

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