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#no counterpoints thank you
yellowocaballero · 7 months
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The actual problem I'm having writing Kim Dokja is that I know KDJs here, on Tumblr.com. This website has thousands of people whose sole link to sanity is badly written media and their overly masculine and emotionally repressed comfort character. KDJ as a person is bugfuck insane but he is not as bugfuck insane as everybody on here putting their blorbos in jam jars and shaking them or sticking them into a blender. To be remotely representative of the KDJs in the real world you would have to make him so insane that he goes beyond his unhinged canon nature and straight into serial killer using cutsey talk category. It's unsustainable. KDJ is the voice of the people but the people's voices could call YJH a meow meow and make fancams of him in a fight.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 9 months
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Actually, sorry, I still don't see why TOTK is imperialistic. The imperialistic one does seem to be Ganon in his greed to conquer. I'm not saying I doubt your argumentsz just... Could you help me understand that?
Hey, yes! No problem at all. If that's okay with you, I'll compile my arguments in a series of links where I reply to previous asks.
Again, I want to reiterate that I don't think what we see in-game is secretely an imperialistic story about Rauru being a bad guy. We can speculate all we want, but there is no evidence in-world for Ganondorf to be anything other than a horrible baddie. My point is not that Ganondorf is secretely misunderstood in TotK, but that I believe Nintendo should have constructed its storytelling in a way that avoided falling into very loaded narrative patterns with real-life imperialistic echoes, and I am criticizing that they didn't try to deliver a version of Hyrule that gracefully accepted its own history, its influence over the world and its inherent moral grayness, instead of nervously scrubbing itself of substance out of fear of its own legacy.
This is the big one, that addresses the game's framing and why I think TotK's version of Hyrule parallels imperialist narrative movements.
This one talks about my problem with Rauru's character writing and what doesn't land for me.
This one is about why I don't think Nintendo is cackling about that good imperialist story they did, that it was probably accidental but still worth mentioning.
And this one, which I assume is the previous ask you sent me, adresses why I think saying that the zonais (and Sonia) are also PoC-coded kind of misses the point in my opinion.
Hope this clarifies my argument! I feel like, as the conversation matures in the fandom, this specific position (not talking for anyone else but me here) is getting kind of warped into something that it's not, or being conflated with the way people are creatively invested in the characters, which, while I certainly won't deny one obviously feeds off the other as far as I'm concerned*, are two separate things.
Again, it's completely fine to disagree! Or to agree and not be put off (everyone stop feeling guilty over the rare joy we manage to catch mid-flight --we can critique media without demanding people to Feel Bad as a result of the conclusions): it's a really fun game and I did play over a hundred hours! But I think the conversation is at least worth considering in a way that isn't caricatured as its weaker arguements.
*(to be very transparent so my own position is crystal clear, and it helps people making up their own mind: Ganondorf touches me as a character because of the way he inherently tries to fight against the limitations Hyrule/The Goddesses/the fiction itself try to force upon him --to devastating and unproductive results-- so the more his own canon tries to flatten him and the more poignant his character becomes to me. Won't deny that! It's this exact realization that made me spiral into hyperfocus to begin with --I am deeply touched by themes of tragic ambition and the impossibility of meaningful rebellion while STILL willingly burning everything down for the sake of refusing your place in the universe, even when the only thing accomplished by the end was the unflinching expression of your agency as well as General Suffering. So of course he would just catch me by the throat like that, that bastard. That being said, I don't think TotK Ganondorf (or any Ganondorf tbh) is a poor little meow meow, especially not in this game's canon where he is *obviously* nothing more than a threat to be stumped and doesn't ever meaningfully oppose you ideologically, which is kind of my problem. Even OoT Ganondorf, simplistic as he may be, questions Hyrule's inherent stability, inevitability and glory in many, many ways. Here's another, final post about why I liked the gerudos better in OoT despite All of The Problems, that partially addresses this exact point!)
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kentuckycaverats · 6 months
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👁️👁️ hey what's your fav thing you learnt about del thru playing her? what surprised you the most abt her?
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oh man......her favorite thing is to surprise me. sometimes we'll finish a session and i'll be like heyyyy del quick q, what the hell was that about? and then 2 days later it'll hit me like oh is THAT where you were coming from??? girl thats insane. i love you.
favorite thing i've learned through playing her is the way her predator type reflects her relationship to physical and emotional intimacy! she's always been a blood leech, but she's shifted from "i only feed when i cant put it off any longer, i dont enjoy it, and dont even think about feeding from me or i'll kill you" to "i dont mind feeding or feeding from my coterie, it's kinda comforting" to "tara baby please if you dont bite me right now im gonna lose my mind i want it so bad." also that she likes it when tara bosses her around in that context specifically. ok dyke
what surprised me the most about her is how forgiving she is with the people she loves. she's a professional grudge-holder with like four dozen personal vendettas, but once she cares about someone she's too devoted to stay upset with them for long. her true parents lied to her about her fae nature all her life, neville tried to mess with her memories, delores successfully did mess with her memories - and she forgave them all in relatively short order, despite "denying me who i am" and "fucking with my head" being like, THE biggest triggers for her. she loves so hard and she's so fiercely, unshakeably loyal.
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alarrylarrie · 2 years
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sibyl-of-space · 1 year
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Previews of the tracks I've composed for the demo of my visual novel, Amadeus:
I've been making a lot of progress on this game, on the visual assets and the music and the code, but the demo won't be in a publicly-ready state until this summer (that's the deadline I've given myself, and I think I can meet it if I keep at it as I have been).
But in the meantime I've really been wanting to show off just how much work I've been doing for it. So... here's a taste! These are ~30-second snippets of the 4 music tracks I've composed for the demo. All of the pieces are my original compositions. The marimba performance in "Spellbound Mischief" is by Jay Lee, and eventually "Deal With a Witch" will also feature a live clarinetist; everything else is either myself on cello or samples + synthesizers.
***The final mix for each of these pieces is still very subject to change.*** However, all of them are getting there. :)
(Amadeus is a visual novel I am solo-developing. The demo is not live yet, but when it is, it will be hosted on my itch.io: https://arcanaxix.itch.io/)
(I also put these snippets on my website: http://arcanaxix.com/Silver/#amadeus)
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austerulous · 1 year
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◈   @chronal-anomaly said:   ❛ "You know, I understand why you guys have that opinion of Omnics. They tore apart my home too. Plenty of people back home would jump at anything to beat them down. But they're not all bad. And I think the world is due for some healing, yeah?" (For des!) ❜
Fortified, Junkertown rose ruinous and ramshackle from the debris, its creaking structure casting long, jagged shadows over the sand.  Queen Odessa was built with the same hard angles and razor edges, tendons tight beneath thick-clad muscle, standing through scarred skin.  Wax-slick hands hesitated, hovering at the crest of brilliant blue hair, midway through the task of styling it.
The mirror was mottled with age spots, cracked, coated in the same corrosive dust that clung to every surface.  Silver glass offered some distance as Odessa sought the agent out on its reflective surface, crimson burning into hazel.  Lena stood back-lit by neon glare, at odds with this bleak landscape.  She with her spring-heeled gait and birdsong burbling in her voice, she with her message of compassion, of healing  
Odessa thought of her fingertips jammed into her father’s throat, trying to plug the puncture in his artery as he drowned before her eyes.  His blood had still been caked beneath her nails the day they buried him in the irradiated dunes, their huddled silhouettes sickening with the heat, suffocating with the grief.  Odessa thought of her shrouded little sister, her baby brother, and how weightless they were in death.  Sand shifted with sun and wind, and she was no longer sure she knew the way back to those make-do grave markers, to where her long-buried kin turned to leather and bone.
Theirs was a stalled, sterile generation of humankind, and they would stand against that single cohort of so-called sentient Omnics. They had come too far and lost too much to the machines.  Healing was inconceivable.  Her own death, when it came, would be one of a thousand cuts.
“It’s too late for any of that feel-good shit.  This is a war of attrition, little bird, and I intend to win.”
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justsomeguypoll · 1 year
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Listen I love Kim but he is not just some guy. There is something deeply wrong with him. He's a stone cold detective who has killed before. He encourages Harry's weird bullshit because he thinks it might be a useful tool in solving the case. He dresses like a Digimon character. You can't say he's normal just because he's balding a little.
.
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heymrspatel · 2 years
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hi, happy friday!
popping in to remind you that you are a kind, creative, talented, important part of this fandom! thank you for everything you do & share with us. thank you for your creations, thank you for your interactions, thank you for your comments & reblogs & tags. i feel so lucky to be creating alongside you & to know you--all because a couple of boy dolls happen to be in love.
what we have built here is really special & it wouldn't be the same without you 🖤
bee 😭😭😭 taking this message, bottling it up, putting a little bow on it, and dropping it right back at your doorstep!
thank you for the reminder, ya know i need it from time to time! i feel so lucky, ME! who knew that a year ago when i posted that silly ass drawing i'd be here? with you? with all of you? if i think about it too hard i WILL ACTUALLY CRY, and i'm having a pretty good one today so don't make meeee!!!
i love coming on here every day and seeing what everyone has made or their comments or their support! FUCK I LOVE SCREAMING IN TAGS WAS THAT CLEAR? HAVE YOU NOTICED?
hug and sway 💙
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vvettell · 1 year
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please tell me this means i won’t have to endure helmut marko on sky germany as well 🙏🏻🙏🏻
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marlynnofmany · 5 months
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Arboreal Species
We had plenty of options for ways to keep occupied while waiting for the client to show up and collect his delivery. Several of the crew were playing card games with the captain, using a delivery crate as a table, and she was beating the pants off all of them. (Though none of these particular aliens wore pants. You know what I mean.) Some of the others waited inside the ship, declaring boredom with this particular patch of exotic wilderness.
The rest chatted with crew from the ship that had arrived after us, which was also delivering cargo for the same late-to-arrive local. They had plenty to complain about. They also had food to share, and a decent chance that it would be edible by those they shared it with.
While Alien Food Roulette was always exciting, I’d found a much better option.
“Hey, they tell me your species climbs things,” the stranger from the other ship had said, long snout curling into a smile. She looked like a mix of 3/4 baboon and 1/4 crocodile.
“They’re right!” I replied easily. There weren’t many climbing opportunities on our little courier ship, and I was curious where this was going.
The alien pointed at a huge tree on the edge of the landing pad, which boasted smooth orange bark with branches every couple feet. “I’m gonna go climb that. Care to join me?”
“Would I ever!” I said, already heading toward it. I called back over my shoulder, “If you guys need me, I’ll be up a tree!”
Captain Sunlight didn’t even look away from the game, just waving distractedly, her scaly face intent on whatever play Mur had just made. He was chuckling about it and rubbing his tentacles together in a way that was probably a bluff. As soon as I looked away, he made a noise that said the good captain had just wrecked his clever plan. Trrili hissed with laughter.
None of them cared that I was about to climb to a dangerous height. None thought this was out of character in the slightest, and all of them were missing out on an excellent climbing experience.
It was a great tree. The bark was smooth but not slippery, reminding me of a madrone tree from back home, just without the flaky outer layer. And it didn’t feel as cold. If anything, it was warm as we scampered skyward, almost as if the tree welcomed a good climb by people who’d appreciate it.
The alien stopped, picking a branch to sit on and leaning back against another. “Now that is a nice view.”
I had to agree. “It is!” I found my own convenient pair of branches, draping my arms over the top one and finding a nice footrest on a third. “Everybody down there doesn’t know what they’re missing.” The forest around the landing pad was bright with oranges and yellows, the kind of vivid colors that I associated with autumn, but which could have been year-round here. Rolling hills lined the horizon, with a river sparkling merrily in the distance. The only straight line was the road. It made a nice counterpoint to all the gentler natural shapes.
My new friend cupped a hand to her snout unnecessarily. “Hey, everybody down there! You should come see this view!”
To no one’s surprise, she got a chorus of “no thanks.”
I shook my head. “Such a shame. They’re missing out on all the knowledge that comes from above, too. Hey, Paint!” I yelled down to the crewmate who had just dropped a box of round things. “One rolled under the ramp, and two are over in the grass!” I pointed them out.
A distant “Thank you!” reached my ears.
The alien nodded. “Wisdom of the heights indeed. What else can we see, that those on the ground can’t?”
We spent a good few minutes pointing things out to each other and swapping stories. Apparently her people were called the Farsights, for exactly this reason.
“Oh, motion on the road!” she declared, squinting into the distance. “Looks like somebody’s in a rush to be a little less late.”
“Well that ship has launched,” I said, following her eyes. “Nice thought, though. Say, is that one car or two?”
The Farsight didn’t answer immediately, which made me worry a little. Then she said “Uh oh,” which made me worry a lot.
“Uh oh what?”
She stood up on the branch and bellowed, “INCOMING! Client’s being chased by hostile fauna!”
“Oh jeez.” Now I could see it too: something large and antlered galloping after the little surface skimmer. Both were headed straight toward our landing pad.
Chaos erupted down below as we slid off our perches and scrambled downward. The bark was still friendly-smooth.
“I think that creature eats these!” my friend said, bounding out toward the end of a branch to shake loose a bundle of round seedpod things. “I’ve seen them before!”
“Will that matter?” I asked, slowing. “It looks pretty mad!”
“Can’t hurt!”
I couldn’t argue that. There were more than a few seedpods waiting on my path down, all of which came loose with a little judicious bouncing of the branches. When I hit the ground, it was in a sea of baseball-shaped plant bits.
The rest of the crew was scrambling to move crates and dash into the ships for anything weaponlike. A handful of beefy individuals from the other crew lined up to stare the thing down as it approached, and my ship’s biggest and scariest hurried to join them. Trrili claimed a place in front with her black-and-red carapace gleaming in the sun, pincher arms spread wide. She left space for the skimmer to zip past, but only just.
I grabbed seedpods, making a basket with my shirt. “Will we need these? Is it going to stop?”
“Beats me!” said my new friend. She grabbed an armload and ran. “Let’s find out!”
I raced after. We joined the lineup just before the gigantic whatever-it-was skidded to a halt, rearing to paw the air and roar thunderously. The guy in the skimmer was trying to park behind our ship. The various scary aliens yelled back at the huge moose-rhino.
“How well can you throw?” asked my friend, not waiting for an answer. She dumped her armload and started chucking seedpods.
“Pretty well!” I didn’t bother dropping mine, just grabbing them one by one from my shirt basket and aiming for the head.
I didn’t count how many of those direct shots were me, but I’m going to say most of them. The pods burst into squishy fruit with a solid core, doing a great job of annoying the creature as well as coating it with presumably-tasty purple goo.
Its forefeet hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. It roared some more, but half-heartedly, like it was just trying to save face at this point.
My friend the Farsight had run out of seedpods, so I gave her some of mine. While our crewmates did their best threat displays, we pelted the dangerous beastie with fruit until it turned to lope in the other direction. I made sure to throw a few on the road near it, in case it felt like picking up a bite to eat on the way. It didn’t, but I did see a tongue lick out as it turned its back on us.
Belatedly, Kavlae and Eggskin skidded out of our ship with stun guns at the same time as a couple people from the other — was that a rocket launcher or a flare gun? — none of which turned out to be necessary.
“Take that and eat it!” crowed the Farsight.
“Yeah!” I agreed. “It’s probably delicious!”
“It probably is, actually,” she said as the congratulations started to pour in.
I picked up a seedpod I’d dropped and sniffed it. “Smells a bit like kumquat.”
Captain Sunlight, busy trying to coax the client out of his vehicle, yelled across the landing pad, “Don’t eat that until Eggskin runs it through the medscanner!”
“Aw, really?” I complained, perfectly in synch with my new friend.
“Yes really!” She shook her lizardy head. I couldn’t make out her muttering from here, but I could guess it was about omnivorous habits, self-preservation instincts, absurd treeclimbing species, or all of the above.
The Farsight said, “If these are safe, I’m taking some back with me.”
“Even if they’re not, the seeds would make good souvenirs,” I pointed out, pulling at the pod where it had separated. “Look how perfectly round they are.”
“Oh yeah, those are nice.”
Trrili stalked past with a haughty tilt to her antennae. “You two get along far too well.”
“Like two seeds in a pod!” the Farsight quipped.
That made me smile. “Hey, my people say that too!”
We had plenty to talk about while everybody else handled the actual delivery we were there for. Eventually Eggskin did check the thing with a medscanner. It tasted like sour kumquat. The seeds cleaned up nicely.
And most importantly, my new friend had family with a whole enclave at the next space station my ship was planning to visit. And they had a climbing structure three stories high. I couldn’t wait.
The rest of the crew thought that sounded pointless and dangerous, of course, but none of them had ancestors who danced through the tree branches, so clearly they have no taste.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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waratah-vroom · 10 months
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Eavesdropper (ln4)
This was written as a sequel to Silly Season but can be read as a standalone! warnings: sexist comments, everyone being chaotic, lando being an idiot. Pls grab a big handful of suspension of disbelief 🍿
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Tagged: yourcoach, yourfriend, georgerussell63, alex_albon Liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 901,371 others yourusername: My week off between races
yourfriend: I need a pay rise if we're going to keep getting 4am flights ↳ yourusername: you said you wanted to travel the world!
williamsracing: Drivers get together and we weren't invited? ↳ yourusername: It was a union meeting, no management xx ↳ alex_albon: williamsracing that was a joke. We love the team especially you, admin.
ynstylefiles: When are we getting a Y/n skin care routine? Come on vogue...
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Tagged: carlossainz55, yourusername, maxverstappen1 Liked by wtf1official, charles_leclerc and 948,294 others landonorris: Silly season is here
mclaren: Carlando 4 eva ❤️ ↳ williamsracing: counterpoint... ynando supremacy.
yourusername: terrible pic pls delete xx ↳ landonorris: no xx
f1driversdaily: random Max pic is sending me 😂
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Liked by daniel3.jpg, maxfewtrell and 642,284 others lando.jpg: Little bit of everything
alex_albon: Nice buildings mate ↳ lando.jpg: Thanks mate
yourusername: So aesthetically pleasing
daniel3.jpg: Lovely use of lighting. ↳ lando.jpg: Have to teach you sometime 👍
softboynorris: We're all just collectively ignoring the last slide? Cool. ↳ laaaando: Not me, I'm about to head to the train tracks. ↳ carlando4eva: I'll join
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Liked by yukitsunoda0511, charles_leclerc and 729,407 others pierregasly: Night out with the family
charles_leclerc: I missed karaoke? ↳ pierregasly: we didn't sing our song don't worry mate
danielricciardo: Gasly in his jpg era
f1driversdaily: uh Lando and Y/n?
ynsource: Lando and Y/n look very close
ynlovebot: LANDO AND Y/N CONFIRMED
francisca.cgomes: yourusername 👀 ↳ pierregasly: 😭 ↳ yourusername: francisca.cgomes ❤️ ↳ pierregasly: yourusername 😇 ↳ yourusername: pierregasly 🙄
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Liked by alex_albon, williamsracing and 1,389,503 others yourusername: Day in the life of a wannabe grid girl xx
landonorris: first pic got me 🥵🥵🥵 ↳ landonorris: side note - seeing that YOU look bad in your race suit suddenly makes me feel a lot better about myself. ↳ yourusername: was that a neg, Norris? ↳ landonorris: I'm just saying that everyone looks bad in their race suit and you look good in everything ↳ yourusername: obvs I don't look good in everything... ↳ oscarpiastri: landonorris I see you typing and I'm begging you to stop
lilymhe: Confirmed girl boss ↳ yourusername: says you 😍
lissiemackintosh: She is the moment. Liked by yourusername
carmentmmundt: And that's what I call Woman 💪 Liked by yourusername
ynstylefiles: but the purple... I need more!
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Liked by lissiemackintosh, carlossainz55 and 4,592,193 others f1: A statement from the FIA.
mclaren: Our fave couple 🧡💙
williamsracing: Come for the racing, stay for the romance 💙🧡
ynsource: Seeing williams and mclaren scrambling to come up with comments that make it look like they're completely fine their two best drivers are dating each other is hilarious
ynlovebot: Ok, but like I need a relationship timeline ↳ laaaando: babe, no. I need a 4 hour long youtube analysis of their relationship ↳ softboynorris: what are you even talking about I need a true crime style podcast series
carlando4eva: They're literally textbook friends to lovers ↳ f1newbie: wdym ↳ carlando4eva: They grew up karting together and now they're dating
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yourusername and landonorris
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Liked by estebanocon, lewishamilton and 6,580,201 others yourusername: In the words of the FIA, we'd like to formally announce our (intimate) relationship ❤️
landonorris: Can we be the first joint world champions??? ↳ yourusername: like how Katniss and Peeta won the hunger games? ↳ landonorris: exactly ↳ yourusername: nah I'm good winning by myself thanks baby ↳ landonorris: 🥺
alex_albon: How many captions did you go through? ↳ yourusername: At least 30. ↳ landonorris: alex_albon all of mine got vetoed 😒
carlossainz55: Congratulations! (also finally) Liked by yourusername and landonorris
danielricciardo: Love that the FIA hard launched before you guys did 😂 ↳ yourusername: yeah I'm not thrilled about that ↳ yourusername: also who taught you the term hard launch? ↳ heidiberger_: yourusername that'd be me. Congrats babe ❤️
pierregasly: You are welcome ❤️ ↳ yourusername: francisca.cgomes I will push him into the ocean you know I'll do it
charles_leclerc: Happy for you two ! Liked by yourusername and landonorris
georgerussell63: Out of everyone we grew up karting with I really thought it'd be Charles and Pierre who ended up together. Not dating, just platonic soulmates. ↳ yourusername: Me too. ↳ alex_albon: Me three. ↳ pierregasly: Me four. ↳ charles_leclerc: quoi ?
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read more of my writing here.
Made to order for a sweet anon for my perfume collection xx
゚。 ⋆ mags' radio: Ok guys I am obsessed with driver!reader x lando... they're kind of just as chaotic as horner!reader x lando, but I think they're a little more lowkey with their chaos and prefer to keep it professional in public, horner!reader is pure idgaf.⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。
taglist: @fulla02reads @lazybot @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @hrlzy @ghosttwit @inejghafawife @booksobsess @formulakay @1655-1485 @chonkybonky @peachiicherries @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @lilacsimps @diaa-20 @imsorare @lunnnix @ctrlyomomma @leclercdream @aces-tattooartist
(if you're not highlighted I couldn't tag you. If you'd like to be removed from the tag list please send me a message.)
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xtra7s · 3 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
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pairing: Renee Rapp x reader
Synopsis: Renee Rapp finds herself being forced to co-write with her popstar enemy, Y/N YL/N.
content: none
word count: 2500+
masterlist
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Sunlight, pale and watery, peeked through Renee's eyelids, coaxing them open. She groaned, squinting at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam, momentarily lost before memory slammed back, a tidal wave of yesterday's chaos. The sold-out show, the encore that bled into the early hours, the post-show whirlwind of sweaty hugs and hoarse thank yous.
She sat up, wincing at the way her muscles protested, stretched languidly like a sun-drenched cat. Her apartment, usually alive with the echoes of guitar strings and her own humming, was blessedly quiet. She savored the stillness, reveling in the luxury of an unscheduled morning.
Coffee first, always coffee. Slipping into a faded black tee and ripped sweatpants, Renee padded into the kitchen, the familiar ritual grounding her. The hiss of the espresso machine, the frothy gurgle of milk, all a symphony of caffeine-fueled peace. She curled up on the window seat, mug cradled in her hands, watching the city wake up beneath a veil of mist.
The day unfurled with the lazy elegance of a catnap. She strummed aimlessly on her guitar, chords bleeding into each other like watercolor paints. A melody hummed beneath her breath, hesitant at first, then soaring with newfound confidence. Words followed, tumbling out like spilled secrets, raw and vulnerable. This one, she knew, wouldn't be for the stage. This one was for her, etched in the quiet of her living room, sunlight painting gold across her notebook pages.
Mid-verse, the phone buzzed, pulling her back from the daydream landscape. It was Adam, her manager, his voice a staccato counterpoint to the slow tempo of her morning. "Hey, sleepyhead. Get that caffeine flowing, you've got a meeting in an hour."
Renee blinked the edges of her daydream blurring. "A meeting? With who?"
"Surprise," Adam purred, a mischievous glint in his voice. "Just be at the office by noon, looking fierce. Trust me, this is good."
The call ended, leaving behind a delicious cocktail of curiosity and apprehension. Adam rarely sprung surprises, preferring the well-worn path of meticulous planning. A quick peek at her calendar confirmed the blankness of the day, a testament to his clandestine maneuver. Renee, intrigued, finished her coffee with newfound urgency.
A quick shower scrubbed away the remnants of sleep and yesterday's glitter. Jeans replaced sweatpants, and a vintage band tee swapped for a sleek silk cropped tank. She threw on a leather jacket, its worn patina contrasting the delicate silver chain around her neck. A flick of mascara, a touch of rouge, and voila, Renee was ready for whatever mystery Max had cooked up.
The subway ride was a whirlwind of crumpled newspapers and hurried goodbyes. The city buzzed outside the windows, a symphony of car horns and sirens that somehow managed to be lullaby familiar. Renee tapped her foot against the worn floor, an impatient rhythm against the steady rumble of the train.
Adam's office, on the top floor of a sleek glass tower, felt as controlled as its occupant. He sat behind a minimalist desk, a tablet gleaming like a black mirror in his hands. "Well, look who graced us with her presence," he drawled, a sharkish grin lighting up his face.
"Alright, spill it," Renee demanded, settling into the plush leather chair opposite him. She took off her jacket and rested it on the chair, "Who's the mystery meeting with?"
Adam smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Ready for the real kicker, Blondie?" He reached for his tablet, tapping the screen with a flourish. "Your writing partner for these demos? None other than the one and only..."
The name that flashed on the screen froze Renee's blood. Y/N YL/N. The girl who seemed to embody everything Renee wasn't – polished, perfect, and seemingly born with a platinum record tucked behind each earlobe.
Their paths had crossed a few times – an awkward introduction at an awards show, a tense exchange at a music industry party – and each encounter had felt like navigating a minefield. Y/N’s icy smile and razor-sharp wit felt like a personal affront, a constant reminder of everything Renee felt insecure about.
The news hit her like a rogue wave. Collaborating with Y/N? Writing songs together? It was like asking a firefly to tango with a scorpion. The very idea sent shivers down her spine, a delicious blend of dread and fascination.
"You're joking, right?" Renee's voice was a tight whisper, her fingers twisting in her lap.
Adam chuckled, but there was a glint of steel in his eyes. "Nope. Word on the street is that Y/N's been looking for a songwriting partner with some... grit. Apparently, her last collaborator couldn't handle the 'diva act.'" He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him.
Renee squared her shoulders, a spark of defiance lighting in her eyes. "Challenge accepted," she declared, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's see who the real diva is when we're both spitting shit in a recording booth."
The Hollywood dream suddenly felt a lot less glamorous and a lot more like stepping into a coliseum, armed only with a guitar and a stubborn sense of self. Writing songs with Y/N was going to be hell, but maybe, just maybe, it would also be the spark that ignited something extraordinary, both on the record and within herself. 
As Adam slid a glass of champagne into her hand, the city lights outside the window seemed to wink, beckoning her towards a future both terrifying and thrilling. The Renee Rapp show was just getting started, and her first act was facing her demons, head-on and harmony-filled.
"Alright, Renee," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. "Y/N's on her way to the studio right now. Time to go meet your new best friend."
Renee swallowed hard, the champagne suddenly turning to vinegar in her stomach. "Right," she croaked, forcing a smile. "Studio. Collaboration. Teamwork."
Adam raised an eyebrow, his sharkish grin widening. "More like controlled chaos, but hey, that's where the magic happens, right?" He winked, then tossed her black leather jacket to her. "Go get 'em, tiger. Show her what Renee Rapp's made of."
The city stretched out before her, a concrete jungle pulsating with possibility and peril. Grabbing a taxi, Renee sped towards the studio, her thoughts churning like a washing machine on a spin cycle. Would Y/N be the ice queen she always appeared to be, or was there something more beneath the polished surface? Could they possibly navigate the choppy waters of songwriting together, or would their egos collide in a spectacular, public shipwreck?
The studio, nestled in the heart of Hollywood, hummed with creative energy. The air crackled with the sound of guitars being tuned, drumsticks tapping impatiently, and voices warming up scales. Renee took a deep breath, stepping into the dimly lit control room where Angela waited, her music producer, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"She's in booth two," she said, pointing towards a soundproofed glass box.
Renee nodded, her heart pounding a primal rhythm against her ribs. She pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the booth like a gladiator entering the arena. There, bathed in the soft glow of studio lights, sat Y/N YL/N.
For a moment, the world held its breath. The two rivals were locked in a silent standoff, their past encounters casting long shadows across the room. Then, a slow smile spread across Y/N's face, a smirk that was equal parts of challenge and intrigue.
"Renee Rapp," she drawled, her voice like honeyed poison. "Fancy seeing you here."
Renee met her gaze, her own smile steely and determined. "Yeah yeah, Y/N," she replied. "Let's get to work."
And so, the unlikely collaboration began. Two voices, so different yet somehow destined to intertwine, filled the studio with the raw energy of unspoken feelings and unbridled talent. The air crackled with tension, with unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Yet, as their fingers danced across guitars and their voices blended in unexpected harmonies, a spark ignited.
It was a dance on the edge of a volcano, fueled by equal parts animosity and grudging respect. They challenged each other and pushed each other to their limits, their voices soaring and crashing like waves against the rocks. 
Frustration hung heavy in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Hours had bled by, filled with discarded melodies and half-written verses, with the tantalizing promise of a song just out of reach. Renee strummed her guitar listlessly, the chords echoing the emptiness in her mind.
Y/N sat across from her, perched on a stool, her usually immaculate hair mussed, dark circles smudging the corners of her eyes. The polished veneer of her persona had peeled away, revealing the vulnerability beneath. For the first time, Renee saw her not as a rival, but as another artist struggling with the same demons.
A sudden change in Renee's strumming caught Y/N's attention. Her head snapped up, eyes locking with Renee's, who seemed unaware of the shift. Her fingers danced across the strings, weaving a melody that was both raw and captivating. Renee's lips moved silently, forming words that hung in the air like wisps of smoke.
"You say that I'm your favorite," she hummed, her voice low and husky, "With your hand between my thighs."
Y/N's breath hitched, a shiver dancing down her spine. The lyrics, raw and unapologetic, cut through the tension like a knife. This wasn't the sugary pop Y/N was known for; this was something darker, something more real.
Renee's eyes fluttered open, meeting Y/N's gaze with a newfound intensity. The air crackled with electricity, a mix of anticipation and trepidation.
"Tell me if you were gonna," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "That I would be the one you tried."
Y/N watched, hypnotized, as Renee mumbled a few more lyrics before shaking her head. The raw lyrics, sung with smoky confidence, peeled back layer after layer of the facade Renee typically projected. Y/N noticed things she'd never observed before - the flecks of gold in Renee's blue eyes that sparked with each line, the way her nose crinkled adorably when she concentrated, and the subtle curve of her jaw that spoke of hidden strength.
 The song, a shared confession, had cracked open Y/N's carefully constructed shell, revealing a tangle of emotions she'd kept buried for years. Her gaze traced the line of Renee's neck, the pulse fluttering beneath the delicate skin, and a shiver ran down Y/N's spine.
The air crackled with a charged silence. Y/N's walls, once brick and mortar, were now mere cobblestones, tumbling into disarray. She met Renee's eyes, her own unguarded and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the icy color they usually held.
"That..." Y/N's voice was a mere whisper, "That was something else, Renee."
Renee, sensing the shift, offered a tentative smile. "It was," she agreed, her voice husky.
There, in the dimly lit studio, their rivalry seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile understanding, a whispered promise of shared vulnerability. They stepped out into the dawn, the first rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. It was a new beginning, a blank canvas upon which they could paint a masterpiece of collaboration.
But as they left the studio and the magic of the music faded, Y/N's walls began to rebuild, brick by metaphorical brick. The vulnerability 
evaporated, replaced by the familiar mask of cold detachment. Her back straightened, her gaze sharpened, and a familiar smirk played on her lips.
"Alright, Renee," she drawled, her voice tinged with her usual icy edge. "Hit me up tomorrow, I'll come over and we can continue writing."
Renee blinked, startled by the sharp shift. She nodded as the warmth of their shared moment had dissolved, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. But something had changed. Renee saw a flicker of the woman beneath the ice queen, a glimpse of the vulnerability Y/N had so briefly unveiled.
The game had changed, indeed. Renee knew the road ahead would be paved with challenges, with Y/N's barbed wit and ruthless ambition a constant obstacle. But she also knew that, hidden beneath the layers of frost, there was a fire in Y/N that could be kindled. The melody they had forged together, raw and honest, was proof. And that, in itself, was a victory.
The rivalry was far from over, but now, it danced with a hint of something else, something unspoken and intriguing. Renee met Y/N's gaze, a new challenge glinting in her own eyes. 
Renee stumbled out of the studio, eyelids drooping and nerves buzzing. Sleep, usually a welcome sanctuary, seemed elusive tonight. The image of Y/N's walls rebuilding, brick by icy brick, replayed in her mind, a discordant note against the echo of their raw collaboration.
She drifted into her apartment, the silence pressing against her like a suffocating wave. The ukulele leaned against the wall, untouched, yearning for the warmth of her fingers. Instead, she gravitated towards her trusty guitar, its familiar weight grounding her in the chaos of her emotions.
Her fingers danced across the strings, returning to the notes she played in the studio, a way to translate the tangled mess in her head. The chords came hesitantly at first, a tentative whisper, then gathering momentum like a gathering storm. Her voice, raw and unfiltered, filled the quiet room, weaving a tapestry of unspoken desires and lingering questions.
"In the PM, all the pretty girls," she crooned, "They have a couple drinks, all the pretty girls."
The lyric hung in the air, heavy with both longing and self-awareness. Was it her own reflection she saw in those words, the girl in the mirror seeking solace in the fleeting comfort of company? Or was it Y/N, a glimpse beneath the polished surface, a yearning for something just beyond her reach?
"So now, they wanna kiss all the pretty girls," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "They got to have a taste of a pretty girl."
The melody soared, achingly beautiful, and laced with a bittersweet truth. The game they played, the unspoken tension between them, was it just a desperate grasp for connection in a world of curated personas? Or was there something more, something simmering beneath the veneer of rivalry?
She strummed the final chord, letting the silence settle like a soft snowfall. The lyrics etched onto the page in messy scrawl, seemed to hold the answer to a question she hadn't even dared to ask. Tonight, the lines between artist and subject had blurred, Renee revealing not just melodies but a sliver of her own soul.
With a heavy sigh, she slipped into bed, the image of Y/N's eyes, both guarded and curious, dancing behind her eyelids. Sleep, at last, brought its welcome embrace, but within its depths, another song was stirring, waiting to be born. In the morning, with the city streets shimmering beneath the sunrise, Renee knew the game had just begun. 
The melodies they created, confessions hidden in plain sight, would be their currency, their battle cries, their whispered promises. Whether it led to harmony or heartbreak, one thing was certain: the world they were about to create, together, would be unlike anything anyone had ever heard.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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I keep seeing 'discourse' on the moving picture apps about how if you were around for the first iteration of whimsigoth in the early 2000s, you're too old to participate in the fashion trends now.
And like, obvious ridiculousness aside (cringe is dead, time is an illusion, wear whatever), I raise this counterpoint:
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ID: an image of Aunt Frances and Aunt Jet from Practical Magic wearing large hats, lace gloves and an amalgamation of whimsical attire. /end ID.
Thank you, and good night.
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suffersinfandom · 5 months
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Alright, I’m gonna talk about Ed and abuse.
“Why, V? Why are you spending your precious time on Earth typing about some dumb fandom stuff when you could be doing literally anything else?”
In short, seeing all of these “Ed is an abuser who’s inevitably going to hurt Stede” takes have been driving me absolutely bonkers since I first noticed them. They’re not going away, so I’m going to bang out an essay. 
In less-short: it’s because abuse is a serious thing and, as someone who’s experienced it, I get a little feisty when it becomes a topic of discourse in my silly pirate fandom. It’s because it’s upsetting to read meta after meta accusing an indigenous man of being an abuser. It’s because a lot of the abuse discourse in the fandom fails to separate real-life abuse from violence in a show. It’s because the vast majority of the abuse talk only acknowledges physical abuse which, while terrible, is not the only kind that hurts people and utterly destroys their lives. 
It’s because calling Ed abusive or insisting that he’s a future abuser can harm people who are like him -- people who have suffered abuse or get angry sometimes or have hurt people when they were hurt. Victims of abuse, especially those who dealt with it in childhood, often fear becoming abusers themselves. They bottle up their anger for fear of hurting someone. They hurt themselves in a misguided attempt to protect others. They don’t need to see fandom meta that enforces their fears.
And it’s because, frankly, I am unemployed and I promise I’ll stop if you give me a transcription or copyediting job, please and thank you.
Before I get into it…
I may as well come clean and say that I’m on team Ed absolutely isn’t abusive and it’s weird that people are getting that from a show that’s full of violence. 
Plenty has been typed in Ed’s defense by POC in the fandom, so I’m not going to go into how deeply unfortunate it would be to make an indigenous main character an abuser. I’m just going to say that, when you consider OFMD’s genre and attitude towards violence, it seems clear to me that you can’t call Ed abusive without calling out other characters (unless you have some kind of bias against Ed). His actions are deplorable in the real world, a bit much in OFMD’s world, deeply unhealthy, not okay by any means, and shitty and traumatizing for his crew, but they aren’t abusive.
I’m going to try to keep things polite and respectful. I’m also going to try to stick close to what the text is trying to say; I truly do want to present an honest, earnest analysis of something that I love. 
The arguments in favor of Ed as an abuser.
We can’t defend an idea without knowing what we’re arguing against (with brief counterpoints that I hope to expand on later). For this section (lol, sections, that feels pretentious and weird and I’m sorry), I’ll be lightly rephrasing things and omitting sources.
“Ed has anger management issues that disqualify him from being a romantic lead.”
Counterpoint: Ed does not have anger management issues. (Even if he did, I can think of a few very successful franchises with shitty and violent romantic leads. Ew.) He gets angry sometimes, as we all do.
“I defended Ed making Izzy eat his toe because that was a single instance and abuse is a pattern. Season two made it an explicit pattern.”
Counterpoint: First, feeding people their toes isn’t a biggie in this universe. Second, Ed fed Izzy that initial toe because he stepped out of line and demanded Blackbeard; it’s likely that additional toes were the victims of Izzy not being obedient. (I’m not saying this is right or that it’s cool to feed people body parts when they disobey, btw. I hope that doesn’t need to be said.)
“The first two episodes of season two set up the cycle of abuse so well, but the show never follows through. It doesn’t even acknowledge that it set up that storyline. If they’d wanted to end the season on a happy note without spending a lot of time fixing Ed’s relationship with the crew, they could have just made Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes less dark and abusive.”
Counterpoint: Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes isn’t abusive. It’s a bit over the top and it hurts people, yeah, but Ed’s definitely not following in his abusive father’s footsteps and systematically abusing his crew.
“Season two gives us straight up abuse. It gives us Stede, still soft around the edges, being deliberately headbutted during their reunion.”
Counterpoint: There is no abuse between Ed and Stede. The headbutt was not a case of a violent person intentionally hitting their passive partner; it was a confused, unwell, and nonverbal man reacting to the presence of someone who hurt him. Also? Stede has no problem setting boundaries or speaking out. Good for him!
“As bad as the season finale was, I’m glad the crew’s safe from Ed. Now that Izzy isn’t there to protect them, any little trigger could set Ed off and lead to him hurting them. Stede, though… Stede’s stuck with Ed and the corpse of Ed’s last victim, and it’s only a matter of time before Ed destroys him too.”
Counterpoint: This take is so far removed from the text of the show that I don’t know how to address it quickly, but here we go: Ed is not a threat to the crew after episode two, Izzy did not protect the crew from Ed’s moods, Ed does not have a hair-trigger temper, Izzy is not Ed’s victim, and -- vitally -- Stede is in absolutely no danger. Ed is not destined to be an abusive partner in season three.
And an overriding counterpoint to everything is this: Our Flag Means Death is a comedy with tons of over-the-top violence. If your theory is unrelentingly grim or looks at violence and its consequences in a real-world light, consider stepping back and remembering what genre the events of the show are happening in. If you think that only the violence committed by the indigenous lead is abuse, look at the actions of the other characters and ask yourself why Ed doesn’t get the same grace you’ve granted the others.
With that quick and dirty rundown of the arguments I’ve seen, let’s move on to the next important step in building an argument: definitions.
What is abuse in the real world?
In the real world, abuse is extremely serious and not something to be taken lightly. But what is abuse? We can’t say much about it in any world without knowing what it is in ours, so here’s a simple explanation:
Abuse “includes [a pattern of] behaviors that physically harm, intimidate, manipulate, or control a partner or otherwise force them to behave in ways they don’t want to. This can happen through physical violence, threats, emotional abuse, or financial control.” (1)
“Emotional abuse includes non-physical behaviors that are meant to control, isolate, or frighten someone. These behaviors are often more subtle and hard to identify but are just as serious as other types of abuse.” (2)
It’s important to emphasize that not all purposeful harm to another person, physical or otherwise, is abuse. “What abuse really means is control. When a truly abusive situation exists, it’s because one party is seeking to control the other through abuse.” (2)
To summarize, abuse is a pattern of behavior that involves one person intentionally harming another. That harm is meant to control, and it can take on more forms than just physical. 
That said, I’m mostly concerned with physical abuse here, as that’s the only kind that I’ve ever seen discussed in relation to Ed. Going into mental and emotional abuse will involve talking more about a specific non-Ed character and I don’t want to go there. Possibly ever.
In our world, all abuse is terrible. Vitally, our world -- and this is very important, so underline it twice if you’re taking notes -- does not operate by the rules of a pirate rom-com.
Okay, so what is abuse in the silly pirate world of Our Flag Means Death?
First, we have to understand what the show is. @piratecaptainscaptainpirates lays it out nicely:
“1. This is a rom-com.The central romance between Ed and Stede and comedy are therefore the two most core parts of the show, with Ed and Stede's romance taking priority over everything else. That's not to say OFMD doesn't have dark themes, it absolutely does; it's to say that comedy is always important to how the show is written, acted, and filmed.
“2. This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.” (3)
Did you jot that down? Our Flag Means Death is a romantic comedy with one core romantic couple, Ed and Stede, whose story takes priority over everything else. It can be dark, it can be serious, but it is, at its core, a comedy, and not a subtle one at that.
Some things are just funny and that’s it.
As a rule, the most obvious reading is going to be the one to go with. The show’s meanings aren’t hidden under layers of red herrings and subtext; if you’re compelled to bring out the conspiracy corkboard, you’re probably in too deep.
But this isn’t just a rom-com: it’s a pirate rom-com, and that comes with gratuitous violence. Here’s a short, fun list of examples of things that we can consider canon-typical pirate violence:
Tying hostages to the mast and letting them cook a bit
Wanton murder during a raid (“Note the gusto!”)
Pirate A threatening his crush at gunpoint until Pirate B gutstabs him
Whippies and yardies
Cutting off toes and feeding them to people “for a laugh”
Pirates who are madly in love stabbing and poisoning each other
Literally any violence directed at a racist (this violence is, in fact, good and encouraged)
There’s also the pirate-typical killing of other pirates. Duels don’t seem entirely unusual, and Izzy outright tries to get Stede killed at several points in season one. When Chauncey Badminton and the English navy show up after being summoned by Izzy, Stede’s life isn’t the only one on the line; the rest of the crew is also put in potentially life-threatening danger. Izzy is forgiven, so I think it’s safe to say that attempted murder is the kind of thing that pirates typically move on from. Eventually. If the attempted murderer is pathetic enough.
In short, Our Flag Means Death has a lot of violence, and very few instances of violence (looking at you, Hornigold) are treated as anything other than socially acceptable. But do you know what’s really important in the show?
Feelings.
The way characters feel as a result of something is given an immense amount of weight. All of the show’s subtleties are in the realms of the mental and the emotional, and that’s where the real pain is too. 
Nigel Badminton’s death was bad because it was emotionally and mentally devastating for Stede. Ed’s father’s murder was bad because it hurt him and forced him to create a monstrous alter ego to cope. Both of those men -- Nigel and Father Teach -- are totally acceptable casualties; their deaths would be net positives if they hadn’t had such strong impacts on our leads.
Feelings are everything in Our Flag Means Death, and the feelings of our leads are the heart of the show. That’s where the story is; that’s where the complexity and ambiguity is. 
So what is abuse in this context? The casual treatment of physical violence and the seriousness of emotional distress tell us to adjust our own moral judgments accordingly. Physical violence is everyday, straightforward, and often comedic; emotional violence is devastating and complicated. Physical violence is cartoonish and, half the time, part of a punchline. Emotional violence is real and raw and not a joking matter. Attempted murder can be shrugged off; ditching your boyfriend after experiencing a traumatic event is more complicated.
When we ask ourselves if something in OFMD is abuse, we have to consider the act in the context of a rom-com that’s all about the feelings of two guys, set against the violent backdrop of piracy, and absolutely packed with people getting maimed and murdered in casual, comedic ways. 
Awesome! Now we’re a little clearer about definitions and genre and how we should adjust our expectations! Unfortunately, we haven’t jumped into the real meat of whatever the hell this essay is…
Is Ed abusive in the context of the show?
No.
Aaaand we’re done!
Joking, joking. Obviously I’m going to pick out the examples of “abuse” that people cite and discuss each one, but first: we need to talk about Ed, violence, and anger. 
Ed is not a violent person. He’s not full of rage that’s threatening to erupt at all times, and he’s not some kind of sadist that revels in hurting people. The violence of Blackbeard is a fuckery: the theater of fear, an illusion of cruelty calculated to terrify enemies into surrendering. 
Ed has his whole thing with murder that's rooted in childhood trauma. Killing his (canonically, decidedly) abusive father to protect his mother scars him so badly that he distances himself from the situation -- blames Father Teach’s death on the Kraken -- and can’t bring himself to directly kill anyone else after that. Blackbeard orders murders and causes deaths and maims and maintains his image as a bloodthirsty murderer, but Ed doesn’t do “the big job” himself until the end of season two. When Stede’s life is in the balance, Ed can kill to protect him. 
Edward Teach kills only to protect.
But that’s killing, and we’re talking about general violence. Ed is casual about the day-to-day violence of piracy. He participates in it, incites it, and doesn’t feel bad about it. No one does! It’s part of the job! 
That leaves us with the "anger problem." Ed is frequently characterized as an angry person who lashes out when enraged, and I don’t think that canon at all supports this interpretation. Ed gets mad, yes, but his anger is always at least understandable. It isn’t a constant, simmering thing that turns him into an abusive monster when he’s triggered. He doesn't always deal with his anger (or any of his other feelings) in a good and constructive way because both of our leads lack emotional maturity, but I think it's a mistake to characterize him as an angry person.
Hopefully I can elaborate on this idea -- the idea that Ed is only violent and angry in a normal and canon-appropriate way, and anger is by no means one of his defining characteristics -- by doing a run-down of all of the times Ed is accused of being abusive or showing signs of being an abuser.
Sooooo...
Ed loses his shit on a falling snake during his nature adventure with Stede (S1E7). In this scene, he’s embarrassed about the whole treasure hunt thing and annoyed by the very existence of nature. He is not relaxed. When nature takes him by surprise by falling on him, he stabs the crap out of it in a scene that is played for comedy. There’s the important part: this is comedy. Ed is grumpy and his childish tantrum is harmless and silly. It isn’t a red flag. Overreacting while irritated isn’t an indicator that someone will be abusive.
Ed punches Izzy after the English have taken the Revenge, captured Stede, and turned Ed over to Izzy (S1E9). Honestly, I think the fact that Ed lets Izzy talk before punching him demonstrates a great deal of restraint on his part! This is justified anger and fear for Stede’s life. This also isn’t some sign that Ed hits Izzy on the regular.
In his post-pillow fort era, Ed is cleaning up his cabin when that one highly contentious Izzy scene happens (S1E10). Izzy insults Ed, tells him that he’d be better off dead than as he currently is, and says that he serves only Blackbeard (Ed better watch his fucking step). Ed reacts by grabbing Izzy by the throat and telling him to choose his next words carefully. This, in my opinion, is a valid way for a pirate captain to react to insubordination. At the very least, it doesn't tell us that Ed is Izzy's abuser; there's no indication that this isn't a one-off provocation and reaction.
Which takes us to The Toe Scene.
In real life, it would be extremely fucked up for a boss to remove an employee’s toe and make him eat it. OFMD is not real life. One episode earlier, Ed was talking about the life he was glad to leave behind -- the life where The Toe Thing was done “for a laugh.” Not as punishment, but for fun. It’s set up as something that’s gross (“yuck”), not a grave punishment. When Ed feeds Izzy his toe, he gives Izzy what be asked for: he gives him a violent captain. He gives him Blackbeard. He gives him the guy who fed people toes for fun.
But what’s important here is that Ed is not having fun. He’s having a hell of a lot less fun than Izzy is, going by their expressions in the scene. This isn’t who he wants to be, but after having the possibility of a better life snatched away, Ed throws himself back into the sure thing. He becomes the Kraken -- the captain Izzy wants, the violent monster that Ed thinks he is and tries to distance himself from, and the only thing Ed thinks he can be. It’s sad. It’s desperation, not anger and abuse.
In the second season, Ed headbutts Stede after he’s revived from his coma/death (S2E4). In the next scene, Stede is holding a cold steak to his face and calling it an accident. Roach says “that’s what they all say” -- a line that alludes to domestic violence. The thing is? It’s not, and the crew has expectations of Ed that Stede doesn’t.
Ed is freshly out of a coma (or newly alive). He’s nonverbal. His brain is, medically speaking, couscous. He still has one foot in the gravy basket. When he sees the man who left him hovering over him -- the man he loves, the man who just appeared to him as a mermaid -- he tries to say something then, when that fails, resorts to a headbutt. This is a single violent action perpetrated by a confused and hurt man who doesn’t know what to do with all of his feelings. He can't talk. He can't push Stede away.
Stede understands all of this, even if the other characters don’t. He sees the headbutt for what it is: a bit of a bitchy move. He isn’t afraid of Ed. He never is. 
Stede also isn’t afraid of Ed when he acts out later that episode (S2E4). When Ed learns that Stede went back to Mary, he excuses himself from the dinner table, smashes a chair against the wall, and knocks a vase to the ground. In this entire episode (this entire season, tbh), Ed is having intense feelings that he doesn’t know how to express or work through; the reveal that Stede returned to his wife is the final straw. He takes his tangled feelings out on an acceptable target (a chair, a vase) instead of Stede because he doesn’t want to hurt Stede.
This looks a little like displacement -- when “an unacceptable feeling or thought about a person, place or thing is redirected towards a safer target.” Displacement is an “intermediate level coping mechanism.” That is, it’s more sophisticated than the ways children deal with intense issues, but it’s still not entirely mature. In an adult, it indicates a level of emotional immaturity. (4) Ed is emotionally immature, not inherently violent. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings and lashes out -- not at a person, but at something that can’t get hurt. 
Displacement is not an indicator that someone is an abuser. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s an attempt at emotional regulation. It’s not the best coping mechanism, but it’s definitely not a sign that someone is going to go into a rage and assault people.
Stede cringes when Ed smashes the chair and sends the vase crashing to the ground, but he’s not afraid of Ed. He is never afraid of Ed because he knows that Ed isn’t a real threat to him. He cringes because sometimes that's what a person does when a loud thing happens. That's what people do when chair shrapnel starts flying. Also? It's kind of embarrassing behavior on Ed's part. They're guests enjoying a mediocre dinner! That's no way to act!
And this leaves us with the first two episodes of season two, which are an absolute mess.
Ed is fully in his Kraken era. He has no hope that Stede will return, he no longer trusts the crew, and he feels trapped in a life he absolutely doesn’t want. He thinks that he has to perform Blackbeard until death sets him free. He sobs in his cabin when no one’s looking. Publicly, Ed fades into the role of remorseless and bloodthirsty pirate captain.
Needless to say, this makes for a shit work environment. Ed works the crew too hard. He drinks and does drugs and runs everyone ragged. He’s an absolutely terrible boss, but he isn’t abusive.
That isn’t to say that the crew left on the Revenge isn’t traumatized. They are! They’ve been thrown off balance by the sudden change for the worse in someone who was their friend, and they’re traumatized by the neverending violence that the constant raids -- raids that were bloody and deadly, not the fuckeries of the past -- demanded of them. They’re traumatized by that final night in the storm when Ed did everything in his power to goad them into killing him, almost murdering everyone in the process. They’re traumatized by their own attempt at murder.
In S2E4, Blackbeard’s crew has flashbacks to the violence they perpetrated under the Kraken: Jim fighting Archie, Fang breaking a man over his knee. They’re also haunted by guilt about what they did to Ed, as evidenced by their Lady Macbeth-style scrubbing. Their own violence is a significant part of their trauma in this episode.
No, that doesn’t absolve Ed. He drove the violence -- demanded it of both the crew and himself. He hurt other people because he was hurting, and that’s terrible. 
Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes of season two is horrible, but he’s not abusive. Not all bad or violent behavior is abuse.
(We also have to ask ourselves just how bad Ed’s behavior really is. Archie, someone from the pirate world who has no idea what the Revenge was like pre-Kraken, tells Jim “that’s how these things usually go” at the height of Ed’s violence. She doesn’t act like she experienced anything out of the ordinary which is, if I may be honest, kind of worrying. But ultimately, whether or not Ed’s actions when he was at his worst are normal for pirates doesn’t matter a ton here.) 
But what about Izzy, I’m sure you’re asking!
What about Izzy indeed. Ugh. Okay, let’s just… let’s walk through the first two episodes.
One of the first things we see Ed do in season two is shoot a man. At first this seems like the show telling us that Ed is embracing the kind of violence he couldn’t manage before, but if we pay attention, we can see that he’s still following his “not a murderer on a technicality” logic. The man he shoots has a sword through his chest; he's as good as dead. He also falls offscreen before Ed shoots, making the action less impactful.
OFMD is not subtle and this is a quick way to communicate what’s going on with Ed. He’s not doing well and he’s more violent than he was last season, but he’s still himself under the Kraken’s makeup. He hasn’t done a moral one-eighty. If the show wanted us to think that Ed's a monster, they would have made him a hell of a lot more violent.
So. Izzy.
Immediately after Ed tells Izzy that he’s replaceable in S2E1, we reach the scene that people point to and say, “That’s domestic violence!” This is where Izzy breaks down because he has just been told in no uncertain terms that he’s not Blackbeard’s special little guy. That’s devastating to him, and he cries when the crew shows him kindness. 
Jim tells Izzy he’s in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard; Frenchie describes their relationship as “toxic.” 
A toxic relationship is “any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness." (5) And you know what? Yeah, Ed and Izzy definitely have a toxic relationship. Well-sussed, Frenchie! And is their relationship unhealthy? It sure is -- for both of them! But the crew is, understandably, more sympathetic towards Izzy because they’ve never been present when Izzy was hurting Ed. 
(Only tangentially related, but the crew must have really liked Ed pre-Kraken. As far as they know, the man went dark with no warning or cause. They deal with his bullshit for approximately three months (assuming one raid a day), and he has to go so far before they put an end to him. Remember when they were ready to toss Izzy overboard after, like, twelve hours under his command?)
Even though they only have one side of the Izzy and Ed story, the crew isn’t accusing Ed of domestic abuse. The term doesn’t apply to the mutually fucked-up thing that Izzy and Ed have and, beyond that, the scene is played for laughs. Jim and Frenchie use comically modern language; the whole thing feels like an intervention for a stressed-out middle manager with a shitty boss. It's funny. It's a comical thing in a comedy show.
Moving on.
Izzy returns to Ed and tells him that the crew won’t throw treasure overboard to make room for more treasure. Ed says, “And that’s another toe.” Losing a toe is the penalty for failing the captain.
Which is more likely: that Ed cut off Izzy’s other toes on a cruel whim, or that Ed cut off Izzy’s toes after other perceived failures? I’m going for option two. It’s obviously not okay to punish an underling by taking toes, but we’ve already established that toe-removal isn’t a cruel and unusual pirate punishment. It’s done “for a laugh.” 
(Specifically, toe-chopping is the cost of Izzy’s failure. Frenchie disobeys and lies to Ed in his short time as first mate and he doesn’t lose a single toe. Izzy bears the brunt of Ed’s cruelty because he’s the one who demanded it.) 
This is not who Ed wants to be, but it’s who he thinks he has to be. It’s who Izzy told him to be.
Izzy makes the mistake of invoking Stede and Ed storms above deck. He holds the crew at gunpoint, one by one, and asks them if they think that the vibes on the ship are poisonous. No one gives him a positive answer and Ed turns the gun on himself. He works himself up until Izzy interrupts and the following exchange happens:
IZZY: “The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why.” ED: “Well, I don’t. Enlighten me.” IZZY: “Your feelings for Stede fucking Bo--”
 [Ed shoots Izzy in the leg. Ed steps over him on his way back to his cabin.]
ED: “Throw this shit overboard and get suited up.”
I don’t want to go into speculation about the true cause of the fucked up vibe on the Revenge (it’s clearly not just Ed’s feelings for Stede) or why, exactly, Ed shot Izzy. What’s important for this post is this: Ed's actions are not unusually cruel for a pirate captain who considers his first mate out of line. This is the kind of thing that the idea of Blackbeard that Izzy worships does to maintain his reputation.
Fang cries when Ed shoots Izzy because he knows Blackbeard. He has been with Blackbeard longer than anyone else, and this isn’t Blackbeard. Blackbeard doesn’t work his crew this hard. Blackbeard doesn’t disregard the deaths of long-time crewmates like Ivan. Blackbeard doesn’t shoot his own crew. Fang is off-balance and distraught because his captain of twenty years is acting far, far more cruel than the Blackbeard he knew.
This is not Ed as he usually is. Ed at his worst is breaking all of his past patterns. He’s behaving like a different person. His actions at this point in time are not typical of his past actions or predicative of his future actions.
When we reach S2E2, Ed is chipper. He’s cleaning up, he’s tying up loose ends, and he has decided that, no matter what, this is the day that he dies. He’s determined. First, he’ll give Izzy a crack at killing him; next is the storm, the destruction of the steering wheel, and taking increasingly desperate actions to get the crew to stop him. He tells Jim and Archie to fight to the death. He goes to blow the mast away with a cannon and doesn’t react as nameless crew members are being washed overboard. 
Ed is stopped only by Izzy’s reappearance and the violent mutiny that follows.
None of what Ed does here is abuse. This is desperate violence. This is an unwell man begging everyone around him to send him to doggy heaven.
And finally, we have the big murder party in the season finale. A surprising number of fans interpret Ed’s willingness to cut down naval officers as a sure sign that he’s gotten worse and he’s more violent than ever. This is, in my opinion, a take that completely ignores everything we know about Ed and his relationship to violence.
I said it before, but it bears repeating: Edward Teach kills only to protect. He murdered his father to protect his mother. He mows down colonists for Stede. He kills for love, and by the end of season two, he has made some kind of peace with the Kraken and his own capacity for violence.
It’s sweet. Like, it wouldn’t be sweet in the real world, but in this world? In a world where physical violence is funny more often than it’s serious? In a world full of pirate characters who all have hefty body counts? It’s growth. It’s Ed healing.
Ed is doing better. He’s not a threat to the man he loves, and now he’s not a threat to himself either.
Anyway!
No, Ed is not abusive. No, there’s no indication that Ed will become abusive in the future.
“Okay, but many abuse survivors take issue with the irresponsible message that Jenkins is subtextually sending with Ed’s story!”
That’s fine. Take issue with things. Feel whatever you want to feel, but remember that abuse survivors are not a monolith. Consider, just for a moment, that the abuse you think you see in the show is not textual. Ask yourself if Ed is truly worse than all of the other characters or if you have some bias warping your view of him. 
Finally: please keep in mind that I’m not trying to present The One True Interpretation. I’m just rolling all of my arguments and thoughts into one big ol' ball and throwing it out into the wild. You don’t have to agree with me but, if you don’t, I hope you’ll at least have a bit of a think.
If you read this and liked it, please consider validating me with a like! If you read it and didn’t like it, I’m sorry for wasting your time. If you skimmed the first part and decided to dismiss me as soon as I said I don’t think that Ed is abusive… idk, peace and love and goodbye.
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sibyl-of-space · 1 year
Audio
who wants to hear more weird kinda bad bullshit. this 20th century harmony class is interesting because it is forcing me to write in styles that i don’t like, and i am learning from the experiences even if i don’t like them.
(and then of course once i finished the harmonization i spent ~15 minutes on the world’s laziest DAW session. just throwing some synths and drum loops on it for shiggles)
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writingoddess1125 · 4 months
Text
Admist the Rain
Fluff - Just a quick fic
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GNReader
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Simon's eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching from the remnants of a nightmare that still clung to him, the smell of gunpowder and blood fresh in his mind. The soft patter of raindrops against the window accompanied the lingering unease as it reminded him of the gunfire of war.
Rubbing his forehead to take away the sweat he groaned softly to himself- even when away on leave the horrors of the field followed him. A warm bed, the soft snores of you and the dog, far away from any battlefield yet here he was- awake and wired for a fight.
He glanced to the side of the bed seeing Riley asleep on the floor next to him, most likely ready to defend him and you at a moments notice. He traced his free hand to the side of his mattress feeling the gun case and knife tucked safely in- next to the cold mask he slipped there, a reminder that Ghost was always there and ready to make an appearance if anything unsavory was to take place.
Finally he turned to face to his side to make sure you where still asleep and safe, bathed in the muted glow of the moon diffused through rain-kissed curtains, he marveled at the peaceful sanctuary you provided. Greatful his nightmare hadn't woken you up from your sleep.
'Perfect... Everything is where is should be'
His mind now at ease as he sighed in relief. Carefully, he extended his arms, cocooning you in a comforting embrace, a refuge from the horrors within. The warmth of your body served as a counterpoint to the cool touch of night, the nasty storm seemingly still surrounding him and shaking the flat like a earthquake.
"Nasty storm..." He muttered.
Simon pressed a delicate kiss on your forehead, his lips conveying a silent gratitude for the tranquility you brought into his life as a mutter of a prayer to no one ghosted his lips.
"Thank God I have you..." he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that danced with the rhythmic drumming of raindrops. Nuzzling against you, he inhaled the familiar scent of your shampooed hair, finding solace in its delicate fragrance.
"Even without realaizing it you keep me sane- Like you make the storms go away" he confessed, the words a soft declaration against the crash of thunder that shook the flat, Simon wincing ever so slightly and pulling you tighter to his chest as if he could shield you away from a danger.
"..I love you"
He smirked at his own actions, Hearing the storm start to pass above the flat and the thunder getting farther away. He felt at ease now- cuddling you closer as he soaked in your scent and relishing in the sound of your gentle snores. Simon eyes beginning to grow heavy as he fell back asleep-
After a few moments you cracked open your eye and smiled softly as you laid there. The night was clear and no storms shook your flat that night- But you knew to him it did.
"I love you too Si.. The storm is gone.."
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