#this isn’t even a real complaint for the record it’s just the mix of hearing abt his sex life plus all of the gay boys in our department | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shes-coming-clean · 3 years

Text

Green Day Documentary Reviews Pt 2

The last one of these seemed to make people happy, and because my brain refuses to think about anything but this band right now, might as well do something productive with that. So here is part 2!

Today’s doc: Green Day: Born To Be (2016)

I decided to get this one over with because I didn’t remember liking it the first time, and wow, it’s even worse than I remember. So this review is going to be a lot more negative overall because oof this one pisses me off. Honestly, one of its strongest qualities is that its only 24 minutes, so at least you don’t have to suffer too long.

Pros

* It focuses on their lives from childhood up through American Idiot and includes a decent amount of detail.

* They don’t have any present day interviews recorded specifically for this documentary, which means they have to get really creative piecing old interviews together to tell a coherent story. And they do that well...about half the time (more on that later)

* There are Portuguese subtitles so that’s nice. We love accessibility in this house

* There is a mention of Two Dollar Bill! Love to see it. Unfortunately, they get the nickname wrong and call him Two Dollar Billie (How do you miss the play on words there?) but still, it’s a nice detail to include

* They actually discuss Billie and Mike’s childhoods in some detail. Tré does not get the same treatment but A for effort - 2 out of 3 aint bad.

And that’s it for pros. On to the cons. We’ll focus on the nitpicky stuff first

* This video only has audio in one ear if you’re using headphones, which is kinda unusual for this channel, so I wonder if there was some kind of mistake uploading it.

* They only seem to have footage from the Dookie era and onward so when they talk about stuff before that, they either use a mix of a couple of old photos of the band, generic stock footage, or more modern video clips. I understand that you have to work with what you have, but this is kind of distracting when you’re hearing the narrator talk about their informal audition for Lookout Records, but you’re hearing and seeing the Good Riddance music video. Like, I’d give it a pass if the song at least commented on or shared an emotion with that part of the story but it just feels random. They really don’t seem to have put too much thought into when they use certain clips, so the performances on screen aren’t always from the time period they’re taking about - even later on in the story. This, and the lack of a clear structure can make it hard to tell what year/era they’re talking about at any given moment.

* They have to rely on past interviews to do a lot of the story telling, but once again, they don’t always care too much about time period and will clip sections out of context. For example, they take a clip of Billie from roughly ‘95 talking about how the last few years have been crazy, and make it about their career downturn in the early 2000s, even though you can CLEARLY see he’s younger than in the other clips.

* There is a narrator who fills in the parts of the story not conveyed in clips which is a good choice...except that he’s really annoying. I can’t tell if it’s his voice or the script he’s been given, but either way, it’s not great.

* The narrator says that all three band members divorced or separated from their wives in the late 90s/early 2000s, except...that didn’t happen. Billie and Adrienne had a rough point, sure, but they didn’t separate or divorce.

So far, most of my critiques have not been massive. I still probably could’ve enjoyed a doc at least a bit even if it had those problems, a lot of which seem to be due to a lack of resources and having to make do with what they had. I can understand that. The same does not hold true for this next part, which is, how they framed the band’s jump to a major label and the years that followed.

Every band, actor, or public figure of any kind will usually have some kind of signature question or complaint that everyone either levies against them or debates. Green Day’s is basically “are they real punks or are they sellouts?” At this point, I think this question is pretty stupid and I have a lot of problems with the mindset behind it (I think it has a lot to do with classism and sexism, but that’s for another time), but it’s part of the band’s public persona at this point, so any documentary has to at least touch on it. Most docs tend to frame the backlash against the band after they sighed with Reprise as the petty complaints of jealous gatekeepers who were pissed that the band was inviting normies into their punk club. Basically, there was nothing Green Day could’ve done about it - it was going to happen either way.

But this doc takes it for granted that Green Day absolutely sold out, and not just that, they fundamentally changed and stopped being punk. Which, like, are we listening to the same album? The only real difference between Kerplunk (released before they signed with a major label) and Dookie (their major label debut) is that the second had an actual budget. The sound and subject matter is very very similar. They were never super “hard core” to begin with - in fact, it was their catchy melodies that made them stand out. Nothing in their style changed. Honestly, I would argue that Dookie has a lot more songs about being angry and punk than Kerplunk does. The only difference is its higher production quality. So, when this doc says things like they “lost their hard fought identity” I honestly don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. And this isn’t just me being a fan. The doc says they changed, it says they stopped being punk, but it doesn’t offer any evidence to substantiate that claim. We’re just supposed to hear the ominous music and the out-of-context clips (which were mostly self-deprecating jokes) and believe it.

When they do provide details, most of them are wrong, or at very least, misleading. For example, they claim that the backlash only happened after the band released the second and third singles off of Dookie, “Basket Case” and “When I Come Around” respectively. It claims that the first single, “Longview” was punk enough to make fans happy while the other songs weren’t, which...ok - I just don’t think you can claim “Longview” is any more punk than the other songs. Honestly, it’s kind of a departure from their normal sound into a more jazzy style. I don’t think you can argue that it’s any more punk than “Basket Case” unless you’re claiming that singing about masturbation makes something inherently punk. Like, what are we even defining as “punk” at this point? Also, the backlash started long LONG before any song off the album had ever been released. It started as soon as they signed with Reprise, so claiming it was because people didn’t like the music is just dishonest.

Overall, I really feel like this doc has a very strange tone, especially for a piece of media supposedly promoting their newest album (Revolution Radio). It pays lip service to how great and accomplished the band is, but takes every opportunity to trash them. Because it goes so hard on the “they sold out” narrative, it implies that the success of American Idiot is just because they got lucky that people liked the product of their lack of artistic integrity. I am more than ok with criticizing a band - even one I like, and I don’t mind when a doc does try to do more than just praise Green Day, but those criticisms have to be backed up. And the whole question of “selling out” is just so so stupid at this point. This doc came out in 2016 - was the most pressing issue that year really whether or not a band stopped being punk 25 years ago?

So, thanks for coming to my ted talk. I hope you liked it and if there’s any other Green Day docs you want me to review next, please let me know. These have been a lot of fun to write and I’m so happy that people seem to like it.

youtube

#green day #billie joe armstrong #mike dirnt #tre cool #alliereviews #green day doc #punk #punk rock #pop punk #dookie #american idiot

19 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Text

look me up and define me (please remind me) (part 2/2)

He is whatever puts Thomas first. But that changes so often that he doesn’t know what he is beyond that.

He is Janus when he is alone, but only when he is not someone else.

Janus has never minded the fact that his identity is fluid, ever-changing. He acts as whoever Thomas needs him to be in the moment, and if that means he doesn't know much about himself as an individual, well. It's never been a problem for him.

Until he gives away his name, and then it very much is.

Chapter Warnings: identity issues, body dysphoria, body horror, panic attack, self-harm (hair pulling), mild injury

Chapter Word Count: 5,947

Pairings: platonic TDLAMPR, implied Moceit

Notes: This is the second part of a two-part fic, so I’d start with part one if you haven’t read it. Also, this fic as a whole was inspired by the awesome ‘The Record Player Song’ animatic by @turbovickii, which, 10/10 would recommend if you haven’t seen it

(part one)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

“Do you ever think about the past?” Patton asks him. It’s a gloomy day, rain beating against the mindscape’s windows to mimic the downpour keeping Thomas trapped inside his apartment. On days like these, he has learned, Patton tends toward melancholy reflection, toward sipping wine in the living room rather than attempting to cook or bake.

He has found himself glad of it, most of the time. Even on a good day, Patton is often too distractible to bake without supervision, and on these days, his eyes glaze and his movements slow as he reminisces on days long gone. Frankly, he should not be trusted anywhere near the kitchen, and they both know it.

“Not really,” he lies. “Not unless it suits. Do you?”

He already knows the answer to that, of course. Patton hums noncommittally, eyes flitting to the rain-splattered windowpane. It’s just the two of them right now; the others emerge from their rooms more often now than they did just after the wedding, but still not often enough. Patton is struggling, both with himself and with his relationships, and for that reason alone, he will do his best to support. Even if he doesn’t know quite how. Even if he himself grows more and more adrift with every passing day.

“I wish we’d been friends sooner,” Patton says. “I was pretty mean to you when we were kids.”

He sighs. “I was pretty mean right back,” he says, ignoring the implications of friends, all the meanings contained in that one word. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Patton smiles at him, and his heart skips a beat. “Still,” he says. “I’m glad we’re friends now, Janus.”

He doesn’t have a response to that. He can’t tell Patton that their friendship is based on a lie, that who he thinks of as Janus is nothing more than a shadow, that in these moments, he is drawing on a Patton-like persona more than anything else. He can’t tell Patton that he thinks about the past far more than he should, simpler times, when he was someone else, young and fresh-eyed and hopeful, not just willing but eager to do anything and everything to help Thomas and the rest of them.

That was when the trouble started. When deception became integral to his being. When he lost himself under all the rest, if there was ever anything to be lost in the first place. Isn’t it ironic, that Thomas’ sense of self-preservation has no sense of self of his own?

I’m glad we’re friends now, Janus.

He would be, too, if Janus were real. But Janus isn’t real, and he doesn’t know how to make him so.

So, he doesn’t respond to Patton. Just smiles, smiles and smiles and smiles and hopes that he can’t see through the facade. It’s something Patton himself would do, he thinks, and pretends that the thought doesn’t make him sick.

And so the days pass. Life continues. Nothing is solved. He grows closer with the others, more welcome in their discussions, more appreciated by Thomas, even, and he would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that interacting with them is like pulling teeth. They all look at him in a certain way, now, like they understand him, or want to, and it is all he can do to prevent himself from shouting at them, from telling them that they understand nothing. He is a mask built upon another mask built upon more masks, and there is nothing underneath them. Janus is the name given to the void they hide.

How could they possibly understand him when he doesn’t understand himself? When he is slowly beginning to realize that there is nothing to understand at all, that Janus is just a name, and a name means nothing at all if there is not a person behind it, attached in a way that he has never been?

Janus isn’t his name. It isn’t, and it is, but the difference between those is negligible. They all expect him to be Janus, now, but he has never known who that is, has never been anything but an amalgam of the others and of Deceit. How is he supposed to be Janus when he doesn’t--

There is a hand on his arm.

He jerks away, blinking. Virgil is standing close to him, too close, hand outstretched, but rather than his typical snarl, his face is neutral, nothing but a crease between his brows betraying his discomfort.

“You back?” he drawls, but the words are nowhere near as biting as they usually are.

He blinks again, looking around the room. Thomas’ living room. The others are all present, all but Remus, and all of their eyes are on him. They are discussing Thomas’ next creative venture, if he remembers correctly, going over potential ideas and plans, and for some reason, they wanted his input as well. He’s not sure why; they’ve gone through this perfectly well without him in the past, and once the meeting starts, he barely has anything to say. Which allows his mind to wander.

A mistake.

He steps away from Virgil, hoping that the movement comes off as casual, and brushes a bit of imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Apologies,” he says. “Lost in thought. What was the question?”

He ignores the way Virgil’s eyes narrow.

“Uh,” Thomas says, oddly hesitant. “Are you sure about that? We’ve been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now. Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” he says. “A bit tired, perhaps.” Not a lie. He’s exhausted. It’s hardly the whole truth, and something in him burns to be showing any amount of weakness at all, any vulnerability, but better this than sharing any of the rest.

“Oh,” Thomas says. “Well, I just--”

“Falsehood.”

The word is quiet, but it cuts through the conversation like a hot knife through bread. Because for all that the word is Logan’s trademark phrase, it is not Logan who speaks, but Virgil. Virgil, who is still standing too near, hunched in on himself, his face set in an expression he can’t begin to interpret.

For a long moment, there is silence.

“That’s my word,” Logan says. It seems a halfhearted complaint.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Roman says. “Where’s the falsehood?”

“I’ll admit, I’m confused as well,” he says, though he’s not, though his heart is beating far too quickly, though he knows exactly what Virgil means, and both fear and betrayal swirl in his chest and stiffen his spine. His nerves rise to a crescendo, and he has to focus on his breathing to make sure his form doesn’t slip. He must remember how they view him now, how they look at him and think Janus, must remember to maintain Deceit’s face, though the anxiety flooding his senses urges him to exchange the yellow for purple, the scales for eyeshadow, because that’s what he’s always done when he feels this way, when his chest feels tight and his breaths come too short. This is a Virgil-feeling, but he can’t shift right now because he’s supposed to be Deceit, is supposed to be Janus, and if he changes now, the house of cards on which he’s built his acceptance crumbles.

He can’t let that happen. He feels terrible now, but the isolation of before was worse. Now that he’s admitted as much to himself, he wouldn’t be able to bear going back.

“Now, now,” Patton says, “let’s let Virgil speak.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, brow furrowed. “Virgil, what do you mean?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Let him explain,” he says, jerking a thumb in his direction. “He’s the one lying.”

And just like that, all eyes return to him. He wonders, idly, if he could get away with summoning Remus, if he could throw a bit of chaos into the mix and watch them all scramble. They’d forget about him in the wake of that, he’s sure. But no, he can’t do it now, not when it would be so obvious. His strengths lie in his subtlety, his skill at misdirection. Remus is a blunt instrument, one not suited for this task.

He raises his hands, claps sarcastically. “Well done, Virgil,” he says. “I’m so impressed by your ability to remember my basic function. Good job. Can we refocus the conversation now?”

The sarcasm helps him focus. Helps him settle into the persona, into who he’s supposed to function as in this moment. He can lie his way out of this. He’s done it before. He can do it again.

“Okay, usually I’m all for calling him out,” Roman says, “but he’s said, like, two things this whole time.”

“Yes,” Logan adds, “and one of those was-- oh. I see.”

“What?” Thomas asks.

Patton gasps. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, no.” Patton looks at him, then, so much warmth and empathy in his gaze that he wants to die, just a little bit, because he doesn’t deserve any of it, doesn’t deserve his friendship, because the person that Patton thinks he is getting to know has never existed in the first place. “If something’s the matter, you can tell us! You know that, right?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” he grits out, but no one listens. He takes a moment to glare at Virgil, who stares back, nonplussed.

“Oh, hey,” Thomas says, looking surprised. Like he never considered the idea that something could be wrong with him. He would have liked to keep it that way, but it might be too late for that now. “Yeah, if something’s the matter, we want to hear about it. You don’t need to lie about that, Janus.”

And Thomas is so genuine in his concern, so compassionate, so kind to a side that he used to hate and fear. But it’s the name that sends him over the edge, the name that makes him flinch, hard, because he can’t escape it, can’t escape the fact that they all expect him to be something that he has never been, that he can never be.

He is whatever Thomas needs, but Thomas has never needed Janus, and he doesn’t know how to be something that Thomas doesn’t need. How to be a person in his own right, how to be the person they believe he is.

Thomas sees him flinch, because of course he does, because it was obvious. He steps forward, worry written plain on his face, but he mirrors the motion, stepping back. Thomas stops.

“Is there anything I can--”

“He doesn’t like it when you say his name,” Virgil says, and the room goes still. Virgil swallows, clearly not comfortable with the attention, but he soldiers on. “He didn’t tell me why.”

“Shut up,” he bites out, before he can stop himself.

“Is that true?” Thomas asks, asks him, all wide-eyed and hurt and he can’t take this--

“That doesn’t seem to make sense,” Logan says, and yes, please, keep talking, Logan, everyone pay attention to Logan now, thank you, “considering that he told us his name himself. Though, to be fair, the way in which he did so could be construed as an attempt to gain trust, rather than because he actually wanted to share.”

“Oh, come on,” Roman snorts. “Nobody was forcing him to say anything.”

“Oh my god, Roman, that’s not helping,” Virgil says. Defending him? That makes no sense, but alright.

“I’m just saying! He took his glove off all on his own--”

“That doesn’t mean Logan is wrong,” Patton ventures.

They just keep talking, all their voices overlapping and intermingling, talking about him, arguing about him like he’s not right here, and he backs up until he hits the wall. He needs them to stop, needs this to stop, needs to spend another week or two alone in his room before he can even think to face them again. He threads his fingers through his hair, pulling hard, but the pain does nothing to help him focus. He wishes he could cover his ears, wishes he didn’t have to hear this, wishes that today hadn’t happened at all. Wishes he could come up with an excuse, a lie to throw them off and redirect their attention, but his mind is frighteningly blank.

“Guys, enough.” Thomas’ voice silences the room, and then, Thomas turns to him. “Janus?” he prompts softly. “Are you okay?” And he means well, he does, but--

He can’t do this. Can’t do this at all, can’t think of a single lie to tell, and nothing else is helping either. He can’t think logically, and his rolling emotions are no help, and trying to summon bravado is a failure, and he is already so scared that he doesn’t see how indulging in any more anxiety could possibly help matters.

He needs--

He needs something else, anything else, anything but this, and--

He shifts before he can stop himself. And once he starts, he can’t hold back, can’t stop seeking comfort in another form because that’s what he always does when his own doesn’t cut it. He cycles through all of them, melting and changing and remaking himself with every second that passes, but nothing helps, nothing abates the buzzing under his skin or the ringing in his ears. But he keeps doing it anyway, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

And the damage is done. His eyes are screwed shut, but there’s no way they’re not all staring at him. The silence is deafening.

He stands there, trying to land on an identity, and finds nothing. Because there is nothing.

“Ja… Deceit?” someone says, and it’s Patton’s voice, trembling and unsure, and somehow, that is the breaking point.

He opens his eyes, meets Thomas’ shocked gaze. And then he sinks out.

He rises up in his room unsteadily, lurching. He almost falls, though he catches himself against a bedpost, panting. His form is still shifting, still fluid; he can feel the changes rippling across his face like rushing water, so continuous that it’s beginning to hurt. He stumbles over to the mirror and watches it, the parade of outfits and hair styles and eye colors, morphing and twisting his face into nothing he recognizes.

And then suddenly, he settles. On scaly skin, on one yellow, slit eye. On a bowler hat, on a capelet, on yellow gloves. It’s his default setting. The serpentine tempter.

He looks, and who he sees staring back at him is utterly alien. The image moves when he does, blinks when he blinks, and the same tears that he feels streaming down his cheeks are reflected there. It’s him, he knows, because it couldn’t be anyone else. But he feels so disconnected from it, feels like he’s looking at a stranger, and perhaps he is. Does he know himself? Does he have a self to know?

He stares, and the image in the mirror stares back. And then, he rears back and punches the glass.

The sound it makes when it shatters is the most satisfying thing he’s heard in a long time.

He stands there, gasping, heedless of the shards embedded in his hand. For a moment, he feels safe, feels secure, as if the enemy has been defeated, as if in shattering the image, he has shattered himself, too, and is finally free. But then, he feels himself shift, feels his body do it entirely without his permission, as if on instinct, and catches a glimpse when he can’t help but look down, a glimpse of capelet sliding into hoodie sliding into green sash into red sash into cardigan into hoodie--

His legs give out, and he lands hard. Glass digs into his hands and knees, but he can’t bring himself to move, can’t bring himself to do anything but shake and struggle for breath and hope that this will end.

He doesn’t know who he is, doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be. If he could figure it out, maybe this would stop, but he can’t think straight, can’t think about much of anything at all past the fact that it hurts, and that he’s scared, and that he feels as though his very bones are trying to burst out of his skin. It’s coming so fast now that he can barely keep track; he is Virgil, then Patton, then Roman, then Patton, then Logan then Remus then Roman then Virgil then PattonthenLoganthenRemusthen--

The door bursts open. Someone enters, black and green, and he can’t focus on their face, can’t do anything but flinch back as their footsteps approach, huddle in on himself and pray that they won’t hurt him, that they won’t exacerbate the pain.

“--ee? Dee?” The voice filters in, and it’s Remus, loud and shrill and concerned, and he wishes he had the strength to comfort him, to reassure him, but he thinks that if he opens his mouth, he’ll scream. He feels like his skin is sliding off, like it’s cracking open, and he has no way to anchor himself, no port in this storm, no control over what’s happening to him, and he’s so scared.

“--ell me what to do, what’s happening--” Remus is saying, and then there are hands on him, on his face, and he jerks away because the touch burns. Remus is still babbling: “--kay, won’t touch you, but Dee, please, you gotta tell me what to do--”

--then his room is suddenly full of people, people standing, watching, talking, saying words he can’t understand, moving toward him, and he flinches back and away, because he doesn’t want them here, doesn’t want them to see him like this, doesn’t want them near him because no doubt they’ll only make it worse and he can’t breathe and he can’t stop shifting because it’s supposed to help but it’s not, it’s hurting him, and he thinks he hears Remus shouting at them, telling them to get back, to go away, but he can’t--

Then, someone presses their hand into his, and tells him to breathe. The rest of the world dissolves into static.

It takes a long time for him to be able to follow their example, but he focuses on the point of contact, on their hand holding his, and part of him wants to jerk away as though he’s been scalded. But the touch is through his gloves, fabric separating their skin, and somehow, that makes it bearable. And the other part of his mind wants to hold on and never let go, so that’s what he does.

His breathing slows. The shifting stops, and the pain subsides into a dull ache.

He looks up, and Virgil is crouched in front of him, the rise and fall of his chest outlining a familiar pattern.

“Can you hear me?” Virgil asks, his voice quiet and the closest thing to calm he ever gets.

He nods.

Someone lets out a breath, a sigh of relief, and he looks around. They’re all here, all of them, crouching around him. Remus is closest, is right by his side, hands hovering but not touching. Patton and Logan are sitting to either side of Virgil, Logan with furrowed brow and Patton looking near tears himself. Even Roman is here, hovering over Logan’s shoulder, and though he’s keeping his distance, worry mars his face. He knows, knows he must look absolutely pitiful if Roman is worried about him.

And Thomas is here, too. Kneeling at his other side, kneeling in broken glass from the mirror, and all for him? After that wretched display, Thomas still came after him?

Thomas is looking at him. His eyes are shiny.

“Sorry,” he rasps, and then frowns. His voice is lower, rougher than he anticipated, and glancing at himself, it is easy to determine the reason. His hands are gloved, but purple-patched sleeves cover his arms. He’s Virgil right now, Virgil, even though the real Virgil is sitting right in front of him, is still, for whatever reason, holding his hand.

“Hey,” Virgil-- the real Virgil-- says, “don’t do that. C’mon.”

He pulls his hand away, trying to school his face into a glare, into any expression that would suit Virgil’s face better. He’s sure he looks miserable. His mind races, supplying him with biting words and insults, and it makes him angry, a bit, because where was this when he needed it? It’s too late, now, too late to pretend that this never happened. They’re all here, in his room, his safe place, his sanctuary.

Only, it hasn’t been that for a long time, has it? How long has it been since he was comfortable here? Since he was comfortable anywhere?

The realization makes him shudder, and before he knows it, he is sliding into Patton’s form instead. The grey cardigan settles around his shoulders, but it brings none of the comfort that it usually does. He just feels pathetic, and he knows the others must see it.

He can’t look at Patton. Doesn’t want to know what he’s thinking. Doesn’t think he could bear to see rejection painted there.

His breath hitches.

“Hey,” Thomas says, and he can’t help but turn to look, because he has never been able to help but do what Thomas asks of him. He turns to look, and through vision that is once again blurry with tears, he sees Thomas reach out. Slowly, accentuating the motion so that he has plenty of time to reject him, to pull away. He is tempted to smack the hand away, to gather up the strength to eject them all from his room and lock the door behind them, anything to avoid having to talk about this.

But this is Thomas, so he allows him to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Thomas says softly. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too, but we’re here for you.”

It’s not a lie. He knows because it chimes in the air, clear and bright and true, like a clamoring of bells ringing in the morning. No tricks, no subterfuge, just the one person he would do anything for, telling him that it’s going to be alright, that everything is going to be alright.

He forces himself to shift again, forces the scales back across his face, focuses on maintaining the gloves to cover hands that are cut and bleeding and embedded with glass shards. It itches, itches and burns and doesn’t feel right at all, but if he’s going to do this, he could at least try not to look like any of them while he speaks.

“No,” he says, and jolts at the sound of his own voice, strange and foreign. “You deserve an explanation.”

“Maybe,” Virgil says suddenly, “but that doesn’t mean you owe it to us.”

He swivels his head to stare at him, and Virgil scowls, glancing away.

“Look,” he says, “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt you, back there. It’s just, you’ve been weird and spacey ever since you came to talk to me, and I just thought that if something was wrong, and I didn’t know what to do, then maybe somebody else would. But I’m sorry for going about it like I did.”

“I--” His tongue feels clumsy, thick in his mouth. An apology from Virgil is not something he ever thought he would receive, but this, too, hangs between them like a breath of fresh air, nothing but truth in his words. “Apology accepted,” he says, and it feels lacking compared to all that still lies unvoiced between them, but Virgil visibly untenses.

“Cool,” he mutters. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Despite himself, he smiles, just a bit, an upwards twitch of his lips.

And then, Logan clears his throat. “I don’t want to put any undue pressure on you,” he says, “but if you would be willing to discuss what ails you, I am in complete agreement with Thomas. Perhaps we can help you find a solution.”

He takes a breath to steady himself, taking a brief survey of the room, watching all of them gathered around him, attentive and unsure. He… could tell them, he realizes. He could tell them, and they would listen, and they might even believe him. He could tell them, and there is nothing stopping him from doing so but himself, old habits that have been ingrained in him over years and decades, habits that insist that he cannot afford to be vulnerable, that he cannot afford to show weakness, that the moment he bares his throat to them, they will pounce.

But looking at them, at Patton, so determined to help, at Logan, face open and non-judgemental, and even at Roman, who has the least reason out of all of them to want to see him well and yet is here anyway, he wonders if that is the case at all.

Thomas’ hand is still on one shoulder, a steadying point of contact. Without looking, he reaches back and finds one of Remus’ hands, still hovering, and guides it to rest on his other. Remus makes a sound of relief and tightens his grip, and it is almost uncomfortable, but it also serves as a reminder that he is not alone, for once, and that perhaps, he can have help, if he asks for it.

Does he dare do this? It will hurt him, and it will hurt them. Will likely hurt Thomas.

But, he realizes, it’s too late to prevent that. Thomas is already hurt, is already lost and confused and worried. The least he can do is tell him why.

So, he looks to Patton. If he’s going to share this, if he truly wants them to understand, he needs to start at the beginning.

“Do you remember what I used to call myself?” he asks. “When Thomas was young, I mean, before I was labeled Deceit. Back when you were Feelings and Logan was Learning.”

“I--” Patton’s face screws up in an obvious effort to remember. “That was so long ago, I don’t--” He pauses, mouth working silently, and then, his eyes open wide. “You know, I’d forgotten that we used to call you something else,” he says. He doesn’t sound happy about it. “Weren’t you Self?”

He nods. “Self,” he repeats. It’s been so long since he said the name aloud. It’s like an old favorite shoe, well-worn but now half a dozen sizes too small. “That’s right. Back then, I was entirely about self-preservation. Anything that boosted Thomas’ sense of self, I was in charge of.” He closes his eyes, slipping back into the memories. “Deception didn’t become a major part of that until later, until there were… issues. Until Thomas began to doubt himself more, experience more internal conflict.” He opens his eyes again, meeting Patton’s once more. “Then, I did anything I could to keep things running smoothly. I was… whoever I needed to be, whenever I needed to be them, as long as it would benefit Thomas. You usually didn’t catch me.” He splays his hands, relishing the sting of his bloodied knuckles. “I’m like glue, filling in the cracks.”

“You impersonated us that much?” Virgil asks, voice strangled.

He shrugs. “For all intents and purposes, I was you,” he says quietly. “I got used to it after a while. Too used to it, I suppose.”

“What do you mean by that?”

It’s Thomas who speaks now, low and urgent and worried, and he turns to him, turns to the man he has given everything to protect.

“As best I can tell,” he says, and he is not trying to be bitter, but something of the kind leaks through anyway, “I’m a… a mimic, of a sort. Or maybe just a mirror. I’ve spent so long being whatever was needed that I never developed into anything else, and then I told you my name and you started calling me Janus, and I-- I couldn’t handle it. I can’t.” He shudders, closing his eyes. He can’t bear to meet Thomas’ gaze anymore, can’t bear to see the condemnation he knows must surely come now. “I can’t meet those expectations. At best, I’m… a fake. A sham. Janus… it’s my name, but there’s not a person attached to it. Everything I am is built on traits I’ve taken from everyone else.” He shakes his head, a sour smile curling his lips. “Take away the lies, and there’s nothing left of me.”

“That’s why you don’t like us using the name,” Thomas says. “You don’t feel like it’s yours.”

“Nothing that I am is mine,” he answers, and falls silent, waiting for the sentence to fall, the gavel to pound.

For a moment, no one says anything at all.

“That’s not true,” Patton says, and the fierceness in his voice takes him aback. His eyes snap open.

“Patton--”

But Patton shakes his head, his face flushing pink. “No, you let me talk,” he says. “That’s not true, and I’m so sorry that we’ve let you feel like it is. I should’ve--” He breaks himself off, biting his lip. “No, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re not just a mimic, or a mirror, or what have you, and you should never, ever have been made to feel like you had to be.”

He didn’t expect this, didn’t expect a passionate defense. He’s not sure where this is coming from, not sure what he did to provoke this.

“I--”

“I mean, we’ve been spending time together, right?” Patton continues. “And you’ve been enjoying that, unless you were faking, but I don’t think you were. Do you really think that you were only having fun because it was something you’d done when you were being me?”

His throat runs dry. His first instinct is to say, yes, of course, because he’s spent so long thinking this way. But instead of his usual conviction, his mind fills with a buzzing noise, and he can’t bring himself to speak.

“I agree with Patton,” Logan speaks up. “True, there may be some activities that you initially took interest in for the purpose of impersonating one of us. However, that does not make your own enjoyment of those activities any less valid, or any less a part of who you are. You, specifically, not you when you are attempting to emulate one of us. Unless you don’t actually enjoy our chess matches.”

But--

“Yeah, and you don’t have to actually be one of us in order to feel something that one of us feels, or do something that one of us does,” Virgil says. “Just because Logan is Logic doesn’t mean that you have to be Logan in order to be logical. I mean, can you imagine if Logan were the only one capable of basic logical reasoning? You dumbass,” he tacks on.

That, at least, is enough to prompt an answer out of him. “It’s a habit,” he says weakly. His head is spinning. He doesn’t know what else to do, what else to say. How can they be saying these things so easily? How can they so casually uproot the foundations that his existence is built upon?

“You are worthy of personhood in your own right,” Roman adds, quietly. “I… I know that we have had our arguments. But you are our equal, just as deserving of an individual identity. There is nothing you need do to earn that.”

“You’re my best fucking friend,” Remus says suddenly, his grasp on his shoulder tightening. “You are. Not you trying to be someone else. I like you. I’ll kill anyone who says different.”

He feels a pang at that, because that’s just it. Remus thinks he’s his friend, thinks he likes him for who he is, but how can he, when even he doesn’t know who he is himself?

“I know it hurts to not know what you’re doing,” Patton says softly, “or even who you are, or who you’re supposed to be. But you’ve got us.”

“I don’t know who I am when I’m not trying to be someone else,” he says, the admission ripped from him almost unwillingly. “I don’t know who Janus is.” The tears well up again, and he lets them fall.

Patton is so kind. They are all being so kind, even Virgil, who hates him, even Roman, who he has wronged. What has he done to deserve this kindness?

“I think,” Thomas says haltingly, “that I’m gonna hug you now, if that’s okay.”

And he startles, remembering again that Thomas is here, too, even though he’s been quiet. Though he hasn’t been quiet, exactly, has he? They are all part of him, after all; they all make up his thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams, so in a way, Thomas doesn’t need to be vocal himself to make his opinions known.

The realization hits, then, as Thomas wraps his arms around him, that Thomas cares about him. And not just Thomas, but the rest of them, too, piling around him, Remus clinging to his back and Patton tucking himself into his side and Virgil laying a hand on his arm. They are here for him, came after him, and for the first time, he considers the idea that their regard might not be contingent on the presentation of a certain identity.

The concept is foreign to him. He has spent so long being whatever he thought they needed, thought they wanted, and that was what led him here, attached to a name with nothing behind it. He has spent so long pretending to be strong, to be cool, to be collected. There has never been time not to be, never been time to make himself vulnerable, to allow himself to discover who Janus might be, if given the chance.

He shudders, burying his face in Thomas’ shoulder.

“It’s okay not to know,” Thomas says, and the love and acceptance in his voice is so real and so true that he begins to cry harder. “You don’t need to know right now. But we can help you figure it out, alright? We’ll do this together.” His voice softens. “You’re not on your own.”

He doesn’t know who he is. Doesn’t know where to begin to find out. But that much, perhaps, he can believe.

“Okay,” he whispers, and just this once, lets himself trust.

----------

Patton is at the oven, cursing under his breath, trivial words like “shucks” and “darn” and once in a while, a particularly vehement, “Damn!” The kitchen fills with smoke and the scent of burning cookies.

He hangs in the doorway for a while before making his presence known.

“Not having any trouble at all, I see,” he says, and Patton jerks, spinning around. His face lights up upon seeing him, and he hopes the warmth in his cheeks isn’t visible.

“Hi,” Patton says, and laughs ruefully. “What, you don’t think I’m smoking hot?”

He has to bite back his instinctual response, which is just as well, because Patton continues before he can think of anything appropriate.

“I’ve still got enough dough for another try, if you wanna help,” Patton says cheerfully. “Um, is Janus okay right now or no?”

He considers. It still doesn’t fit quite right, doesn’t settle on his shoulders. But he thinks he can do this without falling into the mindset that he has to be somebody else, that he has to wrap another identity around himself. He can do this maskless, and if he finds himself faltering, Patton will help him.

He can do this. And it’s not perfect, but perhaps, here’s a start.

“Janus is fine,” he says, and steps into the kitchen.

Writing Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii

Part 2 Taglist: @bunny222

470 notes · View notes

britishassistant · 3 years

Text

The Villainous Paranoiac Goes To Jail and Ninja Afterlife

Two innocent children get sent to Night Raven College

A set of scenarios about three of my ocs unwittingly trading places for two days, non-canon to any of my AUs

Swap 1:

Yuu—> Konohagakure

Yuu wakes up with a tantō to the throat.

Chie: Tell me where my daughter is and I’ll make your death quick

Yuu promptly freaks the fuck out

Through a combination of panicked yelling and tears the Prefect manages to convey to the Ketsugi that if there was a kidnapping, Yuu is both uninvolved and as much as of a victim as their precious daughter

Gai confirms that the strange teenager not only has no chakra, but clearly has little to no combat training despite his(?) athleticism, meaning Mayu-chan could easily overpower an assailant of this size, especially one this undernourished!

Yuu tries not to be offended and to avoid staring at Gai and Lee’s eyebrows they’re so big

Promptly shrieks when Kami!Sanji materializes to confirm that the Paranoiac had nothing to do with Mayu’s disappearance as far as the other gods can tell

Yuu becomes convinced that this place is the afterlife

The sad part is that Chie and Jirou can’t actually say much to the contrary, because??? Their daughter remembers dying before she came here?? Also there are active deities just floating around so.

Actually tears up at the homemade meals the Ketsugi provide

Before being sick as a dog later because food infused with chakra? Does not agree with a person without a chakra regulatory system

Surprisingly patient with Lee and any questions he has the purity of Jack and Deuce is strong in this one

Bit more long-suffering towards Naruto and his rendition of Wonderwall. Sunshine child too bright, introvert Yuu can’t handle it

Keeps writing down everything everyone says

This makes ANBU and ROOT very twitchy

The Paranoiac is quietly slated for “interview” at T&I the next day

Yuu crashes on the Ketsugi couch none the wiser

Mayu—> Nanba

Mayu wakes up to confused screaming and profanity.

It’s Hani.

It’s very rare for screaming not to be because of Hani

All he knows is one child was in this bed last night, and now’s there’s a different one dressed like it came straight out of Ninja Kamikaze???

Mayu for her part is both very alarmed to be waking up in a prison cell with two strange men and very glad she has her bokken with her

Kiji comes in to find his beautiful inmates being menaced by a twelve year old with a wooden sword

The twelve year old is winning

Once Mayu has ascertained that they aren’t enemy ninja and she’s somehow in her old world (?) she becomes much more cooperative with the guards

She’s very worried about how she’s going to get back to her family in Konoha

Also wondering if she should try to contact her former little brother Harp (who knows if she’ll ever get the chance again?)

These worries are not assuaged when the Warden informs her that there’s no records proving “Tamara Kaur” ever existed

For lack of any relations who they can contact to take the child off their hands, and because they have no idea how she successfully infiltrated the most secure prison in the world and replaced one of the inmates, the Warden decides to keep Mayu in Nanba’s holding cells until further notice

Guess who finds the samurai child while breaking out?

Nico, Uno, and Rock are amazed at the existence of a real live Japanese Samurai! With a katana and everything!!

Jyugo just asks straight out if Mayu’s an actor too

Mayu is very bemused by everything, but they seem friendly! The one with the mohawk likes food too!

Plus the blonde one is British! Just like she used to be!

Uno is very confused about how a twelve year old somehow lost her citizenship

Break Mayu out to get food together

They get caught the moment they set foot in the cafeteria and scolded very harshly

Mayu has trouble sleeping in a cell cot that night

Nana—> Night Raven College

Nana’s first instinct on waking up in a strange bed next to a monster is to assume he’s been kidnapped and attempt to subdue his captors

Which means Grim wakes up to an attempted smothering

The ghosts hear muffled screaming and rush in only to get salt and iron filings to the face. Nana actually has them all on the run when Crowley bursts in

Instantly becomes a confused and lost child in front of the headmaster and dorm heads

Only Grim and the ghosts know the truth, and their complaints are overlooked due to them “scaring the poor boy”

No one has any idea what to do with a thirteen year old magicless kid. It was hard enough with Yuu, and the Prefect was at least sixteen and could attend classes!

Nana adapts quickly to the idea of being in this new world— he’s just sad he couldn’t say goodbye to Kiji, Hani-senpai and Trois-senpai before leaving Nanba

Immediately resolves to leave NRC at the earliest possible convenience when he gets a good look at the Theory Wall— he can’t even read Japanese but that amount of crazy that it signifies always spells trouble

Is confused by all the pictures of Disney villains on the Theory Wall, but decides it’s not worth the trouble to ask about

Actually uses the beauty products Vil left for Yuu correctly

Gets semi-adopted into Pomefiore after asking Vil where the high quality products came from

Grim and the ghosts aren’t sorry to see the little brat go

Vil carts him around to test his potential in the performance arts

Epel tries to be a good senpai for the kid, and tells him he doesn’t have to just go along with Vil

Nana appreciates the effort, but does find this kind of thing more fun than being on his own he’s homesick for his cell

Rook enjoys seeing the child freeze up minutely whenever he asks about the prison attire and the large “7” tattoo on the back of the boy’s head

Nana likes Rook less and less with every pointed question the vice dorm leader makes

Can’t sleep in the big cushy Pomefiore bed and so curls up on the floor with a pillow instead

Swap 2:

Yuu—> Nanba

What why is Yuu in jail now

The prefect was supposed to be back home/in Ramshackle Dorm, why is Yuu in jail now—

Yuu is stressed and overdue for Grim snuggles

Paranoiac is also not thrilled about being stuck in Building Three— it’s like Pomefiore on steroids

At least Epel and Vil don’t steal and obsess over the underwear of their “fans”

Rook...the jury’s still out. But probably not. Probably

Maybe

Hopefully

Much less cooperative than Mayu.

Questions about the Prefect’s family name are met with a stony glare. “It’s Yuu. Just Yuu. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

Can’t answer any questions about Mayu or her current whereabouts despite admitting to knowing of the girl, but does posit a theory about the three of them transmigrating and swapping places based on the information gained in Konoha

Gets offended and even less cooperative when the interrogating guard calls the hypothesis “crazy”

Not intimidated by Hajime or the other guards in the slightest. Yuu’s classmates are far more likely to inflict lasting bodily harm and it’s hard for even the worst human glare to measure up to Floyd or Leona on a bad day

The Warden scares the Prefect though

Doesn’t stop Yuu from requesting a lawyer or other legal counsel before submitting to further questioning

The Paranoiac is a Japanese citizen and has made a point to know what the applicable legal rights for this situation are

Yuu ends up in the holding cells

Guess who hasn’t learned their lesson while breaking out?

Uno takes one look at Yuu

“Ah Jyugo, this one has your energy”

Nico loudly asks if the Prefect is from an isekai and died and reincarnated in Nanba??! Do they die over and over again and revive to beat bad guys?? Do they have an amazing cheat skill?? Are they a spider?? Can they shoot a beam??

Yuu just thinks. Ah. So this is what would happen if Kalim and Idia somehow had a kid

Don’t break the Prefect out, but Jyugo comes back later and deposits something through the bars

“This is Kuu. He’s a guard, but he’s also really good when you’re lonely. You look like you could use the company”

Yuu blinks and holds out a hand for the black cat with a guard cap to sniff

Crashing in a cell cot is uncomfortable, but hey, at least there’s a cat to pet

Mayu—> Night Raven College

Why is there a tanuki in her bed?

Grim isn’t waking up by being murdered but being poked with a stick by another smol child isn’t much better

Mayu is Concerned by the Theory Wall

“Is— is the person who lives here okay?”

Grim: Hell if I know

Mayu’s even more Concerned when she opens the fridge and sees it’s bare

>:|

Sanji wouldn’t let these people go hungry, so she’s not going to either!

Searches until she finds the Prefect’s grocery money and marches with Grim to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop

Everyone is confused by the presence of a new preteen on campus after the last one vanished from Pomefiore during the night

Mayu’s used to haggling with market people who would rather see her starve than even sell her the worst of their produce, so she’s easily able to barter Sam down to a third of the price for the groceries she wants to buy

Sam’s more amused by the guts of this tiny samurai devil than anything

Mayu and Grim drag all the food back by themselves with a few students following from a distance out of curiosity

They all soon enter Ramshackle once the smells of cooking begin to emerge from the dorm

Silver first followed because the child has a sword and is now helping to knead dough

Epel arrived because he had questions about where Nana had gone, but Mayu is genuinely clueless so now he’s peeling apples for lack of anything better to do

Mayu soon has several “helpers” for making bread and other easy-to-preserve and mix-and-match bulk meals to fill the Ramshackle fridge, though she soon has to send Grim out for more ingredients when her helpers begin getting hungry

The night ends with a feast that can rival the quality of food served at Kalim’s parties

Mayu finds one of Yuu’s blank notebooks and writes down some easy recipes the Prefect can use for all the food now in the fridge and pantry, with emphasis on fish based dishes

The ghosts and Grim enjoy having Mayu much more than Nana

Mayu still has trouble sleeping in the big Ramshackle bed that night

Nana—> Konohagakure

Well this isn’t Nanba or Night Raven College

Welp. Time to go then.

Nana is halfway out of Konoha before anyone notices

Gai does notice because a strange kid in a prison jumpsuit swiftly scurrying to the exit sticks out like a sore thumb in the early morning

ANBU’s search for the vanished Yuu is the only reason Nana isn’t stopped by them

Nana tries to run

Nothing can outrun the Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha

Nana is now more than slightly traumatized

Gets carted off to early morning training with Naruto and Lee

Is initially more interested in plotting yet another escape attempt until Lee mentions Yuu and NRC—then he’s curious about what information he can glean about the two other members of this triad

Especially interested in the concept of reincarnating into another world or being brought there by an outside force rather than moving between worlds freely

Eats an almost alarming amount for his size at breakfast that morning and leaves nothing on his plate

Unfailingly well-mannered to his hosts

Offers more information about Mayu’s past world in payment for eating the Ketsugi’s food and waking up in their home after they refuse to let him pay them back using manual labor

Asks them to tell him what they already know so he can work out what knowledge gaps to fill in

Nana: ...Why are you singing Wonderwall?

Takes it upon himself to teach Lee and Naruto more English so they can at least form basic sentences

It’s an uphill battle because predicates and participles are hard

A supportive and encouraging if slightly inept teacher

Soon realizes Chie somehow knows all the swearwords and glares at him for trying to teach them to the boys

Also falls ill from eating chakra-infested food

Gets twitchier as the day goes on and asks to leave the village several times, insisting he can’t impose on their hospitality any longer

Only agrees to sleep on the couch once Jirou subtly implies that at least people will notice and go looking if he goes missing from their house compared to if he disappeared from a tree miles away from Konoha

Can’t sleep on the couch due to jumping at noises during the night, ends up curling up on the floor next to it

29 notes · View notes

thechickflickeffect · 2 years

Text

The Rise & Fall of Taylor Swift

Unless you’ve been literally living under a rock for the past decade and a half, you’ve heard of Taylor Swift. You might even have strong opinions about Taylor Swift. A lot of people hear her name now and immediately clam up – they’re not supposed to like her, “she’s a snake, she’s a slut who dated her way through Hollywood and tore down minorities to do it, she’s a closet conservative”.

On the contrary, some people love Taylor, to the extent of idolization. “She’s a saint! The public brutalized her and she didn’t deserve any of the heat she got in the middle of her career. It’s a real shame. The only reason people hate her is because she’s a successful woman.”

The truth is the world isn’t black and white. The answer isn’t quite as easy as “Taylor is the worst celebrity ever” or “Taylor has never done anything wrong in her life”. Not every issue is going to be so far to one side of “good” or “bad” – Taylor’s downfall and rise back to the top is a great example of that.

At the beginning of Taylor’s fame, she was America’s sweetheart – a darling country bumpkin from Pennsylvania who wrote sweet songs that teen girls could relate to. She was universally beloved or, at the very least, nobody had a reason to hate her. There will always be those that sneer at successful young women, waiting on a chance to pounce and say “well, I never really liked her, anyways”, but, for the most part, she found great acclaim with a successful debut album and an even more successful second album, Fearless; so successful, in fact, that Fearless made Taylor Swift the youngest person to ever win Album of the Year at the Grammy awards at just twenty years old, an undoubtedly impressive feat. She held this record for a full ten years, until eighteen-year-old Billie Eilish won the same award just this past year.

She was accepting the VMA (an MTV music video award) for Best Female Music Video, which one of her lead singles You Belong With Me won, when the domino effect of her downfall began. In the middle of her acceptance speech, Kanye West ran up on the stage and interrupted her, inserting that “Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time”. (Later, when Beyonce was awarded Video of the Year, she very kindly invited Taylor up onto the stage to finish her speech, in lieu of Beyonce giving her own speech.)

youtube

At the time, this was a huge bumble on Kanye’s part. The media framed it as disrespectful and uncalled for, and Beyonce and Taylor both came out of it looking better for how gracefully they handled his blunder. We have to skip forward a couple years to see why this would be marked the beginning of Taylor’s downfall.

Post-VMAs incident, Taylor enjoyed three more successful albums within her target audience. She managed to successfully make the switch from country to pop with one album that was a mix of her traditional sound and the pop transition (Red) and the album immediately following showed a full successful transition to pop (1989). She made jokes about the incident and it endeared the public to her quite a bit, and, eventually, she even fostered a pseudo-friendship with Kanye; it seemed like her only issues now were related to the outpouring of people who disliked her simply because she dated too much or wrote songs about her breakups. These are complaints that, while widespread, problematic, and explicitly misogynistic, she pokes fun at and satirizes in songs such as Blank Space and Shake It Off (and eventually in The Man, but that song doesn’t come until after her era of rebranding).

In this downtime, some valid criticisms of Taylor came out. Specifically referring to the Shake It Off music video, she was widely accused of white feminism and using black bodies and trends (specifically twerking) to make herself look better. A lot of people began to think she was a “closet conservative” due to her refusal to address these criticisms and her refusal to speak on anything political. She’s since opened up about her fear of speaking politically, after watching one of the bands she most admired and loved growing up (The Chicks, formerly known as The Dixie Chicks) get exiled from the country music community for speaking out against Bush and the Iraq war. She had to be careful if she wanted to maintain a career. She has not, however, addressed the cultural appropriation allegations.

youtube

She was on shaky ground with a lot of people who had the same tired criticisms of her music, like “it’s all about boys” or criticisms about herself like that she was a serial dater, but her fanbase was strong and she was thriving after her fourth album, 1989, made a successful transition from country music to pop music.

It was in February of 2016 that the world turned against her. Kanye West dropped his song Famous that included a line directly referencing Taylor - “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex. Why? I made that bitch famous”. Swift spoke out about the obvious misogyny of the line and how much she objected specifically to being called a “bitch”, and Kanye insisted that he had called for approval of the line – Taylor confirmed that he had called her, but that it was not for approval of the song; instead, it was to ask her to launch the song on her own twitter, an offer that she refused. She also warned him about releasing a song with such a directly misogynist tone, though she did approve the beginning of the line – the part that says “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex”, even remarking that she was relieved that he wasn’t calling her, “like that stupid dumb bitch” and that she’d need to think about it.

Among the responses to the line and Taylor’s outspokenness about the use of the word ‘bitch’, Kanye’s wife, Kim Kardashian, posted videos of the phone call on her Snapchat that framed it as if Taylor had approved everything and was now just picking a fight to play the victim. Criticisms about the mystery of Taylor’s political views and her relationship with race resurfaced, many claiming that she was lying to play the white victim to Kanye’s “intimidating black man”. The hashtag “TaylorSwiftisOverParty” trended worldwide on Twitter. She insisted many times that her issue wasn’t with the line itself, but the way that Kanye twisted the narrative and lied to her, in not giving her the full line, in not playing the song for her, in not informing her the phone call was being recorded; she famously ended her response to Kim’s videos with “I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative, one that I have never asked to be part of, since 2009”, referencing their history and the lack of respect she faced from Kanye from day one.

youtube

It was revealed recently, in March 2020, when the full video of the phone call leaked, that Taylor never lied. Kanye never played her the song. He never ran the full line, with the use of the word ‘bitch’ in it, by her. She insinuated many times that it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world for her, but reiterated that his artistic process was his own and she couldn’t fault him for writing about his experience. There was no agreement. There was no explicit consent, and there was definitely not consent for the full line or the sexualization of her figure in the music video for the song. But this information took four years to come out and, at the time, Taylor’s reputation was already destroyed. America’s Sweetheart was already torn down into the image of a ‘snake’ – slimy and sneaky and twisting the narrative to villainize a black man, no matter how twisted the narrative already was.

Taylor went into hiding for a year. Nobody outside of her closest friends and family saw her. Nobody heard from her. It seemed that she had been successfully “cancelled”. So, what then? Obviously, she didn’t disappear forever.

Taylor’s “Reputation”

She wrote “reputation.”. The experience of how the public treated her was objectively traumatizing, especially considering that we know now she wasn’t even in the wrong. In her Netflix documentary, Miss Americana, she said, “#TaylorSwiftisOverParty was the number one trend on Twitter worldwide. You know how many people have to be tweeting that they hate you for that to happen?”

After deleting all of her previous social media posts (which her remaining fans definitely took note of), she came back with just three glitchy videos of snakes, a reference to the emoji many people who hated her spammed after Kim posted the videos of her & Kanye’s phone call.

She took back her reputation, quite literally, with the album reputation. Many of the songs reference the situation that sent her into hiding, but there’s a theme of love underneath that. Songs like “Look What You Made Me Do” and “I Did Something Bad” are directly contrasted with the sweet love stories of songs like “Delicate”, “New Year’s Day”, and “Call It What You Want”, showing how she was affected by the events of 2016, but also that, over her isolation, she met her partner (who she has been dating now since 2017) and fell in a true, sweet kind of love that’s actually lasted and, between the two, she’s gained a confidence that shows in her music still today.

In all honesty, when I started writing this article, I expected it to be a simple one – talk about my loose perception of how the media has treated her and how her music is still good, regardless of how many men she’s dated and maybe talk about the history of “writing what you know” in music – in essence, that she’s not doing anything different by ‘being a serial dater and writing breakup songs about all her boyfriends’ and that the disdain the media had for her was purely misogyny, but it obviously turned into more than that.

In researching, I realized that I had also made so many surface level judgements about Taylor and the Kanye situation (I distinctly remember the day #TaylorSwiftisOverParty trended on Twitter and I remember not really caring, because I had grown out of my “Taylor Phase” of enjoying her music in my youth) and that really illustrated how easy it is to consume a false narrative and make judgements off of it.

Is it fair to say that what happened to Taylor Swift is purely misogyny? Maybe not, there were certainly other factors – most notably her silence on political issues and the fact that she’s still not addressed cultural appropriation accusations from her 1989 era, but it would be extremely careless to say that a man with the same amount of talent, passion, work ethic, and the same scandals would have been treated the same by both other celebrities that should respect them and the general public.

The “New Taylor”

And if there’s anything to be said about the industry and the general public, it’s that it never really changes. After everything Taylor went through, new stars pop up that have the same caliber she did at young ages and we start to see the exact same things.

Olivia Rodrigo, who was a breakout star on the Disney+ series High School Musical: The Musical: The Series and has since started releasing her own music (to great acclaim), has started to receive what I’ve coined “The Taylor Swift Treatment” – at first, everybody loved her and praised her music, she was a breakout star and people were obsessed with her and her first two singles “driver’s license” and “good 4 u”. Then, more and more bitter people started to come out of the woodworks, mostly on Twitter, harshly criticizing her live performances, posting clips of her slightly out of breath (and still hitting the notes) with comments about her breath control, her lyrics, her voice, her choreography.

It’s important to note that “good 4 u”, which is the song she is performing in most of the clips, is very hard to perform. The notes are a little all over the place and the pacing of it is irregular – it’s a song she wrote in quarantine, likely in multiple takes and likely with no intentions of performing it live – she was likely not expecting it to blow up the way it did. That said, the rest of the performance sounds fine and her energy is spectacular.

youtube

The fact is, if this was a popular male celebrity, he would be allowed to make mistakes – he would be allowed to be a little breathless, he would be allowed to be nervous for his first ever live performance and sound a little off at the end, he would be allowed to not be perfect at all times. I’ve watched clips from Harry Styles concerts – does he always sound perfect? No. Does he get half the crap that young women like Olivia Rodrigo get when they’re slightly off key for less than 20 seconds of a live performance? Absolutely not.

2 notes · View notes

vyylet · 3 years

Text

Personal Recommendations Logic - Under Pressure Review

Logic finally reaches his full potential on Under Pressure.

To me at least, Logic’s career has always been one of missed potential. Ever since Under Pressure and the Young Sinatra mixtapes, Logic has always demonstrated the pen game and instrumental pallet to make a great record. He also has some truly amazing songs that I find myself coming back to often, such as Growing Pains III, Dear God, Soul Food, Everybody, the list goes on. However, on every record Logic’s released up until this point, he always seems to be stuck in mediocrity that keeps him from releasing a great album. He had an especially bad 2019, coming off of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, easily the worst rap album of his entire career, and Supermarket, a record I haven’t listened to yet, solely because of the reviews of this album making it sound so terrible that I don’t want to stomach even a second of it. Coming into this record, I wasn’t really sure what to think. I’m always interested and hopeful for every subsequent Logic release, however at this point I’ve kind of come accustomed to be disappointed. However, the album’s title being a clear homage to his first album, as well as him bringing back legendary producer No I.D. into the fray seemed to signal that this album wouldn’t be like most of the other albums that Logic has released up until this point.

Thankfully, I can say that this album does not disappoint, and actually blew my expectations out of the water. While this certainly isn’t the most revolutionary hip hop album of all time, its tracklist is filled with great song after great song. The appeal of this album is shown perfectly on the first track, No Pressure Intro, with its crispy boom bap drums, jazzy chords, and a nice flow and energy that Logic brings to the table. Logic’s pen game has also taken a step up since his past few records, with some funny and memorable quotables like “Gangsters put that heat to your head like a hairdresser”, and “On my Rosa Parks, in the back writin' like B-Rabbit”.

All of these things combined make this track extremely enjoyable, and it continues onto the next track, Hit My Line. While I don’t think Logic’s melodic chorus on this track is all that stand-out, everything else about the track is great. The production is grand and gorgeous, with some heavy drums and warped piano samples, mixed with some grand synth bass hits at some points. The verses are also another part of the track that I love, with Logic rapping about just general injustices in the world, pleading to God to help solve and fix these issues. While this certainly isn’t the most revolutionary song topic, it’s made up for by some great lyricism, as well as Logic’s verse almost being a little anthemic with how passionate he sounds.

The track GP4 is one that I have sort of grown to love over time. The song is a clear homage to the track Elevators by OutKast, with many elements of the track such as instrumental and the hook clearly being heavily inspired by that song. While I don’t love the fact that this song is pretty much a rip off of the OutKast track, in a vacuum I can’t help but love the song. Logic displays a lot of personality and penmanship on this song, with some stand-out moments, like the pretty funny Erykah Badu impression, as well as that Biggie Kick In the Door line, which completely blew my mind when I finally found out what it meant.

Next on the album, the track Celebration is a fun banger, with Logic sounding confident as hell, and a beat that genuinely sounds like a Celebration. I also really love the track Open Mic//Aquarius III, with a nice beat and a performance that sounds kind of like a quick freestyle. One small part of the track that I really love is the way Logic’s voice is mixed, where Logic genuinely sounds like he’s performing at an open mic night.. After that part of the track, the Aquarius III part of the song starts, which is a fun, celebratory way to end the song, with some great production to boot.

The track Soul Food II is another highlight, taking the beat from the first soul food with some great bars from Logic, talking about how he’s changed as an artist and as a person after the release of the first Soul Food song. My favorite part of the track is probably the flip of the first line on the first Soul Food, where instead of saying “Goddamn, goddamn, conversations with legends, Crazy how one day your idols can turn into your brethren”, he says “Goddamn, goddamn, conversations with people, Crazy how one day, the legends forget that they equal”

The second half of the song is Logic talking about this whole overarching story that’s been going on across his albums. While it may be cool to someone who’s super invested in that part of Logic’s career to hear this, I never much cared for the whole story aspect of his albums, so I didn’t really get much out of it. Still, though, Logic has a great delivery and flow throughout that entire part, and the beat is nice enough to the point where I can still thoroughly enjoy it.

The track Perfect is a fun banger in the tracklist, with some trap-style hi hats, loud kicks, and 808 cowbell melodies. Logic sounds zany, funny, and confident on the track, and my only real complaint about the song is that it’s only 1:40.

After that track, we get two more lowkey cuts, man i is and DadBod. The track man i is is a track that I have mixed feelings about. While I do appreciate the instrumental on the song, the song feels a bit long-winded, with the horn sections taking up an extremely long amount of time. Additionally, I feel like Logic could’ve done a little bit better with the lyrics here. While I most certainly like them, it doesn’t really seem like Logic truly hits any super salient realization about who he is, and the track kind of devolves into rambling at a certain point. The track DadBod is a track that I like much more. The drums on this track are probably my favorite part of the instrumental, as I just find the way they hit and all sound to be extremely satisfying. While the track has a painfully simple chord progression in the sample, it’s more than made up for by the catchy chorus on the song, as well as the lyrics on this song. While some might find the song a bit annoying, it’s rare to see someone like Logic admit how truly boring some aspects of his life are now that he is a dad, rapping about cleaning baby shit and complaining about the bad hotel wifi when he’s touring, and I find seeing this part of the song to be really admirable.

After those two tracks, there’s a much-needed pickup with the track 5 Hooks. While I think the song’s decent, I feel like there isn’t really all that much to the track. There’s not many quotables that I can remember from it, and while the beat is fine, it’s certainly not one of the best on the project.

The track Dark Place is honestly one of my favorites on the album. While the instrumental is very stark, I think Logic lays down one of his best verses on this song, talking about his mental health and a lot of things that are honestly really sad to hear. I really love the message of the song, admitting that you are sad and realizing that it’s ok- everyone gets sad from time to time.

After that is probably the worst track on the album, A2Z, which is an ABC rap. It’s one of the only songs on the album with an instrumental I genuinely dislike, and the lyrics aren’t all that impressive either.

The song Heard Em Say is another highlight on the album, with one of my favorite instrumentals. There’s a huge Kanye influence that I hear on this song, whether that be the drum pattern of the instrumental, or a lot of the inflections that Logic uses during his verses.

Overall, I’m really happy with this album. Do I think it’s going to convince any Logic haters to appreciate his music? No. Do I think this is going to go down as one of the greatest hip hop albums of all time? No. However, this is still a very quality release from an artist that has always had the potential to release something this good. It’s nice to see Logic happy in retirement, and I love this record lots. I don’t think he could have released a better sendoff to his career than this.

8.7/10

Favorite Tracks: No Pressure Intro, Hit My Line, GP4, Celebration, Open Mic//Aquarius III, Soul Food II, Perfect, DadBod, Dark Place, Heard Em Say

Least Fav Track: A2Z

#music blog #music #logic #no pressure #music review

4 notes · View notes

claritoxprobuy · 3 years

Text

Claritox Pro - Reviews and Scams?

Claritox Pro Reviews – Does It Work or Real Scam Complaints?

Claritox Pro is a completely plant-based enhancement that can help you address medical problems, explicitly dizziness, or as some depict it, a sensation of tipsiness, and can make you become lopsided and shaky.

As you age, a few unexpected issues may happen. Indeed, even the littlest of things strange may prompt more unexpected issues. For instance, something as straightforward as feeling lightheaded may demonstrate a basic reason that conceivably may prompt constant ailments.

Dizziness is really viewed as a manifestation as opposed to a condition itself and might be an early indication of different complexities. In basic terms, dizziness is an unsteady vibe that feels like your general surroundings is turning/spinning. These mixed up spells are simultaneous with individuals who experience the ill effects of dizziness.

There are a few reasons for dizziness and meds, aggravation in the cerebrum, anti-microbials, poisonous development, and surprisingly the start of tinnitus. What's more, wooziness may prompt a few different entanglements. Concerning medicines for dizziness, there are many medicines accessible, yet it shocks no one that they are costly, and not every person can bear the cost of them. Similarly, drugs are accessible, however they may not suit everybody, and they also can be really costly.

There are regular enhancements accessible to help you address the problem of dizziness; nonetheless, only one out of every odd enhancement satisfies its cases. A few enhancements utilize manufactured fixings and different synthetic substances to expand the power of their enhancements, yet those fixings can prove to be unsafe after some time.

Another enhancement that is 100% normally made, utilizing clinically examined fixings, is called Claritox Pro. This enhancement was intended to assist with resolving the problem of dizziness and its indications. Also, a huge number of individuals the nation over have utilized the plant-based Claritox Pro and discovered positive outcomes.

What is Claritox Pro?

As referenced above, Claritox Pro is an enhancement that will assist you with conquering dizziness and its indications. Best of all, it does this; normally, there are no manufactured fixings or synthetic compounds used to make this enhancement. All things being equal, according to the authority site, Claritox Pro just uses normally happening plant-based fixings.

In light of this element, Claritox Pro as of now stands apart from the majority of the enhancements accessible on the lookout. What's more, this makes it totally protected to burn-through.

Claritox Pro is a clinically proven dietary enhancement that successfully decreases the development of poisons in your mind and platelets.

Claritox Pro has without a doubt been assessed on numerous occasions to find how every part adds to the viability of Claritox Pro, just as the segments are illustrated here depending on those logical examinations. Our bodies' metabolic rate as we develop more established, our resistant framework debilitates, and our assimilation eases back down too.

These problems can prompt a huge number of new conditions, including debilitated bones, ligaments, tissues, cells, and different frameworks. What's more, as our bodies delayed down, toxins, germs, and infections enter our bodies, making huge mischief our synapses and body.

On the off chance that we eat all the more steadily, the mischief is probably going to be relieved. By the by, very few of the food varieties we eat these days are completely normal.

That is the issue. We should address the hurtful synapse irritation to fix the causative variables of dizziness and discombobulation issues.

Claritox Pro works by providing the most fundamental supplements and normal parts to the cells in the mind. At the point when the body is given the nourishment it requires, the body will begin feeling good, and mind mist will be a relic of days gone by. This technique is utilized in the treatment of dizziness. Therefore, Claritox Pro is presently the most famous dizziness product available right now.

How Does Claritox Pro Work?

Claritox Pro is upheld by the logical rule of resolving the basic problem of a debilitated body's equilibrium framework. At whatever point our internal ear framework fizzles, tinnitus happens, or our mind's synapses don't convey exact signs.

With Claritox Pro, you can dispose of the multitude of poisons in your body, and you will quickly begin feeling much improved. Besides, this enhancement likewise provides your body with the sustenance it needs to keep it solid.

All in all, Claritox Pro is an enhancement that provisions and improves your framework with an assortment of regular minerals and mixtures that have been displayed to promote prosperity.

Fixings Used To Make Claritox Pro?

As recently expressed, every one of the fixings utilized in the creation of this enhancement are normal. There are no engineered fixings or synthetic substances utilized. Every one of the fixings utilized have been sourced from their place of beginning, and are non-GMO, made in the USA, in a FDA approved and GMP guaranteed office,

>>>>Click here to buy the product..<<<<

to ensure that you get the most ideal outcome.

Recorded beneath are the 112mg proprietary mixed recipe and other crucial fixings utilized in the creation of Claritox Pro:

Zinc 11mg

Zinc gives your body an additional eruption of energy, and it likewise assists your body with retaining different supplements and minerals rapidly. Besides, it can diminish the odds of irritation in cells and the mind. Aside from this, it additionally reinforces our equilibrium framework, which is situated in our inward ears.

Green Tea 150mg

Green Tea is primarily used to diminish irritation in the gastrointestinal and platelets, which can be influenced by toxins and different substances. It additionally helps in the evacuation of nervousness, oxidative poisons, and stress. Dizziness, tipsiness, a debilitated equilibrium framework, and heaving are largely side effects that could be lightened with green tea and its segments.

Alpha Lipoic 150mg

As a cell reinforcement that diminishes aggravation and may improve the manifestations of specific sicknesses, proof shows that α-lipoic corrosive may animate or stifle the insusceptible framework and may help the body in battling malignancy, diseases, or different conditions. These impacts are for both versatile and inborn insusceptible frameworks.

Chromium 100mg

Numerous drug prescriptions contain chromium to hold the body's harmony back from moving. It mitigates sensations of disarray and emotional episodes, and diminishes choked course dividers, permitting blood to circle openly. Consolidating chromium into your suppers can help your framework in accomplishing an equilibrium in blood flow and limiting unsteadiness by improving your vestibular framework. At whatever point you rise suddenly, your body may lose its equilibrium.

Berberine 100mg

Berberine HCL is a calming and antibacterial compound that should assist with battling different diseases while likewise promoting general wellbeing. It ordinarily protects your body against contamination and the transmission of toxic substances to your blood and mind by safeguarding it from infections and microorganisms.

Resveratol 40mg

Numerous people are offered resveratrol to widen their confined veins, which helps your body improve blood and oxygen stream to various organs, including the mind, to help harmony and hearing wellbeing.

It is principally used to widen and release veins so your body gets satisfactory course and blood stream every day.

Milk Thistle

One of a few antiquated spices for treating weakened synapses incorporates milk thorn. Its dynamic fixings increment the adjusting framework by resuscitating synapses, tissue and promoting the neurological framework's prosperity. Milk Thistle is generally used to treat conditions with blood stream and guideline.

Cayenne

This is a kind of pepper that accompanies a few medical advantages. Here are a portion of the benefits cayenne has to bring to the table:

Helps assimilation.

Headache torment is alleviated.

Forestalls the arrangement of blood clumps.

Supports the detoxification process.

Agony in the joints and nerves is assuaged.

This pepper helps weight reduction.

It's anything but an enemy of aggravation.

Lift your metabolic rate.

Korean Ginseng

This fixing is known to provide your body with a huge jolt of energy. Likewise, it helps in restoring your body and assists it with disposing of the multitude of gathered poisons.

Banaba

Banaba is used to reinforce the adjusting framework by promoting metabolic switch action. This guarantees that your body processes and works appropriately.

These are the fixings utilized in the creation of this enhancement. Additionally, this enhancement is made in a FDA-approved office, and they likewise follow GMP (Good Manufacturing Practices). This hardens the way that this enhancement is protected to utilize.

Each jug contains 60 cases, contains no poisons, and is non-propensity framing. According to specialists, you ought to devour two cases each day with a dinner. Likewise, you should take it routinely as it assists your body with changing the progressions it will be going through.

Where To Buy Claritox Pro?

You can purchase this enhancement from the authority site, which isn't accessible elsewhere. This has been done to lessen the quantity of individuals succumbing to tricks and other phony arrangements.

Head over to their authority site to get it. Here are the valuing alternatives accessible:

One container – $69 + Free Shipping

Three Bottles – $177 + Free Shipping

Six Bottles – $294 + Free Shipping

https://ipsnews.net/business/2021/07/03/peak-bioboost-1-prebiotic-supplement-legit-or-scam-ingredients-and-price-for-sale/

https://ipsnews.net/business/2021/07/01/claritox-pro-scam-or-legit-shocking-side-effects-exposed/

2 notes · View notes

margridarnauds · 4 years

Note

Your "Grace O'Malley" tag is extremely gratifying--it's so nice to see actual scholarship. So with that in mind: Have you read Morgan Llwelyn's novel, and if so, what do you have to say on it?

Hi! Thank you so much! I’m glad you like it; it can feel a little bit like I’m shouting into the wind, given that Gráinne is one of my more niche focuses. I still kind of want to do something that actually looks at the EVIDENCE, but I digress.

Morgan Llewelyn….I have mixed feelings about. I last really looked into this book when I was toying with doing my undergrad Capstone Thesis on Donal O’Flaherty, about….4 years ago, now. Time really does fly. So, I forced myself into a refresher, just to remind myself what I missed.

[warning for references to rape, incest, and some of the most Cursed™ lines I’ve ever been forced to read in my life, and that’s including the zombie blowjob scene.]

Final Verdict: 2.5/5 - DEFINITELY not the worst retelling of Gráinne’s life (I’ve seen....Things), but also not the best, either, and with some very, very glaring flaws that make it impossible for me to really enjoy.

My main take away from it is that…as far as its depiction of Gráinne, it did about as well as its source material. I can tell, looking at it and reading it, that she really looked hard at Anne Chambers’ book. Which is unfortunate because, as I’ve made……………relatively clear over the years, I think that it’s very, deeply flawed. And, unfortunately, Llewlyn stuck rather close to the book, leaving in things like Donal’s “murder" of Walter Fada Burke (if the patronymic don’t fit, you’ve got to acquit), Sexist™ Incompetent™ Donal™, and…..Hugh de Lacy, which, in my personal opinion, owe more to Chambers lack of critical reading of her own sources than they do to the historical record. ESPECIALLY Hugh de Lacy because…the name. Very odd that one of the major Anglo-Norman officials should share a name with Gráinne Ní Mháille’s boytoy. Very odd. Especially given that the pattern of “Love interest of Gráinne’s killed off/Gráinne seeks revenge” is VERY similar to what we hear of the Defense of Hen’s Castle. Almost as if they come from the same story.

This also leads us to the scene where Donal tries to rape Gráinne in her sleep which, honestly, I loathe with every fibre of my being. Nope, nope. Hate it. Hate. It. Oh, God, I forgot about the references to Donal!Incest. Why is this a mini-genre of Gráinne Ní Mháille historical fiction. Why. I can think of at least…..2-3 books that do this. Why God. Why.

Lest anyone think that this is the Donal fangirl in me jumping out, in general, I feel like Llewelyn’s treatment of most of the characters is ultimately paper-thin. Richard Burke is also given this treatment and, while I wouldn’t REALLY expect a sympathetic Richard Bingham (nor would I particularly want one - I’ve spent a lot of quality time reading his complaints and cackling), even HE’S done a disservice.

On a technical level, I don’t REALLY like how she handles the timeline, it jumps around a little too much for my taste. We’re treated to constant flashbacks with little warning, including ones that could have been just as easily folded into the timeline proper. And, while Llewelyn has a rich, descriptive style, she also writes an, honestly, impressive number of lines that will haunt me for all the wrong reasons. I’ve detailed a lot of them under the readmore, but some highlights:

She had gazed in wonder at the child—his perfect ears and fingers, the miniature penis that would eventually become a mighty rod for transmitting further life.” This is, I’m sure, what every mother thinks when she sees her newborn son’s penis for the first time. Why. Why God. Why. Why. Why.

Okay, another candidate for Cursed Lines: "Richard noted the high color in her cheeks, and saw how her nipples stood out strongly under the soft fabric of her gown.” If this were a male author, I would be-Nah, it’s still bad. It’s just bad writing, I’m sorry. In general, I found that she massively sexed up Gráinne’s life, for no real reason that I can tell except for that it felt almost like she felt like it was necessary to prove that Gráinne was a Real Woman™? There’s a very....odd way that her sex life is treated, and it grates on me. We have to deal with Donal, Richard, Huw(uwu), Philip Sydney, and Tigernan, all in the course of one book and, honestly, I don’t really CARE about Gráinne’s sexcapades, and they’re generally written with so little development or feeling, even and especially in the case of her GREAT LOVE HUW, that I found myself actively groaning. My take on Gráinne, at least the Gráinne that I know in the sources, is almost asexual. I don’t deny that she had sex. She obviously did. (FOUR CHILDREN.) And I think that she might very well have enjoyed it. (Not that there’s enough evidence to KNOW.) But I also think that she was a profoundly pragmatic woman who didn’t fixate on it that much. Again, I could be wrong! When we have as little as we have to go on as we do with her, it’s impossible to know! But I just do not see her as jumping into bed with guys that often, especially not in cases where there was no clear benefit. There’s this...trend, where Gráinne HAS to have a love interest, in every major adaptation of her life, because it’s almost like people are afraid to have her without the anchor of sex and romance. (For what it’s worth - I do think, simply because of the amount of time that they spent together + the fact that they did have at least three children with one another, that Donal was probably her favorite of her two spouses. I don’t KNOW this, because I can’t. The evidence isn’t there. I don’t know whether they loved one another, whether it was a great romance, whether the sex was good, or even if it was just a mild affection, but I do lean towards him, even if I can’t say that he was the Great Love of Her Life™. I think they complimented one another’s lifestyles quite nicely, and that’s all that I can really give.)

Llewelyn also has a very, very obvious bias against Catholicism that ultimately makes me wonder whether she ever meant to engage with 16th century Ireland on its own terms. As an atheist in Celtic Studies....look, I can GET having many, many mixed feelings about Catholicism, but it WAS the religion of the land at the time. If you want to have ANY understanding of the people and what was going through their minds, you have to try to engage with them on their own terms. I’m not in any hurry to convert to Catholicism, but I do try to consider life through the eyes of medieval and early modern Catholics when I’m analyzing sources made in that time. And trying to separate it off from the Good Pagan Times, to the point of creating a 16th century druid woman to voice your opinions on free love/organized religion/etc. is just going to get you into disaster. (Though Evleen did give us one female character who is a friend to Gráinne, so...victory?) Bonus, by the way, for the Evil Priest who schemes against Gráinne and is fucking boys on the side. (It seems like they’re of age, at least?) We’re told that he has reasons for what he does, but it comes as a bit of a last minute attempt at creating the illusion of a three dimensional character. I feel like Llewelyn, ultimately, should have stuck to Pre-Patristic times. I shudder at what she would do with, say, the Mythological Cycle, I don’t particularly want her touching my baby (if she touched Bres in particular, I would probably cry) because, at this point, I don’t trust her with ANY medieval materials (mainly because they’ve all been CONTAMINATED by CATHOLIC HANDS, oh NO), but I feel like it’s where her heart truly is.

IF she’d stuck with pre-Patristic sources, we wouldn’t have to deal with 16th century characters thinking things like: " He would go in the style of his warrior ancestors, fearless in the face of death; the ancient, pagan Gaels had known death was only a brief incident in the ongoing flow of life, a transitory happening of little importance.” Admittedly, Llewelyn herself SEEMS to realize this, as she has him cross himself afterwards, but I really, really don’t think it would be the sort of thing to cross a man’s mind in the Early Modern Period. There was very little evidence for reincarnation that was that explicit (One of the papers that I did was on the existence of reincarnation in Pre-Christian Ireland, so I actually CAN speak on this one with some degree of confidence - My ultimate findings were that it probably did exist in some form, but the evidence makes it hard at times to draw definite conclusions), and I’m not sold that they would…understand it as reincarnation, as SUCH. We can look at what, say, Julius Caesar wrote about the druids’ beliefs and apply them to medieval Irish texts, but a man living in 16th century Ireland wouldn’t necessarily have the same luxury, especially since relatively few figures are given reincarnation narratives. It’s like…she’s applying the Mythological Cycle, but she momentarily forgets that these characters wouldn’t have VIEWED the Mythological Cycle like we would have, and it’s rather jarring. No one else might pick up on that, because this is my field. This is the ONE THING I can be pedantic on.

Now! There are some things I actually do like! Outside of Chambers’ questionable grasp of historical interpretation and the resulting taint, I can tell that Llewlyn did have a solid grasp of the FEEL of Early Modern Ireland. As I noted above, she’s a very fine author, the kind I honestly ENVY as a historical fiction writer, the type that is so confident and descriptive that, even when she’s wrong, which is often, I find myself reaching for the sources just to make sure. Her descriptions are vivid and visceral, pulling me immediately into the FEEL of Ireland in the 16th century, a way of life on the verge of collapse.

When she isn’t being descriptive in all the wrong ways as detailed above. I do feel, for whatever it’s worth, that as someone with the background in this material that I have, I was kind of doomed from the get-go. I THINK that for someone who isn’t a Celticist (in training), it would be much, much more enjoyable, BECAUSE she is so confident in her style and her way of evoking the mood that it wouldn’t really stick out. I happen to be both blessed and cursed in that regard.

It’s clear, as well, that she has a grasp on the literature of the time - References to the things like the first Gaels coming from Spain make my heart SING with joy because it’s a very clear allusion to Lebor Gabála Érenn and the Mythological Cycle, which is my specialty, and there are plenty of times that I can tell you EXACTLY what sources she had to hand while she was typing on a section. It’s just a pity to me that she seems to try so hard to toss it all away in order to bifurcate Early Modern Irish society into Pagan VS Catholic, since she fundamentally did betray her own sources there. And, unfortunately, the way she tends to show her research is about as subtle as a blunt nail, in a very “As you know” manner: See: “I have heard the brehons chanting the laws governing fosterage, describing every article of clothing that must be furnished a child and every detail of the training the child is to be given.” Like, yes, the law texts record this, but I can’t really see someone from the 16th century SAYING it that bluntly, you know? Also, I’m not really sold that they would be chanting it out loud as a ritual thing, rather that a lot of the law tracts are in a simple Question/Answer format because it would have, presumably, made it simpler for the Brehons THEMSELVES to remember that way.

I do like that Llewlyn’s Gráinne…she’s attractive, yes, but she’s not conventionally attractive, and she’s explicitly said to be big and tall as a man. I feel like a lot of pop cultural depictions of Gráinne want to make her dainty and beautiful, despite living in an incredibly harsh, stressful environment. I think that her outfit’s a little too much “Modern pirate”-y for my taste, but I’ll allow it because, tbh, it looks really, really badass and, whatever clothing Gráinne would have worn, we probably wouldn’t have really recognized it as “Pirate-like”, since our vision of pirates in the modern day is mainly an early 18th century one. I do appreciate that Gráinne has that hard, pragmatic edge that I respect in the Gráinne that we read about in the State Papers and in Bingham’s recollections - a very matter of fact, no nonsense woman who would do whatever it took to survive. Though I do think that she probably didn’t really spend that much time thinking about Elizabeth. It seems slightly unrealistic to me that, knowing how pragmatic Gráinne was, that she would really, really concern herself that much with Elizabeth, especially when she would have had powerful women like Iníon Dubh closer to home. There are some really nice, poignant moments as well that the hard edge masks, like the moment where she asks after a piece of hair that sent on to her son Owen. When Gráinne is in her natural element, having fun on the open sea, taking vengeance, and getting to be angry and proud and fierce, as well as the moments where she shows a softer side....those are the moments that make it for me. But then we’re back to the sex and romance, to the point where the book is literally divided by which man she’s screwing at the time.

Also, despite wanting to LOATHE Tigernan, as an OC love interest of Gráinne’s, I did find myself warming to him, as he has a nice, laid-back dynamic with Gráinne built on trust and filled with plenty of banter. Next to her, he is probably the single best developed character in the book, though, unfortunately, he does get it through a ton of space devoted to his thoughts, his pining for Gráinne, and his intense jealousy for the many times she chooses someone else over him (mainly because he never tells her he loves her and then he feels like she owes him for what he does for her - yes, there are some Nice Guy tendencies here, but, honestly, after about the second or third time this happened, I was very pro-Tigernan running away and finding a better gig for himself.) No, besides being Catholic and lower class, we don’t really have that MUCH on him outside of being Gráinne’s first mate, but, honestly....that’s still more characterization than the others get, and, at least as of Chapter 24, he hasn’t done anything TOO atrocious.

My PETTIEST of bitching/impromptu liveblog beneath the cut:

A VERY pedantic thing: Llewelyn says, multiple times, that the English would anglicize her name “Grace”. In reality, no one in Early Modern England did that, it came much, much later. In all the Letters of State, she’s referred to as “Grany” or a variation of that name - An English attempt at “Gráinne.” That’s also why you’ll notice that I tend to refer to her as Gráinne here - It was the name she was known by in her own time, it was the name her contemporaries called her, and so it’s the name I call her.

"He wore a full and drooping mustache in the old Gaelic style, though otherwise he was cleanshaven.” Again. MINOR nitpicking. The Gauls were the ones who, traditionally, we associate with the droopy mustaches. In the sagas, beards are given a TON of prominence, to the point of being the marker of being a man. So. Odd choice on Tigernan’s part there. I know that Llewelyn didn’t intend to write him as a 16th century Irish coxcomb, but…well.

"He realized he had made a bad mistake in referring to her peculiar relationship with her husband. He had been in the castle at Bunowen himself; he had seen with his own eyes that Grania’s belongings were taken to one bedchamber, and Donal O Flaherty’s were put in another. Many might speculate in private about the arrangement, but only a fool would have mentioned it to her face.” As I’ve mentioned before, I really, really don’t think this relationship was as loveless as it’s generally portrayed as. I don’t know whether they were PASSIONATELY in love (and unlike a certain biographer, I won’t try to fill in what I don’t know with what I WANT her to have had), maybe they simply got on, but they did have three LIVING children. And I underline “living” because there were likely more. “Likely more” means that they probably did regularly share a bed, at least as much so as their respective schedules allowed.

“Aye, and didn’t she put her children out to fostering before they could stand? A woman’s not usually that anxious to get away from her children that she takes to the sea to avoid them.” Given that fosterage could begin VERY early, I really, really don’t think anyone would have questioned this at all. Gaelic Ireland, simply put, often didn’t have our own conception of the nuclear family, and this was generously provided for in the law codes. Fosterage was useful as a way of maintaining ties between both neighboring families and, most especially, between kings and their vassals, with vassals often fostering kings’ sons. (That way, if the king should die with multiple possible heirs, it means that the kids have people backing them for the kingship.)

"I think that husband of hers had been crying poverty so loud and long he made her deaf to everything else” - Not to be #TeamDonal on main, but the facts as they’re recorded tend to have a strong pro-Donal bias. Take the words of his 17th century relative, Ruari O’Flaherty: "Of all the western O'Flaherties, Donel an chogaidh , although not the chieftain, was the most powerful and opulent.” Most. Powerful. And. Opulent. Yeah, Donal wasn’t crying poverty to anyone. Could he have been lying through his teeth? Maybe. Who knows? But this is ONE thing we have on Donal’s personality, recorded not too long after he died, by a historian who would have had close access to O’Flaherty sources. I believe him. And, I’d even be willing to commit the ultimate heresy and say that Donal’s success was not due entirely to his wife.

She does use the proper terms in a few places! Such as “rechtaire” for “steward”. (Io stem, masculine.)

“You are a noble Irishwoman, you go to no man’s bed unless you want to.” COMPLICATED. Arranged marriages were definitely the norm, and, in the legends, we get to see the unfortunate downsides of what happens when a woman is coerced into a marriage she doesn’t want, generally by an older man, while she is generally pining over a younger one. I wouldn’t say it was something that people LIKED, the fact that this entire genre exists is a pretty good example of people being like “DON’T DO THIS SHIT”, but I can’t say it didn’t happen. Examples of this include Fingal Rónáin, Tóraigheacht Dhiarmada agus Ghráinne, Longes mac n-Uislenn, Aided Con Roí, etc. I would not say that it was considered to be an IDEAL, it was something that was definitely warned against, but it could, in theory, happen. It wasn’t necessarily a legal form of marriage, but it was a form of marriage.

"Shorter than Cuchullain or Brian Boru,” PETTIEST of pettiest bitch complaints, but Cú Chulainn is generally described as short. I know, I know, not what she’s going for. But still. Let me be a petty bitch on this one thing.

“Times have changed,” he said impatiently. “Those are archaic luxuries, and luxury has worn thin here. Perhaps in Umhall there is still leisure for sitting around listening to bards, but it takes every resource I can command just to maintain my territory against those who constantly nibble at my borders.” MOST. OPULENT. AND. POWERFUL. Okay, but one thing that she does get right, and is right to emphasize, is the importance of the bard - chieftain relationship. This was really, really one of the key relationships in a chieftain’s life, to the extent where one of the privileges of the chief ollaimh was the right to sleep with the king in his bed. And yes, it was EXACTLY as homoerotic as it sounds. For a chieftain to not keep a bard - It’s actually a really, really stupid move on Donal’s part, not just for the sake of tradition, but because…who’s going to be there to remember him and keep his memory alive? Who’s going to write praise poems for him (and for Gráinne! The chieftain’s wife was often celebrated in verse.)

"Grania had brought a handsome marriage portion with her, her own property under the Brehon law, for a woman of her rank must be able to stand on equal footing with her husband.” Accurate - Gráinne would have, most likely, been a cétmuinter, or chief wife, under the law, and her union to Donal would have been a union of equal contribution. (Donal also might or might not have owed her a “Thank you for your virginity!” Present on their wedding night.)

“The priests are right in giving husbands authority over their wives,” he had shouted at her then, while she pleaded to be allowed to keep her babies with her longer. “The old Gaelic way gave women too much freedom altogether, and you are a fine example of the folly of that custom.” Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now, kill me now. This is just….GAR. GAR. Or, as Llewlyn likes to say every five seconds…*Dar Dia*. Suffice it to say, the question of how much freedom post-Christianity Ireland had for women VS Pre-Christian Ireland is an endlessly long topic that has to begin with how we define “freedom” and, specifically, which women get it. (Sucks to be a slave girl no matter what.) But also, while women definitely DID have power (EVEN POST-CHRISTIANITY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH)…that doesn’t mean that it was that COMMON, or that post-Christianity radically changed how (un)common it was. This is just…too blunt, too much of a caricature, and also happens to be insanely, insanely anachronistic. (Also: What would a 16th century chieftain really KNOW of the Old Gaelic Way? He would know about women like Medb, yeah, and he would probably see her as evil and uppity, depending on which stories he’d read - Though as a Connachtman, he would probably be inclined towards being on her side. But that doesn’t mean he would have really thought “Oh, yeah, pre-Christianity, women had SO MUCH power.” Lawlessness and chaos tend to be features of pre-Christian Ireland in the medieval writings, but I wouldn’t really say that liberated women….were? Especially because in those same writings you have women like Emer who, while distinct in their characterization, are still very much proper and chaste women who keep to the house.)

“I warn you, Grania—you will accede to me in this or I will send you back to Clew bay and denounce you throughout Connaught for a lack of womanly graces. Is that what you want, to be sent home rejected with your shortcomings shouted from the hills?”

“Who would believe such charges?” she had demanded to know, outraged at his unfairness.”

I’m just going to say it now: She could sue him SO MUCH in a proper Brehon court if she could get some witnesses to say that they heard him talking shit without cause. So. So much. So. Much. Donal would be losing a solid chunk of his goods. Though I will point out that, technically, since Gráinne isn’t sleeping with him, she isn’t doing her proper duties as a wife, laid out by the Brehon laws, and so, yeah, he could probably have a case against her. (For what it’s worth: If he was refusing to sleep with her, she could ALSO divorce him, with him explicitly being at fault and having to pay up. It was equal opportunity, in that sense.)

The Brehon law keeps being called “pagan” and…no. No non noon no. It had its origins in pre-Christian Ireland, likely, and that’s why a ton of legal scholars, with a few noted exceptions, tend to be strongly Nativist, but that doesn’t mean that, by Gráinne’s time, it hadn’t been more or less adapted into Christian marriage in Ireland, albeit sometimes semi-awkwardly. (For example: Polygamy was allowed, but the law very much privileged the rights of chief wives, including their right to toss their husbands out on their ear for taking in a woman over their head.) There’s this odd obsession in the book with Brehon Law =/= Christian Law, and that’s definitely not the case. You wouldn’t have had two marriage ceremonies, one under the church and one under the Brehon Law, because the Brehon Law would apply no matter WHAT. It’d be like forcing a couple to undergo a ceremony after their official wedding where a bunch of lawyers read out of a law book to them. It just wouldn’t happen.

“The Augustinian monks of Umhall, who taught me history in my childhood, explained that when the Romans left England and that land sank into barbarism, it was missionaries from Ireland who took God’s words to the British tribes and taught them to read and write.

“Perhaps they hate us, Donal, for being a more ancient and educated race. Perhaps they mean to drag us down by treating us as savages until we do not remember ever having been anything else. And along the way they can take our land from us with a clear conscience because we are only savages and deserve no better.”

On one hand, it DOES capture that note of PRIDE that tends to be there, loud and clear, in the texts, especially, say, Auraicept na n-Éces, which claims that Irish is a perfectly formed language, made from all the best bits of the Tower of Babel’s languages. (And….well….”The land of saints and scholars”. Ireland WAS a hotspot of monastic activity.) And, honestly, I support showing off the literary side of Ireland, since it doesn’t get discussed enough. That being said, no monk in his right mind would have said that it Irish missionaries civilized Britain. Why? Because Patrick came from Britain. Or, rather, Britannia, more accurately. He wasn’t an Englishman, not in the modern sense, he would probably be Welsh today, but he was from a monastic, educated family (despite claiming his Latin was poor in his Confessio, it’s actually quite good - Patrick was a MASTER at using humility as a rhetorical device).

"Grania slept naked. She liked her skin to breathe as she slept, not encumbered with a gown that would twist and bind.” “And then Gráinne froze her ass off because the nights in Ireland, even in the warm heat of summer, are cold and bitter as a Norseman’s frozen tit, if there were, in fact, any Norsemen in Ireland in the 16th century, and frequently require multiple blankets + a solid duvet. Gráinne then died of pneumonia several weeks later, making for a very short book.” Also. Again. If this were a male author. I would have committed a murder at this point.

Reference to saffron dye - NICE. This was really a staple of the clothing, for both men and women, to the extent that it features a LOT in accounts of Ireland at this time.

“By the paps of Danu!” No one. In 16th century Ireland. Would have shouted out “By the paps of Danu!” “By the Washington Monument!” “By the Lincoln Memorial!” “By the stunning cliffs of Oregon!” Sounds rather silly, doesn’t it? (Though if you WANTED to start shouting “BY THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL!” Well. I’m not here to stop you.)

"She was small for a Gaelic woman, and pale, a tiny wraithlike creature who exuded a contradictory air of resilient strength.” I’m not going to say that Chambers is WRONG, because, of course, Irish women come in a variety of shapes and sizes. You know, like people everywhere. But I WILL say that, during my time here, it’s the only time in my life that I’ve felt at home, because, for the first time in my life, I’m not short. Also, I want it on the record that now, whenever I see her, I’m picturing the little old woman who sits in on research seminars and who has the entire department scared shitless. Tiny, but MIGHTY.

"Her only ornament was a triskele of silver in an ancient pattern, suspended upon her flat bosom by a leather thong.” The Triskele is a Neolithic symbol used through the Iron Age, DEFINITELY not in use, in Ireland, by the Early Modern Period.

"“Evleen Ni Brien-“ That would be “Ní Bhriain” in modern Irish. Normally, I wouldn’t be THIS nitpicky, but hey, if you’re patting yourself on the back for the research you did and then can’t be bothered to put in a fada + the proper possessive form of “Brian”. I also don’t THINK that the “Ní” form had been adopted yet, I’m fairly certain that’s modern, so it would, more properly, be Evleen iníon Bhriain. Though, since it emphasizes that she’s from the Dál Cais and the O’Briens are predominately associated with them, I’m going to GUESS the proper form would involve her father’s name. It would be “Evleen iníon *possessive form of father’s first name* Uí Briain”.

"He had only heard whispers of such people, but enough tales still abounded concerning them to make them readily identifiable—even if this one did claim the noble name O Brien.” You know, in Reign, when you have a bunch of druids dancing in the forest and everyone was like “That’s fucking ridiculous!” Yeah. Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel right now. Druids DID last for some time in Ireland after Christianity, but not INTO THE 16TH CENTURY.

"“Of course not. But neither can I forget that it was the strictures of that faith which kept me bound in marriage to a man I learned to despise.” Divorce was still a thing. There was no problem, in theory, with getting married at a fully Catholic altar and then dumping them for getting jiggy with the serving girls a few years down the line. Llewelyn’s misunderstanding of the relationship that the Church and the Brehon laws BOTH played in the lives of people (SHOCKINGLY ENOUGH, the Catholic Church was NOT seen as pure evil by every day people at the time, who had to flee into the arms of the Brehons for comfort from Mother Church. Note that I’m saying this as a confirmed and strong atheist.)

Can I just say that the scene where Gráinne’s feeling up Hugh (the OC) in his sleep would be MUCH creepier if the genders were reversed?

"But he was not the man he had always been. He was some different person here.” Wow, the sex must be REALLY good!

"set in violet shadows that spoke of wonderfully sleepless nights.” Why is it that when I stay up doing an all-nighter, I end up looking like a raccoon going through its emo phase, but when Gráinne tumbles some random dude for a little while, she gets “violet shadows?” It’s not right, I tell you.

"“Was your marriage so bad, Grania, that you have turned your back on your own womanhood forever?” GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Well. Now I know where The Pirate Queen gets its “Your ultimate worth as a woman and happiness in life is decided by whether or not you have a dick in you” philosophy. I wish I hadn’t known. But now I do.

“That’s the way it is with men,” he said. “They touch us. For the feel of strong arms around her and a solid chest to lean her head upon, a woman will put up with a lot of misery. It’s the curse of our skin to be hungry for the feel of a man’s skin.” GAAAAAAAAH. GAH.

"God the benevolent patriarch promises us rewards in the next world if we’re willing to sacrifice in this one. But maybe I don’t believe in patriarchs anymore.” Totally a thing that the real Gráinne Ní Mháille would have thought. Because women, in general, in the 16th century had the terminology to make these critiques in this exact way.

" If one satisfaction was snatched from her she would find another; if she lost love she would embrace hate, and glory in it.” Oh, god, not THIS motivation for a female character, please. Gráinne Ní Mháille was a hell raiser from birth, there’s no reason to think that, because she lost her boytoy, that really radically altered her life path.

“I wonder if Tigernan thinks you and I are damned,” she asked her husband. “We were wed in no chapel.” Given that there were nine degrees of marriage under the law, of varying types of legality, I doubt it.

Yay, exactly what this book needed: More sex!

I’ll be real: Richard Bingham playing Weddingcrashers at Margaret’s wedding only to nearly get his ass handed to him by two members of Gráinne’s family is truly an #Iconic moment. 10/10, if the rest of the book was like this I could die a happy woman.

"It was not an Irish face, but the eyes were unforgettable.” ….what is an “Irish face?” Especially post-Norman invasion? What does an Irish face look like?

“There are rumors he gained his inheritance by murder, and it is said outright that he and his mother between them drove his first wife into her grave.” Yay, the return of the Oedipus complex! My favorite thing in this book!

"Grania herself slept alone in a tiny walled guest chamber above, but she was aware of Richard sleeping in the same house. A strong man, sleeping naked in a bed … .

How people change, she thought to herself with amusement. This is definitely not the same Grania whom Donal an Chogaidh knew.”

Yay, MORE sex! MY FAVORITE THING. IN THE WORLD. BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS WHEN I READ THE LIFE OF GRÁINNE NÍ MHÁILLE?"**MORE SEX**.”

" If Richard took her at all, he must take her under the old Gaelic concept of “marriage for one year certain” to see if they suited one another.” Ah, yes, the old Gaelic concept of marriage that mysteriously shows up in no legal texts, legends, or genealogical tracts. A very authentic Gaelic tradition, very old, much wow. (For what it’s worth….the Telltown marriages are as close as this comes, but the thing that makes them stand out is that everyone KNEW they were the oddballs.)

"According to pagan custom—which still lived in uneasy truce with Christianity in many parts of Ireland—there were ten degrees of marriage, all the way from a union between propertied partners of equal rank to union by abduction or the mating of the mad. From any of the ten a child could result, and the brehons therefore had allowed for every child’s rights to be recognized by the social order. No human containing an immortal spirit could be illegitimate.” The astonishing thing is that it’s very, very obvious that she read Cáin Lanamna for this…and then proceeded to not apply it to any other time except for when it was necessary.

"How can I be Grania if there is no Tigernan at my shoulder?” Yes, because we all know that the thing that really defined Gráinne Ní Mháille was, in fact, the men in her life.

"Evleen smiled. “At least it isn’t fettered with Christian chains,” she said. “You were wise.”” Oh, God help me. There’s no way to have a marriage in Early Modern Ireland not “fettered with Christian chains” because Christianity IS the religion of the people.

Remember when Gráinne was described as “More than master’s mate” to Richard Burke, implying a union that was mutually respectful? Yeah, me neither. I’m so glad he’s a one dimensional sexist with mommy issues. That’s such a new, innovative take on their relationship. I LOVE to see it. (Note: I’m saying this as someone who HATED Chambers’ blatant shipping in her biography, but hey. I can’t deny what the first hand evidence says. Unlike Chambers.)

" I’ll get the O Lee—he’s our ship’s physician, and at least he can-“ Unless the chieftain of the O’Lee family moonlights as a ship’s doctor, you wouldn’t call him The O’Lee. Just say “I’ll get Aidan O’Lee.” Or, even, “I’ll get the ship’s leech!”

“TAKE THIS FROM UNCONSECRATED HANDS.” I won’t say that all’s forgiven because, I’ll be honest, I really, really hate this novel at this point, but you know what? This forgives at least some of this novel’s sins. One of my favorite tales about her being brought to life on page by a very talented author does make for a high point, between this and Gráinne avenging the boytoy.

Okay, I’ll be real: The O’Donnell and Gráinne boasting about their respective kids is really, really cute, and I accept it because my very first exposure to Early Modern Ireland was “The Fighting Prince of Donegal.”

The O’Donnell talking shit about English poetry is…..very accurate to the time and the mood. My personal favorite genre of Early Modern Irish poetry is probably “The English aren’t shit.”

"Black Hugh nodded. Grania stood up, and Philip Sidney rose with her, as smoothly as if they were joined at the hip. Tigernan uttered a strangled curse. The sasanach was taking hold of Grania’s arm as if she were an old woman and he were a blackthorn stick for her to lean upon! Was that some English custom, insulting the strength of women? Or did he mean to grab her and make off with her?” Honestly, for once, Tigernan is a #Mood.

"But when Philip’s hands moved over her body, Grania discovered that all human landscapes have a certain similarity. She knew his touch as male, and hungry, and when she returned it in kind she felt a familiar rising response that flattered her and made her eager for more. Within the bed they did not seem to be foreigner and Gael. They were just man and woman, enjoying each other.” I ENDURED THE SEX SCENE WITH PHILIP FUCKING SYDNEY. SO THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS TO.

And, just like with Richard, no one can match up to Wonderful Boytoy Huw.

"She prances along the seaways as if she had a man’s balls, John, and by the bright blue eyes of God, it should be my hand that grabs those balls of hers and crushes them.”” Oh, GOD, I THOUGHT THAT THE PIRATE QUEEN’S MOST INFAMOUS LINE WAS JUST BAD LYRIC WRITING. I DIDN’T KNOW THEY TOOK IT *FROM THE NOVEL*. WHY, MORGAN LLEWELYN. WHY.

Look, I’ve made it to Chapter 24. There are 32 in total. I COULD read the rest of the way, since I want to see how poorly the treatment of Elizabeth is going to be (I’d be very shocked if there isn’t some variation of Not Like Other Girls involved), but also: I do not care at this point. I might pick it up again, but also: A bitch is tired. And illiterate. Perhaps, if I’m ever feeling brave, I’ll take on the last eight chapters, but for now: I’m calling it.

#long post #grace o'malley #gráinne ní mháille #chaos-yet-harmony

9 notes · View notes

littlepurinsesu · 4 years

Text

V Watches MagiReco - Episode 9 Review

*Spoilers for Magia Record Anime Episode 9*

I... have mixed feelings about this episode O___O While some parts were definitely well-done (like, REALLY well-done), there were some others that left me a bit underwhelmed and wanting something more?

Don’t get me wrong, by no means was it not a good episode, because it was. But I’m gonna try my hardest to pinpoint why I felt that while some parts were amazing, others really could have been done better.

The phone conversation with Iroha and AI had some top-notch imagery going on in the background. As expected of a PMMM spin-off, every single frame probably has some deep and profound symbolism if you really wanted to pause and analyse each one. There’s never a dull moment on screen; even when all that’s happening is a phone conversation, they know how to hold your attention by giving your eyes a feast with that amazingly trippy and surreal kind of art style that PMMM is known for.

I, too, was a bit disappointed that Madoka and Homura didn’t show up, and by the looks of it, they probably won’t be making their appearance during Sana’s arc at all, which makes yet another major deviation the anime has made. But it’s not that huge of a deal to me because I know they’ll appear at some other point and I’m sure they had their reasons for making this change (hopefully for something better!). I’m happy to let the new characters take the spotlight; I actually think it’s a better choice than constantly relying on the Holy Quintet to build hype and satisfy the fans, which could actually draw attention and focus away from the main plot sometimes. This is how I personally feel, at least ^^;;

That being said, although I didn’t mind Madoka and Homura not being there, I did have some issues with Iroha’s entrance into the Rumour. It just happened... way too quickly and suddenly? I expected a bit more dialogue between the characters, especially since Yachiyo’s expression and comment about jumping off the tower not killing magical girls should have been a big indicator that she knows something (wink wink). I think that might have been a good chance to foreshadow the reveal that comes with Chapter 6, and maybe add a bit more mystery to Yachiyo’s unrevealed past. But the biggest problem I had with this scene was the way Iroha jumped lol. She just... jumped. Like it was no big deal. And it was even weirder because she technically “fell” while reaching out to catch Lil’ Kyubey, but there was hardly any reaction xD She also happened to be in the middle of a sentence while talking to Yachiyo LOL clearly that “jump” wasn’t a planned or prepared one xD I just really felt like the dialogue wasn’t finished or something was cut somewhere in there? They were talking and suddenly down she goes. I know I probably sound extremely nitpicky and this is just a minor detail that doesn’t really make much difference to the story (none at all, in fact), but I just found her apathy somewhat unrealistic and strange, which broke the immersion for me during what should have been a very crucial and heart-pounding moment. Unless Iroha’s just super brave and isn’t afraid of heights at all? Maybe? xD

Anyway, back to the positive stuff! Sana’s backstory was depicted really well. Again, absolutely amazing visuals (I especially liked the use of shoes and dinosaurs). And Sana’s bond with AI was portrayed even better than in the game, in my opinion. It was the most heartwarming and bittersweet relationship, and it’s amazing to see how AI slowly changes in Sana’s company. By the way, their chess game with little puppies and kittens was adorable omg x) I’d love to write more on Sana and AI, but I don’t really have anything specific to say except that I just really, really loved how their relationship was portrayed. Definitely the best part about this week’s episode.

And now comes my biggest complaint: Alina’s debut. As one of the most popular and interesting MagiReco characters, I’m sure the entire fandom was looking forward to how the anime would go about introducing her. I don’t know if I just set my expectations too high or anything, but her entrance was extremely underwhelming for me. And a lot of the reasons were exactly the same as my dissatisfaction with Iroha’s jump: too rushed and too many missed opportunities. She just kind of appeared out of nowhere, and while I do appreciate the “shock value”, what annoyed me was the lack of of a proper “introduction” she got. AI stated her name, and Iroha questioned if she was a member of the Wings of Magius, but we didn’t get any answers. There was no explanation on who she was or what she was doing there, how she got in and what her relationship with AI was. Game players would know, of course, but I’m concerned that anime-only viewers will have no idea what’s going on and probably also have no idea that they just met one of the most important and popular characters of the franchise right now. Essentially, they’re just gonna be seeing a very flamboyant and crazy girl enter and wreck havoc but with no explanation about why she was doing what she was doing or what her connection was with the current situation and the bigger picture of the plot thus far. She just comes in and steals the spotlight, and while game players know that she definitely deserves the spotlight given who she is, anime-only viewers are probably going to be left wondering why this random green girl just came in, who the heck she is, and why everything is about her all of a sudden.

Another crucial piece of information that got lost in that very rushed and chaotic introduction was the fact that Alina actually used the word “Doppel”, which is the first time the term has been dropped in the anime. But again, no one even responded or reacted in any way (at least do the cliche thing where the protagonist repeats “Doppel?” or something LOL), but no she just keeps rambling on and yet another crucial piece of information is lost in the shuffle. What makes it possibly even more confusing is that her Doppel really doesn’t look like the Doppels we’ve seen so far; it could pass as her shooting random bits of paint-like oozy stuff instead, so I’m really struggling to see how anime-only viewers are going to make that connection and put the pieces together.

And if her entrance was underwhelming, then her “exit” was probably even worse lol. She just... disappears xD It’s quite anticlimactic considering how it looked like we were gearing up for Sana vs. Alina, and then she just suddenly gets kicked out lmao. I get that she’ll be back really soon, but it still felt way too abrupt? I think my main gripe about everything to do with Alina’s debut can be summed up in two words: too rushed. There’s so much about her character that’s interesting and vital to the story, but everything either gets glossed over really quickly or just dropped here and there with no response from the other characters. Even if they didn’t want to get into details right away, which is also fine, they could still have slowed down and built up some mystery and tension so that we’ll want to find out more about her because we’re interested and curious, and not because we have no idea what’s going on. Her appearance should have brought some answers to the questions raised throughout the story thus far, but instead she just brought more confusion and chaos lol.

But her entrance wasn’t all negative! They absolutely nailed her mannerisms. Basically everything that makes her so infamously crazy was delivered flawlessly. Her expressions, her movements, her voice, her speech, her word choice... she definitely entered with a BANG and she’s no doubt going to leave a deep impression on viewers, whether they understand her deal or not lol. The voice-acting was also top-notch, as expected of her seiyuu. Alina’s one of those characters where you really need to hear her speaking and see her moving to experience the full extent of her "charm”, and I’d say the anime definitely delivered in that respect and portrayed her uniqueness in a strong and memorable way, so props to them for that :D

^ I really wanted to use this image for this week’s review, but it’s technically Sana’s episode so I stuck with Sana xD Oh, and another thing I definitely loved about her entrance was hearing her saying so many of her lines from the game battles ^^

... Wow I just rambled and ranted for four whole paragraphs about Alina’s introduction, sheesus... Onto some other stuff now, shall we? ^^;;

One of the most interesting things to me about AI was how her appearance changes to become more and more like Sana. This is another example where the anime is able to illustrate things that the game isn’t capable of, and while I’m not sure if it’s a change or I simply missed it in the game because of the static AI sprite, I definitely liked this little detail. It not only shows how AI slowly becomes more and more human, but also highlights the fact that her form resembling Sana implies the influence that Sana has had on her. Sana is all AI has really ever known about humans and the “real” world, and all the human feelings and emotions she gains are because of Sana. It makes perfect sense that when she takes on a more human-like appearance, it’s going to resemble Sana in some respect. The little detail with the crown near the end was also really sweet ;___;

I really do think “mixed feelings” is the best way to describe my overall impression of this week’s episode xD Sana’s backstory and her relationship with AI had me in tears, but Iroha’s jump and Alina’s debut definitely had me raising my eyebrows a few times. I can overlook the Iroha part as just me being nitpicky over a trivial detail, but I really do hope that they step up their game with Alina next week. They definitely did her justice on a surface level, but in terms of her significance and relevance to the plot, not so much. She’s such an important character and her appearance marks a major plot point, so I hope we get the explanations and clarifications needed soon.

I have even higher expectations for next week, since not only is the showdown with Alina something I’ve been looking forward to for a while, but I’m also hoping that they “rectify” some of the issues this week lol. Fingers crossed that Alina gets some better writing, and they continue doing the amazing job they’ve done so far with Sana’s story! ^^

Sorry I’m so much more “negative” this week compared to how I usually am with my reviews, but I was looking forward to Alina’s appearance so much and was really sad to feel any ounce of disappointment :( Hopefully next week’s review will be back to just me fangirling throughout hehe~

#magia record #magireco #puella magi madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica side story #pmmm #fandom #mine #anime #review #magia record review #v watches magireco

35 notes · View notes

5amfries · 4 years

Text

It’s so busy today! There’s only three people here with a cafe full of steadily frustrated people and you have to double as a barista and cashier.

You wonder how your going to through the rest of your shift as you complete the transaction for the woman in front of you and usher in the next customer.

When you look up to greet them, your smile falters momentarily, your eyes coming into contact with a broad chest, way wider than anything you’ve ever seen on another human.

You follow that strong line between this man’s pecs, very pronounced beneath his seemingly too tight, black turtleneck, up to his face. It felt like an eternity to get there, tilting your neck back farther back than expected, but when you do, you’re met with the scariest face imaginable.

Anger and impatience oozes from this man, sticks to the surface of your counter and leaks out of him like an overfilled bathtub. It almost appears as though the atmosphere around him is darkened in color.

Not only is his size encompassing, but his attitude as well.

He wears a deep set frown, lips twitching to hold back a snarl. Beneath his hat, he glares poison into you with his, otherwise very beautiful, aqua colored eyes. They promise nothing but violence.

The man is extremely frightening and yet you can’t look away. He has you trapped in place, until his lips parted to release a deep rumble of a voice.

“Excuse me.”

His thunder shakes you from your trance. It makes you jump a little. You blink and refocus, remembering that you have a job to do. You smile and hold your hand up to your register, ready to take the man’s order.

“Hi! Welcome to-” You begin, but are swiftly interrupted by another thunder strike.

“What’s taking so long?” The man asks, eyebrows furrowing even deeper.

“I’ve been waiting in line for ten minutes and there’s only been four other people in line.”

He pauses and takes a look around the cafe, before gesturing towards the crowd of people who fill it.

“And how long have these people been here? It’s absolutely ridiculous that I have to wait this long to get my order taken, then have to wait an hour on coffee.”

You’re taken aback by this man’s force, but quick to bounce back. This isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with a pissed off customer and it surely won’t be the last.

“Hey! Are you listening to me? Good grief…” The man commands once more. You try to shake the chill that runs down your spine as the man scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Stupid bitch…” He mutters under your breath, but you catch it.

It’s a shot through the heart, brings a sting to your eyes. You didn’t deserve this grilling. This isn’t your fault and you and your coworkers are trying your collective best.

“… S-Sir, I’m sorry, but-” You start, but the man stops you again.

“No you’re not.” He snarls. “If you were, I wouldn’t be standing here wasting my life waiting to pay for overpriced coffee.”

Your fear and sadness flips at his words. Now, you are angry. The man’s bad mood has now taken you over, creeping up your arms and seeping through your skin.

You grind your teeth, clench your jaw and switch your weight to your left side.

It takes a great deal of power, but you return the man’s glare with a steady gaze of your own. You still had to keep a level of professionalism, even for the worst of assholes.

“I’m sorry that you had to wait for so long.” You reply, voice calm and neutral, but you can’t help the underlying annoyance that runs through it. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“As you can see, we are very backed up at the moment, and we’re trying our hardest to serve everyone properly.”

His scowl darkens more, if possible. “That’s not an excuse.”

You continue. “But it is the truth. We can only work so fast, our machines can work only so fast. If you still decide to stay with us, I cannot give you a definite time limit on when it will be done, but I can promise that it will be a high quality product.”

The man becomes silent, but doesn’t let up his glare. This time you challenge him and do the same. If this jerk had a problem, he could ask for your manager or leave. You prefer the latter.

The quicker he was out of not only your store, but your life, the happier you’d be. You never understood why people would take the time to complain and put workers down instead of simply leaving. You weren’t keeping him here.

After a long pause, the man pushes back his long, white coat and reaches into his pants pocket, roughly pulling out his black leather wallet. He takes six dollars out and slams it on the counter.

“Large vanilla latte. Extra shot. Make sure it’s soy. ’M lactose intolerant.”

The tension that had stiffened your body over the past few minutes resides slightly. You type in his order, then ask for his name.

“Jotaro.” He answers, turning away from you to head toward the lobby.

“Okay, your change-?”

“Don’t want it.”

With that, he leaves and sits in the far corner of the cafe, away from the swarming crowd.

Luckily, that man, Mr. Jotaro, was your last customer at the register, now it was time to return to the bar. You smirk as you pull a ticket. After this drink would be that man’s and you’d make sure that you made his drink and make it special.

♡

It’s been about an hour since the man ordered his latte.

He seemed to have been pacified well enough, having had no complaints the entire time he sat. Just sipping on his coffee as he flipped through whatever was on his tablet.

From time to time, you look up and check on him. You had mixed whole milk with the soy and added whipped cream and let it melt into it so he couldn’t tell. For someone so concerned about their intolerance, he didn’t seem to be too affected.

You sigh. It’s a solemn victory, but at least he’s quiet and you’ve survived the rush and that’s all that really matters.

♡

Jotaro’s sweating. It’s a mix of nerves, rage and his body counting down to it’s explosion.

His stomach’s been contracting and writhing beneath his skin. The combination of agonizing cramps and squirming worm-like acid that fills him has him throwing an internal fit.

Everything hurts! And the sickly belches he keeps rumbling in his throat bring nothing but a disgusting, burning aftertaste.

At this point, he’s desperate to touch. His abdomen is in dire need of a rub and a heating pad. He knows the real relief he’s searching for is in releasing the gas that’s been gradually building in him for the past hour.

He should have left the second he got his coffee. He looks over to the counter where he finds the barista he had chewed out earlier. Their eyes catch each other and the barista is quick to look back at whatever they’re doing.

He then looks back at his empty cup, stares at it with sudden interest. Did they… do something to his coffee. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s pissed someone off and they’ve retaliated.

Jotaro’s heart drops at the realization. He might have been a little too harsh. Maybe he deserved a spiked coffee.

A sudden dip in his stomach has him lurching forward. His jaw clenches, trying to hold back the pain from showing. There’s a loud ringing groan that follows the cramp.

It’s noticeable over the light music that twinkles throughout the building. The crowd that once filled the cafe has dispersed and now only he and two other customers reside there.

He’s lucky that they have earphones in to not hear. Discreetly, he brings his hand to his lap and rubs at his bloating belly.

It turns into a mistake as he pushes a pocket of air that rushes to his bowels and out of him in a airy fart. It ends on a bubbly note and it rolls off the wooden chair he sits in. The volume of it has him blushing.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet, another escapes him immediately after, but louder this time. Jotaro stiffens, eyes wide as he takes another look around. The customers are still in their own world. The baristas are busy at work, their machines overpowering his noise level.

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. If he could just wait for a calm period and not shit himself when he stands, he’s home free.

His stomach roars and stabs him. He huffs a grunt and forces out another short but noisy burst.

And then another.

Jotaro frowns and looks down at his stomach, inwardly commanding it to stop. As if in defiance, it grumbles fiercely and brings up a belch that resembles a dragon. It rumbles on for way too long and is loud enough that the barista who put him in the situation looks up.

Their cheeks flush and they return to work in faux ignorance.

Jotaro sighs, leans into himself a little from subconscious embarrassment. If he could just-

A large bubble inside fills him and slips downwards. His hand flies to the bottom of his stomach. The pain’s intense to where he wants nothing but to get it out, society be damned.

He leans in farther, pressing and massaging his middle to coax out the monster inside. It doesn’t disappoint when it is released. Deep and wet sounding, it stretches on and on and actually burns him coming out.

Jotaro doesn’t need to smell it to know that this one’s going to be the one to alert the cafe of his dilemma, with the way it had decided to stew within him.

To add insult to injury, he burps, three times in succession, an alarm to those in his toxic zone. These bring attention from all of the baristas. They stop momentarily to look over at him, while the smell of his last blast has the customers around him looking up from their computers.

They have the familiar expression of disgust and confusion as they search for the cause.

It doesn’t take them long when Jotaro releases another rippling, sick sounding fart, that’s quickly followed by a neverending string of short blowouts.

“Sir, are you okay?” One of the baristas calls out, her face of concern and repulsion.

“Holy shit!” The youngest customer exclaims, his hands clasping over his face at record speed.

Jotaro rolls his eyes, holding back an annoyed huff. It was over now, no use in trying to hide. He sits back in his chair, his coat falling to his sides over his extended belly.

He claps a hand over its peak and lets a belch rattle inside his closed mouth.

His eyes cross over to the barista who served him. They still stare in shock. He can see the regret in their eyes. It almost makes him laugh.

“I’m fine.” He answers, blowing out another burp after.

His stomach rolls, bubbles fill him at a alarming rate. Yeah, he’s not going to make it.

Jotaro takes out his wallet and drops a hundred on the table, before picking up his things and putting it in his bag. He hopes the barista who did this knows it’s for them.

He stands, a continuous, bubbly moist expulsion leaving his backside.

“Your bathroom won’t be though.” He mutters as he storms towards the restroom, leaving the lobby with one last voluminous belch.

#here's my life insert fic #it was... fun to say the least 😳#jotaro is my punching bag #◇ jotaro #lI! jotaro #burping #farting #j/j/ba #♡ a product sample

62 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

fullunknowncrown said: Idk, in my opinion I think they just mixed those figures of Dick’s life just because those scenes are, in fact, important. I’d like to make theories, but I don’t think they paid too much attention to what to put on. And well, I hate Tarantula is there, but that’s it.

Yeah, honestly it could go either way, so its impossible to really even speculate all that much. Its too soon to tell what way they’re leaning with that. I know what I prefer and hope, but as to their actual intentions, who knows.

As for Tarantula being there, I have mixed feelings. and I think ultimately it will depend on whether or not she ends up playing a large role in a future story, with their preboot history actually explicitly referenced and addressed.

Because if they included her there because they actually MEAN for her to have relevance, and in an honest, fully transparent kinda way......like, if some writer has already staked out that they wanted her to be brought back and refreshed in peoples’ minds because they want to finally, FINALLY do a story that addresses the fact that she raped Dick, plain and simple....

Then I will be over the moon, at her inclusion. Don’t get me wrong, I’m wincing just at the thought of what that story would actually read like, because there’s really no current DC writer I can think of off the top of my head that I can picture writing that particular story well....

But if they do actually do that story, even if it is an abomination, even if it is a raging trashfire of such searing intensity it makes Heroes in Crisis look like a nice warm toasty fireplace in comparison, even if the actual writing of it pisses me off and has me raging for months......a huge part of me will still just be glad that the story exists. That even though it took twenty years to get around to it, somebody finally shone a light on this particular moment of Dick’s history, that no fans have ever forgotten about whether or not DC ever actually acknowledges it...and just hearing them just call it what it is, acknowledge Dick in the text as a canon rape survivor.....that would make me glad Tarantula was brought back, in the end. For that, I would think her reappearance is worth it.

BUT.

If they do actually bring Tarantula back and then just engage in yet another round of avoiding the Zitka in the room, and use her appearances for cheap publicity because DC knows full well how people are gonna receive and perceive her presence in Dick’s story even if DC doesn’t intend to actually validate that in the actual story itself....if after twenty years of them not acknowledging what that story actually contained and depicted and after fifteen years of Tarantula being dead and forgotten by any readers who aren’t focused on Nightwing in particular.....if after all of that they go to the trouble of digging her and her story up and plaster it across modern, rebooted continuity just for the drama and sensationalized spectacle of it all, and otherwise remain committed to just changing the subject every time that particular event is brought up in questions to them......

Then, I will NOT be happy that they brought Tarantula back after all this time.

Even if between now and then they discover the greatest writer of our times and they’re the one who writes the Nightwing stories she reappears in, and other than that their issues create a gorgeous and compelling and epic hero’s journey that people hail as the greatest comic book story ever written....

....cut to me, simmering balefully and glaring at DC with the full intensity of my Displeasure, as if I can actually kill them all with my brain, because I have forgotten in that moment that I’m not like, a Sith Lord with force-choking powers and am actually just a bitter fan with an axe to grind and nothing I can actually do about it.

But like.

A SUPER bitter fan, like, dialed up to eleven hundred. As if I was bitten by a radioactive bitter fan and bestowed with the magnified powers of bitter comic book fans everywhere.

Like, basically, I’m just saying I can’t even express how very Not Happy I’ll be if they did bring up Tarantula again after all this time, just to ignore the issue completely. The words I need to properly convey my Ho Don’t Do It thoughts and feelings and just overall vibe at the thought of her return going absolutely nowhere story-wise....like, they haven’t been invented yet.

Yes, all of the above is super melodramatic because I’m feeling obnoxiously whimsical this weekend and I’m inflicting said whimsies on all of you just because I Can and You Can’t Stop Me and Oh No I’ve Already Become Drunk on Imaginary Power That Isn’t Even Real....

But in all seriousness, like, I am 100% serious about being willing to give this a chance because I WANT that story to be written, the one that in canon declares Dick a survivor because of what actually was written on the page back then. But if they brought her back and renewed her relevance in fandom conversations and write her into stories but never ever ever even slightly acknowledge the “non-consensual” past between them, like. I’ll be soooooo annoyed and pissed and unhappy because that’s just a shit move and literally nobody asked, DC, you could have just left her in the magical land of Nobody Cares, and if they stirred up all of this again just for cheap publicity or some other bullshit reason that they pull out of Lobdell’s ass and mistake for a Pulitzer......ugh. That would be The Worst and I would say so often and a lot and you will all be sick of me in no time.

So if anyone out there DOES actually have psychic powers they hide from the world cuz LOL LBR We Would NOT Handle the Existence of Actual Superhumans Well, Like Not Even A Little Teeny Tiny Bit.....like, I beseech you to turn those powers on DC and make them make the right choice, because like. I’m not even pretending, guys. I will be just the absolute worst if that happens, I will become the Freddy Krueger of Annnoying and my weapon of choice when racking up a body count will be The Broken Record I Refuse To Stop Playing Because This Is Murica and I have Rights Dammit.

And I will hate it and you will hate it and everyone will hate it except for DC because up is down with them and they seem to think complaints are praise and idek man, those guys are weird and I don’t get them or their Life Choices.

*Shrugs*

Anyways......

#rape cw

11 notes · View notes

saidelia-draconis · 4 years

Note

29. A memory they can’t let themselves forget

The rows of lit torches flickering in their sconces burned dimly. It was late in the evening. The brazier that Saidelia sat by was burning low. All but coals had burned away by now. She finally heard the rhythmic tapping against the door. The latch clicked. A face appeared. The man was dark-skinned, bald, and wore a soft, serene smile.

“Good evening, Captain Draconis. I’ll see you now, please.”

Saidelia nodded, slowly standing to her feet, and swiftly crossing the threshold. Once the two were in the room together, they exchanged a brisk handshake. He was a kind, gentle soul that she had met several times prior. Isaiah Morland. He wore a dark, velvet frock with sharp outlines and a stiff collar. On his chest was the brilliant star of the Argent Crusade. The man gestured towards a chair across from his desk. Saidelia sat without complaint. He settled in across from her, brushing his papers aside to clear the desk.

“I am glad to see you again, Captain Draconis. We never seem to have much to do with each other, do we.”

“It is good to see you as well, high priest. How can I be of service?”

The man idly stroked the stubble on his chin, surveying the paladin carefully. He gestured towards a dusty shelf with several cupboards underneath. Old bottles with faded labels lined the shelf.

“In due time. But first, I suppose it would be good of us to catch up. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee? As I recall, you don’t drink. Correct?”

“Correct, sir. Tea, if you have it. Doesn’t matter what.”

“Excellent choice. Tea it is. If that’s the case, I think we’ll have a pot of my favorite, white with rosehips. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

He busied himself with the kettle, a process which Saidelia was all too familiar. Serving tea during meetings was a trick she had learned from the high priest himself. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman as he worked.

“Captain, if it’s all the same to you, it’s just the two of us, Isaiah is fine.”

“Of course, sir. Sorry. Of course, Isaiah. Is there anything I can do in the meantime?”

“Nothing in particular. Tell me, how have you fared recently? It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen each other. I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting our friendship.”

Friendship felt a touch familiar for someone Saidelia had met a handful of times at best. Though she saw no need to correct him. The favor of a high priest was rarely a burden. He set the kettle down in front of them, leaving only a few minutes for the tea to finish steeping. He poured each of them a cup.

“If I can be honest? Restless. I don’t feel useful sitting in Stormwind with my thumb… Sorry. Well, you know what I was going to say. I don’t feel like I’m being utilized properly.”

Isaiah nodded, a twinge of unease creeping into his features. He watched her for a moment. He blew a whiff of steam off of his cup, taking a small sip. He resumed his gentle, comforting gaze, focused on Saidelia once more.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do know what you are referring to. And I don’t just mean your choice of words.”

His words were glib and friendly, but his tone soon shifted again as he leaned forward. He took another sip of his tea, causing Saidelia to mimic him. The taste was smooth, fragrant, and calming. It almost made the visit feel like a social call. He was no longer smiling his calm, pleasant smile. He looked much more reserved and serious.

“Saidelia, I am sure you have noticed that your duties have been waning since your last evaluation, correct?”

“Yes… Was it because of something I said?”

“Yes and no. It was what you mentioned to our psychiatrist. Do you remember?”

“Nothing specific. Do I have anything to worry about, sir?”

Isaiah sighed deeply, taking another small sip of his tea, eyes on the paladin. He nodded.

“I am afraid so, yes. It wasn’t that you said anything wrong. You’re certainly not being punished. You’ve given years of faithful, and exemplary service. We’re all quite impressed with you.”

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t your way of putting me up for another medal?”

“Saidelia. Captain Draconis. This isn’t something I take lightly. Nor is it something I relish. You told our psychiatrist you’ve been hearing… Voices. She diagnosed you with Saronite poisoning, yes? Among a few other things, if I recall.”

Saidelia leaned forward, her elbows on the man’s desk as she sipped her tea. She put it aside for the moment. She had grown wary. The familiarity between them had vanished. The apprehension in Saidelia’s voice had grown all the more prevalent.

“Is there something you’re trying to say to me, sir?”

“I’m afraid that they’ve seen fit to relieve you of duty… With honors, of course. Distinguished service, and the like.”

Saidelia froze. She heard Isaiah’s words, hardly able to believe them.

“They what?”

“You’re to be considered medically retired. In your years of service to the Crusade, you’ve sustained what we call a ‘Critical break potential.’”

“Hold on, stop. I have a what? What does that mean, you think I’m going to snap?”

“In plain words, yes. We believe it is possible for you to snap, as you put it. Please keep in mind, this wasn’t an easy decision. Of course, we have a pension that–”

Saidelia suddenly rose to her feet, hands on his desk as she stared down at Isaiah. She looked a mix of incredulous and infuriated.

“Wait, wait, wait. Just because I might snap - without even a shred of evidence - you think you can just kick me out?”

“Saidelia, you are not being kicked out, as you say. We can’t take away your years of service.”

“But what, you can sure ignore them? Morland, I have given my entire life to the Crusade. I’ve lost friends, my childhood, shit, my only real family! Fuck sakes, it’s been my home since I was a kid!”

“And I would never take that from you. You are of course allowed to retain your title. You are still a knight-captain in our ranks, and your knighthood will hold outside of our service. But look at it from my point of view, Saidelia. You admitted to our psychiatrist that you are experiencing delusions and that you have a hard time understanding what is and isn’t real. What is to happen when we hand you a blade and put you in charge of soldiers?”

Saidelia hammered a plated fist into the desk. Morland didn’t even jump. His eyes lingered on her fist for a moment. Even his expression remained the same. He cleared his throat, only to have the paladin shout over him.

“Saidelia, I–”

“You can’t do this to me! I’m a Crusader! It’s who I am, and if you think–”

Isaiah drew in a breath. Once Saidelia paused, he took the time to cut in. He was done listening.

“Knight-Captain Draconis, that is enough. I am sorry that things have turned out this way for you, but that does not give you the right to take it out on me. This decision was not mine alone, and your martyr complex is not only a dangerous attitude for yourself, it would jeopardize anyone we put under your command. What you seem to be forgetting is that I have always been on your side. I have tried to help you in the past. I have tried to get you other opportunities away from the front lines, or in civilian life, but my advice has fallen on deaf ears. I cannot help you if you do not want to move on, but I do not have to give you a platform to put yourself or the good men and women under you in danger. You are to receive recognition for your years of distinguished service, and enough lodging and compensation to see you through your retirement. We feel that this is more than fair, and as a personal favor, I am seeing fit to strike our little disagreement from our records. Do I make myself clear?”

Saidelia’s jaw was clenched. Her fists were balled. Her stance was tense. She gazed venomously down at Isaiah, who hadn’t so much as risen from his seat. Even his voice was still relatively calm, considering. She swiped at her teacup, spilling it on the desk. It suddenly became clear why he had cleared it prior to her arrival. He simply stared back at her. Nothing seemed to surprise him in their encounter. His duties were vast, and he had seen similar outbursts before. When at last Saidelia spoke, her voice was flecked with emotion, the paladin struggling to find her words.

“I am leaving. I don’t want your fucking pity. You and this fucking circus you call an order. You’ve grown stupid and lazy sitting behind a desk. You won’t be ready for the next disaster. You need me.”

As Saidelia started to storm off, Isaiah’s voice could be heard. He was still cool and even oddly humane, despite the woman’s obvious tailspin.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

She didn’t look back.

(Thank you so much @bigdumbchicken for the ask!)

#Asks #Backstory #Prompts #Writing

3 notes · View notes

pickledchickenetti · 5 years

Text

So I’ve had something on my mind for the last week or two that I’ve been trying to figure out how to best start a post about and coming up short. We all know that I have a tendency to be long-winded, and some of this post is going to be stream of consciousness, at least moreso than my usual longer posts, which I usually wait to start until I have a pretty solid idea of what I want to say and how I want to say it. I may go back and edit this some at the end, I may not, probably depends on how it comes out. (Edited at the end to add: I’m not editing anything. It’s long and I’m not expecting anyone to force themselves through it, but thanks to those who do!) Since this is partially me using my blog as a place to ruminate on some things, I’m going to put it under a read more for those who don’t want to have it clogging up their dashboard.

Lately I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings regarding social media and what voices and mindsets I allow to be a part of my everyday life. I put a lot of effort into carefully treading the line between taking unnecessary negativity out of my social media feeds and creating an echo chamber where I only see people who agree with me. Most of the time, the decision comes down to the tone and intent. If someone is consistently rude, angry, or condescending, with very little useful contribution to any conversation I unfollow them. This applies to people on Facebook who constantly use slurs, post hateful things about people with opposing beliefs or political stances (even if I generally agree with that person’s beliefs or stances) with little attention to facts, and it also applies to people here are just needlessly rude with no real contributions to the overall conversation.

The older I get, the more I find choosing kindness to be a priority in my life. I’m not perfect; I fully admit there are still times when I’m rude or condescending. Sometimes this is an accident, and unfortunately sometimes it isn’t. I don’t like this, and I try especially hard not to be intentionally condescending. Kindness is a choice, and progress takes time.

As I’m sure most of you know, I am often very critical of @kristagay‘s posts. I still stand by many, possibly even most, of the opinions I’ve shared. Kindness is important to me, but it’s also important to me to not let other people’s hurtful words or actions go unchecked when I have the ability to say/do something. (This applies to everyone in my radar, not just Krista.) I have very strong opinions on a number of subjects, but it’s especially important to me to speak up in defense of others in the LGBTQA community as that’s a community I belong to and those struggles are more personal to me.

A little while back, I got a string of anons (many were answered, some were deleted) that made it seem like someone was trying to create some sort of feud between me and Krista. As I said in one of the posts at that time, I was under no illusion that Krista was reading any of my posts that didn’t tag her directly, and had no interest in any sort of feud. Krista does not follow me, and in general does not seem to interact much on Tumblr beyond asks to her and posts she is directly tagged in (or reblogs/comments on her posts of course). I would likely be the same way if I stumbled onto a community of people discussing every little detail of people I was friends with in real life. I would want to set the record straight and defend my friends while also respecting their privacy, and as a result I doubt I’d interact much anyway. I respect her choice to not discuss them at all, even the things seen on TV, and hope she will continue to make that choice no matter how annoying people asking her for info might get. (And to Pickles and anyone else who has crossed the line and sent her intentionally inflammatory messages/questions about the Duggars or hate for the sake of hate, please kindly delete your accounts and learn how to interact with actual humans in a respectful way.)

When I got the string of anons asking me about Krista, I took a step back and tried to objectively examine why I followed Krista, why I continued to devote energy in responding to her posts, and if it was worth my time and emotional energy to continue doing so. The difference I found between Krista’s posts, which do often frustrate me, and posts from others who I have chosen to unfollow and/or block is the intent and context behind the posts.

At the end of the day, Krista and I are very similar. We were both raised in very conservative families/churches, who had different plans for us than the lives we’ve chosen to pursue. We’ve both come to believe differently about God than the churches we were raised in. And we both know what it’s like to have to keep up appearances, especially online, in order to not destroy (or majorly hurt) relationships with people in our lives offline who it’s still important to maintain a relationship with.

There are a couple big differences between us. First of all, I’m gay. I came to believe differently than the church I was raised in largely because I’ve had to just to be who I am and not feel depressed and suicidal all the time. When you grow up gay in a conservative family, life gives you two choices: shut off who you are and spend your life convincing yourself you are who you were told you were supposed to be or do major amounts of soul-searching to figure out who you are and how to accept yourself. When you’re already evaluating one major aspect of who you are and what you believe it becomes nearly impossible to not do that same evaluation on the other beliefs you were raised in. Because of this process, I’ve come to see a lot of hypocrisy and downright lies in the belief system I was raised in. This has pushed me into developing a pretty strong set of opinions, beliefs, and political stances that stand in stark contrast to my family and lifelong family friends.

As a cisgendered straight woman, Krista did not have this huge thing forcing her to do major soul-searching. Despite this, she has done soul-searching, and seems to still be doing it. (It’s really a lifelong process, after all.) She has stepped out into a world that she likely didn’t consider being able to live in as a little girl. She’s pursued an educational and career path that’s impressive for even women who were raised being encouraged to focus on education, so for someone in her church and belief system to get to where she is is monumental, and for that I applaud her. So while I definitely disagree with her beliefs on a number of subjects, and will continue to say so (with thoughtful responses, not just complaints) when I feel her posts call for it, I am doing my best to remember that no one was born perfect, and she is still learning just as much as the rest of us are. I’ve said many times that I really do believe her intentions are good, and I stand by that belief. She’s learning. She’s trying. She may be one of the more conservative voices in our tumblr community, but many of us have admitted we used to be worse than we are now, and she’s come a long way from who she once was too.

The other big difference between us, at least as far as tumblr goes, is that she has chosen to attach her name and face to her posts on here, and I have not. Many of you know who I am, follow me elsewhere, etc. That doesn’t change the fact that publicly, all you see is a food-based username and (currently) a photo of Jana Duggar on a boat. I share my first name, my age, and my general location. While someone who knew me offline could likely piece together my identity if they paid enough attention, I am careful to not overly-identify myself. This relative anonymity grants me the privilege of speaking freely online without worrying about offline consequences. Krista has not granted herself that same anonymity. I’m honestly a little embarrassed that I had never considered before the fact that she likely does not feel she can speak freely on Tumblr. I am very careful what I post on my other social media platforms. When my name and face are attached, I pretty much never mention LGBTQA issues for fear of outing myself and losing family members I’m not ready to lose. I don’t post about the abuses found in many Baptist churches or the lasting harmful effects I feel from my overly-religious childhood. This is partially to avoid a can of worms with a widespread ripple effect and partially out of respect for my parents and their desire to not have to defend me for believing things they don’t even agree with themselves. For Krista, the things she says here can and likely do affect her life offline, and it’s something that’s important to keep in mind when reading her posts.

I don’t say all of this to say that Krista gets a pass for hurtful things she says. We all are still accountable for the things we say, and she has chosen to put herself in the position of having to choose between saying things that will hurt her offline life, censoring herself, or staying silent. There are topics I still wish she would just address openly or not at all. But at the end of the day, she has the same right to censor herself here as I do elsewhere, and I will be trying to keep that in mind going forward. When interacting with her privately, she’s only ever proven herself to be kind and open to hearing what I have to say. In the future, I may give her the same respect I often give my offline friends where I just send her a DM to clarify her intent of a seemingly rude or hateful post instead of just calling her out publicly. We’re all learning, Krista included.

Social media, especially Tumblr, has given in to a dangerous mindset that’s often referred to as “cancel culture”. There are times when it is absolutely the right choice to “cancel” someone. Like I said at the beginning of my post, we have the right to choose what voices to allow into our feeds. We should all take advantage of that right and do what’s best for our mental health. I just think we should also be more mindful of context and intent when deciding whether or not to “cancel” someone. We all say we want young girls (and boys) in fundie communities to get out of that lifestyle and find better beliefs, but getting out doesn’t happen overnight. Many of us have the benefit of getting here after shedding many of our toxic beliefs. For those who aren’t there yet, I hope we will just remember to choose kindness and respect and do our best to be open to educating them without being hateful or derogatory.

28 notes · View notes

latteunwoo · 5 years

Text

living with university student!got7 au; maknae line

got7 m.list

Choi Youngjae

youngjae is so underrated i wish more people would recognize him too

okay youngjae wasn’t always the worst roommate ever

at the beginning he was very much normal and easy to handle

when you two were freshmen, he was very quiet and hardly ever home

he literally spent most of his time at the library with the other boys

during your sophomore year, he started to actually be at home more

that’s when things went downhill

for you at least

you knew youngjae was a music major

but you didn’t know that this would actually become more of a bad thing

than a good thing :(

you knew youngjae was a really great singer

in fact that’s part of the reason why you let him be your roommate

you thought it would be nice to hear him singing and practicing the songs he wrote

OH BOY WERE YOU WRONG

well kinda wrong

it wasn’t that he was bad of course

but he was always so loud

sometimes he would be singing at like 3am

omg and his warm ups were the worst

they literally sounded like bird calls

you actually got a complaint from a few of your guys’ neighbors because of that

you wanted to kick him out

but he was the only one who was willing to pay the high rent price

anyways

when he first moved in, he had coco

coco is cute

she really is

bUT

whenever youngjae wasn’t home she would try to fight you

one time you went into youngjae’s room when he wasn’t there to borrow his mic because you needed to record something for one of your projects

coco thought you were trying to steal it and started barking at you while pulling your shirt when you kneeled down on the floor to find the mic

she would just bark at you no matter what if youngjae wasn’t there

you told youngjae about it once

but he just argued back saying that coco wasn’t like that

“no, coco is very sweet”

“maybe you’re just imagining things”

“she’s barking at you because she likes you”

your ripped up pillow says otherwise tho :(

anyways

youngjae always likes to play computer games

wait no correction

he LOVES to play computer games

you had to admit you liked playing them too

however, youngjae would always and i mean ALWAYS play at really late times

your room was right next to his so you would always hear him clicking and typing away while yelling at the screen whenever he would lose a fight in the game

“YAH YAH YAH OVER THERE” “NOOOOOO” “OH MY GOD” “I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO IN YET” “WE GOT KILLED BECAUSE OF YOU” etc.

other than all that, youngjae isn’t really that bad of a roommate

if he cooks food for himself, he actually cleans up his mess afterwards

he knows better than to use any of your stuff without asking

also if he cooks too much food, he always leaves the leftovers in the fridge in case you wanted some too

Bambam

this bitch

like jackson, he’s a very annoying roommate

bambam is a sassy bitch

sometimes if you ask him to help you do something he replies with “you can do it yourself”

it makes you want to choke him to death sometimes

however despite his sassy comebacks he still does whatever you ask him to

at least most of the time he does

anyways back to the whole sassy bitch thing

we know our bammie loves his fashion

that boy’s got a better sense of fashion than i do

he’d probably occasionally criticize/roast you about your outfit

because ya know he’s a fashion major and that’s what they’d do

well, at least that’s what he’d do

“omg are you really going out in just sweats and a hoodie?”

“you look like you just woke up”

obv its because you probably just did like who gets up early to dress up for class in college these days

“that’s the reason why you don’t have a boyfriend yet, you always dress like that”

“you should take some advice from me”

lists a 380498230948290 different reasons why you should let him help you with your fashion choices

aNYWAYS MOVING ON

his cats

omg his cats

this is basically the whole jaebum situation

whenever he leaves the apartment and you’re still there, he leaves his bedroom door open

actually he does that anyways but its worse when he’s not there

why?

oh well because half the time when he’s not there, his cats go and bother you

it’s not really a problem when you’re not doing anything important

but sometimes you’re trying to focus on writing up a report for one of your classes and one of his cats just pounces onto your laptop

then you end up with a report that has a bunch of “keyboard smashes” in different places

it takes you a while to look through your essay and delete everything that’s not suppose to be there

you told bambam this once but of course he just tells you that maybe you should be nicer to his cats so they wouldn’t bother you

asldjkasdjaslkdjaslkdjas

okay i know it may seem like i’m shit talking bambam but it aint that deep

other than being a complete nuisance, bambam is actually a really good roommate

like he pays rent on time, sometimes he buys extra food so he can share with you, he cleans up after himself, and.... well that’s about it

Kim Yugyeom

yugyeom is basically bambam

i mean are we surprised???

they’re literally the same person

anyways

the only good thing about yugyeom i guess is that he’s a bit more obedient

sure he likes being a sassy little bitch too

but if you tell him to do something he’ll do it

mostly because he doesn’t want to get his ass whooped

hit the stage kim yugyeom is obviously a dance major

now that sounds cool, right?

having a dance major as a roommate???

well, there’s an equal amount of pros and cons

let’s start with the cons

con #1: sometimes he practices in the apartment

he does this for one of two reasons; it’s late and the dance studio is closed or the lightbulb in his head suddenly lit up so he had to test out the choreography real quick

if he does the second one, he’d probably end up dragging you out of whatever you were doing and ask you to film it for him

“Hey, hey, hey i thought of some really cool choreography and i need you to film it for me so i can look at it again later”

he knows he’s capable of propping up his phone and filming it himself but he lowkey just wanted to bother you

con #2: he’s so childish like most of the time it’s not even funny

well, you have to admit it’s kinda funny but ajsdklsajdalsk that’s beyond the point

con #3: because he was always pranked on by the other guys, instead of pranking them back he decided to just prank you

for example, one time you went back home for winter break and came back to find your shampoo bottle was mixed with red dye

luckily the hair dye was only semi-permanent so it didn’t even last that long

also tea you had your hair dyed a dark color while you were gone anyways so it wasn’t even noticeable

there’s a lot more cons that comes with being roommates with yugyeom, but let’s just skip those and talk about the pros

back to the whole thing about him being a dance major

it was really nice seeing him show his creativity through his dances

you could see that he was really passionate about what he was doing and that somehow motivated you to do better in your own major

he’s actually very thoughtful (sometimes)

whenever he’s out eating with his friends, he always thinks “maybe i should bring some food to go for y/n”

also if he knows you need something whether it be some new toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, etc. he’ll probably most likely get it for you when he’s out shopping for himself

although he’d also like tell you to pay him back for it whether you said so yourself or not

anyways another pro of having yugyeom as a roommate is that he’s actually really fun to be around

it’s literally never boring when he’s around

yugyeom makes everyone uwu

#got7 #got7 youngjae #got7 yugyeom #got7 bambam #got7 au #got7 reactions #got7 fluff #bambam #kim yugyeom #choi youngjae #maknae line

49 notes · View notes

untemperedwolf · 5 years

Text

the unimaginable light you hold inside

I wrote this a short while ago, but finally got around to posting! Tagging @doctorroseprompts for march's angst/ hurt and comfort month theme. I'm really proud of this so I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Nine x Rose || Rating: T || Words: 3,575 || Summary: hurt/ comfort. It's been a tough day, and the Doctor is feeling guilty.

Also on AO3

Enjoy!

The day had started out ordinary. He had gotten up, way before Rose, as per usual. She was human, and humans waste so much time with their sleeping habits, and Rose was no different. Actually, the way she treated sleep, you’d think it was something holy.

He, on the other hand, rarely needs to sleep. And even on the times he does, he doesn’t always. Time Lords can go a long time without sleep—yes, they can sleep more if they so desire, and that’s not uncommon for them. Time Lord’s dreams are vivid, much more vivid than humans, and they remember their dreams with more clarity. Many an invention has come out of Time Lord’s dreams; they see it as a time for their mind to be undisturbed. Still, the Doctor is always moving, and sleep requires you to be still.

And nothing good ever comes out of his dreams.The Doctor merely shuts his eyes for an hour or so, resting his body—they had been running an awful lot recently—but not trying to rest his mind. That’s when the nightmares come.

Everything had been normal that morning. He’d been making repairs in the TARDIS, mooching around and passing time until Rose would rise. Or, until it’s more an acceptable time to come wake her up. He doesn’t do that often, too cautious of his companion’s privacy, but he had occasionally when he thought too many hours had passed with no sign of Rose. That usually happens after a long stint of running with no rest, and the TARDIS’ health monitors often inform him that she needed a rather long rest to recuperate. She is only human after all.

Rose doesn’t leave him alone for long, not really, never any longer than ten hours, and that’s only occasionally. Depending on when they run into trouble, she can go twenty-four hours, sometimes longer, with no substantial rest.

Still, he finds his feet itching, wanting to run straight into the next adventure, distract his mind from his looming, dark thoughts. Those eight, nine, ten, hours stretch out long, spanning for what feels like an eternity. The last few hours are the worst. He knows, when it passes hour six, that if he was to go into her room, wake her up and tell her to get ready, she would.

No, that’s not right, she would regardless of the hour. Oh, she would complain, if it was too early. His companion doesn’t shy away from voicing her complaints, but he could tempt her with beautiful descriptions of burning stars, of solar flares, of once in a million chance to see a space tidal wave. Rose, oh Rose, she’s good like that. Tales of the stars lure her, tempt her, call to her as they do to him.

And most importantly, Rose is loyal. She’s kind, and compassionate and has a gentle soul; a heart made out of gold. She’s intuitive, far too intuitive sometimes, and the Doctor often feels like she can see right through him, with no real effort. It’s something that simultaneously makes him feel like dropping all of his closely guarded walls and making them thicker, layered.

So if he was to march into her room, interrupting the sleep she cherishes so dearly, she would complain, but she’d do it with no hesitation. She’d do it with an understanding, he thinks. The Doctor isn’t being rude, he’s being…vulnerable.

The Doctor doesn’t like examining this too closely. The thought that Rose, this one human girl, has such a silent understanding about him scares him. He’s war-torn, scarred from the war, his loss, and his actions. He’s vulnerable, a shivering child lost and hidden beneath walls and walls, more vulnerable than ever before. He shields himself away but Rose, her light and warmth, it shines through the cracks.

He’s lost everything, yet with Rose by his side, he feels like he’s gained everything.

She helps him in more ways than he thinks she knows; he doesn’t even know, afraid of acknowledging the power of her presence. So he gets on with his day, lurking behind his walls, acknowledging Rose’s importance to him, but never allowing his mind to analyse too closely—never allowing him to analyse why, from Rose’s perspective, she understands him so well. He has enough trouble from his own feelings to bring hers in the mix.

An acknowledgment that they are important to one another is enough, for anything more might bring upon more heartbreak than he has already suffered.

So, it’s not a debate of whether Rose would get up, if he so demands it, but rather if she could .

Humans of Rose’s age need an average of nine hours of sleep, especially ones with an intense life as they lead. Still, much like Time Lords—although, unfortunately not too similar, humans can function on less than the average sleep.

This means, he knows , when it passes the sixth hour, that if he was to go into her room, wake her up and tell her to get ready, she could .

The Doctor doesn’t.

Oh, he entertains the thought. In fact, for the ten hours, especially as it hits that hour six, it’s his most prominent thought, going over and over in his mind. A broken record, set to repeat. It’s how he occupies his mind, dreaming up the scenario again and again, of him walking into her room, awakening her from her slumber.

The Doctor thinks the Time Lords would despair if they could see him now and know his mind. He’d be a laugh, a joke. The Last of the Time Lords using his incredible, vivid mind, to dream up the same, lame desperate scenario. He’d be an embarrassment. Time Lords thought themselves superior and here he is, relying so heavily on a human. In his darker moments, he thinks himself in this self-deprecating way. Or rather, he should say, since he always seems to find himself lost in this mindset of self-loathing, in his lighter moments, he doesn’t think of this as true. The Time Lords, he knows, were heavily flawed beings and the way they’d think of his life would be wrong. Not only, but mostly for the way they’d view Rose.

They’d call Rose fragile, a weak shell but the Doctor knows this is not true. Rose is anything but fragile. Calling her fragile is like calling her a victim, and Rose has shown him time and time again that this is not the truth. Rose is strong. She’s the strength to his weakness, the light to his dark.

Rose is… Rose and that’s why, no matter how much he entertains the thought, no matter how much he feels alone, he doesn’t carry out the much dreamt up scenario in reality. That wouldn’t be fair to Rose, especially when he knows how willingly she’d do it.

Instead, he meddles with the TARDIS, reads some books in the library, trying to think up new and exciting places to take Rose—anything to pass the time until Rose awakes and eases him out of his lonely, dark mind once again.

Almost as much as Rose loves to sleep, she loves a cup of tea too, so the Doctor always hears her movements in the galley first. The TARDIS is an infinite ship, with walls that betray no sound, not like a house, but the Doctor requests she places the galley close to the console room, and filters the sound from there, to give him an early alert of Rose’s movements.

It acts as a way to relieve him of the endless night quicker, but also provides a warning to him, a reminder to compose himself behind the cool, unaffected wall he hides behind—stopping him throwing himself at her, embracing her into a tight hug every morning. Despite how it scares him not to mind how she sees his vulnerability, he draws a line at showing her that much.

Just like every morning—oh, how domestic the Doctor’s life had become—Rose has shuffled into the console room, a cup of tea still in her hand (despite his rules against food and drink in the console room). It’s not often she’s dressed, in outside clothing—a rarity, in fact, since she had come aboard permanently—but what layers she has on varies. Either she’d be wearing her, as she called them, “lazy clothes,” which were the clothes she often climbed into after a day’s adventure but before bed. Or sometimes she’d come in, still in her flannelled pyjamas.

This day she had come in, dressed still in her pyjamas, a sleepy look to her eyes. The Doctor had been travelling with Rose now for quite a while, enough to be able to read her. That look meant that she wanted a quiet day, somewhere there’d truly be no chance of trouble. The Doctor had just spent ten hours thinking of places to take her, so his mind had quickly landed on the perfect place, which he was quick to tell her. Rose, obviously liking the plans, had brightened up at them, and after placing the cup of tea on the grating—to a roll of the Doctor’s eyes—she had left the room to get ready.

However, any chances of a peaceful, calm day had gone out of the window almost instantly after she came back, dressed. Alarms were going off, meaning the universe clearly had different plans for them. Trouble .

The Doctor, trying to quickly get the TARDIS on course, flashed an apologetic look at Rose, guilt flooding his systems. It was eased, however, by the look of excitement upon Rose’s face.

Now, nineteen hours later, the Doctor’s guilt was back with an abandon, his mind letting his dark thoughts of self-loathing run unfiltered through him. Trouble barely scratched the surface of the mess they walked into.

They had landed in a war, a planetary war in some galaxy. A vicious, and dark war that had scraped up the planet’s surfaces, had contaminated the planet’s atmosphere with vicious gases from their weapons.

They had been there nineteen hours, although it felt like longer—wars always do make time feel slower, and they had been through horrors. The planet was calling for help, but none of the people trusted them, the help they had been calling for, when they came. It was that lack of trust which got people killed and lead him to be injured. They were back now, in the TARDIS, the fight far from over, but their help had been given and the planet’s need for them ceased. The fight now is left only to words, as the two factions try to piece their broken planet back together.

Pain resonates through his body, but it’s the pain of his mind, his guilt, that causes the most agony. His soul is dark, torn and broken. He tries to be happy, to accept that he needs to keep living, but he knows he doesn’t deserve it. If he was being honest with himself, he deserves to be here, in a place of war.

But Rose…Rose is so bright, so young, and so pure. She’s not dark, or evil, poisonous or broken. He may deserve to be here, to see these horrors and to be brought right back to his own war, to be tormented, but Rose doesn’t.

And yet, because of him, Rose is here.

And she’s suffered.

Because of him, she has seen horrors beyond her imagination. This place, this planet, is a dark place; the true grittiness of war. Nothing washed over or romanticized, here. She had stood beside him, looking at the horrors, and he had seen her eyes. Full of sadness, full of despair at the sights she saw.

Guilt is ever so prevalent in his mind, and no more now than before.

“Here,” Rose interrupts his thoughts, and he’s alerted that she’s back in the room with him. As soon as he was injured, Rose had wanted him back in the TARDIS, wanted to make sure he was okay, but he wouldn’t leave the planet until their help had been given to the fullest.

Now, he lies on his bed. Rose had first taken him to the TARDIS’ infirmary, and he had talked her through things. He wanted to be alone. He hadn’t wanted to be so vulnerable in front of her, but Rose is stubborn, and wouldn’t leave his side. It would’ve been fruitless sending her away, anyway; he can not treat himself alone.

After she helped him get bandaged up and had gotten the right medication for him, he had told her she had done enough. That she should get some rest herself after the day they had. But Rose’s stubbornness came out, and she told him she wasn’t leaving him alone. She had helped him to his bedroom, the TARDIS having helpfully placed it close by. And true to her word, she didn’t leave him.

That is until his stomach growled.

He turns to look at Rose. Rose has changed out of the battered clothes she wore out, and into her “lazy” clothing, her hair tied back loosely. She stands at the side of his bed, holding a tray, a warm smile upon her face. She places the tray by his feet, at the end of the bed, and if he wasn’t in pain, he’d complain.

Rose, wordlessly, then walks around to the other side of his bed, climbing onto it. Once sat on the bed, she pulls the tray towards her. The scene is oddly domestic, and if guilt wasn’t dominating his thoughts he would notice how it pulls at his hearts, warming him inside.

“Now, then. It’s time for your next dose of medicine, so you can take that, and then you can eat,” Rose instructs, authoritatively. “I made soup!” She adds, with a smile, somehow filled with joy despite their day. Her words reveal proudness, happiness, and pride shining in her eyes. Despite himself, the Doctor smiles back.

Rose places his pills in his hand, her touch gentle. She then holds out a glass of water. “Okay, you know the drill,” She tells him. If he was alone, perhaps he wouldn’t take the medication, reveling in the pain he feels from his injury—he deserves to feel pain. But he’s not alone, so he takes the pills with no complaints.

Rose yet again moves the tray, so she can shift closer to him. “Okay, can you manage, if I put this on your lap?” She asks him, her expression unsure. He nods, knowing it will only cause him nothing but mild discomfort. She smiles and moves the tray.

“I made chicken soup and cut up some bread. I didn’t know if you’d like that… but that’s always how Mum made this for me when I was ill,” Rose tells him, leaning gently against the pillow.

“It’s good,” the Doctor tells her after a bite. Silence falls between them as he eats. Silences between them have always been comfortable, and this is no different, yet there’s a slight tension in the air, he can feel it.

“I also brought you some of your books, I thought you might want to read since you refuse to sleep,” Rose holds up the books, lifting them from the tray. The Doctor nods, an acknowledgment, and silence falls once more.

Finishing the soup—and the Doctor has to admit, Rose was right when she told him a bit of food will make him feel better, physically at least—he places the tray on the floor. Rose could take it back to the galley, but the Doctor doesn’t want her to leave him. And, while he feels less like a coward, he has something to say. He turns his body slightly, to face her.

“Rose, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that today,” He apologizes, the words spoken lowly, almost gently. They betray his guilt, his voice sounding mournful, but the Doctor pushes away his alarm bells of getting too vulnerable. Rose needs an apology.

Rose remains quiet for a few minutes. “It wasn’t nice,” when she finally speaks, her tone is cautious like she’s carefully picked what words to use. “The universe isn’t all delights and wonders, I know that—we’ve seen that before. And today, today was…it was dark,” she continues to speak, carefully. Her voice is filled with emotions, and she’s not looking at him. Her hand moves from her lap, finding his arm and stroking down it, gently, until she finds his hand. She links their fingers.

“But,” She looks at him, her eyes finding his, “But I’m concerned for you. How are…you? That wasn’t nice for me, and I’m not saying what I saw today isn’t going to have an effect on me, but…I’ve never seen a war before. You have, and. It must’ve brought back stuff, yeah?” Rose’s eyes are filled with nothing but concern, but compassion. Guilt rampages through his mind, but with her look, it cuts through it, pausing the guilt.

His desire, his want to be vulnerable, to lower those walls he holds flares up and he goes to push the desire away, only to let it filter through in controlled amounts, but he realises. After the day he’s had, and how warm, welcoming and understanding her eyes are, he doesn’t have to—he doesn’t want to.

A lump forms in his throat. He tries to form words, but is unable, instead nodding in response to Rose. He shuts his eyes, begging the tears that have pricked to go away. Rose squeezes his hand, and her other hand resumes the stroking of his arm, a repetitive action, up and down.

The Doctor doesn’t know how much time passes before he speaks, losing himself in the gentle, soothing action of Rose’s comfort. “I saw…I saw so many of my people die. I saw children die, helpless children who… being there brought it all back. It’s always there, in my mind, I can’t ever let myself forget. Not when I survived, and they didn’t.” The Doctor flinches at how broken, how raw his voice sounds.

He feels the bed move and he opens his eyes again to see Rose shifting towards him even more, pulling at his arm. She moves it so she’s holding it against her, one hand still in his and the other securing him to her. Her expression is sorrowful, her eyes filled with pain—pain for him. She doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t deserve to survive, not when I was the one who ended the war. Not when all I’ve done since it is put you in danger, taking you away from safety, under the lure of seeing beauty.” Rose makes him want to be open, honest with his thoughts. Maybe, he thinks darkly, if he voices them she’ll finally realise how much of a danger he is.

“Doctor,” Rose’s voice is soft, pained. “Doctor, listen to me, wars? They have to end, and that means making a hard decision. But that doesn’t mean that you didn’t deserve to survive, because you did. Everyone deserves to survive; it’s tough to see that when you’re the only one to, but don’t ever say you didn’t deserve it. That’s survivor’s guilt. And as for me? You didn’t force me to come here, and you don’t force me to stay. I came, and I stay because I want to. Because, yeah, I’ve been through things I wouldn’t back on earth, but I’ve also seen things, beautiful things, I wouldn’t’ve otherwise. And it’s not like my life on earth has been nothing but good, cos it ain’t been, so you haven’t ‘taken me away from safety’.” Rose squeezes his arm tighter.

“And do you know why I stay? And it’s not for the beauties of the universe, although that is an upside, it’s because of you. This life, it’s wonderful and I’m so glad I’ve been able to see it all out there—but if it was anyone else but you offering this life to me? Nah, I wouldn’t be here. That’s just down to you,” Rose’s words are sincere, her voice flooded with all kinds of emotions—the Doctor daren’t name them. Tears are once again brought to the Doctor’s eyes, but this time they’re because of Rose, because of how… how unbelievable she is.

He brings his hand, the one not tangled in hers, to her face. He has to shift uncomfortably to do so, pain shooting through him, but he bares through it. “Life seems a lot more worth living when you’re in it,” the Doctor allows for one moment of unfiltered truth, his words spoken softly but honestly, his expression unguarded. He allows those rarely acknowledged emotions, the feelings he holds for Rose, to be displayed openly on his face, in his words.

Rose is his light, his guide through the darkness. She’s his world, the Doctor knows that only too well, and he wants her to know. To know that there would be no other person he ever goes back for twice, no other person he’d want to have by his side at all times, no other person he misses as much as he misses her, even when she’s by his side.

He doesn’t say this all to her, yet he thinks she understands. She always does.

It’s why he loves her.

#doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #nine x rose #ninth doctor x rose tyler #rose tyler #ninth doctor #hurt and comfort #my fic #doctor who fanfiction #ninerose

47 notes · View notes

heartslogos · 5 years

Text

newfragile yellows [554]

Ellana’s knees are shaking and her stomach curls violently, threatening to send the little lunch she’d had sputtering back up her throat in between gasps and choking laughter. Ellana’s long past the point of crying or screaming when it comes to fear. Something about being submitted through what essentially amounts to immense amounts of psychological and physical torture during her formative years mixed something up in her head and now Ellana’s default reaction to extreme fear is to burst into hysterical laughter while her mind screams down existential dread. But at least it doesn’t leave her completely useless.

Her skin feels cold and clammy, even as the side of her face prickles from where the Iron Bull’s calm gaze watches her.

“We can stop,” He reminds her. Gently. She hates his gentleness. She hates everything about him, right now, and knows it’s unfair of her to do so.

“No,” Ellana says, forcing her jaw to be complaint rather than to rattle up and down like a hyena. “Keep going.”

All the other trainees have cleared out for the day. It’s just her and him.

She’s waiting for him to say he has other things to do, other job duties he needs to take care of that aren’t trying to get her to do one decent Patronus. She’s fairly certain that she wouldn’t even need a fifty percent success rate to get out of this class. If she could just do one it’d be enough. She’s heard the higher ups talking. She hears a lot of things.

She just needs one passable Patronus and she’ll be done with this.

The Iron Bull never says anything about the one Patronus she’s yet to complete, and he never says anything about him needing to do other things. The Iron Bull only calls a close to their training sessions if someone else comes in and says one of them is needed, if they run out of time in the training room, or when Ellana reaches her absolute limit and is forced to swallow her pride and her laughter and call it quits.

His patience is infuriating. She wishes he’d just say it. Whatever he’s thinking. Probably something along the lines of disappointment or exasperation. Maybe even disdain.

The Witch of her Age, Ellana Lavellan, can’t cast one single fucking Patronus to, literally, save her damned life.

“This isn’t working,” the Iron Bull finally says. No friggin’ duh. Ellana’s been at this for literal months. It’s been almost a goddamn year.

She’s already on Auror missions, despite not having passed this one course, and supposedly they’re going to fudge the dates or whatever for records once she passes this thing.

They did the same for Maxwell. Not dying in the Tournament was enough to get him that kind of treatment, even if he finished last.

“This is useless. You can’t do a Patronus,” the Iron Bull says.

Ellana glares up at him. He just looks back at her, calm and factual.

“So what?” Ellana snaps. “We lie and say you saw me do one?”

“No, we change tactics,” he replies. “There’s another way to conjure one.”

Ellana bites back the snap of why didn’t you say that twelve damned months ago? Because even if she hates this situation and she despises everything about this, she’s not about to snap his head off when he’s trying to give her a way out.

“It doesn’t work as well as the happy memory thing. But obviously happy memories aren’t working for you. There are some people who just…don’t work that way,” the Iron Bull explains, watching her for reactions. Ellana barks out a bitter laugh.

“Do go on.”

“It’s harder than a happy memory, and harder to hold onto,” he says, “But if you can imagine something…satisfying. It doesn’t have to be something real. Or something that’s happened. It doesn’t have to be a memory. It can just be something you want. Like…revenge. To hurt someone. To watch someone suffer or be humiliated or get what’s coming to them. You imagine the satisfaction you’d get from something like that. And maybe, if you can imagine that kind of thing clear enough, feel it deep enough, and hold onto that feeling, you can squeeze out a Patronus.”

“It sounds twisted,” Ellana says. “Like the opposite of a Patronus.”

“It’s some kind of happy,” Bull points out. “And for some people, when faced with doom and despair and an all around sense of dread, it’s easier to react with vengeance than with pure hope.”

Ellana closes her eyes, tamping down on all of her nerves and the laughter and the aching weariness she’s carried with her for years. And she nods.

“Do it.”

Ellana draws herself up, rolling her neck and shaking out her arms, shifting her grip on her wand as she opens her eyes and the Iron Bull releases the containment field on the Dementor, stepping behind the shielded panel.

She can feel the cold and the draining hurt as it draws over to her.

Ellana breathes in that stinging misery, draws it deep into her lungs, and imagines the faces of every single tournament official. She conjures the sounds of their voices as they talked about her and over her. The journalists who wrote about her and spun all those rumors about her and her friends and her family, and kept spinning them long after the tournament ended, and have kept spinning them until this day. Ellana paints the sounds and faces of every single moment of that tournament, looking up and catching glimpses of those blood hungry, pain thirsting faces and grins waiting for her to fail and hurt and bleed for their damned entertainment.

Ellana imagines every single hurt she’s wanted to turn back onto them over the years. Every single word she bit back, every single dark though and furious rampage she’d held closer to her heart than secrets, a poisonous drum-beat that’s more familiar to her than her own heartbeat, burning so hot that sometimes she swears her blood has to be mixed with poison or wyvern’s ichor by now.

And she images the peace, at last, that would follow. Finally. The silence. The relief. To be free at last of her teenage self.

She raises her wand and she doesn’t hear the words over the pounding of her heart in her own ears, but she sees the burst of white light, shaky and rough, but there. She sees it as it keeps coming and coming out of her wand, a light cloud that deters the Dementor for a moment, before it pushes on. And then the cloud solidifies, rounding on the Dementor that just passed through it, and pounces with huge claws and vengeful fangs.

Ellana laughs. Delighted and satisfied as the Dementor is corralled back into its containment unit and the shields around it go back up.

The tiger paces in front of the unit, snarl on its lips as relief makes her fingertips feel like she’s dipped them in molten gold.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until the Iron Bull offers her a kerchief and Ellana smiles up at him.

“It worked,” Ellana croaks out. The Iron Bull examines her for a long moment, and then nods, offering his own, small smile back.

“Congratulations, Auror Lavellan. You’ve completed this course.”

Ellana looks at her Patronus, the urge to scream swelling up within her the longer she looks at it. A happy scream. A free scream.

(Not a snake. Or a rat. Or a rabbit. Or any of the things she had feared — coward, traitor, turn-coat, weak-willed scum. But Kaaras. Strong, bold, passionate Kaaras, unrestrained and powerful, purposeful, with every pad of its large paws.)

“Thank you,” Ellana says. And she means it. And she means so many other things, too, but she can’t say them. Because she would have to explain why she’s thankful to know that this reflection of herself is a tiger, and everything behind that particular fear that hadn’t come to pass.

But the Iron Bull just rests his hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

No further words needed.

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

1 note · View note