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hellofeanor · 3 years ago

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Fëanorian Quenya

Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.

I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.

So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.

The stuff probably everybody knows already

For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.

Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.

Why tho

Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.

So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.

Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.

So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!

“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”

“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”

Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.

Okay so here’s how it works

Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.

Some examples:

Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.

While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.

Which other elves used this sound in their speech?

Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.

When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.

What this means for your fanfic or whatever

The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.

If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)

It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.

Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.

(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)

Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)

Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!

#feanor #silmarillion #quenya #tolkien #middle earth

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recycledcactus · 2 years ago

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Hello Rece, my old friend!I have some news!

Number one - apparently this lad i used to like like has a crush on me now, so that's fun

Number two - as I'm writing this, (26/12) it is my birthday in two days!! how fun!! i love getting old!!

Number three - after pondering over it, i have decided that i will become immortal.Thank you for your time!!

Yours truly,Jane/Sunny

(Shakespearean Ver.)

good morrow to you, sir Rece, mine fusty cousin! I has't some exciting news!

Number one - apparently this lad i hath used to like like hath a crush on me now, so that's fun

Number two - as lest I writing this, (26/12) t is mine birthday in two days!! how excit'ment!! i love getting fusty!!

Number three - after pondering ov'r t, i has't hath decided that i wilt becometh immortal.

Thank thee for thy time!! Yours truly, Jane/Sunny

Anyways, how are you?? :))

Sunny!!! HI!!!!

Number one - 'fun' as in. :( man we didn't align correctly. or 'fun' as in haha that's funny

Number two - BIRTHDAY TOMORROW?? WAHOOO!!!! my friend has a birthday in two days!! we're going bowling and then i think we're gonna watch movie in her cabin and eat candy. i haven't been bowling in a long time... do you have any birthday plans?

Number three - good idea! I debated it, but then existential dread overtook me. you know how it is.

i'm doing good! I've had quite the busy christmas, but i guess not as busy as most years? my brother got me lots of candy like i asked so now i have stuff to munch on when i inevitably have to do more homework come january. i've been listening to Rule #4: Fish in a Birdcage recently and ohohohoho the mental illness....

Yours jesterly, Rece

(PS: i also very much love the Shakespearean version)

#i also. just noticed that you sent me an ask who knows when and its just been in my inbox #tumblr what the fuck. tell me when i get asks #sunny my beloved #asks

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years ago

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O Queen, if I could be in your presence all the time, my heart should be beyond joyful. Allow me to continue to bestow my affection upon you, with flowers and song and words of love. If it be the tide of my words that moves you so, kindly allow me to drown in your ocean.

Perhaps you have guessed correctly, but I am not yet worthy to stand in your presence unveiled. Let me remain anonymous a few moments more, if only to revel your court with my song, and to continue to tell you of my yearning for you from afar. Does my queen have a request for a song?

Perhaps I shall sing you a song now, one that suits the curl of the shell of your ear. A line, here: " you came to the table and went all in, with a single word and a gentle touch, you turned a moment into forever."

When I am gone, you need only call for me and I shall return to you, for I cannot be kept away long. It is your words and your beauty, that keeps you dear in mine own heart. But how can I be worthy of such a love? I am but a humble stranger, and you, the queen of the realm.

There is naught to forgive. Your words alight my heart like a bonfire, and I shall dance for you happily.

Come, death and welcome-- my queen wills it so. Let us talk. It is not yet day.

Yours,

Verily 💌

To my shame, I have to beg of you again your forgiveness. I do confess that as I have fallen under your spell, it appears I forgot the spelling of words. But oh, this shame I shall endure a thousand times over, if only you shall keep me bespelled.

Verily, you are too generous! Flowers, song and words of love? Why, my heart longs to accept these gracious offerings, yet does my mind tell me nay! What shall be thought of us if anyone were to discover the gifts you bestow onto me? Oh, I fear we shall be shamed for our indecency. Yet...do I find myself incapable of scorning these gifts which you give to me with such love. So I shall accept them. Yet greedy is my heart and soul, so I must ask of you one more thing: Drown not, my devoted friend!

Is that what you are? I fear I do not know how to address you. You asked for friendship, which I granted. Still here I am, yearning for more, hoping with all my heart to hear but another word of love from you. O how I wish to know you, yet will I grant you your wish, if it be love that makes you utter it and not deception.

My dear knight – For that’s what you must be, in troth.

As full of honour as thou art, and love.

If I trusted you with my heart,

Could you be trusted to stand guard?

For see, you vanish in the night,

so you can’t truly be a knight.

So what couldst thou be?

A rogue or thief with terrible intent

– to steal my heart?

Yet, I repent,

If to steal is your design,

Fret not, my love. My heart is thine.

I give it willingly to thee.

Lest...you are still deceiving me.

Pray tell me, you come not to jest.

Say you don’t juggle the heart which you tore out my chest.

If still you do, love, drop it not.

And say you have not come to mock

The affection which inside me gleams.

Perhaps your love is but a dream?

But no, forgive me this spell of fervour. It would seem in my passion I forgot myself and my trust in you. I did mean nothing in calling you a rogue or a jester. I know you could steal nothing of mine, since all I would give freely to thee. I know you could not be a fool – other than be foolishly in love, like me.

Oh, believe you me, my heart, I have no request for a song, for any verse that would fall from thy lips, I would catch gladly in mine hands and press them to my bosom, where my heart shall hear and delight in your sweet melodies.

I know not how to comprehend such loving verse as that which you sent. Mine eyes have never beheld such a gentle melody. Pray tell, did it come from thee? Didst thou pluck a feather of your own to write such loving verse, dear songbird of mine? Your song hath touched my soul. If music be the food of love, play on!

I do so wish to call for thee, yet how can I do so when I know not what to call thee?

I assure thee, there is no need for secrecy.

Lest... no. No, it shan’t - it cannot be!

Yet...why hide thyself, left thy name would be mine enemy?

Dost thou attempt what our tragic friend Romeo did not comprehend? “Deny thy father and refuse thy name,” so called his love to him. Do you refuse thy name for you fear I would be forced to hate thee if I knew it?

I pray it is not so, yet shall nightmares plague me this very night, haunting my soul with fear of what your name might be.

I should not yearn, yet do so still.

So, with the words of wiser fool, I will

Bid thee farewell:

“I am gone, sir, And anon, sir, I’ll be with you again.”

If thou art no sir but a lady or a different sort of gentry folk, I shall miss you all the same.

Farewell, my songbird

#mysterious friend #mysterious lover?#or perhaps mysterious enemy?#I shall have to wait and find out #ask #anon #my dear i hope you know you're making my day XD #look at what you made me do #you made me write poetry!

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path-of-my-childhood · 5 years ago

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The Rolling Stone Interview: Taylor Swift

By: Brian Hiatt for The Rolling Stone Magazine Date: September 18th 2019

In her most in-depth and introspective interview in years, Swift tells all about the rocky road to 'Lover' and much, much more.

Taylor Swift bursts into her mom’s Nashville kitchen, smiling, looking remarkably like Taylor Swift. (That red-lip, classic thing? Check.) “I need someone to help dye my hair pink,” she says, and moments later, her ends match her sparkly nail polish, sneakers, and the stripes on her button-down. It’s all in keeping with the pastel aesthetic of her new album, Lover; black-leather combat-Taylor from her previous album cycle has handed back the phone. Around the black-granite kitchen island, all is calm and normal, as Swift’s mom, dad, and younger brother pass through. Her mom’s two dogs, one very small, one very large, pounce upon visitors with slurping glee. It could be any 29-year-old’s weekend visit with her parents, if not for the madness looming a few feet down the hall.

In an airy terrace, 113 giddy, weepy, shaky, still-in-disbelief fans are waiting for the start of one of Swift’s secret sessions, sacred rituals in Swift-dom. She’s about to play them her seventh album, as-yet unreleased on this Sunday afternoon in early August, and offer copious commentary. Also, she made cookies. Just before the session, Swift sits down in her mom’s study (where she “operates the Google,” per her daughter) to chat for a few minutes. The black-walled room is decorated with black-and-white classic-rock photos, including shots of Bruce Springsteen and, unsurprisingly, James Taylor; there are also more recent shots of Swift posing with Kris Kristofferson and playing with Def Leppard, her mom’s favorite band.

In a corner is an acoustic guitar Swift played as a teenager. She almost certainly wrote some well-known songs on it, but can’t recall which ones. “It would be kind of weird to finish a song and be like, ‘And this moment, I shall remember,’'” she says, laughing. “‘This guitar hath been anointed with my sacred tuneage!'”

The secret session itself is, as the name suggests, deeply off-the-record; it can be confirmed that she drank some white wine, since her glass pops up in some Instagram pictures. She stays until 5 a.m., chatting and taking photos with every one of the fans. Five hours later, we continue our talk at length in Swift’s Nashville condo, in almost exactly the same spot where we did one of our interviews for her 2012 Rolling Stone cover story. She’s hardly changed its whimsical decor in the past seven years (one of the few additions is a pool table replacing the couch where we sat last time), so it’s an old-Taylor time capsule. There’s still a huge bunny made of moss in one corner, and a human-size birdcage in the living room, though the view from the latter is now of generic new condo buildings instead of just distant green hills. Swift is barefoot now, in pale-blue jeans and a blue button-down tied at the waist; her hair is pulled back, her makeup minimal.

How to sum up the past three years of Taylor Swift? In July 2016, after Swift expressed discontent with Kanye West’s “Famous,” Kim Kardashian did her best to destroy her, unleashing clandestine recordings of a phone conversation between Swift and West. In the piecemeal audio, Swift can be heard agreeing to the line “…me and Taylor might still have sex.” We don’t hear her learning about the next lyric, the one she says bothered her — “I made that bitch famous” — and as she’ll explain, there’s more to her side of the story. The backlash was, well, swift, and overwhelming. It still hasn’t altogether subsided. Later that year, Swift chose not to make an endorsement in the 2016 election, which definitely didn’t help. In the face of it all, she made Reputation — fierce, witty, almost-industrial pop offset by love songs of crystalline beauty — and had a wildly successful stadium tour. Somewhere in there, she met her current boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, and judging by certain songs on Lover, the relationship is serious indeed.

Lover is Swift’s most adult album, a rebalancing of sound and persona that opens doors to the next decade of her career; it’s also a welcome return to the sonic diversity of 2012’s Red, with tracks ranging from the St. Vincent-assisted über-bop “Cruel Summer” to the unbearably poignant country-fied “Soon You’ll Get Better” (with the Dixie Chicks) and the “Shake It Off”-worthy pep of “Paper Rings.”

She wants to talk about the music, of course, but she is also ready to explain the past three years of her life, in depth, for the first time. The conversation is often not a light one. She’s built up more armor in the past few years, but still has the opposite of a poker face — you can see every micro-emotion wash over her as she ponders a question, her nose wrinkling in semi-ironic offense at the term “old-school pop stars,” her preposterously blue eyes glistening as she turns to darker subjects. In her worst moments, she says, “You feel like you’re being completely pulled into a riptide. So what are you going to do? Splash a lot? Or hold your breath and hope you somehow resurface? And that’s what I did. And it took three years. Sitting here doing an interview — the fact that we’ve done an interview before is the only reason I’m not in a full body sweat.”

When we talked seven years ago, everything was going so well for you, and you were very worried that something would go wrong. Yeah, I kind of knew it would. I felt like I was walking along the sidewalk, knowing eventually the pavement was going to crumble and I was gonna fall through. You can’t keep winning and have people like it. People love “new” so much — they raise you up the flagpole, and you’re waving at the top of the flagpole for a while. And then they’re like, “Wait, this new flag is what we actually love.” They decide something you’re doing is incorrect, that you’re not standing for what you should stand for. You’re a bad example. Then if you keep making music and you survive, and you keep connecting with people, eventually they raise you a little bit up the flagpole again, and then they take you back down, and back up again. And it happens to women more than it happens to men in music.

It also happened to you a few times on a smaller scale, didn’t it? I’ve had several upheavals in my career. When I was 18, they were like, “She doesn’t really write those songs.” So my third album I wrote by myself as a reaction to that. Then they decided I was a serial dater — a boy-crazy man-eater — when I was 22. And so I didn’t date anyone for, like, two years. And then they decided in 2016 that absolutely everything about me was wrong. If I did something good, it was for the wrong reasons. If I did something brave, I didn’t do it correctly. If I stood up for myself, I was throwing a tantrum. And so I found myself in this endless mockery echo chamber. It’s just like — I have a brother who’s two and a half years younger, and we spent the first half of our lives trying to kill each other and the second half as best friends. You know that game kids play? I’d be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And Austin would be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And I’m like, “He’s copying me.” And he’d be like, “He’s copying me.” Always in a really obnoxious voice that sounds all twisted. That’s what it felt like in 2016. So I decided to just say nothing. It wasn’t really a decision. It was completely involuntary.

But you also had good things happen in your life at the same time — that’s part of Reputation. The moments of my true story on that album are songs like “Delicate,” “New Year’s Day,” “Call It What You Want,” “Dress.” The one-two punch, bait-and-switch of Reputation is that it was actually a love story. It was a love story in amongst chaos. All the weaponized sort of metallic battle anthems were what was going on outside. That was the battle raging on that I could see from the windows, and then there was what was happening inside my world — my newly quiet, cozy world that was happening on my own terms for the first time. . . . It’s weird, because in some of the worst times of my career, and reputation, dare I say, I had some of the most beautiful times — in my quiet life that I chose to have. And I had some of the most incredible memories with the friends I now knew cared about me, even if everyone hated me. The bad stuff was really significant and damaging. But the good stuff will endure. The good lessons — you realize that you can’t just show your life to people.

Meaning? I used to be like a golden retriever, just walking up to everybody, like, wagging my tail. “Sure, yeah, of course! What do you want to know? What do you need?” Now, I guess, I have to be a little bit more like a fox.

Do your regrets on that extend to the way the “girl squad” thing was perceived? Yeah, I never would have imagined that people would have thought, “This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.” Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like, “Oh, this did not go the way that I thought it was going to go.” I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to do. The patriarchy allows men to have bro packs. If you’re a male artist, there’s an understanding that you have respect for your counterparts.

Whereas women are expected to be feuding with each other? It’s assumed that we hate each other. Even if we’re smiling and photographed together with our arms around each other, it’s assumed there’s a knife in our pocket.

How much of a danger was there of falling into that thought pattern yourself? The messaging is dangerous, yes. Nobody is immune, because we’re a product of what society and peer groups and now the internet tells us, unless we learn differently from experience.

You once sang about a star who “took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out.” In 2016, you wrote in your journal, “This summer is the apocalypse.” How close did you come to quitting altogether? I definitely thought about that a lot. I thought about how words are my only way of making sense of the world and expressing myself — and now any words I say or write are being twisted against me. People love a hate frenzy. It’s like piranhas. People had so much fun hating me, and they didn’t really need very many reasons to do it. I felt like the situation was pretty hopeless. I wrote a lot of really aggressively bitter poems constantly. I wrote a lot of think pieces that I knew I’d never publish, about what it’s like to feel like you’re in a shame spiral. And I couldn’t figure out how to learn from it. Because I wasn’t sure exactly what I did that was so wrong. That was really hard for me, because I cannot stand it when people can’t take criticism. So I try to self-examine, and even though that’s really hard and hurts a lot sometimes, I really try to understand where people are coming from when they don’t like me. And I completely get why people wouldn’t like me. Because, you know, I’ve had my insecurities say those things — and things 1,000 times worse.

But some of your former critics have become your friends, right? Some of my best friendships came from people publicly criticizing me and then it opening up a conversation. Hayley Kiyoko was doing an interview and she made an example about how I get away with singing about straight relationships and people don’t give me shit the way they give her shit for singing about girls — and it’s totally valid. Like, Ella — Lorde — the first thing she ever said about me publicly was a criticism of my image or whatever. But I can’t really respond to someone saying, “You, as a human being, are fake.” And if they say you’re playing the victim, that completely undermines your ability to ever verbalize how you feel unless it’s positive. So, OK, should I just smile all the time and never say anything hurts me? Because that’s really fake. Or should I be real about how I’m feeling and have valid, legitimate responses to things that happened to me in my life? But wait, would that be playing the victim?

How do you escape that mental trap? Since I was 15 years old, if people criticized me for something, I changed it. So you realize you might be this amalgamation of criticisms that were hurled at you, and not an actual person who’s made any of these choices themselves. And so I decided I needed to live a quiet life, because a quiet personal life invites no discussion, dissection, and debate. I didn’t realize I was inviting people to feel they had the right to sort of play my life like a video game.

“The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because she’s dead!” was funny — but how seriously should we take it? There’s a part of me that definitely is always going to be different. I needed to grow up in many ways. I needed to make boundaries, to figure out what was mine and what was the public’s. That old version of me that shares unfailingly and unblinkingly with a world that is probably not fit to be shared with? I think that’s gone. But it was definitely just, like, a fun moment in the studio with me and Jack [Antonoff] where I wanted to play on the idea of a phone call — because that’s how all of this started, a stupid phone call I shouldn’t have picked up.

It would have been much easier if that’s what you’d just said. It would have been so, so great if I would have just said that [laughs].

Some of the Lover iconography does suggest old Taylor’s return, though. I don’t think I’ve ever leaned into the old version of myself more creatively than I have on this album, where it’s very, very autobiographical. But also moments of extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession.

Did you do anything wrong from your perspective in dealing with that phone call? Is there anything you regret? The world didn’t understand the context and the events that led up to it. Because nothing ever just happens like that without some lead-up. Some events took place to cause me to be pissed off when he called me a bitch. That was not just a singular event. Basically, I got really sick of the dynamic between he and I. And that wasn’t just based on what happened on that phone call and with that song — it was kind of a chain reaction of things.

I started to feel like we reconnected, which felt great for me — because all I ever wanted my whole career after that thing happened in 2009 was for him to respect me. When someone doesn’t respect you so loudly and says you literally don’t deserve to be here — I just so badly wanted that respect from him, and I hate that about myself, that I was like, “This guy who’s antagonizing me, I just want his approval.” But that’s where I was. And so we’d go to dinner and stuff. And I was so happy, because he would say really nice things about my music. It just felt like I was healing some childhood rejection or something from when I was 19. But the 2015 VMAs come around. He’s getting the Vanguard Award. He called me up beforehand — I didn’t illegally record it, so I can’t play it for you. But he called me up, maybe a week or so before the event, and we had maybe over an hourlong conversation, and he’s like, “I really, really would like for you to present this Vanguard Award to me, this would mean so much to me,” and went into all the reasons why it means so much, because he can be so sweet. He can be the sweetest. And I was so stoked that he asked me that. And so I wrote this speech up, and then we get to the VMAs and I make this speech and he screams, “MTV got Taylor Swift up here to present me this award for ratings!” [His exact words: “You know how many times they announced Taylor was going to give me the award ’cause it got them more ratings?”] And I’m standing in the audience with my arm around his wife, and this chill ran through my body. I realized he is so two-faced. That he wants to be nice to me behind the scenes, but then he wants to look cool, get up in front of everyone and talk shit. And I was so upset. He wanted me to come talk to him after the event in his dressing room. I wouldn’t go. So then he sent this big, big thing of flowers the next day to apologize. And I was like, “You know what? I really don’t want us to be on bad terms again. So whatever, I’m just going to move past this.” So when he gets on the phone with me, and I was so touched that he would be respectful and, like, tell me about this one line in the song.

The line being “. . . me and Taylor might still have sex”? [Nods] And I was like, “OK, good. We’re back on good terms.” And then when I heard the song, I was like, “I’m done with this. If you want to be on bad terms, let’s be on bad terms, but just be real about it.” And then he literally did the same thing to Drake. He gravely affected the trajectory of Drake’s family and their lives. It’s the same thing. Getting close to you, earning your trust, detonating you. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore because I get worked up, and I don’t want to just talk about negative shit all day, but it’s the same thing. Go watch Drake talk about what happened. [West denied any involvement in Pusha-T’s revelation of Drake’s child and apologized for sending “negative energy” toward Drake.]

When did you get to the place that’s described on the opening track of Lover, “I Forgot That You Existed”? It was sometime on the Reputation tour, which was the most transformative emotional experience of my career. That tour put me in the healthiest, most balanced place I’ve ever been. After that tour, bad stuff can happen to me, but it doesn’t level me anymore. The stuff that happened a couple of months ago with Scott [Borchetta] would have leveled me three years ago and silenced me. I would have been too afraid to speak up. Something about that tour made me disengage from some part of public perception I used to hang my entire identity on, which I now know is incredibly unhealthy.

What was the actual revelation? It’s almost like I feel more clear about the fact that my job is to be an entertainer. It’s not like this massive thing that sometimes my brain makes it into, and sometimes the media makes it into, where we’re all on this battlefield and everyone’s gonna die except one person, who wins. It’s like, “No, do you know what? Katy is going to be legendary. Gaga is going to be legendary. Beyoncé is going to be legendary. Rihanna is going to be legendary. Because the work that they made completely overshadows the myopia of this 24-hour news cycle of clickbait.” And somehow I realized that on tour, as I was looking at people’s faces. We’re just entertaining people, and it’s supposed to be fun.

It’s interesting to look at these albums as a trilogy. 1989 was really a reset button. Oh, in every way. I’ve been very vocal about the fact that that decision was mine and mine alone, and it was definitely met with a lot of resistance. Internally.

After realizing that things were not all smiles with your former label boss, Scott Borchetta, it’s hard not to wonder how much additional conflict there was over things like that. A lot of the best things I ever did creatively were things that I had to really fight — and I mean aggressively fight — to have happen. But, you know, I’m not like him, making crazy, petty accusations about the past. . . . When you have a business relationship with someone for 15 years, there are going to be a lot of ups and a lot of downs. But I truly, legitimately thought he looked at me as the daughter he never had. And so even though we had a lot of really bad times and creative differences, I was going to hang my hat on the good stuff. I wanted to be friends with him. I thought I knew what betrayal felt like, but this stuff that happened with him was a redefinition of betrayal for me, just because it felt like it was family. To go from feeling like you’re being looked at as a daughter to this grotesque feeling of “Oh, I was actually his prized calf that he was fattening up to sell to the slaughterhouse that would pay the most.”

He accused you of declining the Parkland march and Manchester benefit show. Unbelievable. Here’s the thing: Everyone in my team knew if Scooter Braun brings us something, do not bring it to me. The fact that those two are in business together after the things he said about Scooter Braun — it’s really hard to shock me. And this was utterly shocking. These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work. And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of scotch to themselves. Because they pulled one over on me and got this done so sneakily that I didn’t even see it coming. And I couldn’t say anything about it.

In some ways, on a musical level, Lover feels like the most indie-ish of your albums. That’s amazing, thank you. It’s definitely a quirky record. With this album, I felt like I sort of gave myself permission to revisit older themes that I used to write about, maybe look at them with fresh eyes. And to revisit older instruments — older in terms of when I used to use them. Because when I was making 1989, I was so obsessed with it being this concept of Eighties big pop, whether it was Eighties in its production or Eighties in its nature, just having these big choruses — being unapologetically big. And then Reputation, there was a reason why I had it all in lowercase. I felt like it wasn’t unapologetically commercial. It’s weird, because that is the album that took the most amount of explanation, and yet it’s the one I didn’t talk about. In the Reputation secret sessions I kind of had to explain to my fans, “I know we’re doing a new thing here that I’d never done before.” I’d never played with characters before. For a lot of pop stars, that’s a really fun trick, where they’re like, “This is my alter ego.” I had never played with that before. It’s really fun. And it was just so fun to play with on tour — the darkness and the bombast and the bitterness and the love and the ups and the downs of an emotional-turmoil record.

“Daylight” is a beautiful song. It feels like it could have been the title track. It almost was. I thought it might be a little bit too sentimental.

And I guess maybe too on-the-nose. Right, yeah, way too on-the-nose. That’s what I thought, because I was kind of in my head referring to the album as Daylight for a while. But Lover, to me, was a more interesting title, more of an accurate theme in my head, and more elastic as a concept. That’s why “You Need to Calm Down” can make sense within the theme of the album — one of the things it addresses is how certain people are not allowed to live their lives without discrimination just based on who they love.

For the more organic songs on this album, like “Lover” and “Paper Rings,” you said you were imagining a wedding band playing them. How often does that kind of visualization shape a song’s production style? Sometimes I’ll have a strange sort of fantasy of where the songs would be played. And so for songs like “Paper Rings” or “Lover” I was imagining a wedding-reception band, but in the Seventies, so they couldn’t play instruments that wouldn’t have been invented yet. I have all these visuals. For Reputation, it was nighttime cityscape. I didn’t really want any — or very minimal — traditional acoustic instruments. I imagined old warehouse buildings that had been deserted and factory spaces and all this industrial kind of imagery. So I wanted the production to have nothing wooden. There’s no wood floors on that album. Lover is, like, completely just a barn wood floor and some ripped curtains flowing in the breeze, and fields of flowers and, you know, velvet.

How did you come to use high school metaphors to touch on politics with “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”? There are so many influences that go into that particular song. I wrote it a couple of months after midterm elections, and I wanted to take the idea of politics and pick a metaphorical place for that to exist. And so I was thinking about a traditional American high school, where there’s all these kinds of social events that could make someone feel completely alienated. And I think a lot of people in our political landscape are just feeling like we need to huddle up under the bleachers and figure out a plan to make things better.

I feel like your Fall Out Boy fandom might’ve slipped out in that title. I love Fall Out Boy so much. Their songwriting really influenced me, lyrically, maybe more than anyone else. They take a phrase and they twist it. “Loaded God complex/Cock it and pull it”? When I heard that, I was like, “I’m dreaming.”

You sing about “American stories burning before me.” Do you mean the illusions of what America is? It’s about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it’s also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line “I see the high-fives between the bad guys” because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it’s horrific.

You’re in this weird place of being a blond, blue-eyed pop star in this era — to the point where until you endorsed some Democratic candidates, right-wingers, and worse, assumed you were on their side. I don’t think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn’t hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn’t have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that’s ever happened in my career. I’m always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, “Guys, I can’t. I can’t do this. I need you to just take over for me and I’m just going to disappear.”

Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team? I didn’t even see that, but, like, if that happened, that’s just disgusting. There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it’s become something I’m now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn’t really know that this could happen. But I’m just focused on the 2020 election. I’m really focused on it. I’m really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don’t want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary’s campaign was used against her in a lot of ways.

You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn’t say “fuck it” and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November? Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It’s like a daily ritual.

Were you just convinced that it would backfire? That’s literally what it was. Yeah. It’s a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That’s not me being dramatic. And you know that.

There were a lot of people in those stadiums. It’s true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you’re wearing that red hat, you’re one of them. And if we’re going to do anything to change what’s happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone’s on our side or if they’re on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, “You’re a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We’re going to the mall.”

Here’s a hard question for you: As a superfan, what did you think of the Game of Thrones finale? Oh, my God. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. So, clinically our brain responds to our favorite show ending the same way we feel when a breakup occurs. I read that. There’s no good way for it to end. No matter what would have happened in that finale, people still would have been really upset because of the fact that it’s over.

I was glad to see you confirm that your line about a “list of names” was a reference to Arya. I like to be influenced by movies and shows and books and stuff. I love to write about a character dynamic. And not all of my life is going to be as kind of complex as these intricate webs of characters on TV shows and movies.

There was a time when it was. That’s amazing.

But is the idea that as your own life becomes less dramatic, you’ll need to pull ideas from other places? I don’t feel like that yet. I think I might feel like that possibly when I have a family. If I have a family. [Pauses] I don’t know why I said that! But that’s what I’ve heard from other artists, that they were very protective of their personal life, so they had to draw inspiration from other things. But again, I don’t know why I said that. Because I don’t know how my life is going to go or what I’m going to do. But right now, I feel like it’s easier for me to write than it ever was.

You don’t talk about your relationship, but you’ll sing about it in wildly revealing detail. What’s the difference for you? Singing about something helps you to express it in a way that feels more accurate. You cannot, no matter what, put words in a quote and have it move someone the same way as if you heard those words with the perfect sonic representation of that feeling... There is that weird conflict in being a confessional songwriter and then also having my life, you know, 10 years ago, be catapulted into this strange pop-culture thing.

I’ve heard you say that people got too interested in which song was about who, which I can understand — at the same time, to be fair, it was a game you played into, wasn’t it? I realized very early on that no matter what, that was going to happen to me regardless. So when you realize the rules of the game you’re playing and how it will affect you, you got to look at the board and make your strategy. But at the same time, writing songs has never been a strategic element of my career. But I’m not scared anymore to say that other things in my career, like how to market an album, are strictly strategic. And I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to. And so I’m sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business. But, it’s a different part of my brain than I use to write.

You’ve been masterminding your business since you were a teenager. Yeah, but I’ve also tried very hard — and this is one thing I regret — to convince people that I wasn’t the one holding the puppet strings of my marketing existence, or the fact that I sit in a conference room several times a week and come up with these ideas. I felt for a very long time that people don’t want to think of a woman in music who isn’t just a happy, talented accident. We’re all forced to kind of be like, “Aw, shucks, this happened again! We’re still doing well! Aw, that’s so great.” Alex Morgan celebrating scoring a goal at the World Cup and getting shit for it is a perfect example of why we’re not allowed to flaunt or celebrate, or reveal that, like, “Oh, yeah, it was me. I came up with this stuff.” I think it’s really unfair. People love new female artists so much because they’re able to explain that woman’s success. There’s an easy trajectory. Look at the Game of Thrones finale. I specifically really related to Daenerys’ storyline because for me it portrayed that it is a lot easier for a woman to attain power than to maintain it.

I mean, she did murder... It’s a total metaphor! Like, obviously I didn’t want Daenerys to become that kind of character, but in taking away what I chose to take away from it, I thought maybe they’re trying to portray her climbing the ladder to the top was a lot easier than maintaining it, because for me, the times when I felt like I was going insane was when I was trying to maintain my career in the same way that I ascended. It’s easier to get power than to keep it. It’s easier to get acclaim than to keep it. It’s easier to get attention than to keep it.

Well, I guess we should be glad you didn’t have a dragon in 2016... [Fiercely] I told you I don’t like that she did that! But, I mean, watching the show, though, maybe this is a reflection on how we treat women in power, how we are totally going to conspire against them and tear at them until they feel this — this insane shift, where you wonder, like, “What changed?” And I’ve had that happen, like, 60 times in my career where I’m like, “OK, you liked me last year, what changed? I guess I’ll change so I can keep entertaining you guys.”

You once said that your mom could never punish you when you were little because you’d punish yourself. This idea of changing in the face of criticism and needing approval — that’s all part of wanting to be good, right? Whatever that means. But that seems to be a real driving force in your life. Yeah, that’s definitely very perceptive of you. And the question posed to me is, if you kept trying to do good things, but everyone saw those things in a cynical way and assumed them to be done with bad motivation and bad intent, would you still do good things, even though nothing that you did was looked at as good? And the answer is, yes. Criticism that’s constructive is helpful to my character growth. Baseless criticism is stuff I’ve got to toss out now.

That sounds healthy. Is this therapy talking or is this just experience? No, I’ve never been to therapy. I talk to my mom a lot, because my mom is the one who’s seen everything. God, it takes so long to download somebody on the last 29 years of my life, and my mom has seen it all. She knows exactly where I’m coming from. And we talk endlessly. There were times when I used to have really, really, really bad days where we would just be on the phone for hours and hours and hours. I’d write something that I wanted to say, and instead of posting it, I’d just read it to her.

I somehow connect all this to the lyric in “Daylight,” the idea of “so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” — it’s a different kind of confession. I am really glad you liked that line, because that’s something that does bother me, looking back at life and realizing that no matter what, you screw things up. Sometimes there are people that were in your life and they’re not anymore — and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it. I told the fans last night that sometimes on my bad days, I feel like my life is a pile of crap accumulated of only the bad headlines or the bad things that have happened, or the mistakes I’ve made or clichés or rumors or things that people think about me or have thought for the last 15 years. And that was part of the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video, where I had a pile of literal old selves fighting each other.

But, yeah, that line is indicative of my anxiety about how in life you can’t get everything right. A lot of times you make the wrong call, make the wrong decision. Say the wrong thing. Hurt people, even if you didn’t mean to. You don’t really know how to fix all of that. When it’s, like, 29 years’ worth.

To be Mr. “Rolling Stone” for a second, there’s a Springsteen lyric, “Ain’t no one leaving this world, buddy/Without their shirttail dirty or hands a little bloody.” That’s really good! No one gets through it unscathed. No one gets through in one piece. I think that’s a hard thing for a lot of people to grasp. I know it was hard for me, because I kind of grew up thinking, “If I’m nice, and if I try to do the right thing, you know, maybe I can just, like, ace this whole thing.” And it turns out I can’t.

It’s interesting to look at “I Did Something Bad” in this context. You pointing that out is really interesting because it’s something I’ve had to reconcile within myself in the last couple of years — that sort of “good” complex. Because from the time I was a kid I’d try to be kind, be a good person. Try really hard. But you get walked all over sometimes. And how do you respond to being walked all over? You can’t just sit there and eat your salad and let it happen. “I Did Something Bad” was about doing something that was so against what I would usually do. Katy [Perry] and I were talking about our signs. . . . [Laughs] Of course we were.

That’s the greatest sentence ever. [Laughs] I hate you. We were talking about our signs because we had this really, really long talk when we were reconnecting and stuff. And I remember in the long talk, she was like, “If we had one glass of white wine right now, we’d both be crying.” Because we were drinking tea. We’ve had some really good conversations.

We were talking about how we’ve had miscommunications with people in the past, not even specifically with each other. She’s like, “I’m a Scorpio. Scorpios just strike when they feel threatened.” And I was like, “Well, I’m an archer. We literally stand back, assess the situation, process how we feel about it, raise a bow, pull it back, and fire.” So it’s completely different ways of processing pain, confusion, misconception. And oftentimes I’ve had this delay in feeling something that hurts me and then saying that it hurts me. Do you know what I mean? And so I can understand how people in my life would have been like, “Whoa, I didn’t know that was how you felt.” Because it takes me a second.

If you watch the video of the 2009 VMAs, I literally freeze. I literally stand there. And that is how I handle any discomfort, any pain. I stand there, I freeze. And then five minutes later, I know how I feel. But in the moment, I’m probably overreacting and I should be nice. Then I process it, and in five minutes, if it’s gone, it’s past, and I’m like, “I was overreacting, everything’s fine. I can get through this. I’m glad I didn’t say anything harsh in the moment.” But when it’s actually something bad that happened, and I feel really, really hurt or upset about it, I only know after the fact. Because I’ve tried so hard to squash it: “This probably isn’t what you think.” That’s something I had to work on.

You could end up gaslighting yourself. Yeah, for sure. ’Cause so many situations where if I would have said the first thing that came to my mind, people would have been like, “Whoa!” And maybe I would have been wrong or combative. So a couple of years ago I started working on actually just responding to my emotions in a quicker fashion. And it’s really helped with stuff. It’s helped so much because sometimes you get in arguments. But conflict in the moment is so much better than combat after the fact.

Well, thanks. I do feel like I just did a therapy session. As someone who’s never been to therapy, I can safely say that was the best therapy session.

#uhhhh #just by copying and editing text I see it's gonna be good =)#can't wait...#taylor swift #interview #by taylor #lover era #Rolling Stone magazine #Brian Hiatt

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eirikrjs · 5 years ago

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The Satanael Solution

An anon recently sent me their own take on Satanael in P5, beginning with this simple question:

This has been on my mind for some time, but who does Satanael’s compendium entry refer to?

An archangel who is said to be the form of Satan before he fell from Heaven. The second son of God, he rebelled against Him for freedom and bestowed free will and chaos upon humanity.

It got me thinking about it as well. About drawing from the same old wells, that is. If you recall, the book Angels: An Endangered Species by Malcolm Godwin, a tome of dubious character and specious content, seems to be why SMT claims Metatron is violent and why Gabriel became female in SMT2. Keep in mind that this is a book cited in official Atlus bibliographies!

To answer the anon’s question, the “who” is still Satanael. Unsurprisingly, the book also contains the sum total of all Atlus descriptions and depictions of Satanael. The quality of that information is a whole different story, though. If you want to take a shortcut, check out the book excerpts above and keep the Satanael profile and his role in P5 in mind while you do.

Read on to find out lots more!

First, here is the anon’s original submission:

_______________________________________________________

This has been on my mind for some time, but who does Satanael’s compendium entry refer to?

An archangel who is said to be the form of Satan before he fell from Heaven. The second son of God, he rebelled against Him for freedom and bestowed free will and chaos upon humanity.

Most of it is vague enough to be applicable to any devil figure. But the ‘second son of God’ bit kind of makes concrete identification problematic. The Bogomil Satanail, from what I can find, is the first son of God, with Michael-Jesus being the second. The 2 Enoch Satanail, if I remember correctly, never has his order of birth/creation discussed.

Then there’s this bit from Megaten wiki:

In some Gnostic traditions, Satanael is said to be an angel that once served the Demiurge. He rebelled when he realized that the Demiurge was not the true God and granted humanity the knowledge to liberate themselves from the Demiurge.

Is there any basis for this? This story is parroted on TV-tropes and in YouTube comments, but I can’t for the life of me find anything that would corroborate this tale.

Honestly, the best candidate I found is a Satan figure named Beliar from “Questions of Bartholomew”. Let's see how he stacks to the compendium entry:

An archangel who is said to be the form of Satan before he fell from Heaven. Check. Straight up, pre-fall - Satanael, post-fall - Beliar.

The second son of God, Kind of. He repeatedly says how he was the first angel. However (if I correctly understood notes on this page), the Vienna Manuscript version of “Questions of Bartholomew” has him mention that before angels were created, God had his Son. That would make Satanael the second son (if angels = sons of God).

he rebelled against Him for freedom Again, kind of. He rebelled because he refused to worship Adam, which can be interpreted as refusing to follow what he saw an arbitrary order from the authority figure, which in turn can be seen as bid for freedom.

and bestowed free will and chaos upon humanity. Yet again, kind of. He poisoned the water in Eden with his sweat (and hair in some versions), Eve drank it and it corrupted her. I guess the episode with serpent and fruit of tree of knowledge of good and evil follows after that, with Satanael implicitly being the serpent there, but don’t quote me on that. So he introduced disobedience to God, which can be synonymized with chaos and free will.

Beliar’s story contains some narrative parallels with the scenes following the first gameplay segment of Persona 5.

Beliar:

Is brought in for Bartholomew’s interrogation by a very large number of angels (the number varies between versions).

Is chained.

Gets his neck stepped on.

Gives his original angelic name. Until then we only heard his demonic one.

Is forced to recount his tale of how he fell.

Said fall started with refusal to worship Adam, even though God commanded it.

The P5 protagonist:

Is captured and brought in by a very large number of cops.

Is handcuffed.

Gets his head stepped on by the bug-eyed cop.

Gives his civilian name (or rather we give it). Until then we only hear his thief codename.

Recounts his own “crimes”.

Said “crimes” started with confronting Shido, who by the will of society or societal order, which is metaphorically the decision-making God here, has a position that implies automatic respect for him (who also believed himself to be God’s chosen, unless that’s just a Japanese turn of phrase translated too literally).

Finally, Satanael-Beliar seems to have some Gnostic leanings himself, if this quote of his is anything to go by:

And when I came from the ends of the earth Michael said: Worship thou the image of God, which he hath made according to his likeness. But I said: I am fire of fire, I was the first angel formed, and shall worship clay and matter?

Disdain for the materialistic is one of the more common tenets of Gnostic traditions. So I could see this Satanael not getting along with a very materialism-oriented Yaldabaoth, if you put them in the same room (I believe there is a bit more going on in this confrontation, but I’ll save that for another time, when I have the quotes to back up my assumptions).

So, what do you think? Is this a plausible take?

________________________________________________________

First, a fantastic exercise in research! Is it plausible? Probably not. That said, mentioning Beliar/Belial brings up an interesting aside. Here is his profile in the SMT1 remakes:

"Origin: Israel. The fallen angel Satanel. He is known as the prince of lies and swindling. He rides a chariot of fire and has the appearance of two soft-spoken angels. However, contrary to his appearance, he is one of the most evil and lowly beings that exists. It is said that he is the one who brought immorality to Sodom and Gammorah."

Like you said, the Questions of Bartholomew says that Beliar’s/Satan’s pre-fall name is Satanael. That’s the only reason for this blurb in Belial’s profile which is otherwise just the Goetia description. Unfortunately, the Questions of Bartholomew Satanael is still just another devil figure in a Christian worldview, i.e., he’s bad news. And definitely not a demiurge or associated with a demiurge.

As for how Atlus themselves sees Satanael, here’s his profile from Kaneko Pandemonium volume 1:

And machine-transcribed:

サタナエル【キリスト教】サタナエルは、サタナイルとも呼ばれる悪魔で、元は神の息子でキリストと兄弟であるとされる。一説ではうサタンの正式名称ともされている。神の座を奪おうと、サタナエルは天使の3分の1を巻き込んで谋反を起こそうとしたが、未然に発覚してしまい、神により仲間の天使たちとともに天界から追放された。このことから様な異教の神と重ね合わされ、七つの大罪 (高慢・怠惰・羨望・��色・怨念・大食・貪欲) のすべてを司る存在となった。追放されたサタナエルは仲間とともに「第二の天」であるこの世界を作ったという。【登場作品】デビルサマナーソウルハッカーズ [Lv.70/Dark-Chaos]

And machine-translated with some corrections:

Satanael [Christianity] Satanael is a devil also called Satanail and is said to be the son of God and a brother to Christ. According to one theory, it is the formal name of Satan. In order to take the throne of God, Satanael tried to provoke a rebellion involving one-third of the angels, but it was discovered and he was banished from heaven with fellow angels. For this, he was conflated with pagan gods and presided over all Seven Deadly Sins (pride, laziness, envy, lust, hatred, gluttony, and greed). The exiled Satanael is said to have created this world, the "second heaven", with his associates. [Appearances] Devil Summoner Soul Hackers [Lv.70/Dark-Chaos]

So, the non-traditional claims about Satanael are thus:

son of God, brother to Christ

equated with “fallen” deities

he who rules over the Seven Deadly Sins

the creator this world

And here’s the P5 profile for convenience, which is just a condensed version of what you just read:

An archangel who is said to be the form of Satan before he fell from Heaven. The second son of God, he rebelled against Him for freedom and bestowed free will and chaos upon humanity.

That brings us to the source, the Angels book. Note that most of the time when the book says “Satan-el,” it’s just usually as a formality, indeed as the “formal name” of vanilla “accuser” Satan, particularly Satan as angel. I think. Confusingly, note that this “Satan-el” is claimed to also contain with him “Satan”; also he is equated with all the identities and deeds of every other demon named. This use of Satan-el by Godwin seems to have caused a key mistranslation into Japanese conflating his universal figure with the Satanael of Jewish apocrypha, hence the bizarre claims about Satanael in Pandemonium.

Anyway, some revealing Angels quotes from the above scans:

As son of God, brother to Christ:

Equated with other deities:

7 sins in one:

Satan-el as the demiurge (but not creator of “second heaven”; unsure where that comes from):

They totally cribbed from Angels for this profile! And on this last excerpt Godwin seems to casually assume that the all-encompassing baddie Satan-el is absolutely the same as the Gnostic demiurge. Also throughout the whole book, anything supernatural that isn’t a god he interprets as an angel, like Sophia here (but also valkyries; see the Lucifer page). Like I said in one of the other Angels posts, this book may have informed a lot of SMT’s preferential attitude towards wild comparative equivalences.

But most distressingly, Angels does NOT have a bibliography of any kind, just a few books mentioned in its acknowledgements (I investigated those but none mention Satanael in any great capacity). So, it’s impossible to verify where Godwin got his information, if he didn’t just make stuff up. I don’t make that accusation lightly, as the book contains many examples of far-out interpretations that have no basis in tradition.

For one, check out the final paragraph of the above two-page spread on Lucifer for some classic conflation of Hell with the Norse Hel(heim) and a seemingly earnest admission from the author that Helheim is a real place (at least a cave where Norse rituals took place--where is he getting this information???). So basically, this is not a book you want to read for facts, much less one you want to rely on for accurate portrayal of angels or demons.

But besides the profile this also explains other things like the Sinful Shell in P5 that is supposed to represent all 7 sins. But that move could have been called anything; most reading this probably know that P5′s Satanael was meant to be Lucifer and Arsene was originally Mephisto, along with Yaldabaoth being called Metatron in the game files. So that original progression was "minor devil figure --> major devil figure; rebels against the angel called ‘lesser YHWH.’“ It makes a lot of sense!

But considering how broadly Godwin attributes all manner of evil things to Satanael yet is still somehow the original Satan of Judaism/Christianity, switching Lucifer to Satanael was probably about as complex as this hypothetical exchange:

A: What’s another name for Lucifer?

B: Satanael?

A: Perfect!

By the information they had at hand, Satanael is essentially just another name for the general capital-D “Devil” they seemed to want for P5 all along but changed for whatever reason, probably a result of making the first tier personas thief-themed.

As for the Gnostic connections and this quote that is on the Megaten wiki and elsewhere:

I’ve never found any basis for this. It doesn’t seem like Atlus intended for this, either. And even in Angels, Satanael is the demiurge, not a rebel against it!

My guess it’s just fan speculation from misinterpreting sources and names; also fan expectations because the previous two Persona games had comprehensive mythological theming, so P5 must have it too, right? Atlus’ reply to that seems to be “not necessarily.” Even with Lucifer and Metatron removed, the point of P5′s persona arcs still seems to be angel rebelling against deity, even if the particulars of the conflict have no basis in an actual myth.

Finally, as for Soul Hackers’ Satanael, his role is so slight and appearance so brief he doesn’t seem like an aggrandized demiurgical being. A trio with Samyaza and Azazel, this appearance falls in line as a typical Watcher/fallen angel like from 2 Enoch rather than anything more.

What a confusing mess! This one is on Godwin, I have to say. At the time the research for Soul Hackers was happening, Angels would have still been a relatively new book. Atlus just doing their best with wild interpretations and misinformation.

#satanael #persona 5 #Shin Megami Tensei #atlus #megaten #soul hackers #angels #smt #p5

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cruelangelstheses · 5 years ago

Text

a simple misunderstanding

fandom: avatar: the last airbender rating: G characters: sokka/zuko, katara words: 2k additional tags: canon compliant, fluff description: zuko and katara start hanging out, just the two of them. sokka gets suspicious and decides to investigate. a/n: hi!! this was written for the @lgbtqshipszine and i can post it now! i love my silly boys

read it on ao3

—

Sokka is a good older brother—he thinks so, at least. He does his best to look out for Katara and give her advice when she needs it, but he also tries to give her some space and let her make her own decisions. They are only a year apart, after all, and she’s grown up a lot since they first found Aang in the iceberg.

So when Sokka notices that Katara has been spending more time alone with Zuko, he holds himself back from immediately confronting her about it. They could be doing anything, talking about anything. He’s trusted her to be alone with guys before; he’s even teased Aang for his long-standing crush on Katara. Besides, they clearly bonded in some way when they went to search for the man who killed Sokka and Katara’s mother, even when it didn’t turn out the way they’d expected. He should be happy that they’re getting along now.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Zuko, and it’s certainly not that he doesn’t trust Katara. He doesn’t think Zuko would do anything to hurt her—or, well, not on purpose—and he pities the fool who would even try, because hell hath no fury like a Katara scorned. So, really, it shouldn’t be any of his business what Zuko and Katara talk about in whispers on the shores of Ember Island or in the courtyard of Ozai’s beach house. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Unfortunately, try as he might, Sokka just can’t shake the slightly sick feeling he gets in his stomach whenever he sees them talking, even if it’s only a word or two about what they’re having for dinner. He watches their interactions for any indication of romance, but if they do feel that way about each other, they’re doing a damn good job of hiding it. They don’t hold hands—in fact, they barely touch at all, except for when necessary—and they don’t usually sit next to each other during meals. Zuko does sit next to her when they go to see the Ember Island Players, but it seems completely platonic, and Sokka doesn’t miss the way they slowly scooch away from each other during the “romantic” scene between their actor selves. They still talk, though, and sometimes, Katara says something to Zuko that makes him blush furiously. Talk about mixed signals.

So Sokka makes little to no progress on his theory, which is really less of a theory and more of a sneaking suspicion that there’s something fishy going on. Zuko has been acting strange around Sokka for a little while, occasionally stuttering or spacing out in the middle of a conversation, and it might have to do with this whole business with Katara. If Zuko’s had a crush on her for some time, then it would make sense that he’d be nervous about Sokka’s reaction. (Sokka, for his part, feels weird around Zuko sometimes too, but that’s probably just because Zuko hasn’t been with them for very long, and maybe a small part of Sokka is still nervous around the guy who used to try to capture or kill them all on a regular basis.) Eventually, he decides he’ll just have to take the initiative and talk to Katara himself, or else the wondering is going to drive him crazy.

He corners her one evening after dinner, when everyone else has dispersed and Katara is starting to clean up in the kitchen. She looks up from the sink when she hears his footsteps and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing you’re not here to help me clean up,” she says.

Sokka leans up against the nearby wall in an attempt to look casual. “Katara,” he starts out, “you know you can trust me, right? With anything?”

Katara frowns in confusion. “Yeah, of course. You’re my brother.”

Sokka nods and crosses his arms over his chest. “Good! Good.” He clears his throat awkwardly as he searches for the right words. “Because I realize that you can make your own decisions and that you don’t need me protecting you all the time, and so you know that if, say, you were to start dating some angsty firebender who used to try to kill us all the time, you could tell me that, right?”

Katara nearly drops the bowl she’s washing and shuts off the water. “What?”

Sokka can feel his face heating up. Apparently rambling tactlessly is still one of his strong suits. “Just, you know, theoretically,” he adds pathetically.

Katara just stares at him incredulously. “Zuko?” she says with a laugh. “You think I’m dating Zuko?”

Sokka shrugs. “Well, what else was I supposed to think with you two always running off to talk privately? Zuko hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since the Boiling Rock. I thought maybe he was nervous around me because he was afraid of how I’d react if I knew he had a crush on you or something.”

Katara laughs again. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not particularly interested in him, and I’m positive he’s not interested in me.”

Sokka narrows his eyes. “Well, then, what have you two been talking about?”

Katara’s cheeks turn pink. “Us? Uh, nothing. Nothing important. What, two people aren’t allowed to just talk to each other alone?”

Sokka snorts. Like brother, like sister. “Well, that’s not suspicious.”

Katara sighs. “Look, if you really wanna know, you’re better off talking to Zuko.”

“He’s been acting weird around me for weeks now,” Sokka says, trying not to let the hurt seep into his voice. “What makes you think he’d tell me anything?”

“He will,” Katara replies cryptically, and with that, she returns to washing the dishes.

Clearly Sokka isn’t going to be getting a solid answer out of this conversation, so he turns around and heads down the hall to find Zuko.

It doesn’t take long to locate him, out in the courtyard practicing firebending with Aang. Zuko’s been training him in a frenzy; it feels like that’s all they do sometimes. They just ate, and they’re already back at it again, likely at Zuko’s direction. The least they could do is take a few breaks.

Sokka waltzes down the couple of steps outside and into the courtyard. As they’re both practicing the same forms, Aang moving his body in sync with Zuko’s, neither of them notice him approaching. Sokka waits until they seem like they’re at a good stopping point, assuming a final fighting stance and then relaxing their postures, to call out, “Hey, Zuko? I need to talk to you.”

Zuko nearly jumps at the sound of his voice and whirls around. “Okay,” he says, attempting to act calm, but very obviously failing. The sweat rolling down his temples doesn’t help matters, either. “What is it?”

Sokka awkwardly glances over at Aang. “Uh, can we talk in private, actually?”

Zuko narrows his eyes, but nods silently and waves a hand in Aang’s direction, dismissing him. Once he’s out of earshot, Sokka sits down on one of the steps. Zuko, however, remains standing.

Sokka decides to just get straight to the point. “So. You and Katara.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “What about me and Katara?”

“You’ve been talking a lot recently,” Sokka says. “Alone.”

Zuko’s face heats up, though it was already a little flushed from training. “So?”

“I asked Katara about it, but I didn’t get much out of her. I thought maybe you two were dating or something, but she said that wasn’t it. She wouldn’t tell me anything else, though.” Sokka shrugs. “She told me to ask you instead.”

Zuko folds his arms over his chest. “What gives you the right to know about two people’s private business?” He really sounds like a prince there, and it looks like he knows it.

“Well, number one, something’s telling me this ‘business’ was hidden pretty specifically from me, and I’d like to know why,” Sokka replies. “And number two, I’d appreciate some sort of heads-up if my sister ends up dating the crown prince of the Fire Nation, who spent the better part of a year actively trying to capture us.” That last part comes out sounding more hostile than he means for it to.

Zuko scowls and throws his hands out. “What are you saying? That after all this time, after everything, you still don’t trust me?”

Sokka holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “No, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Save it.” Zuko scoffs, but there isn’t any venom in it, just hurt. “And here I was starting to think we—”

He bites his lip and stops talking, just stands and stares with his hands balled up into fists at his sides and his eyes glinting with something Sokka can’t quite decipher.

“What?” Sokka asks. “Starting to think we what?”

Zuko shakes his head, looks away. His body relaxes, and he opens his hands back up, using one of them to rub at his scarred eye. Finally, he walks over to the steps and sits down next to Sokka, resting his arms on his knees as he thinks about his response. After a long moment of silence, he speaks.

“When we were together at the Boiling Rock, I...realized something. I decided to talk to Katara about it later, and then she started giving me some advice.”

Sokka narrows his eyes in confusion. “Why her specifically?”

Zuko sighs. “Because she knows you best.”

Sokka shakes his head. He really, truly has no idea what’s going on here. “What does this have to do with me?”

Zuko is quiet for a long time. Finally, he says with a small laugh, “You got it all mixed up, Sokka. I’m not interested in your sister. I’m interested in you.”

Sokka almost doesn’t believe that he’s hearing correctly. His heart is full of so many somethings, things like relief and shock and hope and desire and an overwhelming feeling of duh.

“Me?” he sputters, because he realizes that he hasn’t said anything yet, and Zuko is looking at him like he expects Sokka to slap him. “I—me?”

Zuko smiles wryly. “I know; I was surprised, too.”

For a moment, they just look at each other. Then they both start laughing, so awkwardly and so stupidly. They laugh so hard that Sokka’s stomach starts to hurt. They laugh so hard that they have to hold onto each other to catch their breath, and that’s when Sokka leans in.

It’s short and soft, an apology, a beginning. He tastes like fire and what they had for dinner, but Sokka doesn’t mind. When they kiss, it feels like something clicks inside of him.

Zuko pulls away first, guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was just afraid—I didn’t know how you’d—”

“No, no, I get it,” Sokka assures him. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t trust you, because I do, Zuko. I do.”

Zuko’s lips curl up into the faintest smile. “I wanted to ask Katara for her blessing. And then I just ended up coming to her for advice on how to...well. Court you, I guess.”

Sokka snorts. “Just be yourself. That’s enough for me. Just don’t go making me jealous.”

Zuko giggles—he actually straight-up giggles. Sokka thinks he could listen to it forever. “Jealous? Of who, Katara?”

“Well, yeah. I assumed you two had a thing.”

Zuko shrugs, his cheeks bright red. “I never said it was a good plan. But it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

Sokka smiles to himself and laces his fingers with Zuko’s. His heart feels like it might take off and fly away at any moment. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I suppose it did.”

(Katara finds them kissing again a few minutes later, and the only thing she says is “Finally.”)

#atla #zukka #zuko #sokka #avatar: the last airbender #zuko x sokka #sokka x zuko #my fics #ITS HERE

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melodiouswhite · 6 years ago

Text

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 19

19. The end of the year pt. 02

Lanyon hadn't expected Jekyll to be that happy, when he and Utterson arrived in the evening. But the blond was positively ecstatic to see them.

“Whoa there”, the white-haired doctor laughed, “You're acting as if you haven't seen us in years!”

Jekyll laughed back. “Lanyon, you're forgetting how long it's been since we last celebrated New Year together!”

Lanyon couldn't argue with that. It had been eleven years, after all.

And whose fault is that?, a petty voice in his head piped up.

He shook these thoughts away.

It was all in the past. He was beyond the pain and at peace now.

Jekyll's voice tore him out of his thoughts. “Hastie? Are you alright?”, he asked in concern.

The smaller man blinked in confusion. “Of course I am. Why are you asking?”

“You looked so glum.”

Lanyon hesitated.

“I'm just glad that everything is settled now”, he finally admitted.

Jekyll understood the message and nodded gently. Then he grabbed them both by the hand and pulled them along.

“Come upstairs with me! I don't want to spend the last hours of the year standing here!”, he cried cheerfully.

Lanyon caught his colleague flash a serene smile at Utterson and a wistful smile stretched his face.

He used to smile at me that way …

He shook those thoughts off too.

Both of them had someone new and there was no point in dwelling in old memories.

It was good this way.

Jekyll was happy with Utterson – even though they weren't truly together just yet. But they loved each other, even if Utterson refused to say it, for Hyde's sake.

He was happy with the Lady – even though they could never be together and he'd never be more than her doctor. But she loved him. That was all he needed to know. No words needed.

Perhaps even Edward Hyde will learn to love. If he has a heart, Gabriel will win it, I'm sure.

Dinner passed away too quickly. It had been just like old times. And just like back then, Jekyll was the best host.

But it had been ages, since their dinner had been so free of tension.

Their laughter was free and genuine. They talked about things that they never could have brought up around others.

“ … and struck him with her cane, in front of everyone. Knocked out several of his upper front teeth, if I recall correctly. Then she acted like the poster child of innocence!”, Lanyon ended his tale of how Lady Summers had taken offence at someone else's comment about his hair.

The other two broke into laughter.

“That does indeed sound like something she would do”, Utterson chuckled.

Lady Summers was a paragon of composure, until someone insulted those she cared about. Hell hath no fury like her then.

“Your turn, Gabriel!”, Jekyll snickered and looked at him excitedly.

Utterson wasn't good at entertaining at all. Nothing noteworthy ever happened in his life. So he kept it short and told him about the pun he had made up, when he had decided to first look for Hyde.

Both doctors snorted.

“Oh my god!”, Jekyll giggled, “I see your puns haven't got any better, Gabriel.”

Utterson huffed: “Oh, shut up! My puns are just fine! Did Hyde hear that?”

Jekyll's grin widened, as he confirmed: “Yes. And he thinks this pun is so bad, that it's actually funny again.”

Lanyon couldn't hold his snickers back anymore.

The lawyer sulked. “As if Hyde's humour is any better!”, he grumbled.

Jekyll smiled. “Maybe not for you, but Lady Summers likes his sense of humour. Hyde has a pretty sharp wit, even when he's not laughing at things that involve him hurting people.”

“I know”, Utterson muttered, “They have that in common. I don't know how to deal with his dark humour or his sharp tongue sometimes.”

A remark of Lady Summers came to his mind: “What doesn't kill you, gives you quirks and a disturbing sense of humour.”

How well that statement fit both her and Hyde!

Jekyll chuckled and took his hand. “Oh, you'll get used to it, believe me. It took me too a while, till I wasn't shocked anymore.”

“And how long will it take me to get used to it?”, Utterson demanded to know. “It won't be as easy for me as it was for you. I don't have your gallows humour.”

“It'll be fine, Gabriel”, Jekyll assured him. “Right, Lanyon?”

The white-haired doctor laughed. “Oh yes. Once you get over the shock, Hyde's humour can actually be funny at time.”

Utterson shook his head: “Put the emphasis on 'at times'. I find his self-mockery disturbing rather than amusing.”

The other two looked at each other uncomfortably. The lawyer caught a flash of guilt in the blond's eyes.

“I guess it's at least partly my fault”, he admitted awkwardly.

Lanyon frowned. “Let's not talk about that so shortly before New Year. What time is it?”

Utterson checked his pocket watch – the one Jekyll had given him for Christmas. “It's quarter to midnight”, he informed them.

Suddenly Jekyll looked quite excited. “Only fifteen minutes! Let's go onto my balcony! The night is clear and I want to see some stars before the firework starts.”

The black-haired man gulped.

The balcony Jekyll meant was on the roof. It was a trend from Paris apparently and another pet fancy of his. The view onto the city was fantastic from there.

But there was a major problem: Utterson was frightened of heights. Just thinking about how far down it went from Jekyll's roof made his stomach feel queasy.

“Gabriel?”

He found his friends looking at him with worry.

“You don't have to come along, if the thought alone makes you feel uncomfortable”, Jekyll offered him gently. “We can stay here until midnight and I go to the roof alone. I promised Hyde to let him out anyway. It's no problem at all.”

He hid his disappointment well this time, the lawyer had to grant him that.

Still, that didn't stop him from feeling miserable. He wanted to watch the fireworks with him, he really did. Surely it was a beautiful sight and-

“Gabriel, don't”, Jekyll said earnestly and took his hand again. “I'll rather stay here or watch them alone, than have you panic, because of the hight. It's just not worth it. How can I enjoy New Year, if you suffer from crippling acrophobia?”

“Neither can I”, Lanyon spoke up. “Jekyll has to go for Hyde's sake, but if that wasn't so, then I can safely say that we're not going to watch them without you. The fireworks will last for at least an hour anyway.”

Utterson bit his lip. “You're making me so emotional lately”, he muttered.

Lanyon chuckled: “It's fine. Aren't we your best friends?”

Jekyll beamed at both of them and opened his arms. “Come here, you two.”

A group hug ensued.

Good thing we're alone here, the lawyer couldn't help but think.

“Thank you two”, Utterson murmured.

“Hey, I told you, it's nothing”, Jekyll replied and pat his shoulder.

Then the blond's glance fell onto the grandfather clock.

“It's almost midnight!”, he cried and uncorked a bottle of champagne.

“It's still a few minutes”, Lanyon reminded him, but the blond laughed merrily.

“Well, that doesn't mean I can't pour you your glasses yet, does it?”

They sat back down at the table.

“So”, Utterson spoke up casually, “Any resolutions for the new year?”

The doctors thought for a bit.

“To get my surgery running again”, said Lanyon.

“To sort things out with Hyde”, said Jekyll.

“And yours?”, they asked in unison.

Utterson considered. “Hmm … I have several.”

The blond doctor frowned: “Not fair! We told you ours, tell us yours!”

“I want to find the answers to my questions”, he finally replied vaguely.

They looked disappointed, but gave up. Both of them knew that he wouldn't get any more specific than that.

Then the clock interrupted their conversation, as the bell began to toll.

The three men grinned.

“Well, now it's 1886”, Lanyon stated.

“Here's a health to you, my friends”, Jekyll announced and raised his glass.

“To the new year”, Utterson replied, following him suit.

“To the good things it will bring us”, Lanyon finished.

They clinked their glasses.

“Cheers.”

“I didn't think you would actually stick to your promise”, Hyde remarked, when he opened his eyes to find himself in control. He curled up on the bench and looked upwards.

In his head, Jekyll replied: “Well, by now I know better than to make empty promises to you.”

Everything Hyde could have retorted was forgot, when a particularly spectacular firework illuminated the night sky.

With wide eyes, he regarded the colours.

“So beautiful!”, he marvelled.

“It really is”, Jekyll agreed.

Then a cold gust of wind blew at him. Hyde shuddered and nestled further into the way too big clothes of his creator.

“C-couldn't you have put a coat on?”, he hissed and pulled the shirt closer to his body.

Jekyll apologised awkwardly: “Sorry, I forgot.”

“Well, because you forgot, I'm freezing!”

“You could always go inside, you know.”

“And miss this spectacle? No way in hell!”

“Well, suit yourself. Don't say I didn't give you that option”, Jekyll gave up.

The brunette huffed and would have stuck his tongue at the older, if he had been there in his shadowy form.

“Mr. Hyde.”

He jumped at the sudden address and whirled around.

Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson were standing in the door.

“Good morning”, he greeted them nonchalantly, hiding how much they had startled him.

Then he smirked: “I'm surprised you're here, Mr. Utterson. Jekyll told me you're scared of heights.”

“That's why Lanyon is with me”, Utterson explained. “So it should be bearable as long as I stay here in the back.”

The young man giggled: “Your emotional support doctor, huh? Jekyll will be so jealous.”

Lanyon scoffed, while Utterson looked away in obvious embarrassment.

Then the lawyer composed himself and sat next to Hyde on the bench.

“I just wanted to wish you a happy new year”, he told him.

“Likewise.”

Inside his head, Jekyll huffed: “He came up here for you, but not for me!”

Hyde suppressed a grin. Jealous?, he teased his creator.

“Yes! Yes, I am!”

There was nothing like some petty satisfaction on New Year.

Of course Utterson knew nothing of that.

“Aren't you cold?”, he asked the smaller man.

The brunette shrugged. “Meh, it's fine.”

Then he gaped at the black-haired man, who proceeded to calmly take his jacket off and draped it around him.

“Better?”

Hyde was too surprised to answer. Then he pulled the jacket closer to his body and looked away.

The dark blue jacket still carried its owner's body warmth and gave off a faint scent of cheap cologne and withering leaves in autumn.

It smells like him, he thought and blushed lightly.

“Not fond of him at all, huh?”, Jekyll snorted in his head.

Jekyll, you're on very thin ice here!

Unfortunately Jekyll wasn't the only one who had noticed.

Lanyon smirked and teased: “What is this I see? Is Edward Hyde blushing?”

“No”, Hyde muttered, “That's just the cold wind.”

“Well, good to see some colour on your face”, the white-haired doctor noted.

“Your hair could use some colour too”, Hyde retorted, “Ever thought about dyeing it? It would make you look significantly younger.”

“Hyde!”

But Lanyon didn't seem to take offense. “If I can find a dye that matches my actual hair colour, sure. In addition, it's Jekyll's fault that my hair greyed prematurely-”

Utterson cut them off: “Let's not argue.”

There was a barely audible tremor in his voice. That got the brunette's attention.

Right now the only light came from the fireworks in the sky. But it was enough for the young man to notice how pale the lawyer was. And his hands were quivering violently.

“You're not shivering from the cold, are you?”, he questioned.

Utterson shook his head. “No.”

Lanyon turned to them and sat onto the remaining free spot next to Utterson's other side.

“Gabriel, if it's too much-”

“No, I'm fine.”

Hyde frowned. “Stop lying. You're not fine.”

“But-”

“No. Go back inside.”

Utterson sighed. “Fine. I'll be waiting.”

He looked sad, when he returned into the house. That agitated the smaller man. Something about the lawyer being sad or upset just was … bothersome.

When it was just him and Lanyon, the latter cleared his throat: “Mr. Hyde, do you mind, if we talk for a bit?”

The younger looked at him suspiciously. “You won't care if I say no, will you?”

“No”, Lanyon said flatly.

“Whelp. Guess I have no other choice. What do you want?”

“We need to talk about Mr. Utterson.”

A sense of foreboding came over the younger. “What is it?”

“As you know, he is my best friend.”

Hyde raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh? I was under the impression, that it's Jekyll. Considering you two used to be-”

“Don't” Lanyon's said icily. “I'm not remotely as calm and patient as Gabriel is. So I must warn you to choose your next words carefully.”

Hyde dug through their memory. His eyes widened at the glimpses he caught.

Bloody hell, he's not bluffing!

He gulped nervously. “Y-you're not going to point a gun at me, are you?”

Lanyon blinked. “How do you know that I have one on me?”

“You always do.”

The older man seemed satisfied. “So you really do share Jekyll's knowledge. Is he listening?”

“I'm listening”, Jekyll answered in his head.

“He is”, Hyde informed the other.

“Then I should be able to get my point across. And now to the matter at hand. Gabriel has no experience in love or – especially – in carnal acts.”

Ohhh, a virgin!

“Hyde, no!”

Hyde, yes!

Lanyon continued darkly: “So I want you to know one thing, Edward Hyde-”

“Let me guess”, the smaller man interrupted him, “If I hurt him, you'll make me pay?”

“Exactly. You understand me then.”

“Perfectly.”

Lanyon smiled amiably. “Very well. I knew you have a clever head on your shoulders, Mr. Hyde.”

He stood up. “I'm going back inside. You should do the same, before you catch a cold. And-” He grinned, “-Give Utterson his jacket back. He's going to need it, when he goes home.”

Hyde gave the older man a death glare. “Get lost!”, he growled darkly.

Lanyon shrugged (completely unimpressed) and went inside.

“That old bastard”, Hyde grumbled and shuddered from the cold.

“He's right though”, Jekyll piped up, “You should go back, Hyde You're shaking like a leaf.”

“No way! These two twits distracted me from-”

“DO IT!!!”, Jekyll yelled suddenly, making his alter ego yelp in shock.

“Alright, alright, you killjoy! Damn, calm the hell down! No need to yell into my ears!”

“I'm not a killjoy! I just don't want to start the year with a cold!”

The brunette huffed and pulled Utterson's jacket closed around himself. It didn't keep him as warm anymore.

With one last longing glance up to the night sky, he closed his eyes and allowed Jekyll to take back the reins.

Directly after his friends left, Jekyll decided to retire. It was almost three in the morning and he wasn't as enduring as he had been just fifteen years ago.

As soon as he had closed his bedroom door after himself, his shadow morphed into his alter ego.

“Edward”, he whispered gently.

“Henry”, Hyde returned less gently.

“Happy new year. Did you enjoy watching the spectacle in your shadow form, while I was talking to the other two?”

Hyde smiled mildly. “Yes. You deserve a reward for allowing me that.”

Jekyll blinked. “I do?”

“Come here, you old fool.”

He chuckled, but bent down to the shadow's level.

What he didn't expect was for Hyde to cup his face and kiss him on the lips.

The blond felt his cheeks grow scarlet and shuddered at the chilly contact. It was as if he was being kissed by an ice block. He quickly recovered his spirit though and kissed back.

Sadly, after kissing each other passionately for about a minute, a little something called air got jealous and they broke apart.

“Edward!”, he gasped.

The look in Hyde's glowing green eyes was intense and filled with diabolic passion.

Then he smirked mischievously.

“Happy new year, you foolish old man!”, he snickered and vanished.

Jekyll blinked, still dazed from their steamy kiss and maybe – just maybe – a little aroused.

Damn, why did Hyde have to be such a skilled and talented kisser?

The doctor threw his head back and laughed.

That little devil.

#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #utterson #Gabriel John Utterson #Mr Utterson #dr lanyon #Hastie Lanyon #lanyon is a good friend #jekyllxhyde #jekyde #jekyllxutterson #jekyllxlanyon #last one implied

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broomballkraken · 6 years ago

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Title: The Scholar and The Huntress, Chapter 10: Respite

Fandom: Octopath Traveler

Pairing: Cyrus/H’aanit

Word count: 6092

Warnings: None

Summary: H'aanit finally reunites with her master, and can finally enjoy some respite from her journey. Of course, with her group of companions, this involves a lot of alcohol, and results in Cyrus revealing a whole new side of himself that she had not seen before.

"Maken haste, Cyrus. We'ren almost there."

"H'aanit, please...I'm...so tired..."

H'aanit stopped running and turned to stare at her lover, who was doubled over and trying to catch his breath. They had only been running for about a mile, and that wasn't far at all. She really needed to help Cyrus get into better physical shape.

"Ah...hah...my dear, you don't have to rush. I'm sure your master will be waiting in Stoneguard for you to arrive." Cyrus said, smiling as he took H'aanit's hand. "And I believe we've lost the others-Oh, Linde caught up with us." H'aanit chuckled as her partner came trotting up behind them. She meowed and rubbed up against Cyrus' legs, causing him to smile brightly as he ran his hand through her fur.

"I guesseth thee ist right. I can see the stairs leading to town from here. We shoulde be there soon." H'aanit said.

Suddenly, screams pierced the air and both H'aanit and Cyrus jerked their heads in the direction of the sound, which seemed to be coming from a bit up the road. They glanced at each other before breaking into a run, with Linde close behind. They quickly came upon two people being set upon by a huge tiger. Cursing, H'aanit pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow, while Cyrus whipped out a spellbook.

However, before either of them could act, the tiger was struck from behind with a precisely shot arrow, and it immediately collapsed, dead. H'aanit and Cyrus blinked at each other, confused, until Hagen suddenly appeared and ran up to them, barking excitedly.

"Hagen! If thou art here, then..." H'aanit said as she pet his head, and she smiled as she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"What ho, H'aanit!"

Relief welled up inside of H'aanit as she watched Z'aanta stride up to her, grinning from ear to ear. It really did work, defeating Redeye. Her master was back to normal, thank the gods. Z'aanit stopped in front of her and gave her a once-over, before barking out a hearty laugh.

"Don't tellen me thou'st grown again!" he said, continuing to laugh as H'aanit rolled her eyes.

"Not in height, but if thou speakest in experience, then yes."

Cyrus watched silently as H'aanit and her master bantered back and forth, and he couldn't help but smile fondly at his lover. She was giving the older man a good lecturing for worrying her, but the smile on her face betrayed her true feelings. Cyrus knew that she was happy that Z'aanta was back to normal, and he was happy that she was happy.

"H'aanit, thanke thee. Thou'st done me proud."

H'aanit let out a yelp in protest as Z'aanta hoisted her into his arms, and Cyrus couldn't help but laugh as she struggled to free herself, her face flushing with embarrassment. Z'aanta's laughter joined his, and after he made sure the couple that had been attacked was alright, he finally turned his gaze upon Cyrus.

"Werein art thine manners, girl? Aren you going to introduceth me to thine friend?" Z'aanta said, glancing at H'aanit with an eyebrow raised. H'aanit blinked; she had almost forgotten that Cyrus was here too. Her face flushed a deeper shade of red, and she cleared her throat as she walked over so that she was standing at Cyrus' side.

"Er, master, this ist Cyrus Albright. He ist a scholar and a professor at the Royal Academy in Atlasdam." H'aanit said, "Cyrus, this ist my master, Z'aanta."

"A pleasure to finally meet you, sir." Cyrus said, smiling as he held out his hand, "H'aanit has told me so much about you! I can most definitely see where she learned her mastery of the bow." Z'aanta gave Cyrus a once-over and then barked out a laugh as he took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Goodeth to meeten thee too, Cyrus. And no needeth to callen me sir. It makeths me feelen old."

"I will keep that in mind, sir-Ahem, Z'aanta."

"So how didst you endeth up traveling together-"

"Hey guys! We finally caught up to you!"

Z'aanta was interrupted when Tressa came running up to H'aanit and Cyrus, with the rest of the group not far behind. Z'aanta turned to H'aanit, who just shrugged.

"I foundeth many new companions on my journey. 'Tis a long tale, mayhaps we should head to the tavern and I shall tell you all about it." she said, and her eyes narrowed when Z'aanta's eyes lit up at the word 'tavern.'

"That soundeth like a great idea, my dear prentice. Letten us go!" he said, and after a brief introduction to the rest of the group, they all headed into Stoneguard and made a beeline for the tavern. H'aanit hoped that she wouldn't regret suggesting the tavern as a meeting place.

"Oh wow! You killed a dragon with your bare hands?!??!"

"He ist lying, Tressa."

"My prentice, you woundeth me." Z'aanta said, pouting as H'aanit rolled her eyes and the rest of the table laughed. The tavern was loud and lively this night, mostly due to their full table listening to Z'aanta's very exaggerated hunting stories. H'aanit felt more relaxed than she had in a very long time. Now that her master was back to normal, it was like a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Cyrus, doest thou needeth a refill?" H'aanit asked when Z'aanta's had finished telling his latest story and the table split off into mini conversations.

"Ah, yes, I'd like another. Thank you." Cyrus said, proceeding to down the last mouthful of ale. H'aanit nodded and took the empty mug, her hand brushing his on the way, and a smile of adoration crossed his face.

"Aye, I shall be back shortly." she said, and she headed up to speak to the barkeep. Cyrus watched her go for a moment, and when he turned back to the table, he found that Z'aanta was staring at him over the rim of his mug as he took a drink. Cyrus tilted his head at him, confused, and watched as Z'aanta set his mug down and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So," he began, a sly smile crossing his face as he leaned back in his chair, "How longeth hath thee and my prentice been in love with each other?"

Cyrus stared at Z'aanta for a moment, before his face flushed a bright red and he cleared his throat to try and remove the lump that had formed there. Gods, how was he able to correctly come up with that conclusion without being told directly?

"W-Well, I cannot speak for H'aanit, but, ah, I've loved her for a good while now, even before I knew what exactly it was I was feeling for her." Cyrus said, rubbing his neck as he averted his gaze. Z'aanta laughed and slapped a friendly hand on Cyrus' arm.

"Really now? Whatten ist it that you seeth in her?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow as he took a swig of his drink. Cyrus took note that Primrose and Ophilia were not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation, and he tried to ignore them as he looked Z'aanta in the eye.

"Well, where do I even start?" Cyrus began, earning a chuckle from Z'aanta. "H'aanit is an incredible woman. She is strong in many ways, be it physically or in character. She is loyal, honest, caring, selfless. She can be stubborn at times, but for all the right reasons, so I cannot honestly call that a fault. And she is the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen-"

"I thinke I getten the picture." Z'aanit interrupted, and Cyrus laughed sheepishly as he fiddled with his sleeves.

"Ah, sorry, I got a little carried away."

"Here, Cyrus." he looked up to see that H'aanit had returned, and she set a full mug of ale in front of him, and another in front of Z'aanta. "I am going to maketh sure that Linde and Hagen haveth enough water. I willst be back." The two men offered their thanks as H'aanit left again, and they both took long swigs before Z'aanta spoke again.

"'Tis funny," he started, earning a quizzical look from Cyrus. "You'ren not the kind of person that I woulde hath guessed that my prentice woulde bringeth home to me."

"Oh?" Cyrus asked, "Why is that?"

"She hath always heldeth physical strength in high regard. I predicted that she'd endeth up with someone a bit more muscular than thee."

"Well, she must see something good in me." Cyrus said as he shrugged, "I was actually afraid that she would never feel the same way about me as I did her. It was quite surprising."

"My prentice ist no fool, Cyrus." Z'aanta said, his tone turning oddly serious. "H'aanit hast never been interested in finding a partner before you. So thee needeth not worry about being goode enough, for she woulde only chooseth the best person for her."

"O-Oh," Cyrus stammered, embarrassed, "Well, I...thank you." He had been a bit nervous to finally meet H'aanit's father figure, but Z'aanta had turned out to be surprisingly accepting of the fact that he was dating his adoptive daughter.

Z'aanta chuckled as he tugged at his beard. "Thou doest not needeth to thanke me. H'aanit ist a smart woman, and can taken care of herself. If thou steppeth out of line, she wilst be sure to deal swift justice. And if she doth not, I wilst." Cyrus gulped as Z'aanta's voice took on a slightly threatening tone. Ah, this was more of what he expected from him. But, he also noticed the humor in the older man's eyes, and Cyrus just smiled and nodded.

"I am well aware, my good man. I have no intention of ever hurting her in any way. I care far too much for her." Cyrus said, and Z'aanta laughed.

"Good, good. 'Tis all I can asketh of thee." Z'aanta clinked his mug against Cyrus'. "Letten us getteth another rounde, eh?"

"Indeed." Cyrus said, noting that his mug was empty. He then jumped a bit in surprise when a full mug was slammed down in front of him.

"Y'all in for a drinking contest?" Alfyn said a bit louder than necessary as he grinned, looking back and forth between Z'aanta and Cyrus.

"Aye, sounds like a grande time!" Z'aanta said, and Cyrus nodded in agreement as they both stood and followed Alfyn to a seperate table with the other men. This was turning out to be a rather interesting night.

"Ugh, I'm done."

"Shucks, Therion, you're always the first out!"

H'aanit chuckled as Therion pouted at Alfyn, his flushed face and half-lidded eyes betraying his drunken status. He shrugged and moved to sit in between Tressa and Primrose at their table.

"Alfyn better not pass out this time. I'm not carrying him back to the inn again." Therion grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as Ophilia giggled.

"I'd be more worried about Cyrus tonight." Primrose said, earning a confused look from H'aanit. "It seems that your master has quite the influence on him."

H'aanit turned her attention to the contest table, her eyes narrowed as she watched Z'aanta sling his arm over Cyrus' shoulders as he laughed. She had never seen Cyrus truly drunk before, as he was very good at pacing himself. But, her master could be a notoriously bad influence sometimes, especially in a tavern setting like this one.

"Cyrus, thou muste keepeth up! Downeth this mug and start on another!" Z'aanta said, nudging Cyrus' mug with his own.

"Ah, I don't usually drink this quickly..." Cyrus said, a dusting of pink present on his cheeks, "Perhaps I should slow down."

"Nay! Thou cannot win a contest of drinking without, well, drinking! Keepeth up with me, at least." Z'aanta said, glancing over at Olberic and Alfyn, who were downing their drinks at a concerning rate. "Those two are liketh bottomless pits. Wheren doest it all goeth?"

"I've asked myself that many times before." Cyrus said, laughing as he finished off his mug. "It is settled then, I will do my best to keep up with you."

"Aye! That's a good lad!" Z'aanta said, pushing a full mug at Cyrus.

"Ah, yes! Well, 'bottoms up', as they say!"

H'aanit watched as the two men clinked their mugs together and drained the contents quickly. She wondered if she should step in and stop them. This...could end in disaster.

"Oh, don't worry about them, H'aanit." Primrose said, waving her hand nonchalantly. "They will be fine. If they truly start to get out of hand, we can intervene." H'aanit nodded slowly and let herself relax.

"Z'aanta is really cool, H'aanit!" Tressa said, "I bet it's been a blast being his apprentice!"

"Aye, he ist a great teacher, if a bit irresponsable at times."

"I'm surprised at how well he and Cyrus are getting along." Primrose chimed in. "Fathers usually tend to be a bit more wary about the men that their daughters bring home."

"I fear that they getteth along too well. My master tends to be a bad influence when alcohol ist involved, and Cyrus can be a bit clueless at times." H'aanit said, glancing over at the contest table, where the occupants all burst out laughing, with Olberic and Z'aanta's voices being the loudest.

"That's an understatement. Cyrus is laughably clueless. But you're not much better, H'aanit." Primrose said, laughing as she took a drink, "Watching you both try and court each other was rather painful at times." The rest of the women giggled as H'aanit pursed her lips, and even Therion let out a chuckle.

“Thou doest not needeth reminden me everyday…” H’aanit grumbled. Her attention was suddenly pulled to the contest table, when Cyrus shot up out of his chair, the movement almost knocking it to the ground.

“My focus is unparalleled!” he exclaimed, and he proceeded to lift a full mug of ale to his lips and down the contents with a few deep swigs. The rest of the men at the table cheered and followed suit, wasting no time in grabbing full mugs and repeating the process.

“Oh dear, they are getting quite rowdy, aren’t they?” Ophilia said, trying to hide her amused smile behind her mug. H’aanit’s eyes widened as she watched Cyrus’ antics. Well, this was certainly a new side of him that she had not seen before.

“Good luck dealing with that later.” Therion said, winking at H’aanit. She narrowed her eyes at him, and Primrose chuckled with amusement.

“Oh, he’ll probably be fine...Maybe.” she said, ignoring the heated look that H’aanit shot her. “Therion, do be a dear and get us another round, will you?” Therion nodded in response and cleared the empty mugs from the table, before heading up to the bar. H’aanit watched him go, until her attention was pulled away when Cyrus’ voice hit her ears.

“Oh my! My face is so warm! How fascinating!” H’aanit turned to see Cyrus holding his cheeks with both hands, his lips turned up in a goofy smile as he pushed on his face. The expressions he was making caused H’aanit to laugh until she snorted, and the other women at her table laughed as well.

“Ha! It seemeth that thee ist amusing to our table of ladies.” Z’aanta said, not seeming to notice the glare that H’aanit was shooting him.

“Who?” Cyrus asked, blinking in confusion as he tilted his head.

“Shucks, Cyrus, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten half of our friends?” Alfyn asked, taking a drink of ale as he leaned back in his chair, splashing some of the liquid on his shirt.

“I thought I was just here with you-Oh!” Cyrus started, as he turned to look at the table where H’aanit and the others sat. When his eyes locked with hers, the rest of what he was going to say was swallowed up in a gasp. He stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, before he leaned over and whispered something to Z’aanta. H’aanit watched as a sly grin crossed her master’s face, and he whispered something back.

“Ah, yes!” Cyrus said as he pulled back, and he quickly jumped to his feet. H’aanit watched as he moved in her direction, seemingly unable to walk in a straight line as he stumbled awkwardly in his attempt to get to her.

“My dear,” he said, pausing to let out a giggle and steady himself, “I could not help but notice how absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful you are.” H’aanit blinked at him, confused, and she felt her cheeks heat up as he took her hand in his. “I must ask, are you perchance, romantically available?”

H’aanit just stared at him, not knowing how to respond to this. He must have drank way beyond his limit of alcohol tolerance in order to forget that they were together. H’aanit was going to have some stern words with Z’aanta about getting her lover so gods damn drunk. She opened her mouth to finally respond, but Primrose beat her to it.

“Ah, I am sorry, but she is, in fact, spoken for.” the dancer said. Cyrus gasped and recoiled backwards dramatically, an absolutely devastated look crossing his face.

“O-Oh, I see…” he stammered out, stumbling off to the side. Unfortunately, Therion had picked that moment to return with more drinks, carrying four mugs, two in each hand. Cyrus crashed right into the theif, whose quick reflexes saved him from spilling the drinks as he lifted up his arms. Cyrus wrapped his own around Therion as he buried his face into his shoulder.

“Cyrus, what the hell?” Therion asked, an annoyed look crossing his face. Primrose and Tressa moved quickly to take the mugs from him before they could spill, but left him to try and pry Cyrus off of him on his own.

“Oh, Therion! My life is ruined!” Cyrus exclaimed, his voice muffled a bit against Therion’s shoulder. H’aanit just stared at him in disbelief.

“What are you talking about? Get off me!” Therion growled as he tried to shove Cyrus away. He only succeeded in causing Cyrus to tighten his grip.

“It is truly the worst thing that could ever happen to me!” Cyrus continued, sniffing as he rubbed his face on the thief’s shoulder. H’aanit raised an eyebrow. Was he...crying? “The most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen is taken! How will I go on?” He gestured at H’aanit with one arm, and Therion stared at Cyrus as if he was the dumbest person in Orsterra. The rest of the men at the table burst out laughing, with Z’aanta laughing the loudest. Primrose and Tressa also dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Ophilia only barely managed to hold back her own amusement.

“Oh my gods…” Therion mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, she’s taken...by you, you idiot.” He finally succeeded in prying Cyrus’ hands from his arms and pushed him back towards H’aanit, who stood up in time to catch her drunk-ass lover before he could fall over and hurt himself.

“R-Really?” Cyrus said, looking up at H’aanit with a look of absolute joy on his flushed face, and that was enough to make her blush with embarrassment.

“Yes, dear. We hath been together foren awhile now.” H’aanit said, and Cyrus laughed as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Oh how the gods have blessed me so!” Cyrus exclaimed, gazing lovingly into H’aanit’s eyes as his tears of sorrow turned into tears of joy. “Never in my 30 years of life have I seen a more beautiful woman! One of unparalleled strength and courage and-Whoops!” Cyrus’ gushing was interrupted when his grip on H’aanit loosened and he fell to the floor on his back.

“Cyrus! Ist thou alright?” H’aanit asked, frowning with worry as she quickly knelt down next to him.

“Hmm...Is the ceiling supposed to be spinning like that? What an interesting phenomenon!” Cyrus said, laughing as he raised an arm above him and waved it about, as if he was tracing invisible lines above him. H’aanit sighed and shook her head.

“Gods help me…” H’aanit mumbled, staring down at her lover, unamused. She glanced over at the contest table to see how the other men were fairing. She saw that Alfyn’s head was resting on the table; he was passed out cold, and Therion was arguing with Tressa about who was going to carry him to the inn this time. Olberic and Z’aanta had their arms around each other’s shoulders, and they were both laughing hysterically. H’aanit then looked up at the bar, where the barkeep was watching them with an annoyed look on his face. It was probably time to call it a night.

“Take care of Cyrus, H’aanit.” Primrose said, “We will handle the rest of these drunkards.” H’aanit watched as Ophilia went to speak with Olberic and Z’aanta, while Tressa and Therion teamed up to deal with the incapacitated Alfyn.

“Aye. Good luck.” H’aanit said, smiling when Primrose laughed and went to help Ophilia. H’aanit then looked back to the floor, where Cyrus was gazing up at her with half-lidded eyes.

“Come now, letten us go back to the inn.” she said, as she bent down and lifted Cyrus into her arms. He laughed and flailed a bit, causing H’aanit to stumble forward and drop him back on the ground.

“Cyrus!” H’aanit said, her face scrunching up with annoyance.

“Ah, oops, sorry, my dear. I’m just having so much fun!” Cyrus protested, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. H’aanit glared at him and tried three more times to pick him up, only to repeat the same result.

“This ist ridiculous.” H’aanit growled, and Cyrus dissolved into giggles again. She suddenly grabbed him by the waist, hoisted him over her shoulder, and held his legs under his knees in a vice grip. He yelped in surprise when she stood up, and he wrapped his arms around her torso from behind.

“Mmmmm, my dear, you’re so strong...I do love it so.” Cyrus mumbled, and H’aanit felt him rub his face against her back. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face. H’aanit bid farewell to the others and headed outside.

“Thou ist an incredibly disastrous drunk, Cyrus.” H’aanit said, pausing to wake up Linde, who had fallen asleep against the outside wall of the tavern. She meowed and tilted her head at Cyrus, who laughed and reached out to try and pet her, but he kept missing.

“Oh, I do think you’re overreacting, darling.” Cyrus mused. He started lazily tracing his fingers over H’aanit’s abs over her shirt, and she shivered slightly as her face flushed.

“Thou forgotten that we were together.” H’aanit said, and Cyrus just laughed, and H’aanit felt him shake his head against her back.

“Well, it is not surprising to me in the least. I am still flabbergasted that the most beautiful person in Orsterra chose me of all people as a partner! I am so, so lucky.”

“I could sayeth the same about thee.”

“Oh, H’aanit...H’aanit,” Cyrus mumbled, tightening his grip on her. “Please, ask me why I love you so much!”

“Why doest thou loven me so much?”

“I am so glad you asked!” Cyrus said excitedly, and H’aanit couldn’t hold back her laughter, “Because if I had to write it down, I fear that there isn’t enough stationary in the world to hold everything! Although, verbalizing it may take weeks, even months to truly-”

“Well then, thou best starteth now, foren I’m putting thee to bed as soon as we getten to the inn.” H’aanit heard Cyrus gasp and he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Oh dear...well, I better start with the best things then…”

H’aanit just shook her head as she listened to Cyrus ramble on while she walked. He started by gushing about how amazing she smelled all the time, ‘like a forest of pine trees just after a spot of rain.’ He was definitely exaggerating, for she felt that most of the time she smelled like sweat, due to the large amount of physical activity she did during the day.

Next he proceeded to tell her that the exact moment that he realized that he was in love with her was when she delivered the killing blow to the dragon that had been guarding the herb-of-grace in Stillsnow. H’aanit couldn’t help but wonder if Cyrus was actually just gods damn crazy, or was dropped on his head too many times as a child.

Cyrus then went off on a tangent about how adorable Linde was. He began throwing out random facts about snow leopards, like how some snow leopards have home ranges of up to 1,000 square kilometers, and that they have light green or gray eyes, which is unusual for big cats.

After what seemed like an eternity, H’aanit finally reached the inn, and she quickly made her way up the stairs, ignoring the stares from the innkeeper on the way.

“...And did you know that snow leopards have large paws that help them walk on top of the snow. What amazing creatures they are!” Cyrus was saying as H’aanit entered the room that the men were sharing. She just chuckled as she approached one of the beds.

“I agree, dear. Now, ‘tis time for bed.” H’aanit said, and she went to pull Cyrus from her shoulder, but he wrapped his arms tightly around her torso, stopping her.

“Cyrus-”

“But H’aanit, I’m not ready to leave your side. My nights are incredibly lonely without you!” he whined, his face rubbing against her back. H’aanit rolled her eyes and tugged harder on his legs.

“Thou ist being stubborn. We wilst seeth each other in the morn.” H’aanit said, but her words did not seem to sway Cyrus. She struggled a bit longer, trying to loosen his hold on her, when he finally let go. Unfortunately, she had been pulling hard at that exact moment, so she ended up flinging him roughly onto the bed, and she stumbled onto it after him.

“Hehe, got you!” Cyrus said, as he quickly wrapped his arms around H’aanit and pulled her close, so that he could nuzzle his face against her neck. H’aanit’s face flushed as she tried wiggling free of his grasp.

“Cyrus, letten me go-” she protested, but was silenced when Cyrus’ lips covered hers in a sloppy, drunken kiss. Her eyes went wide for a moment, but they slowly slipped shut as she chuckled and returned the kiss. Well, she had certainly fallen in love with a most interesting man, but she would not have it any other way. When they finally pulled away, Cyrus was gazing at H’aanit with a look of complete adoration, and it took her breath away.

“You are so...intoxicating, H’aanit.” Cyrus whispered, lethargically brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.

“That mayhaps be the ale talking.”

“Oh no. If I am drunk on anything, my darling, it is your love.” H’aanit flushed a bright red as his fingers gently caressed her cheeks. “I fear that it takes all of the willpower that I have not to spend all of my time and energy kissing those sweet lips of yours, and telling you how much you really mean to me.”

“Cyrus…” H’aanit breathed, her eyes widening as she reached up to cup his face. She kissed him again, soft and tender, and she smiled against his lips when he sighed contently.

“I love you, H’aanit. So, so much more than words can say...” Cyrus said when they parted, his eyes gazing lovingly into her own. Slowly, his eyelids finally slipped shut, and soon he was snoring softly as he drifted off to sleep.

“I loveth you too, Cyrus.” H’aanit said, watching as a bright smile crossed his sleeping face. She chuckled and shook her head, and was finally able to slip out of his grasp. She removed Cyrus’ coat and boots, and tucked him into bed. She placed a last kiss on his forehead, when the door to the room was flown open.

“Gods, finally.” Therion was saying as he and Tressa dragged Alfyn into the room. They tossed the inebriated apothecary onto a bed, and Therion threw himself onto another.

“Hey, H’aanit!” Tressa said, “I’m glad you two made it here without any issues.”

“Aye, none that were not caused by Cyrus, anyway.” H’aanit said as she brushed Cyrus’ hair from his face. Tressa laughed, and Ophilia and Primrose entered the room, struggling to support Olberic.

“Curse these gods damn legs of mine. Why won’t they cooperate?” Olberic was muttering to himself, and Primrose rolled her eyes as she and Ophilia deposited him on the last bed.

“It’s the alcohol, dear Olberic. Get some sleep.” Primrose said, and after a bit of incoherent mumbling, he did just that.

“Gods, it’s like babysitting a bunch of man children.” Primrose said, sighing deeply. Ophilia giggled, and then turned to H’aanit.

“H’aanit, your master went to stay with Natalia. Hagen was with him, so he probably made it there safely.” she said, “He said he would stop by here in the morning.”

“Aye, thanke thee.”

“Well, goodnight Therion. Do make sure the rest of these idiots don’t die in their sleep, would you?” Primrose said as she made for the door.

“Yeah, no promises there,” Therion said, waving his hand as he rolled over, “Goodnight.”

With that, the women returned to their own room, and they all fell asleep rather quickly, exhausted by the night’s activities.

As usual, H’aanit was the first to wake in the morning, and she decided to take a stroll about town with Linde before breakfast. When she returned to the inn, the aftermath of the night before was beginning to surface.

“Ugh...my head…” H’aanit chuckled when she saw Alfyn sitting at a table, his head resting on Primrose’s shoulder, while she rubbed his back gently. Olberic sat opposite of them, his head resting in his hands as he massaged his temples. Ophilia sat next to him, her eyes looking droopy and her face scrunched up. She looked uncomfortable.

“Good morning, H’aanit.” Primrose said when the huntress sat down.

“‘Morning. Ophilia, ist thou alright?” H’aanit asked as she grabbed a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

“Our resident cleric is actually hungover.” Primrose said with a grin, and Ophilia pouted at her. H’aanit blinked in surprise. Ophilia was normally pretty good at watching her alcohol intake. Gods, her master really did have a bad influence on everyone.

“Ah, good morning you two.” H’aanit turned around as Primrose spoke to find Tressa and Therion descending the stairs.

“Morning!” Tressa said happily, a contrast to the slight miserable atmosphere in the room. Therion rolled his eyes and looked at H’aanit.

“You might want to go check up on Cyrus. I don’t think he’s doing too well.” he said, and H’aanit nodded as she stood up.

“Good luck.” she heard Primrose call after her as she ascended the stairs. H’aanit hoped that Cyrus wasn’t in too bad of shape; they were supposed to start heading towards Grandport today, as they didn’t want Tressa to be late for the Merchants’ Fair.

H’aanit slowly entered the room and quietly closed the door behind her. It was dark, so she opened the curtains, letting in the bright sunlight. As soon as she did, a loud groan was heard coming from Cyrus’ bed, and H’aanit turned to see Cyrus roll over and pull the blankets over his head.

“‘Morning, love.” H’aanit said, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. Cyrus groaned again as he slowly rolled over onto his back, his eyes squinted, as if the light was painful.

“Oh gods,” Cyrus said, reaching up to cover his face with his hands. “W-What in Aelfric’s name happened last night? I feel like I took a few dosen blunt force blows to the head.”

“Thou doest not remember?” H’aanit asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Well…” Cyrus said, groaning as he pushed himself into a sitting position, “The last thing I remember is...agreeing to keep up with Z’aanta in our drinking contest...Everything after that is just a blur.” H’aanit just chuckled and Cyrus looked at her, confused.

“This ist what happened afterward…” H’aanit said, and she retold the events of the night. When she was done, Cyrus’ face had turned pink and he looked mortified.

“I...I am never drinking again.” he said, getting out of bed with H’aanit’s help. “How incredibly embarrassing.”

“To be fair, the other men didst not faireth any better.” H’aanit said as they headed downstairs.

“I guess that makes me feel a bit better. Ah, I’m sorry you had to deal with me in so sorry of a condition, my dear.” Cyrus said, and H’aanit just laughed.

“‘Tis alright. Thou was rather cute, actually.” she said, and Cyrus blushed.

“Oh dear, you are far too forgiving of me.”

“T’was a bit annoying to deal with thee at the time, but now I can looketh back on it and laugh.” H’aanit took Cyrus’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Do tryest to be more careful in the future, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” Cyrus said, stealing a quick kiss from her lips as they joined the others. After treating the hungover with plenty of food and water, the group gathered their belongings and were ready to move on by midday.

“Ah, H’aanit! Here you are!”

“‘Tis about time you madeth it here, master.” H’aanit said, looking up from loading her quiver as Z’aanta entered the inn.

“Aye! I couldst not misseth seeing my prentice off!”

“What aren your plans?”

“Well,” Z’aanta pulled at his beard, “I thinke I wilst stayeth with Natalia foren a few more days, and then head back to S’warkii with Hagen. I assumeth that thee still hast things to taken care of?”

“Yes.” H’aanit said with a nod. “Some of my companions still have business to taken care of, and I wilst be by theren sides until they are done. Cyrus actually has business in Duskbarrow.”

“Does he now? That ist not too far from S’warkii. Be sureth to stoppen in and seeth your old master when thou ist done with your quest.”

“I will.”

“Good day, Z’aanta!” Cyrus said as he approached, smiling brightly. H’aanit was relieved to see that he looked to be in much better shape than he had been in when he awoke in the morning.

“Ho, Cyrus. I heardeth that thee hast buisness in Duskbarrow. Thou musteth stoppen by S’warkii whilst in the Woodlands. I would liken to getten to know thee better.”

“Oh, of course!” Cyrus said excitedly, “I will be sure to do just that!”

When everyone was gathered at the inn and ready to depart, H’aanit bid farewell to Z’aanta and they parted ways once more. As she left Stoneguard for the third time, the second with Cyrus’ hand clasped in hers, she felt refreshed and ready to take on whatever life was going to throw at her next.

“And we’re off again.” Cyrus said, smiling at H’aanit. “I do believe I will miss adventuring with everyone once this is all over. Won’t you, H’aanit?”

“Aye. I hath madeth many good friends on this journey.” she said, nodding, “It hast been fun, between the peril and misfortune.”

“Indeed. I do hope finding ‘From The Far Reaches Of Hell’ proves to be relatively painless.”

“T’will probably be fine. I willst be by thine side to protect thee, after all.” H’aanit said, and Cyrus laughed and squeezed her hand.

“Of course! You’ve pulled me out of some pretty perilous situations already, what’s one more?”

H’aanit rolled her eyes as they continued to banter back and forth, heading off to their next adventure. She knew that, no matter what was waiting for them, she would always be right by Cyrus’ side, and he by hers.

#octopath traveler #cyrus albright #h'aanit #cyrus/h'aanit #fanfiction #Jade writes fanfiction

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snufflet · 2 years ago

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You go girl 😄 he deserved that slap. He probably had his reasons to be an asshole back than but coming at her like that the first time he sees the love of his life in a decade? He deserved that slap and I mean I know he meant physically hurting a woman but my best guess is that Bucky will now live through William Congreve’s words: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Because throwing the sentence “I make a rule of not hurting women” at the one woman he probably hurt most is kind of a foolish move 🙈 he won’t know what hit him and I am there for it 😄

Now Natasha is on little bit if a different side for me. Not that yn knows that but damn I can inly imagine how much that comment about her not being needed ever must have hurt her. Yet I do think that it was important for her to hear 🙊 and what did she expect from going after yn? I mean it was pretty clear that Nat’s words wouldn’t exactly be well received but I am excited to see where that relationship will go because I think that Nat will be the first out of the four that will have a connection to yn again 🤔 maybe even in secret because Bucky the big doofus ghosted yn to protect her because there was a real threat to her and now he’s gonna tell them to stay away from her and Nat will ignore it because she misses her best friend 🙈 and now theory time over regarding Nat 😄

When I read that it was Liam Stinson I had to take double take to make sure I read it correctly 😅 also I get the feeling that there is more to the story than her and Liam Stinson just not being friends…i mean maybe Liam Stinson is somehow part of the reason Bucky ghosted her? There are different possibilities how that came to but I do feel like he his part of it. Also I feel like there is more to the story with just how she reacts to hearing it’s Liam her mother set her up with 🙈

The phone call to Wanda had me in stitches 😄😄 I loved it 🥰 Wanda is such a good friend to her. I still kinda can’t believe she is married to Jarvis but I guess it does make a certain amount of sense 😄

And that memory with them and Bucky quoting the lion king 🥹🫠 it’s soooo cute 🥰

I am SO excited for more and I loved that chapter 🥰💚

Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Chapter Three

Mafia!Bucky x Reader

chapter warnings: language, alcohol/drinking, angst, (this is lowkey a slow burn so..)

a/n: so many people in that last chapter were wondering how YN would react to Buckaroo’s comment and well, here we are. also, wanda is the best friend we all should strive to be.

Series Masterlist

Rage. White hot, unbridled rage surged through your body. It was all you felt towards Bucky, no not Bucky, the complete stranger standing before you. Before you could even get your brain to think about what you were doing your hand reared back and landed a slap right on his cheek, quickly a red mark in the shape of your hand was beginning to take form. The surprise in his eyes at your actions was quickly replaced with a dark anger and he opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off.

Keep reading

#mafia au #mafia!bucky #slow burn #stardust reblog challenge

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amememightywarrior · 7 years ago

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[fanfic] The Echo, chapter 1

The Echo Chapter 1 Fandom: FFXIV Synopsis: What do you do when your only champion crumbles to pieces because of all she’s been through? Invent time travel, apparently. But how easy is it to put a broken woman back together again if no one has invented tape? Story tags: fem!WoL, OC (billions of them), AU, Time Travel, Ishgard (everywhere), dragons Rating: probably NC-17. Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter, I think? But definitely swearing. Or if you’re triggered by minor errors in lore, there are definitely some of those, probably. Author Notes: You already know where this is going. Or do you?

He had warned me there would be complications. I'd told Him to hush, I knew what I was doing—well, more than the first go around—so there was less of a chance of me fucking everything up than before.

He had said it was foolish to risk everything for the chance to fix one thing, and yet this one thing I wished to fix needed to be fixed to save...

Save what?

This must be one of the complications he had warned me about.

It was going to be pretty hard to fix anything if I couldn't remember what I was trying to do. I just had to...I just...

Who am I again...?

~*~

«Our covenant yet remains, champion of Hydaelyn.»

The effort it took to open one eye was monumental. The large, mirror-like eyes of a dragon pup greeted me upon success. The pup's tiny triangular snout dipped and its long, fin-like ears flicked as it inspected my face. Then it blew purple fire at me.

“Gah!” I said, jerking my head sideways. Both my eyes popped open, the ice encrusting them melting away under the fiery onslaught. “What the?! What was that for?”

«Rise, mortal, ere thou joineth the dead in these frozen wastelands.»

I sat up, dislodging the pup. “I'm in a snowdrift,” I said. “Why...?” I squinted at the pup, who perched on my knee and looked expectant. I knew this little guy and that deep, menacingly slow-paced voice talking to me. “Mid...Midgardsormr...?” Wind whistled in my ears. The very air was ice. It hurt to breathe. The dragon pup, Midgardsormr, crawled up my arm to sit on my shoulder. “What happened?” I asked.

«A choice hath been made and the price paid,» replied Midgardsormr. «Thou lieth within the embrace of Abalathia's Spine, betwixt two sides of a war once quelled but now rageth as before.»

I looked down at myself. My clothes weren't exactly winter-worthy, but I wouldn't freeze in the next two minutes either. Abalathia's Spine sounded familiar. I wanted to say...Coerthas? “What price?”

«Knowest thou of thy choice?» Midgardsormr asked. He sounded almost perturbed.

I stood and tried to find a landmark. There was a strange sort of castle in the distance that appeared to be mostly unattached to the rest of the world. The rest was mountains and snow. “I don't remember,” I said. “I don't...I know who you are but I can't remember my name.”

Midgardsormr was silent. I needed to avoid death by deep freeze, so I started walking along the lowest part of the terrain. A weight clanking on my back prompted me to look back. Ah, my axe. That was also familiar to me, much like my scaly companion.

«This life thou hast lived ere our arrival here,» Midgardsormr said at last. «Events long past led to a break in thy soul, and though thy strength carried this star for a time, the break soon split thy soul in two. To save the world, we must save the soul that split. The choice thus made, we traveled to the time before the injury was done and came to rest here.»

I stopped. “Wait a second,” I said. “You're telling me my soul split in two because of something and we went into the past to fix it? That's crazy! And you went along with this idea?”

«Thy strength is beyond comprehension, champion of Hydaelyn,» replied the pup, «yet like a diamond wont to shatter when struck upon the correct point, thy heart was pierced and the damage left to fester.»

“I don't see how that justifies the two of us going back in time,” I said. “You shouldn't mess with time. Bad things happen.”

«Thy reluctance is familiar,» Midgardsormr said. «This was the last resort. Know that I would not have allowed it if it were not all we had left.» He flicked his tail against my shoulder and stretched his neck out to point off to the right. «This way, mortal. The sons of Ishgard know not thy face, for thy deeds were erased upon our coming. Tread carefully, and do not make conversation with me around others.»

I kind of remembered that bit about our relationship. He was invisible...imperceptible? to everyone else. I vaguely recalled he could show himself if he wanted, but the details of how I came to know this escaped me. It did assure me that I was not, in fact, crazy enough to hallucinate baby dragons talking in bass voices. “What exactly split my soul? Since I need to prevent that to justify this little trip into history.”

«What destroyed it then will not now,» he said.

I rolled my eyes, exasperated, and started toiling towards civilization again. “So the world's saved already? Yay!”

«Thy flippancy is ill-advised. A powerful bond forged was destroyed in moments.»

I frowned. “So...someone close to me died...and that broke me?”

«As a wyrm breathes as one with their consort, so did thee with thine. With it, an inextinguishable light shone. Yet with the destruction of the bond, the light darkened with bitterness.»

“And if I don't ever have this bond in the first place?”

«Two shall ever be greater than one. That strength is needed, champion. Alone, the balance tips towards Darkness slowly but surely.»

Oh man, this was rich. “Saved by the power of love,” I said. “Come on, Midgardsormr. This isn't a romance novel. Surely there's more to it than that.”

«Thou shalt see in time,» he said. «Enough. I tire of pointless chatter.»

“Before you go, could you at least tell me what my name is?” I asked.

«If thou canst recall such information without help, we are lost,» he said, and fell silent.

He had a point. I spent the rest of time thinking about what I knew of myself. I was twenty-nine...thirty? No, twenty-nine. Or was I twenty-eight? Female. Dark hair, white eyes, pale skin. On the short side. Marauder—no, I was a warrior. I was from...Limsa Lominsa. No, I wasn't from there, but I usually stayed there. I wasn't a pirate. I could have been, though. I knew a lot of pirates. My name was on the tip of my tongue. Ammmm...nope, lost it.

“Midgardsormr, are we friends?” I asked.

His tail slapped my shoulder blade. I got the impression he was surprised by the question. «After a fashion,» he said. «The covenant binds me to thee, yet I do not find thy company intolerable. Thy life is but a mere thread in the long tapestry of existence, but I will never forget thee.»

I smiled. “I guess that's a yes. Sorry if you mourn me too much when I die of old age and all, but I'm still glad we're friends.”

«I will not mourn. It is the nature of mortals to die.»

“So it is.” I noticed some sort of brick edifice poking out of the snow ahead and walked faster. The wind picked up just as I arrived at the door to a strange circular building. I knocked.

The person who opened the door was well over a fulm taller than me, with pointy ears and silvery blue hair. He looked down at me and said, “An adventurer? Do you seek shelter?”

I nodded. He let me in and put his shoulder to the door to close it against the now howling wind. Inside, several other similarly tall and pointy-eared men sat at a table playing some sort of card game. The lone man not wearing chainmail smiled politely at me. He had a wool shirt trimmed with white ruffles and a hat with a big feather across the front. Though the other men in the room had bony, refined faces, his was something of a baby face, with rounder cheeks and a perpetual innocent look. I wondered if I knew him. “Ah, another adventurer,” he said. “Seeking work at Camp Dragonhead, I presume? I fear the blizzard that has just arrived will delay you, rather. What's your name?”

My name came out of my mouth reflexively. “Ameme,” I said. Oh yeah...My name was Ameme Ame. What a weird name.

“Well met, Ameme. I am Lord Francel of House Haillenarte and this is Skyfire Locks,” he said, waving around the room.

“Is Camp Dragonhead far?” I asked.

“Not terribly, but the storm outside...”

Welp, back out it was. “To the north?” I asked, just to be sure I was remembering correctly.

Francel looked concerned. “Surely you can't be thinking of traveling in that...!”

“I'll be fine,” I said. “Just a few minutes inside to warm up and I'll be off.” I seated myself by the rather weak fire and held my hands near the heat. Much better. When I had feeling back in everything, I cracked the door open and slid outside. It didn't want to shut thanks to the wind, but I got it firmly closed and started north.

Skyfire Locks had several buildings on the way to Camp Dragonhead, but they were not very far apart and the blizzard wasn't terrible enough to make me seek shelter every three paces yet. It had crept north as well, but I outpaced it before long and discovered I was on a real, honest-to-goodness road leading to a huge fortified outpost. I made it to about shouting distance of the gates of the outpost when a massive shape hurtled past me, howling like a banshee and waving noodle-like arms. The frost-covered goobbue, a giant block of a creature with a mouth able to swallow three adults whole, charged the gates.

“Great,” I muttered as the outpost guards raced to stop the rampaging goobbue. I unholstered my axe and ran. “Hyaah!!” I shouted, slamming the blade into the goobbue's back. It went through like a hot knife through butter, forcing me to carry my strike until I hit the ground. The goobbue staggered to a stop and, rather to my surprise, fell in two pieces. I hadn't realized I was that strong.

Between the two halves of the goobbue, I saw a group of men looking like they'd been prepared to be squashed, only to be disappointed. The one in front, another pointy-eared man with silver hair like the one who'd let me into Skyfire Locks, mouthed, “Wow!” at me and started grinning. Very dramatically, he pointed behind me. “To arms!” he shouted. “There are more!”

I whipped around to see a veritable army of crazed goobbues, their noodle arms flapping wildly as they rushed the outpost. This was getting better and better. I went to meet them, several other armed men on my heels. They weren't exactly strong, but there were a lot of them all over the place. We were at it for a good twenty minutes killing the lot, mostly because I was the only one who could dispatch them in a single hit and had to do a lot of running around to keep the rest of the men from being crushed. By the time the goobbues quit appearing out of the blizzard, I was starting to feel the burn in my legs. We withdrew to the outpost. I stuck by the gates since just walking in didn't feel right.

“What got into them?” grumbled the gate guard. “You there—the one with the axe. What's your name?”

“Ameme,” I said.

“An adventurer, eh,” he said. “Thank you for your assistance. I've never seen anyone cleave a goobbue in two like that before. Looking for work?” I nodded. “Excellent. We could use someone like you. Lord Haurchefant is—” He stopped and nodded deferentially to the silver-haired man who had just walked up. “Lord Haurchefant, I was just speaking to the adventurer who helped us. She is wanting for employment.”

Haurchefant turned out to be one of those enthusiastic types who gestured a lot when excited. “I saw, I saw! That was magnificent, my friend!” he cried. “To think there are women like you in the world who can bring down a goobbue in a single stroke! My heart skipped a beat when the beast fell in two to reveal your most gallant figure standing behind. Indeed, there is work aplenty for those such as yourself.” He waved to a building not far inside the outpost. “Come, warm yourself by our hearth. We can discuss terms of employment inside. Oh, Ser Hourefaut, if you could...” He started chatting with the gate guard. Figuring him for a talkative sort, I shrugged and entered the building he'd indicated without him.

The building consisted of two stories, with the first story devoted to a single large room furnished with a few chairs, a large table covered in maps and figurines of dragons and knights, a desk and office space in the back, and a large fireplace along the side. Three men exercised shirtless in one corner while a rather motley-looking group of men and women occupied the chairs in another. The biggest of the motley group waved me over, calling, “Oi! Oi, newbie! Over here!”

One of the women, who had cat ears and a tail, said, “Another new face! Welcome to Camp Dragonhead, newbie. They might all be Ishgardians but they're the friendly sort.”

The one who had called me over snorted. “Friendly? Bit more than that, some of 'em. The pay's good, though.”

“Oh, psh,” said the other woman of the group, a freckled brunette with large green eyes. “If ye can't handle Haurchefant staring at yer arse every now and then, ye don't belong here. Not like he does anything, anyway. He's all talk.”

“I think he's nice,” said the cat woman. What was she again...? Miqo'te? That was it. Weren't they more of a warm-weather sort? “At least he's more of an equal opportunity ogler. So what's your name, newbie?”

I was going to be introducing myself a lot, wasn't I? “Ameme.”

The Miqo'te woman beamed. “Nice to meet you! I'm G'buloleh, but everyone calls me Goobbue. The Roe is Moonlight River and my rough-n-tumble Hyur friend here is Essenta. Our silent Elezen companion is Soluvrian. Don't mind him, he's not much of a talker.”

Roe? Oh, Roegadyn. I recalled the names for the various types now. Moonlight River raised a hand in greeting, while Essenta and Soluvrain simply nodded. Soluvrain had his hood up, so all I could see of his face was a flash of red-brown hair and a stern mouth.

“Our new friend here don't seem to be much of a talker herself,” Essenta observed.

Moonlight River decided to continue the conversation about Haurchefant. “You only think he's nice because he doesn't mind when you trip and crash into him!” he told Goobbue.

Goobbue's tail flicked. “He's perfectly kind outside of that! Besides, I thought you liked it when someone complimented your muscles.”

“Not when it's a—hello, Lord Haurchefant. What was the commotion outside?”

I glanced over my shoulder at the man in question as he entered. Haurchefant shut the doors behind himself and dusted the snow off his head. “An army of goobbues—and not the bardic variety, either!” Haurchefant said, smiling at the Miqo'te woman. “I see you've met the hero of the hour already. She split the goobbues in twain as though it were nothing.”

“Really? Ooo, she didn't mention that!” Goobbue leaned forward, interested.

“Not that we gave her a chance,” Essenta noted. “So, Ameme, anything else you'd care to divulge?”

Everyone waited a beat as though they expected me to actually say something. I shrugged. Haurchefant said, “So your name is Ameme, is it? Come, come, let us discuss the terms of your employment.” He led me to the desk in the back and sat in the high-backed chair. As I shifted in front of the desk, he fetched out a sheet of paper and started filling it with beautiful calligraphy. The man's penmanship was gorgeous. “Hmm...you have demonstrated your ability to wield your axe most effectively, but is there aught else you would like to do?” he asked as he wrote.

If there was something else I could do, hell if I remembered. I shook my head.

“Very well, then. Standard pay for a week's worth of work is one thousand gil, not including pay for any extra work you choose to undertake. You also receive a standard sleeping mat and two meals a day. Does this sound fair to you?”

“What sort of work would I be doing?” I asked.

Haurchefant stared at me. I wondered if I had said something wrong, but then he blinked and said, “Oh, fairly standard work for an adventurer—escorting porters, fetching or chopping firewood, things of that nature. Though after what I have seen you do, I may ask you to undertake more dangerous tasks! Nothing as difficult as fighting dragons, of course, but there are many dangers here in Coerthas.”

“Dragons?” I thought of Midgardsormr.

“Yes, the Dravanian horde is a constant threat here,” Haurchefant said. “Outsiders are not expected to assist in any capacity so you needn't worry about getting involved. Should you come to be threatened by a dragon during your duties, we would not be ungrateful if you choose to dispatch it, of course. Ah, and you receive no extra pay for fighting them...I suppose that is something to keep in mind as well.”

“Seems like that might get more dragons killed if you did,” I said.

He shook his head. “It has been tried and we have discovered the skill levels of adventurers far too variable to make it standard practice. Now we actively discourage it, in fact. You can read, I take it? Excellent. Pray look over the document to ensure it is to your liking before you sign at the bottom.”

I took the paper and read it. 'The undersigned hereby agrees to render select services (resource gathering, escort, hunting) in exchange for a weekly stipend of 1,000 gil...'

He really did have the most beautiful handwriting. It was cursive with lots of pretty loops, all regularly sized and at a precise angle. I signed at the bottom with letters that looked like they'd just gotten out of a bar after a full night's drinking.

Haurchefant set the signed document aside and beamed at me. “I look forward to seeing your skills in action,” he said, sounding as though he meant it.

#ffxiv #fanfiction #writing #story #listen I'm sorry #I just started writing things

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swiftlyrics13-blog · 5 years ago

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The Rolling Stone Interview: Taylor Swift

In her most in-depth and introspective interview in years, Swift tells all about the rocky road to 'Lover' and much, much more

By BRIAN HIATT

When we talked seven years ago, everything was going so well for you, and you were very worried that something would go wrong.

Yeah, I kind of knew it would. I felt like I was walking along the sidewalk, knowing eventually the pavement was going to crumble and I was gonna fall through. You can’t keep winning and have people like it. People love “new” so much — they raise you up the flagpole, and you’re waving at the top of the flagpole for a while. And then they’re like, “Wait, this new flag is what we actually love.” They decide something you’re doing is incorrect, that you’re not standing for what you should stand for. You’re a bad example. Then if you keep making music and you survive, and you keep connecting with people, eventually they raise you a little bit up the flagpole again, and then they take you back down, and back up again. And it happens to women more than it happens to men in music.

It also happened to you a few times on a smaller scale, didn’t it?

I’ve had several upheavals in my career. When I was 18, they were like, “She doesn’t really write those songs.” So my third album I wrote by myself as a reaction to that. Then they decided I was a serial dater — a boy-crazy man-eater — when I was 22. And so I didn’t date anyone for, like, two years. And then they decided in 2016 that absolutely everything about me was wrong. If I did something good, it was for the wrong reasons. If I did something brave, I didn’t do it correctly. If I stood up for myself, I was throwing a tantrum. And so I found myself in this endless mockery echo chamber. It’s just like — I have a brother who’s two and a half years younger, and we spent the first half of our lives trying to kill each other and the second half as best friends. You know that game kids play? I’d be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And Austin would be like, “Mom, can I have some water?” And I’m like, “He’s copying me.” And he’d be like, “He’s copying me.” Always in a really obnoxious voice that sounds all twisted. That’s what it felt like in 2016. So I decided to just say nothing. It wasn’t really a decision. It was completely involuntary.

But you also had good things happen in your life at the same time — that’s part of Reputation.

The moments of my true story on that album are songs like “Delicate,” “New Year’s Day,” “Call It What You Want,” “Dress.” The one-two punch, bait-and-switch of Reputation is that it was actually a love story. It was a love story in amongst chaos. All the weaponized sort of metallic battle anthems were what was going on outside. That was the battle raging on that I could see from the windows, and then there was what was happening inside my world — my newly quiet, cozy world that was happening on my own terms for the first time. . . . It’s weird, because in some of the worst times of my career, and reputation, dare I say, I had some of the most beautiful times — in my quiet life that I chose to have. And I had some of the most incredible memories with the friends I now knew cared about me, even if everyone hated me. The bad stuff was really significant and damaging. But the good stuff will endure. The good lessons — you realize that you can’t just show your life to people.

Meaning?

I used to be like a golden retriever, just walking up to everybody, like, wagging my tail. “Sure, yeah, of course! What do you want to know? What do you need?” Now, I guess, I have to be a little bit more like a fox.

Do your regrets on that extend to the way the “girl squad” thing was perceived?

Yeah, I never would have imagined that people would have thought, “This is a clique that wouldn’t have accepted me if I wanted to be in it.” Holy shit, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I was like, “Oh, this did not go the way that I thought it was going to go.” I thought it was going to be we can still stick together, just like men are allowed to do. The patriarchy allows men to have bro packs. If you’re a male artist, there’s an understanding that you have respect for your counterparts.

Whereas women are expected to be feuding with each other?

It’s assumed that we hate each other. Even if we’re smiling and photographed together with our arms around each other, it’s assumed there’s a knife in our pocket.

How much of a danger was there of falling into that thought pattern yourself?

The messaging is dangerous, yes. Nobody is immune, because we’re a product of what society and peer groups and now the internet tells us, unless we learn differently from experience.

I definitely thought about that a lot. I thought about how words are my only way of making sense of the world and expressing myself — and now any words I say or write are being twisted against me. People love a hate frenzy. It’s like piranhas. People had so much fun hating me, and they didn’t really need very many reasons to do it. I felt like the situation was pretty hopeless. I wrote a lot of really aggressively bitter poems constantly. I wrote a lot of think pieces that I knew I’d never publish, about what it’s like to feel like you’re in a shame spiral. And I couldn’t figure out how to learn from it. Because I wasn’t sure exactly what I did that was so wrong. That was really hard for me, because I cannot stand it when people can’t take criticism. So I try to self-examine, and even though that’s really hard and hurts a lot sometimes, I really try to understand where people are coming from when they don’t like me. And I completely get why people wouldn’t like me. Because, you know, I’ve had my insecurities say those things — and things 1,000 times worse.

But some of your former critics have become your friends, right?

Some of my best friendships came from people publicly criticizing me and then it opening up a conversation. Haley Kiyoko was doing an interview and she made an example about how I get away with singing about straight relationships and people don’t give me shit the way they give her shit for singing about girls — and it’s totally valid. Like, Ella — Lorde — the first thing she ever said about me publicly was a criticism of my image or whatever. But I can’t really respond to someone saying, “You, as a human being, are fake.” And if they say you’re playing the victim, that completely undermines your ability to ever verbalize how you feel unless it’s positive. So, OK, should I just smile all the time and never say anything hurts me? Because that’s really fake. Or should I be real about how I’m feeling and have valid, legitimate responses to things that happened to me in my life? But wait, would that be playing the victim?

How do you escape that mental trap?

Since I was 15 years old, if people criticized me for something, I changed it. So you realize you might be this amalgamation of criticisms that were hurled at you, and not an actual person who’s made any of these choices themselves. And so I decided I needed to live a quiet life, because a quiet personal life invites no discussion, dissection, and debate. I didn’t realize I was inviting people to feel they had the right to sort of play my life like a video game.

“The old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Because she’s dead!” was funny — but how seriously should we take it?

There’s a part of me that definitely is always going to be different. I needed to grow up in many ways. I needed to make boundaries, to figure out what was mine and what was the public’s. That old version of me that shares unfailingly and unblinkingly with a world that is probably not fit to be shared with? I think that’s gone. But it was definitely just, like, a fun moment in the studio with me and Jack [Antonoff] where I wanted to play on the idea of a phone call — because that’s how all of this started, a stupid phone call I shouldn’t have picked up.

It would have been much easier if that’s what you’d just said.

It would have been so, so great if I would have just said that [laughs].

Some of the Lover iconography does suggest old Taylor’s return, though.

I don’t think I’ve ever leaned into the old version of myself more creatively than I have on this album, where it’s very, very autobiographical. But also moments of extreme catchiness and moments of extreme personal confession.

Did you do anything wrong from your perspective in dealing with that phone call? Is there anything you regret?

The world didn’t understand the context and the events that led up to it. Because nothing ever just happens like that without some lead-up. Some events took place to cause me to be pissed off when he called me a bitch. That was not just a singular event. Basically, I got really sick of the dynamic between he and I. And that wasn’t just based on what happened on that phone call and with that song — it was kind of a chain reaction of things.

The line being “. . . me and Taylor might still have sex”?

[Nods] And I was like, “OK, good. We’re back on good terms.” And then when I heard the song, I was like, “I’m done with this. If you want to be on bad terms, let’s be on bad terms, but just be real about it.” And then he literally did the same thing to Drake. He gravely affected the trajectory of Drake’s family and their lives. It’s the same thing. Getting close to you, earning your trust, detonating you. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore because I get worked up, and I don’t want to just talk about negative shit all day, but it’s the same thing. Go watch Drake talk about what happened. [West denied any involvement in Pusha-T’s revelation of Drake’s child and apologized for sending “negative energy” toward Drake.]

When did you get to the place that’s described on the opening track of Lover, “I Forgot That You Existed”?

It was sometime on the Reputation tour, which was the most transformative emotional experience of my career. That tour put me in the healthiest, most balanced place I’ve ever been. After that tour, bad stuff can happen to me, but it doesn’t level me anymore. The stuff that happened a couple of months ago with Scott [Borchetta] would have leveled me three years ago and silenced me. I would have been too afraid to speak up. Something about that tour made me disengage from some part of public perception I used to hang my entire identity on, which I now know is incredibly unhealthy.

What was the actual revelation?

It’s almost like I feel more clear about the fact that my job is to be an entertainer. It’s not like this massive thing that sometimes my brain makes it into, and sometimes the media makes it into, where we’re all on this battlefield and everyone’s gonna die except one person, who wins. It’s like, “No, do you know what? Katy is going to be legendary. Gaga is going to be legendary. Beyoncé is going to be legendary. Rihanna is going to be legendary. Because the work that they made completely overshadows the myopia of this 24-hour news cycle of clickbait.” And somehow I realized that on tour, as I was looking at people’s faces. We’re just entertaining people, and it’s supposed to be fun.

It’s interesting to look at these albums as a trilogy. 1989 was really a reset button.

Oh, in every way. I’ve been very vocal about the fact that that decision was mine and mine alone, and it was definitely met with a lot of resistance. Internally.

After realizing that things were not all smiles with your former label boss, Scott Borchetta, it’s hard not to wonder how much additional conflict there was over things like that.

A lot of the best things I ever did creatively were things that I had to really fight — and I mean aggressively fight — to have happen. But, you know, I’m not like him, making crazy, petty accusations about the past. . . . When you have a business relationship with someone for 15 years, there are going to be a lot of ups and a lot of downs. But I truly, legitimately thought he looked at me as the daughter he never had. And so even though we had a lot of really bad times and creative differences, I was going to hang my hat on the good stuff. I wanted to be friends with him. I thought I knew what betrayal felt like, but this stuff that happened with him was a redefinition of betrayal for me, just because it felt like it was family. To go from feeling like you’re being looked at as a daughter to this grotesque feeling of “Oh, I was actually his prized calf that he was fattening up to sell to the slaughterhouse that would pay the most.”

He accused you of declining the Parkland march and Manchester benefit show.

Unbelievable. Here’s the thing: Everyone in my team knew if Scooter Braun brings us something, do not bring it to me. The fact that those two are in business together after the things he said about Scooter Braun — it’s really hard to shock me. And this was utterly shocking. These are two very rich, very powerful men, using $300 million of other people’s money to purchase, like, the most feminine body of work. And then they’re standing in a wood-panel bar doing a tacky photo shoot, raising a glass of scotch to themselves. Because they pulled one over on me and got this done so sneakily that I didn’t even see it coming. And I couldn’t say anything about it.

In some ways, on a musical level, Lover feels like the most indie-ish of your albums.

That’s amazing, thank you. It’s definitely a quirky record. With this album, I felt like I sort of gave myself permission to revisit older themes that I used to write about, maybe look at them with fresh eyes. And to revisit older instruments — older in terms of when I used to use them. Because when I was making 1989, I was so obsessed with it being this concept of Eighties big pop, whether it was Eighties in its production or Eighties in its nature, just having these big choruses — being unapologetically big. And then Reputation, there was a reason why I had it all in lowercase. I felt like it wasn’t unapologetically commercial. It’s weird, because that is the album that took the most amount of explanation, and yet it’s the one I didn’t talk about. In the Reputation secret sessions I kind of had to explain to my fans, “I know we’re doing a new thing here that I’d never done before.” I’d never played with characters before. For a lot of pop stars, that’s a really fun trick, where they’re like, “This is my alter ego.” I had never played with that before. It’s really fun. And it was just so fun to play with on tour — the darkness and the bombast and the bitterness and the love and the ups and the downs of an emotional-turmoil record.

RS1332Taylor SwiftPhotograph by by Erik Madigan Heck for Rolling Stone

Photograph by by Erik Madigan Heck for Rolling Stone.

Dress by Louis Vuitton. Earrings by Jessica McCormack

“Daylight” is a beautiful song. It feels like it could have been the title track.

It almost was. I thought it might be a little bit too sentimental.

And I guess maybe too on-the-nose.

Right, yeah, way too on-the-nose. That’s what I thought, because I was kind of in my head referring to the album as Daylight for a while. But Lover, to me, was a more interesting title, more of an accurate theme in my head, and more elastic as a concept. That’s why “You Need to Calm Down” can make sense within the theme of the album — one of the things it addresses is how certain people are not allowed to live their lives without discrimination just based on who they love.

Sometimes I’ll have a strange sort of fantasy of where the songs would be played. And so for songs like “Paper Rings” or “Lover” I was imagining a wedding-reception band, but in the Seventies, so they couldn’t play instruments that wouldn’t have been invented yet. I have all these visuals. For Reputation, it was nighttime cityscape. I didn’t really want any — or very minimal — traditional acoustic instruments. I imagined old warehouse buildings that had been deserted and factory spaces and all this industrial kind of imagery. So I wanted the production to have nothing wooden. There’s no wood floors on that album. Lover is, like, completely just a barn wood floor and some ripped curtains flowing in the breeze, and fields of flowers and, you know, velvet.

How did you come to use high school metaphors to touch on politics with “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince”?

There are so many influences that go into that particular song. I wrote it a couple of months after midterm elections, and I wanted to take the idea of politics and pick a metaphorical place for that to exist. And so I was thinking about a traditional American high school, where there’s all these kinds of social events that could make someone feel completely alienated. And I think a lot of people in our political landscape are just feeling like we need to huddle up under the bleachers and figure out a plan to make things better.

I feel like your Fall Out Boy fandom might’ve slipped out in that title.

I love Fall Out Boy so much. Their songwriting really influenced me, lyrically, maybe more than anyone else. They take a phrase and they twist it. “Loaded God complex/Cock it and pull it”? When I heard that, I was like, “I’m dreaming.”

You sing about “American stories burning before me.” Do you mean the illusions of what America is?

It’s about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it’s also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line “I see the high-fives between the bad guys” because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it’s horrific.

I don’t think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn’t hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn’t have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that’s ever happened in my career. I’m always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, “Guys, I can’t. I can’t do this. I need you to just take over for me and I’m just going to disappear.”

Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team?

I didn’t even see that, but, like, if that happened, that’s just disgusting. There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it’s become something I’m now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn’t really know that this could happen. But I’m just focused on the 2020 election. I’m really focused on it. I’m really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don’t want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary’s campaign was used against her in a lot of ways.

You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn’t say “fuck it” and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November?

Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It’s like a daily ritual.

Were you just convinced that it would backfire?

That’s literally what it was. Yeah. It’s a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That’s not me being dramatic. And you know that.

There were a lot of people in those stadiums.

It’s true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you’re wearing that red hat, you’re one of them. And if we’re going to do anything to change what’s happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone’s on our side or if they’re on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, “You’re a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We’re going to the mall.”

Here’s a hard question for you: As a superfan, what did you think of the Game of Thrones finale?

Oh, my God. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. So, clinically our brain responds to our favorite show ending the same way we feel when a breakup occurs. I read that. There’s no good way for it to end. No matter what would have happened in that finale, people still would have been really upset because of the fact that it’s over.

I was glad to see you confirm that your line about a “list of names” was a reference to Arya.

I like to be influenced by movies and shows and books and stuff. I love to write about a character dynamic. And not all of my life is going to be as kind of complex as these intricate webs of characters on TV shows and movies.

There was a time when it was.

That’s amazing.

But is the idea that as your own life becomes less dramatic, you’ll need to pull ideas from other places?

I don’t feel like that yet. I think I might feel like that possibly when I have a family. If I have a family. [Pauses] I don’t know why I said that! But that’s what I’ve heard from other artists, that they were very protective of their personal life, so they had to draw inspiration from other things. But again, I don’t know why I said that. Because I don’t know how my life is going to go or what I’m going to do. But right now, I feel like it’s easier for me to write than it ever was.

You don’t talk about your relationship, but you’ll sing about it in wildly revealing detail. What’s the difference for you?

Singing about something helps you to express it in a way that feels more accurate. You cannot, no matter what, put words in a quote and have it move someone the same way as if you heard those words with the perfect sonic representation of that feeling. . . . There is that weird conflict in being a confessional songwriter and then also having my life, you know, 10 years ago, be catapulted into this strange pop-culture thing.

I’ve heard you say that people got too interested in which song was about who, which I can understand — at the same time, to be fair, it was a game you played into, wasn’t it?

I realized very early on that no matter what, that was going to happen to me regardless. So when you realize the rules of the game you’re playing and how it will affect you, you got to look at the board and make your strategy. But at the same time, writing songs has never been a strategic element of my career. But I’m not scared anymore to say that other things in my career, like how to market an album, are strictly strategic. And I’m sick of women not being able to say that they have strategic business minds — because male artists are allowed to. And so I’m sick and tired of having to pretend like I don’t mastermind my own business. But, it’s a different part of my brain than I use to write.

You��ve been masterminding your business since you were a teenager.

Yeah, but I’ve also tried very hard — and this is one thing I regret — to convince people that I wasn’t the one holding the puppet strings of my marketing existence, or the fact that I sit in a conference room several times a week and come up with these ideas. I felt for a very long time that people don’t want to think of a woman in music who isn’t just a happy, talented accident. We’re all forced to kind of be like, “Aw, shucks, this happened again! We’re still doing well! Aw, that’s so great.” Alex Morgan celebrating scoring a goal at the World Cup and getting shit for it is a perfect example of why we’re not allowed to flaunt or celebrate, or reveal that, like, “Oh, yeah, it was me. I came up with this stuff.” I think it’s really unfair. People love new female artists so much because they’re able to explain that woman’s success. There’s an easy trajectory. Look at the Game of Thrones finale. I specifically really related to Daenerys’ storyline because for me it portrayed that it is a lot easier for a woman to attain power than to maintain it.

I mean, she did murder . . .

It’s a total metaphor! Like, obviously I didn’t want Daenerys to become that kind of character, but in taking away what I chose to take away from it, I thought maybe they’re trying to portray her climbing the ladder to the top was a lot easier than maintaining it, because for me, the times when I felt like I was going insane was when I was trying to maintain my career in the same way that I ascended. It’s easier to get power than to keep it. It’s easier to get acclaim than to keep it. It’s easier to get attention than to keep it.

Well, I guess we should be glad you didn’t have a dragon in 2016. . . .

[Fiercely] I told you I don’t like that she did that! But, I mean, watching the show, though, maybe this is a reflection on how we treat women in power, how we are totally going to conspire against them and tear at them until they feel this — this insane shift, where you wonder, like, “What changed?” And I’ve had that happen, like, 60 times in my career where I’m like, “OK, you liked me last year, what changed? I guess I’ll change so I can keep entertaining you guys.”

Yeah, that’s definitely very perceptive of you. And the question posed to me is, if you kept trying to do good things, but everyone saw those things in a cynical way and assumed them to be done with bad motivation and bad intent, would you still do good things, even though nothing that you did was looked at as good? And the answer is, yes. Criticism that’s constructive is helpful to my character growth. Baseless criticism is stuff I’ve got to toss out now.

That sounds healthy. Is this therapy talking or is this just experience?

No, I’ve never been to therapy. I talk to my mom a lot, because my mom is the one who’s seen everything. God, it takes so long to download somebody on the last 29 years of my life, and my mom has seen it all. She knows exactly where I’m coming from. And we talk endlessly. There were times when I used to have really, really, really bad days where we would just be on the phone for hours and hours and hours. I’d write something that I wanted to say, and instead of posting it, I’d just read it to her.

I somehow connect all this to the lyric in “Daylight,” the idea of “so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” — it’s a different kind of confession.

I am really glad you liked that line, because that’s something that does bother me, looking back at life and realizing that no matter what, you screw things up. Sometimes there are people that were in your life and they’re not anymore — and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it. I told the fans last night that sometimes on my bad days, I feel like my life is a pile of crap accumulated of only the bad headlines or the bad things that have happened, or the mistakes I’ve made or clichés or rumors or things that people think about me or have thought for the last 15 years. And that was part of the “Look What You Made Me Do” music video, where I had a pile of literal old selves fighting each other.

To be Mr. “Rolling Stone” for a second, there’s a Springsteen lyric, “Ain’t no one leaving this world, buddy/Without their shirttail dirty or hands a little bloody.”

That’s really good! No one gets through it unscathed. No one gets through in one piece. I think that’s a hard thing for a lot of people to grasp. I know it was hard for me, because I kind of grew up thinking, “If I’m nice, and if I try to do the right thing, you know, maybe I can just, like, ace this whole thing.” And it turns out I can’t.

It’s interesting to look at “I Did Something Bad” in this context.

You pointing that out is really interesting because it’s something I’ve had to reconcile within myself in the last couple of years — that sort of “good” complex. Because from the time I was a kid I’d try to be kind, be a good person. Try really hard. But you get walked all over sometimes. And how do you respond to being walked all over? You can’t just sit there and eat your salad and let it happen. “I Did Something Bad” was about doing something that was so against what I would usually do. Katy [Perry] and I were talking about our signs. . . . [Laughs] Of course we were.

That’s the greatest sentence ever.

[Laughs] I hate you. We were talking about our signs because we had this really, really long talk when we were reconnecting and stuff. And I remember in the long talk, she was like, “If we had one glass of white wine right now, we’d both be crying.” Because we were drinking tea. We’ve had some really good conversations.

You could end up gaslighting yourself.

Yeah, for sure. ’Cause so many situations where if I would have said the first thing that came to my mind, people would have been like, “Whoa!” And maybe I would have been wrong or combative. So a couple of years ago I started working on actually just responding to my emotions in a quicker fashion. And it’s really helped with stuff. It’s helped so much because sometimes you get in arguments. But conflict in the moment is so much better than combat after the fact.

Well, thanks.

I do feel like I just did a therapy session. As someone who’s never been to therapy, I can safely say that was the best therapy session.

#taylor swift #swifties #lover #rolling stone #taylornation

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