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falcqns · 3 years

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𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖑

☼ 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Chris Evans x stepdaughter!Reader

☼ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Chris brings you home and you start your new life.

☼ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔤𝔰: reader has adhd and sensory processing disorder, slight angst, fluff, Chris is an amazing dad to reader.

☼ 𝔞/𝔫: thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!!

you drove him a few hours later, following Chris's car in your own. you had no idea what was going to happen when you got back to Boston, but you had a feeling a certain someone was going to be throwing a temper tantrum.

you made it just before dinner time, and a smile spread on your face when you saw that both your mom and your sister's cars weren't in the driveway. you parked in your usual spot, and followed Chris through the house.

"i figured we could start out with moving bedrooms for you." Chris said, and you looked at him quizzically as he grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen. he smirked when he saw the confusion on your face. "i'd been trying to convince your mom for a while to allow you to have y/s/n's room. you're older, and she really doesn't need any more space, considering how messy she is."

you chuckled, and took the water from his hand. "where's Dodge? you asked, looking around and not seeing the happy puppy anywhere.

"at my moms. i dropped him off yesterday before coming after you. i wouldn't put it past your mother to take him with her, and he wouldn't enjoy sitting in the car for too long." he said, and he led you up the stairs.

he opened the door to y/s/n's room, and stepped in. "her stuff isn't packed up yet, they just grabbed a few essentials and left, but their coming back at some point today or tomorrow to pack and move their things. but, i thought we could just get a jump start on things, and move you in here. it has a master bathroom, just like mine, and then we won't have to share anymore. you can turn your room into whatever you want." he explained, and you nodded, looking around at your new room.

you had a lot of work to do. y/s/n had a lot of stuff, and she never took care of her room the way you were taught to. she had clothes all over the floor, and there were even more unworn clothes still in their bags from the store. no wonder she never had any money.

"i'll grab a garbage bag, and we can get started." Chris said.

a few hours and a meal from mcdonald's later, the room was almost done. you were putting your finishing touched on your rainbow wall that Chris had helped you make, when you heard an engine rumbling in the driveway. you dismissed it, thinking it was Chris coming home with Dodger.

you hung up the last photo, a photo of Superman in Justice League, when your door opened. you flipped around, a smile on your face, a smile that fell when you saw who exactly was standing there.

your sisters face contorted into anger, before she took in the room. when she noticed that none of the things in the room belonged to her, she flipped out, and stormed off to find your mother.

"MOOOM! Y/S/N MESSED UP MY ROOM!"

you sighed, rolling your eyes, and turning back to your bed. you grabbed your phone off of it, and texting Chris.

"mom and y/s/n are here just so you know," you sent, and locked your phone just as your mother came storming in the room. you saw the anger burning behind her eyes.

"you've really done it now." she said. "as if causing constant problems, not doing your school work, and being disobedient wasn't enough, you had to go and do this? this is your sisters room, not yours."

you shook your head, a little confused. "uhm, no, it's not. it's mine now. that's what Chris said. he helped me do the majority of this. he said th-" you began to defend, but she cut you off.

"i don't care what he told you. this is my house too, and you aren't going to get to sit here and get away with all of this bullshit that i've put up with for 16 years." you gulped, hoping Chris was on his way home.

"y/s/n and i aren't moving out, so you best get packing to move back into your room." she said, and turned on her heel. as she did, you heard Chris enter the house. you sat down on the bed, your hands shaking slightly. you knew she wasn't telling you the truth, but there was that nagging thought in the back of your head that maybe, just maybe, they'd worked things out, and you would be forced back into the other room.

to any other person, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. but to you, moving rooms signified the change in your life. you were losing a 'mom' and a 'sister', but you were gaining a dad. a dad who understood you, and wanted to get you help in school. moving back into the old room, to you, signified that nothing was changing. that you were going to be stuck in the same rut you have been for 16 years.

you heard some voices downstairs, and talking slowly developed into yelling. you had no idea exactly what the voices were saying, but they were loud enough to make you crawl under the covers on your bed, and wait for them to stop. once they did, you heard feet coming up the stairs, and you curled up tighter, thinking they belonged to your mother.

the door opened, and you braced yourself for the screaming of a lifetime, but it never came. instead, you were greeted with a weight sitting on your bed, and a warm hand rubbing your back.

"it's okay. they're not staying. they're packing their things up right now, and then they'll be gone. don't worry, nothing she said about you was true." Chris reassured you. you nodded, and sniffled.

"you're going to be okay."

a year and and a half later, and you were a completely different girl. Chris had officially adopted you, and you'd called him dad ever since that court date that had been attended by his entire family.

to your surprise, your mother stayed in Boston. y/s/n and you still attended the same school, and you two stayed away from each other. there was no hope for a relationship with you two, and Chris never pushed you.

speaking of Chris, you had never been more grateful for your dad. he'd held true to his promise about getting you help. he'd taken you to every doctor he could, and after receiving your diagnosis's of ADHD and Sensory Processing Disorder, he'd taken every precaution possible to ensure you were able to thrive. he'd worked with your teachers, and you were allowed to leave the classroom and go for walks when needed. he enrolled you in gymnastics and yoga. you had a tutor, and he gave you an Erin Condren planner that could be personalized with sticker kits to help you keep on top of everything. he made sure you had as many stress relieving techniques such fidget toys, and you had recently started occupational therapy.

you were Chris's happy girl, a sharp contrast to 'the problem child' as you were described to be when he first met your mother. you had been instantly accepted as a part of the family, and he always made sure you knew that you were the number one priority in his life. wether that meant not taking a role because he'd have to be away from you for too long, or taking the role and adjusting your life and schedule to ensure that you could come with him. no issue was too big or too small in his eyes, not when it came to his daughter, his little girl.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x stepdaughter!reader #tw adhd #tw sensory processing disorder

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josiebelladonna · 5 years

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I’m coming out of my queue hole to tell y’all not to waste another tear on Vicky Cornell.

Just as a disclaimer, I am not one of those conspiracy theorists who’s trying to spread bullshit lies to bring damage to Toni and little Chris, no, I’m not in any way that kind of person (and even if I was, I have much better things to do than start shit with someone I don’t even know).

The first reason is the elephant in the room: she and her mom both are rude to Lily. Case in point, a couple of months ago, I tweeted her telling her to talk to her mom because Toni was saying some pretty inflammatory things about Lily and needless to say, it brought out the big sister in me (helps that she and I are about six years apart).

And let’s just say Vicky got her panties in a knot about it, messaging me and getting all in a snit about it--I forget what she said, but it wasn’t very kind. It took me a while to reply (I was doing stuff), but I basically said—in public—”look, I know what this family is going through right now because I have had experience before: after my grandpa died, I watched my dad’s family descend into dysfunction, and unlike them, you can resolve their differences by talking to each other instead of being bullies, and Vicky never replied. She never replied back. If there’s anything that listening to the Orange speak has taught me, it’s that those with a guilty conscience go into denial in some way. In his case, it’s pointing fingers: with her, it’s getting snippy followed by the silent treatment.

The second goes hand in hand with that: if you’re on Twitter, you probably see her going on about social justice and #keepingthepromise and Satan knows what else. See, I don’t know about all of you but I can’t take someone who calls themselves a humanitarian seriously if they don’t practice what they preach (mainly why I can’t stand Otep Shamaya as a person even though she’s a great poet and musician; Jessica Miller, too: modelling is one of, if not THE, most brutal jobs in the world, and she talks about ~profound causes~ in the world of high fashion and yet absolutely reeks of digging for gold—after witnessing her behavior on IG, why else would she marry Lars? Models don’t make much money, especially those in fashion, and when they do it’s very few and far between). And that’s why you will never see Keep the Promise out of me: I can’t participate in something so noble when the person leading the pack condones—even participates—verbal abuse from her mother unto her stepdaughter.

I mean, really, I have far more respect for Susan Silver now after all that she’s done for Chris’ estate and of course for Lily; that alone should tell you something.

The third thing, and this... now, understand this is just an educated guess after reading about what Krist and Dave went through with Nirvana’s music after Kurt passed (even though they were suing the estate and Courtney just so happened to be there), but if it’s true, I have no words for this. My mom showed me the latest interview with Kim (I wasn’t able to save the link but you can probably find it via our friend Google) and he talks about him, Ben, and Matt not having access to the new songs, the songs from Soundgarden’s new album because they made enough material to bring it all together and release it for us. They can’t even get to their own music, more than likely because Vicky’s blocking it.

I have no words. None. Actually, no, I take that back: Soundgarden is my favorite band and I was going to make art for them and this is why that woman can eat my shit and suck the three of them with her eyes open, and even then she’d probably play the victim.

That’s another thing, too. See, I miss Chris every day. Every single day. I had my quarter life crisis when he passed--how many people can say that? I know what it’s like, shit rolls downhill. But I’ve been bullied enough times and experienced enough abuse in my life to know how to tune out haters, and instead of rolling with the punches like Courtney Love, Vicky chooses to let it get under her skin, still, to this day, two years later.

When my grandpa passed back in 2006, I remember I would get nailed to the wall if I brought him up around any of my relatives: and on the anniversary of, it was almost like a cult, in which we were almost required to rally around my grandmother and relive that grief, the grief of losing Grandpa to cancer instead of coping with it in a healthy manner. In fact, they were so neurotic about it that ten years after, they insisted I continue joining in even though I saw how unhealthy it is on the one year anniversary. What Vicky’s doing is the exact opposite, but with the exact same result. You can’t cope with grief by stifling down the tears, nor can you cope by bringing it up ad infinitum. Both methods get ridiculous, and not to mention unhealthy after a while.

Vicky is not—IS NOT—doing her kids, the fans, anyone, justice with any of her actions, even though she thinks she is, i.e., that is textbook victim mindset.

So to anyone reading right now, if you know what’s good for you, I beg of you: don’t give that woman another iota of attention. Please. Since Chris passed, she has gone from being one of the sweetest people ever to a manipulative bitch suffering from tunnel vision and a major power trip; and her mom’s a tool who needs mental health therapy.

Do it for me, for Lily, for Kim Ben and Matt, and especially for Chris. I’m sure he would understand because he was the one all about the causes and standing for what you believe in, not her.

#rant #personal #chris cornell #vicky cornell #lily cornell silver #soundgarden #text

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sapphires-and-gold-fics · 5 years

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Fictober Day 13: “I never knew it could be this way.”

Fandom: Game of Thrones / ASOIAF / Jane Austen

Characters: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth, and a whole bunch of other characters that I have shoved into this Sense & Sensibility adaptation

Notes: Alright listen. This was just going to be a very short little passage from Sense & Sensibility adapted for ASOIAF/GOT characters and then it just got away from me. It ran. It fucking ran. So now it's the first five chapters of Sense & Sensibility adapted for Brienne & Jaime. I know what you're thinking - WTF? My answer to that is... IDK. I honestly thought I was going to be shoehorning Brienne into this thing and I have to say she's been much more cooperative than I ever imagined. A word of warning - I don't know that I will pick this up again at any point. I 'm not making any promises. I love S&S and I love GOT and I REALLY love the world that I've mashed them into but I don't know if it's sustainable. So... I guess please don't get too attached? But if you like it, let me know! I was gonna do something else for NaNoWriMo but if this is pleasant for people maybe I'll do this instead? Please please please comment whatever your feelings because that will help me know if this is something that other people will enjoy or if this is unique to me, and I should put it to bed. Thank you all for reading "Put Me Back Together" thus far. I hope to not go as crazy for the rest of the month.

Read on AO3

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***

The Stark Family had long been settled in the North. Winterfell, their estate, was large. And for many generations they had lived respectably, earning the good opinion of their neighbors.

Mr. and Mrs. Ned Stark had no sons, only three daughters; one, product of his first marriage, who was of an age to be wed, and two others by his present lady. With luck, his daughters could beget sons during Ned’s life, and he might thereby amend the inheritance. In the meantime, the estate was entailed away to his cousin and best friend from childhood, Mr. Robert Baratheon who had improved on his already considerable wealth, in marriage. To him therefore the inheritance was not so really important as it was to Ned’s daughters.

Ned might reasonably hope to live many years and to save a considerable sum for his family should he pass before a male issue came. Regretfully, he passed within a year of inheriting Winterfell; and the sum of ten thousand dragons was all that remained for his family.

Robert was sent for as soon as Ned’s illness was known, and to him Ned recommended, with all the urgency which illness could command, the interest of Catelyn and the girls. Robert promised to do everything in his power to make them comfortable. Ned was made easy, and Robert had then time to consider how much precisely was in his power.

***

No sooner was Ned’s funeral over, than Robert’s wife Cersei, without sending any notice of her intention, arrived with her child and their servants. No one could dispute her right to come; but the indelicacy of her conduct, and her ability to act with so little attention to the comfort of other people made things highly unpleasing. So acutely did Catelyn feel this ungracious behaviour that she would have quit the house immediately, had not the entreaty of her husband’s eldest girl induced her first to reflect on the propriety of going.

Brienne, this eldest daughter, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment (according to her father, she had inherited these characteristics from her late mother, who had died in childbirth); these qualified her, though only nineteen, to be Catelyn’s counsellor and to counteract that eagerness of mind which otherwise could lead to imprudence. She had an excellent heart and was affectionate of disposition, but she knew how to govern her feelings, however strong, as evidenced in her disciplined pursuits - riding, archery, even fencing. Her father had supported these in acknowledgement of her departed mother’s interests. Her strength of character and ability to control her emotions was a skill that her stepmother and sisters had resolved never to learn.

At sixteen, Sansa's abilities were, in some respects, equal to Brienne's. She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything. The resemblance between her and her mother was strikingly great. Brienne saw, with concern, that she and Catelyn encouraged each other now in the violence of their affliction. Brienne, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could exert herself for propriety and could strive to rouse her stepmother to similar exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance.

Arya, the youngest sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; but as she had already imbibed a good deal of both Sansa’s romance and Brienne’s quiet guardedness, she was a bit wild and spent much time in trees.

***

Cersei Baratheon now installed herself mistress of Winterfell; and the Stark women were degraded to the condition of visitors. As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet civility. Robert had resolved to make a gift of three thousand dragons for the girls as the measure of support he had promised Ned. But Cersei did not at all approve. To take three thousand dragons from the fortune of their dear boy would be akin to impoverishing him. She begged him to think again on the subject. Why was he to ruin himself, and their poor little Joffrey, by giving away all his money to strangers?

“It strikes me that they can want no money at all,” said she, “for they will have ten thousand dragons divided amongst them. If they marry, they will be sure of doing well - Sansa shall, at least - and if they do not, they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of ten thousand dragons."

“I believe you are right, my love; whatever I may give them occasionally will be of far greater assistance. It will certainly be much the best way. A present of fifty dragons, now and then, will prevent their ever being distressed for money, and will, I think, be amply discharging my promise to Ned."

"To be sure it will. I am convinced within myself that Ned Stark had no idea of your giving them any money at all. Indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did. They will be much more able to give you something." In the end, Robert insisted that Catelyn and the girls stay on at Winterfell until they could find a suitable home; in doing so, he saw his promise as kept.

***

They remained at Winterfell several months. Catelyn was impatient to be gone, and untiring in her inquiries for a suitable home in the neighbourhood. But she could not find a situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and ease which also suited the budget as Brienne had laid out for them.

The contempt which she had early-on felt for Robert’s wife was very much increased by prolonged acquaintance with her character. Catelyn might have insisted on leaving sooner, Brienne’s prudence by damned, had not a particular circumstance arisen. That is, there was growing attachment between Brienne, and Cersei’s brother, a proud young man whose gentlemanly qualities were at first in question, though they improved upon acquaintance, who was introduced to their household soon after his sister's establishment at Winterfell, and who had since spent the majority of his time there; most of it was spent at Brienne’s side.

Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of interest, for Mr. Lannister was the eldest son of a man who was very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence, for the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his father. But Catelyn was uninfluenced by either. She thought only of Brienne’s happiness. It was enough that he was honorable, that he had an affection for her stepdaughter, and that Brienne returned the partiality.

Mr. Jaime Lannister was not recommended to their good opinion by any particular graces of person or address. He was handsome to be sure, but his manners required intimacy to make them pleasing. He was proud, yet almost too shy to do himself justice; but when his natural shyness was overcome - most obviously when he was not in the company of his sister, but most pronounced when he was with Brienne - his behaviour gave every indication of an open, loyal heart. But he fitted neither by abilities nor disposition to answer the wishes of his father and sister, who longed to see him distinguished in the world. His father wished to interest him in political concerns. Cersei wished it likewise, though perhaps not so lofty as to take him away from her influence. But all of Jaime’s wishes centered in more earthly things. He spoke of farming as oft as he spoke of military pursuits. He preferred riding a horse to driving a barouche, and it had nothing to do with the knowledge of how fine a figure he cut whilst riding.

Jaime had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged much of Catelyn’s attention; she saw only that he was tall and quiet in the presence of others. He did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind. She was first called to observe and approve him farther quite by accident when the sharp strange sound of steel clashing in the garden caught her ear. When she made her way thence, she was surprised - not to see Brienne clad in breeches, or even to see her sparring with Cersei’s brother, but by Brienne’s smile - a sight she’d not seen in many moons.

***

Catelyn now took pains to get acquainted with him. She speedily comprehended all his merits as well as his faults, but the persuasion of his regard for Brienne perhaps assisted in disregarding the latter; she felt assured of his worth: and even his reserve, which went against all her established ideas of what a young man's mien should be, was no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm toward her girl. She considered their attachment as certain, and looked forward to their marriage as rapidly approaching.

"In a few months, my dear Sansa." said she, "Brienne will, in all probability be settled for life. We shall miss her; but she will be happy."

"Perhaps," said Sansa, "I may consider it with some surprise. Mr. Lannister is very handsome and amiable, but yet there is something wanting. He would rather speak of horses and swordplay than anything approaching artistry. Though he admires Brienne's drawings very much, he admires as a lover, not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters must be united. Oh! mama, how spiritless was Mr. Lannister's manner in reading to us last night! I felt for my sister most severely. Brienne has not my feelings, and therefore she may overlook it, and be happy with him. But it would have broken my heart, had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility.”

"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. It is yet too early in life to despair of such a happiness."

***

"What a pity it is, Brienne," said Sansa that evening, "that Mr. Lannister should have no taste for reading."

"No taste for reading!" replied Brienne, "He read himself the other night. It is true, he prefers other activities, and he is not a great reader - he confided in me that it… challenges him at times. But he has an innate simplicity of taste, which helps direct him. I hope, Sansa, you do not judge him for this. Indeed, I think you cannot now I’ve explained it. Promise me that you will be civil with him.”

Sansa hardly knew what to say. At length she replied: "Do not be offended, Brienne, if my praise of him is not in everything equal to your sense of his merits. I promise I have the highest opinion in the world of his honor.”

"Of his honor, no one can, I think, be in doubt,” Brienne said quickly, “He and I have been at times thrown a good deal together. I have heard his opinions and, upon the whole, I find him well-informed, his imagination lively, his observation just.” She took Sansa’s hands in hers. “You will agree that, at first sight, my own address is certainly not striking, and my person can hardly be called handsome, yet he has had occasion to call the expression of my eyes... uncommonly good.”

“Uncommonly good? Tell me he used those words again, and I shall indeed change my mind about my civility toward him.”

“No, indeed. He called them… he said they were astonishing… in their similarity to a flower - I’ve mislaid the name. But certainly that meets your demands? He has his pride, Sansa, but the general sweetness of his countenance is easily perceived.”

"When you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall indeed think him sweet, Brienne.”

Brienne started at this declaration. "I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of him—that I greatly esteem, that I like him."

"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Brienne! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment."

“Be assured that I meant no offence to your sensibilities by speaking so quietly of my own feelings. In truth, I never knew it could be this way. Believe my feelings to be stronger than I have declared. But farther than this you must not believe. In my heart I feel scarcely any doubt of his preference. But there are other points to be considered besides his inclination. He is far from being independent. His sister and father wish a great deal for him, and I am very much mistaken if Mr. Lannister is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in his way, if he were to wish to marry a woman who had neither a great fortune nor a high rank, and not even agreeable looks."

Sansa was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth."And you really are not engaged to him!" said she. "Yet it certainly soon will happen. You are so alike, Brienne. You have the same affinity for activity and thought. Trust his feelings as you trust your own. The only thing I am glad for, in your not being promised to him yet, is that I will have greater opportunity to know him and be assured of your future felicity.”

Brienne could not consider her partiality for Jaime in so prosperous a state as Sansa and Catelyn had believed it. There was, at times, a want of spirits about him which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something almost as unpromising - some hesitation or doubt. She knew that his father neither opened his home to Jaime at present, nor gave him any assurance that he might form one for himself, without strictly attending to his wishes. With such a knowledge as this, it was impossible for Brienne to feel easy on the subject. The longer they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard; and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, she believed it to be no more than friendship. But then he would seemingly stumble across her in the library or in the gardens and in the next moment they’d be suiting up to spar. She flattered herself to judge that it was only when he was with her that he seemed truly at ease, and happy. His regard at those times seemed limitless.

***

But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, and to increase her incivility. She took the first opportunity of confronting Catelyn Stark on the occasion, talking to her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Tywin Lannister's resolution that all his children should marry well, and of the danger attending any young woman who attempted to draw her brother in; Catelyn could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to be calm. She gave Cersei an answer which marked her contempt, and then instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her Brienne should not be exposed another week to such insinuations.

In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the post, which contained a proposal particularly well-timed. It was the offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a cousin of hers, a gentleman of consequence and property in the Riverlands. The whole of his letter was written in so friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure to his cousin; more especially at a moment when she was suffering under the cold and unfeeling behaviour of those she currently depended upon.

She needed no time for deliberation or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. The situation of Riverrun Park, in a county so far distant from the North as the Riverlands, which, but a few hours before, would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh every possible advantage belonging to the place, was now its first recommendation. She instantly wrote Edmure Tully her acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal; and then hastened to show both letters to her daughters, that she might be secure of their approbation before her answer was sent.

Brienne had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle at some distance from Winterfell. On that head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose her stepmother's intention of removing into the Riverlands. The house as described by Mr. Tully, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought her any joy in her current state of uncertainty, she made no attempt to dissuade Catelyn from sending a letter of acquiescence.

***

No sooner was the letter dispatched, than Catelyn indulged herself in the pleasure of announcing to the Baratheons that she should inconvenience them for not much longer. Cersei said nothing; but her husband civilly hoped that she would not be settled far from Winterfell. She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going into the Riverlands.

Jaime turned hastily towards her, his voice full of surprise and concern, and repeated, "The Riverlands! Are you, indeed, going there? So far from hence! And to what part of it?" She explained the situation, describing Riverrun Park and its position along the Green Fork. She watched Jaime absorb the information and then turn his eyes to Brienne.

Catelyn concluded with a very kind invitation to Robert and Cersei to visit her. To Jaime she gave one with greater affection. To separate Jaime and Brienne was as far from being her object as ever; and she wished to show Cersei how totally she disregarded her disapprobation of the match.

***

The furniture was all sent ahead. It chiefly consisted of household linen, plate and china, with a handsome pianoforte of Sansa's. Cersei saw the packages depart with a sigh: she could not help feeling that as Catelyn’s income would be so trifling in comparison with their own, she should have any handsome article of furniture. Their man and one of two maids were sent off immediately into the Riverlands, to prepare the house for their mistress's arrival.

Catelyn took the house for a twelvemonth. No difficulty arose on either side in the agreement; and she waited only for the disposal of her effects at Winterfell before she set off for the south; and this, as she was exceedingly rapid in the performance of everything that interested her, was soon done, though she dawdled for two days longer than necessary in order to give Jaime and Brienne more time together.

They spent the majority of their afternoons walking the fields just beyond the garden away, by design, from Cersei’s prying. Brienne would have been contented with the library and gardens and their usual routine, but Jaime had insisted. There were still moments where he was all too quiet and Brienne was certain that he was preparing to clear the air with the secrets he was harboring, and make more firm his lack of regard for her. But in the next, he would be pressing her hand or smiling at her in that way he had only done before with foil flashing.

***

In a very few weeks from the day which brought Edmure Tully’s first letter to Winterfell, everything was so far settled in their future abode as to enable Catelyn and the girls to begin their journey.

Many were the tears shed by them in their last adieus to a place so much beloved. "Dear, dear Winterfell!" said Sansa, as she wandered alone before the house, on the last evening of their being there; "when shall I cease to regret you!—And who will remain to enjoy you?"

That same eve, Brienne went to the stables to visit to her favorite mare, which Catelyn had sold to Robert when keeping her proved unnecessary and unsustainable for their new life. Brienne was brushing her when the door opened and Jaime appeared out of the darkness, his hair bright, catching the light of her lantern. His look was solemn, and Brienne wondered if the hour of his confession had finally come. But he smiled and pulled a small book from behind his back and offered it to her.

She took it and studied the lettering on the spine, fingering the worn edges of the indigo cover in surprise. “This was my mother’s.”

“So you told me.”

She smiled, “You remembered.” He nodded sheepishly. “My father kept it in his study in the home I grew up in. When we moved here, he added it to the library thinking it would be kept in the family.” Jaime stepped forward and laid a hand on hers comfortingly, warm, “He used to read to me from it - stories of princesses and merfolk and knights… all of them with happy endings.” She stayed the tears forming in her eyes, and firmed her resolve. She slipped the book back into his hand. “Take it. Take it back. I wouldn’t want to lose track of it between now and morning. It belongs to your sister now.”

“Brienne…” he took her other hand and secured it around the book so that all four of their hands clasped it together. “It’s yours. It will always be yours. She won’t miss it. And even if she did, I would own it, for I was the one who took it. You’re leaving enough behind. I don’t wish for you to part with something so dear.” His hands were warm on hers and of them was trembling though she couldn’t tell if it were Jaime or herself or both. She nodded and he let go, his fingers whispering against the backs of her hands. “May I walk you back to the house?”

Brienne looked from him back to the mare whom she had abandoned on Jaime’s arrival. “I haven’t finished my goodbyes.” Jaime looked somewhat sad but he nodded understanding, and turned to go. “Jaime - “ he stopped and turned back to her, something shining in his eyes“ - we did not gather as usual after supper tonight.” She held out the book, “Will you read to me?” He grinned, a shadow of his usual smile, and took it. Then he sat on the stool by the door and slowly read her a well-traversed tale of knights and dragons while she worked until the horse’s coat shone.

***

The next morning, Robert and Jaime saw the Stark women off. Cersei claimed a headache and stayed abed. Jaime handed each of the women into the hired carriage. He lifted Arya into it, setting the eight-year-old giggling; then Catelyn who kissed his cheek like an affectionate aunt; then Sansa who, grasped his shoulders dramatically and wished him well; and finally Brienne. He handed her into the carriage, and then she reached her arm out of the window so that he might shake it. Instead, while Robert engaged the others from the other side of the carriage, Jaime looked up at her sadly and pressed her hand harder than she expected, and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “Goodbye… Miss Stark.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Lannister.”

He silently mouthed “Jaime” and she nodded before her hand retreated back into the carriage. He set a smile on his face - the kind he maintained in mixed company - and joined Robert on the opposite side of the carriage, and from there the two waved them off as the Stark women drove away from Winterfell.

***

They would travel four days to reach Riverrun. On the third night they were stopped at an inn and Brienne was alone while her stepmother and sisters finished supper below. She drew the indigo book out of the reticule she kept on her person. The edges seemed more worn, more loved, than she remembered. She settled onto the bed to read one of her favorite passages when she noticed that something almost the color of the cover seemed to be tucked into the pages about a third of the way through the book.

She carefully parted the pages to that spot and there, carefully pressed, was a cluster of five-pointed blue blossoms with yellow starbursts at the center of each. They marked in the book her favorite tale - that of Ser Galladon of Morne. And the blossoms themselves were the exact shade of her eyes. She’d been avoiding the truth when she told Sansa that she couldn’t recall the name of the flower Jaime had compared them to - she hadn’t wanted to inspire her sister’s romantic notions. But presented with them now, and in the privacy of her solitude, she could not deny her own notions. For if he’d meant to express indifference, why send her away with the book? And why press forget-me-nots between the pages?

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allthingsroleplay · 5 years

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Jessica Chastain and Justice Smith (or open) wanted for a complicated family dynamic. Wife unknowing (or perhaps knows) that her husband is cheating on him and is gay. She’s having a hard time dealing with her stepdaughter. The adopted son who thinks his dad is great but is slightly terrified of his sister.

#premium jcink #character request #shipper app #city town rpg #supernatural rpg #submission

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eenslaved · 6 years

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After I posted my recent author/book recommendation entry, I kept thinking about it. Something was needling me. Just now, I realized what it was.

I made the bold claim that my top five favorite erotica writers are Joey W. Hill, Tessa Bailey, Jana Aston, Cherise Sinclair, and now, Eve Dangerfield. But that was wrong, totally wrong, because I somehow completely forgot about Trent Evans.

Nothing I could ever write about these stories would do justice to his work. I don’t have the words or the skill to adequately describe for you what it’s like for me to read one of his books. But I’m going to try because everyone deserves to read his stories.

If you’re into BDSM, power exchange, ownership, humiliation. If you’re into stories where women are willingly objectified and treated as property of their husbands and Masters. If you’re into tales of women being shared by their Masters. Or if you’re into women being milked and used and punished and pushed to their limits. If all that and more, then you have to read Trent Evans.

Beautiful writing. Memorable characters that I care about, engaged in loving, stern relationships. Unbearably arousing, makes me wet, gets my heart pounding and my breath panting, scenarios.

Take the most recent book of his that I read, Tamara’s Choice. The synopsis doesn’t do it justice. Even as I pass through the Dominion Trust’s Farm, little scenes like this excerpt just - make my breath catch and my eyes widen and I have to press my legs together and I feel like I’m going to combust.

Then the man had his wife turn and face them. She was tightly blindfolded, her teeth worrying her lip, her cheeks blazing scarlet as she turned her face up to them.

“Say hello, girl,” the man said, his voice cool. “You know what’s expected. Spread your legs like you’ve been taught.”

...

“Hmm,” Jack looked down at his wife, scratching his jaw. “She’s destined to join her sisters at the pumps, but not until after our baby is born.” He met Eldon’s gaze then, a glint in the man’s eyes that was pure lustful avarice. “There’s no way she’ll be allowed to end lactation until I’m ready, though — if ever.”

Jessica paled at that pronouncement.

Her strict husband continued. “I brought her down to the harvest sheds to see what awaits her once the time is right. She proved recalcitrant when she saw what they do here, so I bound and blindfolded her, then disciplined her. Forcing her to face the wall and listen in obedient silence to what happens in here is a lesson I don’t expect she’ll forget soon.”

—Tamara’s Choice by Trent Evans

That’s just the tip of the iceberg of this passing scene. (If the author ever stumbles across my blog, I am issuing a heartfelt plea for him to write more of Jack and Jessica.)

I’m wet just writing this post.

If you’ve been following my blog any, then you know I have a smidge of a lactation kink. (More than a smidge.) I love how it can become a major humiliation factor, and I love the aspects of ownership, of a woman’s body submitting and fulfilling the needs of another and being used. But like the stepfather/stepdaughter theme, while there are plenty of books available on this, they by and large SUCK. They suck so bad. Pro tip, if the word “milk” is in the title, it probably sucks. (The sole exception that I’m aware of is Jena Cryer. Prove me wrong, please, send me your recommendations!) Those books are totally interchangeable. All the word choice and the scenes are practically identical. Very superficial and surface-level, those books never engage my brain, and I get too frustrated by them to be turned on. (Big Sky by Kitty Thomas remains my favorite, though I wish there was a dash more obvious romance.) But when Trent Evans writes about a woman being milked, it’s all I can do not to get on my hands and knees.

Buy his books today—they’re also available on Smashwords and maybe other places.

#blog #book review #recommended

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heavens-light-and-hells-ice · 6 years

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Cendrillon

Once upon a time, on a beautiful estate not far from the city, there lived a man and his daughter. They lived without want and with love for each other, and they were very nearly happy. But the man, a widower, wished to be married again, and he took for his second wife a widow of noble blood but little money, bringing her and her two small girls to live with every comfort on his estate. He promised his two stepdaughters generous dowries and honored all three girls equally as his dear children -- and he prayed his new wife would love them the same way.

They all lived happily for a time. But fate proved unkind -- a stroke of illness took the man suddenly to the grave. He died intestate, and his wife was given the care of the estate until the girls came of age. At first, the family wept together and comforted each other -- but by the time to shed the mourning-clothes came, things began to change.

The widow spoiled and coddled her two youngest daughters, but as time passed she treated her stepdaughter with more and more contempt. The little girl was made to scrub and clean while her sisters were forbidden from work, lest their beautiful hands and faces be dirtied. She mucked the stables and carried heavy pails in the sun while her sisters were confined indoors to protect their complexions. By and by her stepmother even made her bedroom into a parlor for her sisters and made her sleep in the kitchens. When she curled up by the fireplace to stay warm, her hair and face became so dirty with soot that her sisters, too young to understand that their jesting hurt, laughed and began to call her Cendrillon.

And so she grew up drab and weary, cut down by her stepmother's cruel words, while her sisters grew up pretty ladies -- but Cendrillon was never quarrelsome, as she had a kind heart, and her father had told her to love Halone and her stepmother, and she had ever been taught that to do so meant to keep silent and obey. And though her days were hard, she still had cause to smile now and then, as her gentle nature gave her friends among the servants and in the farm's old chocobo, with whom she spent every free bell that she was not instead in her father's library.

Around the time of Cendrillon's sixteenth nameday, an old friend of her father, curious as to the welfare of his late friend's family but confined to his home in the city by his poor health, bid his eldest son pay a visit to their estate. The young man, in training at the Tribunal, did so as soon as he was able to step away from his studies, arriving unexpectedly at the country house's door. He was greeted by the mistress and two pretty young ladies in colorful silks -- and one shy girl whose appearance shocked him.

When he asked, her stepmother shook her head and said, "'Tis a pity that Cendrillon has grown up so coarse and ugly while my daughters have been blessed with beauty, but alas! it must be the will of Halone."

The young man mumbled and nodded but was immediately suspicious, for while the younger girls' faces were indeed fairer than Cendrillon's, so were their clothes and shoes. After dinner, he slyly excused himself and snuck into the kitchen, where he found Cendrillon laboring to scrub the pots and pans.

"Why are you toiling here alone while your sisters don't raise a finger to help?" he asked.

"Their constitutions are delicate," she answered, "and Mother does not want them to break their long nails."

"She dresses your sisters finely and gives you only rags," he observed.

"Fine clothes would get dirty while I worked," she said.

"And you work without even a kitchen maid to help you!" he exclaimed. "Your family is not poor; your stepmother buys finery for your sisters yet makes you alone toil in dust and dirt. 'Tis cruel and unfair, and I am sure your father would be furious to see it."

"Father told me to love Mother and support her however I can," she answered, sharp. "By working hard, I make her and my sisters happy."

The young man understood that he had overstepped, and he apologized. But still he added, "Your happiness matters and is just as important as theirs. You are a good and dutiful daughter, but a parent has duties as well, and while Halone teaches us to be obedient, She also teaches us to despise injustice. You should not have to suffer as you do."

Hearing it from the lips of another, even kind and patient Cendrillon had to agree. But what could she do? She was but sixteen, and the estate and all her father's wealth were in her stepmother's hands. And she was a woman, and in those days it was not easy for a woman to simply leave home and find work.

"Have you no uncle or aunt, no godparent to help you?” he asked.

“They have all gone to Heaven,” said Cendrillon. “But for my mother and sisters, I am all alone.”

"You are not alone. I will see that you receive Halone’s justice,” he said, standing tall -- and though that was but a few ilms taller than Cendrillon, she was moved by this young man's respect and earnest kindness, and she thanked him sincerely. He returned to the city the next day, and as soon as he left, her stepmother redoubled her cruelties towards Cendrillon -- but now she endured it with her chin held a little higher.

After a few moons, the young man returned, having buried his nose in every book of law he thought might be relevant to Cendrillon's case; that evening, he pulled her into a private corner and explained in whispers what he thought. First, though her stepmother's marriage settlement entitled her to a jointure, she was guardian of the estate only till her husband's heirs came of age and had a solemn duty to preserve it for those heirs' future use; second, the profits of the estate ought to be invested solely towards the maintenance and education of the heirs; and thirdly -- and most astonishingly to Cendrillon -- it was even possible that she, as eldest and only blood daughter of the late master, might be, under the strictest interpretation of the law at the time, her father's sole legal heir, for no papers of her sisters' adoption could be found in the archives.

"I cannot think that right," said she on hearing this; "Father cherished us equally, and surely he would wish for us to each inherit an equal share."

"Mayhap so, and he was a good man for it," argued her young advocate, "but your stepmother has not honored his wishes. They say in the city that she spends mountains of coin on silks and slippers to wear to fashionable balls; she spoils herself and her daughters while you are trapped here in the kitchen in naught but rags. I beg you, miss -- allow me to argue your case afore the Tribunal; the adjudicator might be persuaded to assign your family a better guardian, or mayhap declare you fit to take control of the estate immediately."

Cendrillon was uncertain. "Is it godly to scheme against one's own mother in such a way?"

The young man was not uncertain at all. "Is it godly to stand by and allow injustice? Would the Fury look upon your state and think it right? A child has a duty to his parents, yes, but a parent's duty to his child is far graver, and a parent's failure of that duty is a far greater crime. As long as your stepmother abuses her position, you are justified protecting yourself by whatever means you may."

Kind-hearted Cendrillon was still troubled. Even if her sisters sometimes aped their mother's cruelty towards her, they were still young, and she easily forgave them; such little slights were not enough to wish them out of their inheritance. But in the end, she agreed, and the young man returned to the city to make arrangements on her behalf.

Over the next few moons he visited several times, informing her of his progress. The procedures were labyrinthine, and in those days it was particularly hard to persuade the adjudicators to attend to the affairs of the lowborn and minor houses. But by and by he secured a date for Cendrillon's case to be heard, and early that sun he arrived at the house to include her in his final review. She was to remain at home while he argued her case, as back then it was considered unseemly for women of her father's class to appear before the Tribunal.

He arrived at the front door and was met by the lady of the house. After paying the proper respects, he asked, "Is your eldest daughter within?"

"She is tending the vines in the garden," said the stepmother, though it was a lie. From the very beginning, she had hid herself behind the door and listened to everything said between Cendrillon and the young man, and so she knew what they planned for this day. That morning she had tipped a basket of lentils into the ashes of the fireplace and ordered Cendrillon to pick each of them out, a task that would keep her busy for bells. "But tell me -- your father is a merchant of wines, is he not? Did he teach you any of his trade?"

"Only a little before I went to the Scholasticate, but I know a few things," he answered.

"Pray, till Cendrillon's returned, come down to the cellar, that I might show you a few bottles and ask you their worth," the stepmother insisted, and though the young man did not wish to long delay, he was persuaded that a short trip would do no harm.

In the cellar there proved more than a few impressive bottles; the late master of the house had much enjoyed collecting them, having learned to appreciate good vintages from his friend, the young man's father. Likewise had the young man, though a serious student, learned to love good wine, and as he browsed the estate's collection he became so occupied that he did not notice that the lady had quietly walked out until she slammed the door shut and locked him within. "You are a foul meddler," she exclaimed, "but I shan't allow your mischief to succeed and ruin my family."

"I only wish to help Cendrillon, whom you have treated evilly," shouted the young man from behind the door. "And you cannot expect the Tribunal to excuse my false imprisonment!"

"Even the Tribunal will easily forget a mere clerk and lowborn," sneered the lady. "As for Cendrillon, she is only mine husband's daughter, while I have two blood daughters of mine own. Mayhap you think me a wicked stepmother, but -- how are my girls to marry well and live happy lives with naught left them by either father or stepfather? No nobleman will look twice at a girl without a dowry, and when I die, my jointure shall return to the estate and my daughters will starve. I must leave you now, upstart boy, for there's a ball tonight in the city -- my daughters must attend in their southron silks and attract highborn notice. If you've broken no bottles by next morn I shall consider releasing you."

The lady left, taking the key with her and hitching every good chocobo to her carriage, including that of the hapless young man. By the time Cendrillon finished picking all the lentils from the ash, they had long departed.

The wine-cellar was so deep within the walls of the house that Cendrillon could not hear the young man's cries for help. The butler, however, discovered him -- and, though he knew that his mistress would be like to punish him later, he was very fond of Cendrillon, who was gentle and kind and always treated the glassware with care; he chose therefore to lead Cendrillon to the wine-cellar door, though he could not unlock it without the key.

Having heard from the young man all that had happened and all that was said, Cendrillon was stricken. "I now understand," she said, "why Mother has coddled my two sisters alone, dressed them prettily and protected their complexions: if she does not soon catch them husbands, they shall be poor and bereft. I thought myself unfortunate -- how unfortunate are they! If they were orphaned again, mayhap they'd end up without even ashes to sleep in."

The young man was astonished. "You are truly good, Cendrillon, to think of them in this situation -- but their misfortune still does not excuse your stepmother's abuses. We cannot miss this evening's hearing; it could be more than a twelvemoon till I could arrange another, and by then mayhap your stepmother will concoct some lie that will defeat us!"

They tried and tried to open the door, but none of their tricks succeeded. They were at the point of despair when the young man cried, "There is no alternative! Cendrillon must go in my stead to argue her own case." She was aghast, but he continued: "There will be no disputation; you need only lay the evidence before the adjudicator, and I will tell you everything you need to say."

"But I am a woman," cried Cendrillon. "No woman has ever argued alone before the Tribunal!"

In answer, the young man removed his robes and passed them through the narrow crack under the wine-cellar door. This gave him, Cendrillon, and the butler all great embarrassment, but at last Cendrillon was persuaded to don them and tie up her hair in a masculine style. Through the door they reviewed all the details of her case, and with trembling she left to ride up to the city, though the only bird left was the farm's work chocobo, now truly ancient.

As she saddled him, Cendrillon thought with dread, "This poor bird cannot take me to the city in time for mine appointment and back before my stepmother's return." But she thought of the young man's argument that Halone commanded injustice be fought, and so she fervently prayed -- and mayhap She heard, or mayhap that old chocobo she had so many years tended felt his heart swell with tenderness and pride, for he flapped his yellow wings and rose, somehow, into the air, and carried the astonished Cendrillon up into the sky, up above the winding carriage roads, through Daniffen's Collar and the walkways of the Pillars to the great metal doors of the Sacred Tribunal, just in time.

Her inheritance case did not attract a great crowd of onlookers, but still her knees shook with fear as she stepped before the adjudicator. But after the young man, the butler, and the dear old chocobo had all worked so hard to bring her here, she could not allow herself to fail -- so she breathed in deep and spoke as she had been coached, keeping her voice as calm as she could. The arguments and paperwork were all in order, and there was all that was necessary to incline the adjudicator to listen -- and though he asked her several questions for which she'd not rehearsed, her mind was quick and learned enough for her to stammer out intelligent answers. In the end the adjudicator was satisfied, though he informed her that it would be a few suns before he issued his verdict -- and also a clerk of the Tribunal had really ought to wash his face and hair regularly, if he hoped for advancement.

As the bells of the great cathedral tolled midnight, Cendrillon soared over the city, riding her bird home as fast as she could. She arrived just in time to run down to the wine-cellar door, pass the young man's robe back to him, and flee up to the kitchen before her stepmother and sisters returned from the ball; the lady, finding all in order and told naught by the servants, decided to free the young man at dawn. She woke the exhausted Cendrillon to gloat, "I learned of your little scheme against me, but no matter; your friend missed his appointment. Do you see now what happens when you defy your betters?"

Cendrillon replied that she would not see for certain for a few suns yet.

Within a sennight, there was an unexpected visitor at the door. It was the adjudicator, who had traveled down from the city unannounced to see the situation for himself.

"Do you have living here a daughter known as Cendrillon," he asked, "and, pray, mind -- lying to one invested with the power of the Tribunal is an extremely serious offense." The lady of the house understood that and, though she did not wish to do so, revealed to him the girl in the kitchens dressed in rags and covered in soot.

The sight of her face greatly astonished him, and Cendrillon blushed and turned her eyes down. She was very fearful, for she too was guilty of a sort of deception, and so she waited for her punishment. But instead, the adjudicator laughed, and he remarked, "I am glad, after all, that you did not wash."

He presented her with a sheaf of documents explaining his commands. By strict interpretation of the law, he found Cendrillon to be her father's sole heir and to have a duty to support her father's widow till the latter's death, at which time the jointure would revert to the estate. "And," he concluded with a small smile, "as the young woman is exceptionally eloquent and learned, there is no reason to say that she is too immature to take control of her own affairs and rule as mistress of her estate directly."

For this very ruling, Cendrillon and her friend had worked and hoped long and hard, and she could not help but feel elated and relieved. Yet as she turned to her stepmother, who had abused and tormented her for many long years, and upon whom she had now extracted just vengeance, she did not so much feel fury satisfied; now that her fear was gone and power lay in her hands, what she chiefly felt was pity. In her thoughts were not only the unkindnesses she had endured for many years but the unkindnesses her stepmother must also have endured, after her first husband died and his house provided naught for his widow and girl-children; she thought not only of how, as a woman, she had been unable to escape and make her own fortune but of how the same was true of her stepmother and sisters, and she thought of how her stepmother chose the path she took because she thought it the only one left open by a society even more cruel and unfair.

She turned to the adjudicator and her mother and said: "It was my father's wish to provide for my mother and my sisters, and my wish is the same. You may live in the big house, Mother, as long as you wish, and the same for my sisters, who will have dowries sufficient to marry well, if they so like. When Father lived we were a family joined in happiness; 'twas not lack of blood relation but his death that made us turn frightened and distrustful. We have been needlessly unhappy, and if the power to choose again is in mine hands, I choose to create peace and trust again."

And she held her mother's hands in her own, and then she left for the city in the adjudicator's carraige, to sign and register all the documents necessary to secure her independence, her sisters' fortunes, and her family's happiness. Whether from there she returned to the estate to manage the farm and sit with her sisters as an equal or if she stayed in the city to become a great orator at the Tribunal, mayhap to meet that young man again -- no one can quite say which story is true. But you can be assured that she succeeded, that the adjudicator began to change what the city and Tribunal thought of women who speak firmly and leave the home, that the old chocobo grew fat in the green pastures and never needed to fly again, and, indeed, that they all lived happily ever after.

#rosaire ledigne #the ledigne family book #stories #cinderella #papa ledigne #terrible fairy tale retellings #children's stories written at a 10th grade reading level......#rosaire why #also i feel like i pretty much just ripped off all of Ever After (1998)#ic drawings #my doodles //

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brilliantorinsane · 7 years

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The Speckled Band on Stage: Yep, Still Gay

Note: I tagged those who reblogged the first part of this series. Please let me know if you would prefer not to be tagged in future posts.

This is the second installment in my series on obscure Sherlock Holmes film adaptations and their depiction of Holmes and Watson both individually and in relation to each other. (For a discussion of the 1921-23 silent films starring Eille Norwood, which appears to have been Doyle’s favorite adaptation, see here.)

I really didn’t mean to write a post about this one, seeing as it doesn’t strictly fit the theme of this series. It is a play, not a film, and it is only sort of an adaptation—although a retelling of The Speckled Band, it is written by Doyle himself. But while researching a very gay and very terrible 1931 film, I discovered that it was loosely adapted from this play. Naturally I read it as part of my research, telling myself that I wouldn’t get sidetracked writing a post about it. The failure of my self-control now lays before you.

In my defense, this play really is … well it really is Something. All sorts of wonderful and all sorts of tragic. If you’d prefer to read it for yourself before encountering the spoilers in this post, hop on over here and scroll to the second half of the webpage. And if you’ve got your subtext glasses so much as perched lightly on the end of your nose, be ready to be sent reeling by what you find.

(Spoilers below the cut)

Production and Reception

Doyle’s decision to adapt The Speckled Band for the stage was rather spur-of-the-moment. He had leased a theater for six months in order to showcase The House of Temperley, an adaptation of his novel Rodney Stone, but the play was largely unsuccessful (x, x). Threatened with considerable financial loss, Doyle set to work and within a week had written The Speckled Band. Despite its rushed composition the play was decidedly successful, and Doyle seems to have been quite pleased with it (x).

The play alters the original short story considerably. Some changes are so inconsequential as to be puzzling—the villain’s name is changed from Roylott to Rylott, the names of the stepdaughters are switched, etc—but other alterations are structural and make a significant difference. In particular, instead of following Watson’s pov, the audience’s perspective revolves primarily around the Rylott house. The scenes introducing Holmes and Watson are also considerably altered and expanded for potentially unfamiliar audiences, and a good deal more shouting and action is introduced throughout.

Oh, and Watson is engaged to Mary Morstan. Yeah. More on that later.

I have two complaints: First there is an uncomfortable dash of orientalism (i.e., western depictions of the east which cast it as mysterious, dangerous, and Other, and which played a largely unintentional but nonetheless significant role in justifying British imperialism), which is present in the original story but rather more prevalent in the stage play. Second, the female protagonist, although commendably brave, loses what little agency she had in the original story. But aside from these elements, I loved this play. The pacing is good and kept me engaged even when neither Sherlock or Watson are present, Dr. Rylott is genuinely frightening and I was really rather tense at times despite knowing the ending, and the occasional humor is on point—I actually laughed aloud once or twice. Further, ACD’s allegiance with the oppressed is out in full force, and there’s some genuinely touching commentary on the debilitating effects of abuse. And then, of course, there is Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson …

Sherlock Holmes on Stage

Guys. This is, pure and undiluted, Sherlock Holmes at his best. If you ever start to fear that Sherlock really might be the cold and detached reasoning machine some folk have fixated on, just read the way Arthur Conan Doyle writes him in this play. You will never doubt again that he is anything besides a snarky ahead-of-his-time genius with a heart of literal gay gold. We’ll get to the ‘gay’ part in later section, so we’ll set aside his interactions with Watson for the moment. There is plenty else to discuss.

You see, this Holmes does spout a variation of that much abused line from A Scandal in Belgravia, saying: “[love] would disturb my reason, unbalance my faculties. Love is like a flaw in the crystal, sand in the clockwork, iron near the magnet.” I understand that the statement, here and in Scandle, refers specifically to romantic love. Yet I cannot think it’s an accident that nearly the very next moment Holmes is flatly refusing to find the wife of a clearly abusive husband, asking only enough questions to ensure that she has found a safe refuge, even though the law is on the husband’s side and the man offers a whopping fee of 500 pounds. As if Doyle wants to drive home that Holmes accepts cases purely on the basis of empathy for the downtrodden and not finances, Holmes then remarks: “I’m afraid I shall never be a rich man, Watson.” Added to this, the manner in which he listens to, comforts, and puts himself in danger for Roylott’s step-daughter Enid is genuinely touching. As many of us have asserted for years, Sherlock Holmes is the champion of justice, ally of the oppressed, and altogether a beautiful smol man. ‘Love is a flaw in the crystal,’ indeed.

There is also a pleasing dash of Holmes the psychologist. It appears most obviously in an early analysis of Dr. Roylott, but most touchingly toward Rylott’s mercilessly abused servant Rodgers. The man is essentially good-hearted but entirely incapacitated by fear of his master, and this leads to his betraying Enid’s attempts to contact Sherlock. It was obviously a shitty move, but Holmes, who earlier expressed understanding of the thoroughgoing damage caused by the man’s long, forced dependence on a maniac for his basic needs, responds compassionately: “He is not to be blamed. His master controls him.”

Added to this we have Holmes in disguises, bamf!Holmes, Holmes calling people idiots and taking far too much delight in dancing circles around them, and of course utterly brilliant Holmes (though that’s a given), so it seems almost an embarrassment of riches that we also get peak sassy Holmes. He makes a number of delightful appearances, although my favorite is the following, which occurs after he has agreed to protect Enid from Rylott:

RYLOTT: What I ask you to do — what I order you to do is to leave my affairs alone. Alone, sir — do you hear me? HOLMES: You are perfectly audible.

As utterly delightful as all of this is, Holmes’s darker side is not entirely absent, at least in his personal habits—the cocaine does make its appearance. But more on that later.

John Watson on Stage

To be honest, I found myself rather anxious about how Doyle would depict Watson. We fans have been in the habit of discovering Watson between the lines of the cannon stories—as the man is far more interested in talking about Holmes than himself, it takes a bit of digging to discover Watson’s outstanding qualities. But what if the Watson we love so dearly is our own invention, and Doyle himself was simply uninterested in the man except as a conduit to portraying Holmes?

I really shouldn’t have worried.

It is true that Watson rather disappears into the background once Holmes is working. But that is not to say he becomes at all useless. In fact, the Watson in this play is quite simply our Watson—kind, steady, intelligent, dangerous, and with something of a temper hidden beneath the steady veneer.

In the play, Watson is the doctor who examines the body of the first murdered sister (who is here called Violet) two years before Holmes becomes involved in protecting the remaining sister, Enid. Watson, bright fellow that he is, clearly suspects that something is off. Ultimately there is nothing he can do at the time, but his involvement allows for one my favorite moments: Watson employing Holmes’s deductive skills. True, it is for a single, relatively inconsequential matter; but he does it and he’s right and he impresses the whole room and guys! Watson! is! an! intelligent! man! I mean, we’ve all known that for forever, but its rather nice to get such a clear nod of agreement from Dyole.

In addition to his intelligence, Watson exhibits a empathy and compassion that in this story will be matched (not surpassed) only by that of Holmes. As an old friend of Rylott’s now-dead wife, Watson acts as comforter to the surviving girl. We are told that he came immediately and probably well in opposition to his own convenience when first he heard of the tragedy, and his treatment of Enid is gentle without being patronizing. Unsettled by the Rylott household and clearly wishing he could do more, he also repeatedly urges Enid to contact him if she has any suspicion of danger. All of this prompts Enid to declare: “Your kindness has been the one gleam of light in these dark days.” It is a lovely description of the man who has been a light in the dark for at least one other—the sort of testament we would have been unlikely to hear of if this story were reported through Watson’s own narration.

Again, I’ll leave the majority of his interactions with Holmes for the next section, but it is worth mentioning that there is no objection from him when Holmes turns down an easy 500 pounds. Watson is intelligent and he is good—he saw the signs of abuse and he would not have his friend benefit on those terms. These scenes also provide a wonderful dose of protective Watson. And while Holmes is of course at the head of the investigation, he and Watson are wonderfully in sync, and Watson proves his worth.

When it comes down to it, the Holmes and Watson in this play are transparently the two deeply compatible men we seek to dig out of cannon: mutually sharp and compassionate, courageous and quick to protect, with Holmes giving Watson stimulation and purpose and the means to aid others, and Watson providing Holmes with a firm right hand and a ready ear and a steadiness that counteracts the extremities that drive Holmes to cocaine. Watson and Holmes as Doyle portrayed them—as no other adaptation would portray them for far too many years—are just kinda perfect for each other.

But Watson is engaged.

So … What About Johnlock?

*buries head in hands* *giggles* *sobs* … Yeah. Yeah, it’s here. Yeah.

I really wasn’t sure what to expect from this play. I thought that perhaps the stage would strike Doyle as too exposed and vulnerable, or that perhaps he wouldn’t trust the actors, or that he would feel unsafe without the veneer of Watson’s narration—that, one way or another, he’d be persuaded to leave the gay subtext out of this one. But, um, Doyle? Buddy? Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely chuffed that you managed to avoid allegations a la Oscar Wilde. But also … how?

Honestly, I’ve always wondered whether Doyle was aware that he was writing a love story or whether that’s what wound up on paper regardless of his intent. This play just might be my answer.

a.) Sherlock Holmes: The Work as a disguise

The most blaring subtext is concentrated in Act II Scene II, where Holmes first enters the stage and his primary interactions with Watson occur. This play takes place during one of the dark times when Watson isn’t living at Baker Street, and when he visits Holmes to present him with Enid’s case, Holmes comes out disguised as a workman. (Before this Watson comments with dismay on the evidence of Holmes’s continued cocaine habits—this will be significant later). The disguised Holmes pokes fun at Watson, who doesn’t recognize him, accusing him of being responsible for Holmes’s untidy habits. There may be a rather tragic subtextual undertone to the whole conversation, but there’s too much else to discuss. So I’ll leave that aside and instead highlight the exchange that occurs when Holmes drops his disguise:

WATSON: Good Heavens Holmes! I should never have recognized you. HOLMES: My dear Watson, when you begin to recognize me it will indeed be the beginning of the end. When your eagle eye penetrates my disguise I shall retire to an eligible poultry farm.

Now, this could be innocent enough—just a fun way to introduce the clever detective. But if one is at all alert to the mere possibility of subtext, alarum bells should be ringing full force at the fact that the first on-stage interaction between these two characters consists of Holme demonstrating his ability to hide his true identity from Watson, and then saying that if he was unable to deceive Watson it would literally be the end of his life as he knows it. And it’s worth taking note of his phrasing: not “when you begin to recognize my disguises,” but rather “when you begin to recognize me.” Is this just a matter of professional pride, or is there something deeper that Holmes is afraid of having discovered?

But you know, maybe I’m just reading into this. This is a story about preventing Enid’s murder, its got nothing to do with romance or love, that would be thematically inconsistent and out of place—

HOLMES: Well, Watson, what is your news? WATSON: Well, Holmes, I came here to tell you what I’m sure will please you. HOLMES: Engaged, Watson, engaged! … The successful suitor shines from you all over.

Oh. Okay then.

Now, it is important to understand that Watson’s marriage has literally nothing to do with the Rylott plot. The engagement in no way affects Watson’s movements, and Mary never appears on stage. No; the first half of this scene is devoted entirely to introducing us to Holmes—the few clients he sees in this section are clearly selected to give us a sense of his character, methods, and values. That means that for some reason Doyle thought that a proper understanding of Holmes requires a discussion of love and marriage—specifically, Watson’s marriage.

Watson, being an imbecile as well as an intelligent man, thinks Holmes will be pleased with his news. Holmes rises to the occasion as best he can, calling the news “better and better” when he discovers Mary Morstan is the woman Watson has chosen, but not before he lets slip the sentence: “What I had heard of you, or perhaps what I had not heard of you, had already excited my worst suspicions.” Worst suspicions, Holmes? I thought this was supposed to be giving you pleasure? Well, perhaps he’s merely being facetious.

But next moment he slips again, saying, “You lucky fellow! I envy you.” When Watson suggests that Holmes might find a woman of his own one day, Holmes cryptically replies: “No marriage without love, Watson.” This might have been the first line that really floored me—the bare fact of Holmes’s conviction that he will never love a woman (‘woman,’ of course, being implied in the concept of marriage at the time). But when Watson asks why, Holmes falls back on the “[love] would disturb my reason” nonsense.

Now to be clear, I understand that Holmes is specifically discussing romantic love here, and that there is no connection between a lack of romantic attachment and a lack of sentiment and care for others generally. But here’s the thing: Holmes’s self descriptor doesn’t depict him as aromantic—i.e., ‘I just don’t feel romantic stuff.’ It depicts him as a reasoning machine—‘strong emotions disrupt my process.’ And in context of literally every friggin thing he does in this entire play, that’s nonsense. It is abundantly clear that reason is his tool, but compassion and sentiment are his motives.

One might argue that this is slightly sloppy writing (it was composed in a hurry, after all), or that Holmes simply doesn’t have the words to describe his aromanticism. Yet just moments before he said he envied Watson’s relationship, and moments before that revealed himself to be a consummate actor whose very existence as he knows it depends on disguise …

The already unwieldy length of this analysis requires that I speed a bit through the goldmine that follows: through Holmes punting aside requests from a royal family and the actual Pope because Watson has a case in which he has a personal interest—and I can’t resist pointing out that Holmes says he will of course take the case if Watson has “any personal interest in it.” It’s not ‘I’ll make time in my busy schedule if this is really very important to you,’ it’s ‘oh, you have a thing that you at least kinda sorta care about? The Pope can wait.’ I must gloss over Holmes transparently wanting to get as much of Watson’s company as he can, declaring that he has always seen Watson as his partner, and wishing for a plaque with his and Watson’s names on it, despite heavy implications that Watson has been almost entirely absent from Holmes’s work for some time. I’ll just mention in passing the truly remarkable number of “my dear fellows” and “my dear Watsons" Holmes manages to drop in a brief space of time, his clear desire to protect Watson from the dangers of the case despite later informing Enid that he is “a useful companion on such an occasion,” and his cry of “No, Watson, no!” when his friend leaps up to protect him from the poker Rylott is threatening him with.

I will not, however, pass over what occurs when Watson leaves Holmes, intending to meet him at the train station later that day. Watson’s final words on his way out are: “Good bye—I’ll see you at the station,” to which Holmes replies, “Perhaps you will,” adding to himself: “Perhaps you will! Perhaps you won’t!” Ah, what’s that? On about disguising yourself from your best friend again, eh Holmes? But then, within the play this refers to the fact that Holmes intends to actually disguise himself at the train station, so it has a literal meaning and not a metaphorical one, it has nothing to do with a deeper hiddeness, certainly nothing to do with love—

HOLMES: Ever been in love Billy? BILLY: Not of late years, sir. HOLMES: Too busy, eh? BILLY: Yes, Mr. Holmes. HOLMES: Same here. Got my bag there, Billy? BILLY: Yes, sir. HOLMES: Put in that revolver. BILLY: Yes, sir. HOLMES: And the pipe and pouch. BILLY: Yes, sir. HOLMES: The lens and the tape? BILLY: Yes, sir. HOLMES: Plaster of Paris, for prints? BILLY: Yes, sir. HOLMES: Oh, and the cocaine.

Oh … oh. Shit.

Please understand that this exchange—consisting of Holmes again raising the topic of love immediately after returning to the subject of his disguise, both of which he addresses as soon as Watson has left, as if he could not discuss them in front of his friend—comes apropos of nothing except Watson’s announcement of his engagement far back at the beginning of the scene. And I don’t see how the way he raises the subject and dismisses it can be seen as anything but the covering of some deep emotion—there is longing in the way he immediately brings it up, showing that it has stuck in his mind the whole while, and something tragic in the way he next-moment dismisses the clear preoccupation with the claim of being ‘too busy,’ clearly echoing the ‘I envy you … love is not for me’ progression of his earlier exchange with Watson.

And I get that in theory this longing for but dismissal of love could be read in a number of ways besides a socially forbidden love for his recently engaged partner. One might argue, for example, that he is aromantic but lonely and longing for the consistency of attachment others find in romantic love, or that he’s bursting with all sorts of hetero affections that he has chosen to sacrifice for the sake of The Work.

I would simply ask any inclined towards those arguments to consider the framing of this scene. I would ask them to question why ACD chose to introduce and conclude the scene which functions as an introduction to Holmes with the detective’s ability and need to disguise himself from Watson specifically, immediately juxtaposed with discussions of romantic love and Holmes’s desire for it which is clearly present but immediately veiled—disguised?—by his commitment to the work, with the cocaine hovering ominously behind. Then consider that between these mirrored book-ends we watch Holmes allow the man from whom he must disguise himself to disrupt the flow of the work which he claimed was supreme, making clear his wish that Watson be drawn into that work—a desire counteracted only by the transparent fact that he would prefer to risk his own bodily injury rather than put his friend in harm’s way. Add to all of this that Doyle works in a mention of the Milverton case and thus allows Holmes to comment on how his ruse to undermine Milverton involves courting and being courted by a woman and how distasteful he finds the experience and—well, you much reach your own conclusions. I have reached mine.

b.) Watson: Substitutionary desire

I began by speaking of Holmes because the subtext is monumentally more apparent on his part, and unlike Holmes it would be easy and even (though I cringe to say it) reasonable to read Watson as a comfortable heterosexual in this play. Does this mean that Doyle wrote one of those dreadful adaptations in which Holmes is pining away with an unrequited love for a Watson who is incapable of returning his romantic affections?

Not necessarily. As far as I can tell, without the clear implication of Sherlock’s affections one would be on shaky ground arguing that Watson was intended as anything besides a Hetero Bro. However, the clear coding of Holmes as in love with Watson causes one to wonder whether the affection might not be returned, and the results of investigation are inconclusive but intriguing.

Although he doesn’t make an appearance until the second act, Holme is mentioned by Watson in the first scene. Assuring Enid that she can turn to him if she is in any need, he admits that there is little he can do on his own. But he then adds: “I have a singular friend—a man with strange powers and a very masterful personality. We used to live together, and I came to know him well. Holmes is his name—Mr. Sherlock Holmes. It is to him I should turn if things looked black for you. If any man in England could help it is he.”

To be fair, it is not unusual in stories for someone to describe the hero in grandiose terms before he is seen directly by the reader/audience. Still, that’s quite a way to describe one’s friend. I find myself particularly fixating on “strange powers and a very masterful personality.” You do realize that you could have just said he’s smart, right Watson? I mean, maybe things were different back then, but if I described my friend as having a ‘masterful personality’ and then tried to claim they were my platonic bestie, I’m pretty sure I’d get my fair share of dubious glances.

Watson mentions his friend once more when his application of Holmes’s methods to clear up a detail of the investigation prompts an impressed exclamation from the coroner, to which Watson responds: “I have a friend, sir, who trained me in such matters.”

So at the very least, we have a Watson who idolizes, respects, relies on, and emulates his friend—all of which makes the fact that he is no longer living with Holmes something of a puzzle.

You see, the play never gives us a reason for Watson having moved out. The comment to Enid in which he mentions that they “used to live together” occurs two years before Sherlock becomes involved with the case and Watson becomes engaged to Mary, so it clearly has nothing to do with her. Yet not only has he moved out, his involvement in the cases is implied to have dwindled significantly or even stopped altogether—in one of the saddest lines of the play, Holmes comments that of course Watson wouldn’t remember Milverton because: “it was after your time.”

But why these degrees of separation? At no point are there signs of any ill-will between the friends. The danger certainly wasn’t an issue for Watson: when Rylott threatens Holmes Watson literally “jumps” to protect him, and he insists on sharing the danger of the Rylott house. Nor does it seem viable to speculate that Baker Street’s location became inconvenient for Watson—the speed with which Rylott makes his way to Watson’s home and from there to Baker Street demonstrates that they still live quite close. One might more plausibly theorize that Watson was becoming more invested in his medical practice and involvement in Holmes’s work was interfering, but why would ACD make an alteration so irrelevant to the story and then not even explain it? After all, the friends were still living together in the short story from which this is adapted. What could be the point of such a change?

Well, the fact is, while their bond is undeniable and remarkably strong, there are hints of something … off between the friends. Despite claiming to see Watson as his equal partner, Holmes fails to communicate with him about how they will be involved in the Rylott case, telling Watson to come on the 11:15pm train but neglecting to mention that he will be going to the house in disguise some hours earlier. The motive behind this omission is unclear—he previously tried to dissuade Watson from joining the case on account of the danger, so perhaps Holmes intends for Watson to give up and stay away when Holmes does’t appear. (Watson, of course, comes anyhow). Or perhaps Holmes wished to be apart from Watson for a time in the wake of hearing of his engagement (Holmes calling for the cocaine comes unsettlingly to mind here) but knew Watson wouldn’t allow him to go to Rylott’s alone. But whatever Holmes’s motive, Watson knows only that he has been excluded and cut out. Similarly, if in the past he has sensed that Holmes was on some level disguising himself from him would he would not have been likely to imagine a flattering cause. One cannot help but wonder whether it is these exclusions that cause Watson, despite inserting himself determinately when Holmes’s safety is at stake, to feel that he must offer to remove himself from the room when Holmes calls in clients. Certainly Watson has no inkling that Holmes might be in love with him—no kind friend who suspected as much would introduce his engagement by saying: “I came here to tell you what I am sure will please you.”

This then, is what we have: two men who deeply admire each other, long for one another’s company, and would clearly die for one another, and yet one of them is hiding and the other running first from the house and then into marriage. We have good reason to believe the one is hiding because he fears revealing his love; is it unreasonable to suppose the other is running for the same reason? Is it strange to think that Watson, feeling unable to trust to his powers of disguise in the way Holmes can, feeling the continual sting of Holmes hiding from him and cutting him off and unable to interpret those actions as anything besides distrust or indifference, would have sought safety in distance and ultimately comfort in binding himself to another?

A final note: we know nothing about Mary in this play. Despite having come in part to announce his engagement, Watson has no rhapsodies to offer on behalf of his fiancee—he seems far more interested in Holmes’s propensity for love, and, failing that, in Holmes’s work. Although Holmes’s (admittedly not impartial) deductions imply that Watson is genuinely pleased with his engagement, we learn precisely two details about Mary, both from Holmes: first that she has red hair, and second that Watson chose a woman who Holmes “met and admired.” Despite their seemingly limited contact over the past two years, Watson still seems unable to be married without at least some reference to Sherlock Holmes.

c.) Sorry … have some petty ACD as recompense

I feel I owe you an apology. I am aware that if you had the patience to read my ridiculously long ramble and are convinced by my interpretation of the Holmes and Watson’s relationship in the play, your ‘reward’ is having a dark but ultimately triumphant detective story transformed into a fucking tragedy that ends with two broken hearts. All I can offer is the comfort of knowing that for 130 years neither marriage nor death nor the near erasure of Watson from the first forty years of stage and film adaptations have been able to keep these two apart. They will find their way back to one another.

Oh, and you also might enjoy hearing that this play is totally ACD’s revenge on heteronormativity.

Okay, I can’t prove that. But it really looks like it. You may be aware of the 1988 play Sherlock Holmes, written by Doyle and William Gillette. If you’re like me a week ago, you may not know that Doyle wrote the original script himself, and Gillette became involved only when Doyle’s script was rejected and the producer urged him to bring Gillette on to rewrite it. I like to imagine that the rejection letter went something like: “Look, buddy, you can’t have Holmes staring forlornly after Watson while instigating a wistful conversation about love with Billy. You just can’t,” but realistically we don’t know why the first draft was rejected. But we do know that Doyle specifically requested that Gillette not give Holmes a (female) love interest, and that Gillette sent Holmes off into the sunset with a woman anyway (x).

Then, eleven years later with a failing theater on his hands, Doyle locks himself away in a room and says, “Fuck it. Imma write a Holmes play, and when I introduce him the first thing everyone is going to know is that he’ll never marry a woman, and the last thing the introduction will tell them is that he’ll never marry a woman and—you know what, I’ll take that Milverton story where Holmes groans about needing to date a woman and throw that in the middle.” And that’s true of the play even if you don’t buy the queer reading. But also, its super gay.

And frankly I just love that not only did Doyle refuse to give in to society’s attempt to fit his story into their heteronormative mold, it actually worked and Doyle made up all the money he was poised to lose and more by shoving a gay love story into his audience’s face.

Well done, ACD, well done.

Conclusion: Should You Read It?

I mean, I think my answer is fairly obvious by now. If you’re interested and have the time, it is 100% worth it. And I hope it doesn’t feel like I’ve spoiled all the good parts. There are reams of gems I didn’t even allude to—and that’s not counting everything I doubtless missed.

I just have one request: if you do read the play and end up posting about it on tumblr, would you tag me in your comments? Hearing someone else’s thoughts on this hidden treasure would be a delight.

@thespiritualmultinerd @a-candle-for-sherlock @missallainyus @steadymentalityengineer @iant0jones @devoursjohnlock @disregardedletters

#ACD cannon #Holmes adaptations #the adventure of the speckled band #the speckled band play #Arthur conan doyle #stage adaptation #johnlock #meta #sherlock holmes #John watson

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goodqueenaly · 7 years

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Do you think we are meant to see Dornish culture as uniquely violent, vengeful, bloodthirsty and full of treachery compared to the rest of Westeros? How much of this can be attributed to the bias and racism of other Westerosi characters when they talk about Dorne, and how much is about George RR Martin's own vision of Dornish culture and the culture of POC in general?

Let me start by saying that I am in no way qualified to talk about “George RR Martin’s own vision of Dornish culture and the culture of POC in general”. There are many meta writers who have critiqued and commented on the presentation of POC characters in ASOIAF, and far better than I have or can. I can say as a general matter that there are elements to the Dornish narrative, more in description than in actual plot points, which smack uncomfortably of exoticism on the part of the author (the way the author describes Arianne for the first time - from the literal snake around her arm to her “round ripe breasts with their huge dark nipples” and “lush curves at waist and hip” to the comparison of Arys’ dry throat to the “Dornish sands” - stands out as a particularly egregious example).

However, I strongly disagree with the assessment that we, the audience, are meant to see Dornish culture as “uniquely violent, vengeful, bloodthirsty and full of treachery”. The Dornish - or, perhaps more accurately, those Dornish who desire war and bloodshed, like the Sand Snakes - are no more violent than the Boltons; no more vengeful than Wyman Manderly; no more full of treachery than the Freys. Indeed, one of the really strong elements of the Dornish narrative is that there isn’t a single mindset within this somewhat smaller setting; there are many facets to the Dornish outlook explored in the POVs of Areo, Arianne, and Quentyn.

Instead, what I think the author intended with the Dornish narrative is to explore the price these characters are willing to pay for what they term justice. Doran is the fulcrum of this question: for all he desires vengeance for the murders of Elia and her children - and it’s absolutely true that he does - Doran also does not want to kill innocents. On one side of him are his brother’s daughters: they want vengeance for Oberyn and the cause he himself died for, but they also speak openly of killing those who had no part in Elia’s death - including killing Tommen, only a child. On the other side is Ellaria Sand, as much a Dornishwoman as her de facto stepdaughters:

“Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?” Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain’s head. “I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?”

And for all the Sand Snakes are the embodiment of violent vengeance, Doran’s own children are definitely not cut from the same cloth. Arianne does think about justice for Oberyn and Elia, and she will probably throw Dorne headfirst into war by siding with Young Aegon, but it would be a mistake to think of Arianne as a violent person; indeed, she’s clearly very troubled by the harm she allowed to come to innocent Myrcella in her abortive queenmaking plot. And Quentyn - well, Quentyn is about the least violent, least vengeful, least bloodthirsty of anyone introduced in the Dornish storyline. Quentyn doesn’t relish in the bloodshed of the Windblown, he’s haunted and horrified by it. “Fire and blood” isn’t his rallying cry of vengeance, it’s a painful whisper coming on the heels of “Father, why?” as Quentyn heads to his death.

So, while I do see one of the main themes of the Dornish narrative being the pursuit of vengeance, I don’t see that the author was trying to paint a single image of “all Dornish are like this”, violent, vengeful, and treacherous. Violence is an option for some, but for others, violence is the most abhorrent of choices. It comes back to the question of who pays - who pays for the vengeance chosen by another, and when does that vengeance not become worth the payment.

#asoiaf meta #dorne #house martell #vengeance

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CONTESSA: ONE YEAR OF WOMEN EMPOWERMENT

In the United Kingdom, it will air on Weeknights at 8:30 PM before Family Guy. The UK Version will be dubbed in English by British actors. It will also adopt the GMA version for their title card. If aired on CBS, It will air on Weeknights at 9:00 PM.

March is Women's Month but on GMA Network, Something is coming to empower to your screens

Following the successful year-long run of ‘Ika-6 na Utos’, GMA looked to fill in the big shoes that the former left. They decided to replace ‘Ika-6 na Utos’ with a series that reminded viewers of another successful teleserye from a rival network.

From the moment ‘Contessa”s teaser was aired, netizens immediately compared the series to ABS-CBN’s ‘Wildflower’ due to their similar storylines of revenge. But ‘Contessa’ lead star Glaiza de Castro (from Ikaw Lang Ang Mamahalin, Berks, Spirits, Amaya, Temptation of Wife, The Rich Man's Daughter, Encantadia 2016, Mulawin vs. Ravena) had a different take, saying that her upcoming show focuses more on a woman’s constant quest for justice. In ‘Contessa’, Glaiza is initially known as Bea, a woman who is accused and imprisoned for a crime she never committed. Determined to seek revenge and reclaim those who were taken away from her, she assumes a new identity, that of Contessa.

Throughout the series, ‘Contessa’ will feature some important characters who will be crucial to the story of Bea/Contessa. Marco (Mark Herras, from Click, Love to Love, original Encantadia, I Luv NY, Party Pilipinas, Time of my Life, Hiram na Puso, Sunday All Stars, Rhodora X, Pari'Koy, Little Nanay, Wish I May, Sa Piling ni Nanay) is a writer and Bea’s long-time boyfriend whose gruesome murder will be central to the evolution of Bea into Contessa. Marco’s brother Gabriel (Geoff Eigenmann, from Ang TV, Kiara, Ano ang Hukay ng Pag-Ibig, Kahit Kailan, Love to Love, Hiram, Ikaw ang Lahat sa Akin, Rounin, Lobo, SOP Rules, Rosalinda, Party Pilipinas, Show Me Da Manny, Grazilda, Dangwa, La Luna Sangre) is a successful OFW who returns to the country following his murder. Meanwhile, Bea’s best friend Jong (Jak Roberto, from The Half Sisters, Pari'Koy, A1 Ko Sa'Yo, Meant to Be) is a secret admirer of hers who hopes to love him back.

The Imperial family, led by the matriarch Charito (Chanda Romero, from original Villa Quintana, Vietnam Rose, Kidlat, My Husband's Lover, Ismol Family, Pari 'Koy, The Half Sisters, Once Again, Legally Blind) and her children Vito (Gabby Eigenmann, from Palibhasa Lalake, Love to Love, Sugo, I Luv NY, Marimar, Darna, All About Eve, Mundo Mo'y Akin, Pari 'Koy, InstaDad, Sa Piling ni Nanay, My Love from the Star) and Daniella (Lauren Young, from Lobo, Dahil May Isang Ikaw, Tanging Yaman, Midnight DJ, Mula Sa Puso 2011, Oka2Kat, Mundo Mo'y Akin, Dormitoryo, Genesis, Hiram na Alaala, MariMar, Poor Señorita, Legally Blind), will serve as a major obstacle to Bea/Contessa’s plans for justice. In typical villainous fashion, the Imperials are considered manipulative, influential, sophisticated and powerful individuals who will do whatever is necessary to destroy the protagonist.

Completing the rest of the cast are Tetchie Agbayani (from Basta't Kasama Kita, Got to Believe, Flordeliza, Dolce Amore, The Greatest Love), Leandro Baldemor (from Encantadia 2016), Dominic Roco (from Qpids, Super Inggo, Zorro, Darna, Grazilda, Indio, Destined to be Yours), Bernadette Allyson, Melissa Mendez (from Esperanza, Anna Luna, P.S. I Love You, original Pangako Sa'Yo, Indio), Tanya Gomez (from Kokey, Oka2Kat, Alyas Robin Hood), Karel Marquez (from Magandang Tanghali Bayan, Berks, Pidol's Wonderland, My Husband's Lover, Rhodora X, La Luna Sangre), Phytos Ramirez (from the both versions of Encantadia, Gulong ng Palad, Mara Clara, Mula Sa Puso 2011, Oh, My Mama!, Alyas Robin Hood), Denise Barbacena (from Little Nanay, A1 Ko Sa'Yo, Legally Blind, Bubble Gang) and Will Ashley (from Villa Quintana 2013, Alyas Robin Hood, Destined to be Yours). ‘Contessa’ was directed by Albert Langitan who came from his previous work Impostora 2017.

Replacing a top-rating series in ‘Ika-6 na Utos’ will be a daunting one for ‘Contessa’. In order for viewers to commit to this new series in the long term, some interesting bits and pieces are needed to make ‘Contessa’ worth watching, a task that is difficult to fill considering it will go head-to-head with ‘It’s Showtime”s ‘Tawag ng Tanghalan’ segment and "Ipaglaban Mo".

With all things considered, GMA should only hope for the best with ‘Contessa’. It may never be able to replicate the ratings of ‘Ika-6 na Utos’, but if it all goes well, who knows what will happen next.

Through its first nine episodes, GMA’s ‘Contessa’ was only able to average 10% in the ratings according to Kantar. In contrast, ABS-CBN’s ‘It’s Showtime’ raked in around 17%, and while its numbers declined by around 2% during the Holy Week, it was still enough to dispatch ‘Contessa’.

Even the first Saturday episode of ‘Contessa’ on March 24 was a flop, as it earned only 9.9% compared to ‘It’s Showtime”s 17.4%. By comparison, the finale of ‘Ika-6 na Utos’ which aired the previous Saturday finished with a 20.6% rating, 10.7% better than its successor.

The slow start of ‘Contessa’ should cause plenty of concern within GMA Network. Following up a successful afternoon drama in ‘Ika-6 na Utos’ was no easy task, but no one expected ‘Contessa’ to fall way below expectations. However on the AGB Nielsen, Contessa registered high ratings compared to It's Showtime and Ipaglaban Mo, both from ABS-CBN.

In the days leading up to its premiere there were some doubts on whether or not ‘Contessa’ will have a Saturday episode. Initially, GMA considered having ‘Contessa’ air only from Monday to Friday, but when the network realized that they lack suitable replacements for the 2:30 p.m. slot, they reluctantly added a Saturday episode on ‘Contessa’.

In doing so GMA gave ‘Contessa’ enormously high expectations to succeed. Unfortunately, ‘Contessa’ didn’t come close to sustaining ‘Ika-6 na Utos” high viewership, and it also didn’t help that its first foray into Saturdays failed to produce the desired result. Perhaps it is those bandwagon viewers that only showed up during ‘Ika-6 na Utos’ and then switched to ‘It’s Showtime’ and other programs once it ended. Or perhaps GMA dramas have had a history of starting slow and then occasionally picking up ratings midway through. Whatever the reason, it was clear that ‘Contessa’ underachieved from the get-go. Adding a Saturday episode was a huge mistake and the possibility of viewer burnout became more apparent. But as far as GMA is concerned, ‘Contessa’ has had only one Saturday episode so far (there was no episode during Black Saturday) so it is too early to tell. Still, it remains to be seen whether or not succeeding episodes will increase viewership and give ‘Contessa’ some much-needed respectability. The series concluded on September 8, 2018 after 147 Episodes the was replaced by "Ika-5 Utos" then "Asawa Ko, Karibal Ko" on October of that year after Ika-5 Utos took over the 3:25 PM timeslot from "The Stepdaughters". The theme song of the series was "Dito Sa Aking Mundo" by Glaiza de Castro. That song was originally sung by Richard Reynoso.

Aftermath Glaiza de Castro, who played a double role as Bea and Contessa would appear in Victor Magtanggol as Pirena reuniting with fellow Encantadia casts, Kylie Padilla, Sanya Lopez and Gabbi Garcia before resuming her music career.

Chanda Romero would later appear in a Telebabad series "Cain At Abel" together with Leandro Baldemor two months later. However, the show would be replaced by Roberto's next series "Kara Mia".

Lauren Young would appear in a late morning series "Hiram na Anak". Gabby Eigenmann would appear in another Afternoon Prime series "Inagaw na Bituin" alongside Patricia Tumulak.

Jak Roberto would appear with his girlfriend Barbie Forteza in a Telebabad series "Kara Mia" which replaced Romero's and Baldemor's last show "Cain at Abel".

International Broadcasts In Kazakhstan, The series premiered on January 15, 2019 as "Kohtecca" on Channel 7 Kazakhstan. The series was dubbed in Kazakh instead of Tagalog. But it wasn't aired in Latin America similar to Legalmente Ciega (Legally Blind).

However, If Contessa brings to the United States, It will air on either Networks: ABC, CBS, Fox and NBC. This series will be dubbed in full English by American actors. The title card will adopt the GMA Version.

If aired on ABC, It wil air on Weekdays 10:30 - 11:00 AM before The View on ABC Daytime

If aired on CBS, It will air on Wednesdays at 9:00 PM.

If aired on Fox, It will air on Weeknights at 11:00 PM

If aired on NBC, It will air on Weeknights at 9:00 PM

In the United Kingdom, it will air on Weeknights at 8:30 PM before Family Guy. The UK Version will be dubbed in English by British actors. It will also adopt the GMA version for their title card.

In Australia, it will air on Mondays to Sundays at 8:30 PM on 10 Bold. This version will be dubbed in English by Australian actors. It will also adopt the GMA version for their title card.

(DISCLAIMER: This post is for factual basis and is to be veirified at the soonest possible time by some sources. Don’t be assured yet, but it is just for the contributor’s point of view.)

(NOTE: The contributor of this post is Carl Veluz, a good friend of the EIC/Publisher of KRD.)

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