#this man was full of flaws but i loved him dearly

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea Episode 9: Lost at Sea before the Finale

Sigh. I had high hopes for this episode, which reached it's apex in the main conflict with Rak's dad (our honorary big bad). But yet again it's at a crucial juncture in the story, where writing and execution have fallen short when it really mattered.

Despite building tension for the past few weeks in service of this moment, it's swiftly deflated with little fuss. I thought the contract-tearing scene would provide a riveting layer of complexity for our characters to navigate. But it's barely a hiccup. The entire pay off we've been hurtling towards just unceremoniously fizzles out.

Here are my observations as to why this episode missed the mark (some of which I hope to dig into when I do a full review of the series).

The 'saviour' plot device. Where a character repeatedly saves the day in service of other characters (regardless of their credentials to do so). This is the role they've boxed Mut in. He swoops in - solves, fixes, pursues, soothes. He's faultless. He's unwavering. He's Rak's hero in shining armour. This isn't fundamentally bad except his capacity is reduced mainly to just that, and the cost is little to no development of his own. I take enormous issue with this because I dearly love Mut. He has great scope for a far more compelling trajectory. We had wonderful insights into his outlook on life in the earlier episodes, which have since taken a noticeable backseat. We are yet to see significant exploration of Mut's struggles, flaws or weaknesses. There appears to be some focus on this in episode 10, but why so little so late?

The women are rendered superfluous. Which isn't helped when we already have a lacklustre GL portrayal. As things go awry - Kwan, Vi and Mook are varying degrees of 'just there'. I would have loved to see the plot utilise the women who know Rak best, to contribute towards bringing Jak down. But the show's priority to aid Mut's heroic efforts, means the women are left with very little to do.

Mut VS Jak. If you compare the two men, Jak is taller and in fairly good shape. Physically, you'd expect more resistance in a fight. When Jak goes down, he barely tries to get up (even when Mut's back is turned). Thus, the outcome of the fight feels unearned, especially if we are to believe this man has violent tendencies that have traumatised his children. (He may not be murderously insane, but still volatile enough to maim his own son). By being so easily overpowered, the takeaway ends up being: 'oh, we needn't have worried'. And this exchange didn't have to be strictly physical either, it could have been psychological. Jak could have taunted Mut like he did in the café, and tried to chip at his resolve. Alternatively, if Rak were the one to overcome his father (in a bid to save Mut), it would show that Rak's love can power through his fear, and he'd gain that lesson through his own agency rather than Mut telling him he should no longer be afraid. (Another symptom of this series is subjugating Rak to a huge degree of passivity).

I'm not sold on Jak's character motivations, based on what we've seen. He's not quite smart or menacing enough to be a calculated sociopath, and he's a shade too conniving for an apathetic loser. If he's as lazy as we've been told, why would he go this far to secure Prin's money, when he's already syphoning finances from Rak and his mother? Couldn't he just sit back and continue to leech with no effort? If his desperation were a result of poor spending, it would at least ground his motive. Or if he's fuelled by the thrill of tormenting his family, we'd need to see mental depravity. Instead, much of Jak's actions feel - dare I say - 'because plot'? (Make your villains more formidable and their eventual downfall will pack more punch).

The few too many plot conveniences. The sillier one being how on earth Rak left the house without anyone noticing? The enormous glass staircase which sits front and centre in an open plan property makes it near impossible to go undetected. Unless he parkoured from his bedroom?

I'm gutted because the show veers towards the more questionable choices at their disposal. The set ups are there. The ideas are there. The parameters are there. It's what they decide to do with them that sadly misfires. This has caused my investment in the story to plummet towards the latter half.

I continue to watch for Fortpeat, and I feel for them because they've worked so hard. There's some lovely acting sprinkled throughout this episode but at this late stage in the series, the plot should be driving things home. Whereas the metaphorical tide keeps moving those goal posts in and out of sight. I hope they can at least round things off on a high note next week.

[spaceyaceface]

What We Are Now

Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader (Unspecified Hogwarts House/Post Hogwarts)

Word Count: 3.2k

Content Warnings: Feelings of guilt, remorse, some angst

Summary:

His hand trembled as it rested on the boat’s wall as he overlooked the sea. If he thought about it, he could still feel her fingers tracing over his knuckles—he could pretend the breeze was her fingers, brushing his hair to the side.

He could imagine the salt in the air was the taste of her tears, the taste of the one kiss they had shared.

or

Sebastian Sallow went to America for a year in hopes to find a cure for Anne. As he returns home, he faces the possibility of seeing the girl he loves again.

Part two to What Could Have Been, but could be read alone if you really want.

Also available on AO3

"Every masterpiece I'd write again, You'll always be my porcelain. I crossed my heart but I stuttered too, So truth or dare, was I good to you? And I had enough of you all to myself— Still right beside you in sickness and health. Forever after you will be my home. And there's no place like home." - from "Dearly Departed" by Marianas Trench

Sebastian Sallow was a man of many regrets. 

He was sure he had more than he should for his age—his short eighteen years had been full of mistakes, ones he could never take back. He couldn’t bring back his uncle. He couldn’t take away the grief he had caused his sister and best friend. He couldn’t tell a girl he loved her, even when it was the one thing he’d ever been sure about. 

These things kept him awake at night, haunting his dreams whenever he closed his eyes. He would awake in bursts of green light, shouts of incendio, the ghost of lips tracing over his own…

He’d thought distance would help. But in leaving everything behind, the shapes in his dreams became crueller, more menacing. The stone walls of Hogwarts had lost their warmth, the fields of Feldcroft had lost any sense of home. Day by day, for over a year, he’d lost a little more of the good he’d left behind, only able to feel the pain. 

His hand trembled as it rested on the boat’s wall as he overlooked the sea. If he thought about it, he could still feel her fingers tracing over his knuckles—he could pretend the breeze was her fingers, brushing his hair to the side. 

He could imagine the salt in the air was the taste of her tears, the taste of the one kiss they had shared. 

That kiss. Why had he done it? He had thought it would place a lid on those feelings. He would be able to walk away, having put it all on the table, saying there, at least I did it. But all it did was leaving him aching for more.

Because she had kissed back. Her lips had moved in time with his, he had felt her wanting, her longing. He had never doubted her feelings for him, but to have them confirmed—well, that was an emotion he’d never be able to prepare himself for. 

For a long time, he had convinced himself neither of them acted on those feelings because of faults and his flaws. How could she admit to loving a man such as him? How could she admit to loving a monster? 

But she had kissed back. 

Another one of his stupid regrets came to mind. He’d promised to write her. Of course he hadn’t. He’d always been stellar at breaking promises, what was one more? She hadn’t written him in the year that had passed, either. It was better that way, he’d tell himself, when his hand ached to pour out his grief through a quill, when his soul longed to put his shame into ink. So he hadn’t written. 

Would he now? he thought, as the distant land on the horizon drew nearer. It was strange being on this side of the ocean again. His time in America had changed him—for the better, he hoped. The healer he had helped had taught him more than he could have imagined. He was a good man, sympathetic to his situation (though Sebastian had never told him the full story; he likely would not have been quite as welcoming if he had). It was him who taught him more about the curse Anne bore, him who had tried to convince him that there truly wasn’t a cure—not on a curse that ran so deep. But there were spells, potions, and herbs that could ease Anne’s pain. They could make her life not only livable, but joyful. 

He’d told the man that that would be enough. He’d return home, having all his new knowledge, and share it with his sister. But in truth, he was still sure there was something out there; there had to be. He just had to keep looking.

But first, he’d return home to Anne, telling her of what he learned. 

Home. Was that what it truly was? He hadn’t felt like the house in Feldcroft had been a home to him in years, if ever. Anne had moved back there after he left for America. And in a letter that he had read over and over until the ink had nearly faded, she’d agreed to see him. He could still hardly believe it—it would be the first time seeing her since Uncle Soloman’s death. He was afraid of the memories it would revive. She’d agreed to see him, to let him teach her what he’d learned, but then what? What would she say to him? Could she stand to see him for more than a few moments?

His mind wandered. Feldcroft was terribly close to Hogsmeade. And there, he was sure she still was. 

Part of him longed to see her again—ached for it, really. He felt as if he was drowning, and she was the air he was looking for. But it would be better to leave it in the past. He’d already lost it—lost her—what would be the point in torturing himself further?

These thoughts carried himself off the boat and onto the shore, through the cities and streets, and then through the rolling hills of Scotland. It carried right up to the door. And, taking a deep breath, he knocked. 

The door opened, and there she stood. Anne. She looked up at him—she had to look higher than she used to, he had grown—and as if the last three years had never happened, she threw her arms around him, holding him to her. 

A piece of his heart shifted back into place as his arms wrapped around her. Her grip was weaker than when they were children, but it was there, and she clung to him with all the strength in her. 

They stayed like that for several moments. He begged himself not to cry. But as she pulled back and placed a hand on his face, he realized his attempts were pointless. She brushed his tears away. 

“Oh, Sebastian,” she said softly. 

She lead him inside and they sat at the kitchen table. Not much had changed. He could almost hear the shrieks of laughter coming off the wall, the frustrated yells following them… the shouting, the crying. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. 

It was too much, being back there. The weight of his actions swept over him. He had stolen so much. Anne sat beside him, rubbing his back as he cried. “I know,” she whispered. She understood.

“How… how can you stand to stay here?” he said, voice breaking. “After everything…” 

“After everything, I need this place to remind me of the good,” she said. “There was so much good, Sebastian. Don’t forget that.” 

He shook his head as his tears subsided. “How could you ever think of me with anything but hate?” 

She placed her hands on the side of his face, making him look at her. “Sebastian,” she said. “I love you. Even at the worst, I still did. I always will. The things you did will always hurt me.” He closed his eyes, ashamed. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t do our best to move on. That’s why I forgive you, Sebastian.”

His eyes shot open again, looking into hers to find any trace of a lie. There was none. They shone with tears, with sympathy, for him. 

“How?” he croaked, voice raw. 

“Because I know how deeply you regret it.” She gave him a small, sad smile. “You were a foolish boy. But if you can keep overcoming your past, you can become a good man.” 

She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t mean that. But her eyes conveyed nothing but the truth. She believed he could change—that he had changed. And if she believed it, maybe he could. 

“How? How do I move past it?” 

Anne gave a small chuckle, hand reaching up to muss his hair. She used to do that a lot when they were younger. “You keep asking me how is if I alone have all the answers. I can’t tell you I know everything—but I know this. You have to find things to live for. The things that make you happy. That’s how I’ve carried on.”

Sebastian smiled a bit. “Is one of those things Ominis?” 

He noticed her flush, even as she glanced away, trying to hide it. “I won’t deny it.” 

He grinned. “Good. I’m glad he makes you happy.” It was true; while he had only heard of their courting briefly through short letters, it filled him with joy at imagining the happiness between the two of them. At the same time, it filled him with longing. 

Find the things that make you happy, Anne had said. Nothing had ever made him as happy as…

He changed the topic. He started telling Anne all about his adventures in America, the house calls for the various ailments he’d help resolve. He told her all of the tricks he’d learned that would help soothe her pain—he was grateful to see that she was receptive to the ideas, willing to try them. 

He grinned at her. “This will all hold you over,” he said. “Until I find a permanent solution.”

Her smile dropped. “Sebastian,” she starts.

He frowned at her. “What?” 

A weary sigh escaped her lips. “Can’t you see that this is enough? You need to stop looking. Please.”

“Anne,” he said. “You don’t understand, I feel like I’m so close—”

“You’ve said that for years,” she said, taking his hand. “I can accept my life for what it is. It’s time you do the same. I’m grateful for what you have been able to find—but this stops here.” 

He shook his head, opening his mouth to argue, but she interrupted him.

“You have given so much of yourself trying to make things right. You’ve spent all this time living to fulfill what you see as a debt. I am happy, Sebastian. I want you to find your own happiness.” She smiled at him. “I want you to live for you.” 

And the look on her face was so gentle, so genuine, he thought that maybe, she was right.

The small inn in Feldcroft only had one room—and like the inn itself, it was small. He laid on the old, misshapen bed and stared up at the ceiling. An hour ago, his plan was to leave Feldcroft after talking to Anne, and to keep chasing after that damned cure. He’d have gone to someplace far from there—Peru, maybe. Or Uganda. Somewhere he could have kept running. 

Because that was what he had been doing for all this time—that’s what he’d always done. Ran. He ran after casting that unforgivable curse, away from the one person who could comfort him. He ran from his past, leaving Feldcroft and Hogwarts behind him. He ran from that kiss, that bloody kiss that felt like the most right thing in the world. 

He was Sebastian Sallow, a destructive force, a wildfire that set alight any happiness that dared to find him. 

It was time to stop running. 

Find the things that make you happy. 

It was against his every instinct, but he pulled out a scrap of parchment. His message was short, almost illegible. But he sent it, waking his poor owl in his sleep to rush him out the window. It was out of his hands now—he’d taken his chance. 

The rest of the night passed in a slow haze. He wasn’t sure if he slept at all—his head was spinning with memories and wishful thinking. He didn’t know which were dreams and which were his own thoughts. By the time the sun finally filtered in through the curtains, he was already dressed and ready for the day. 

He didn’t get an owl back. He hadn’t really expected to, but the lack of confirmation still made him feel on edge. So, without anything better to do, he went to the Three Broomsticks, and waited. 

It was strange being back there again—it was different than the home in Feldcroft. There, good and bad memories and emotions swirled around each other. Here he only remembered warmth. He recalled the early days, starting in his third year, where Anne, Ominis and he would sit at the table, laughing with one another. Then he through back to the first time he came here with her. Even then, he felt a fierce desire to protect her, especially after the adrenaline of defeating that troll. He sat at the table, getting lost in the memory of her laugh, the weight of her hand as it rested on his shoulder. 

For a moment, he thought he’d lost his mind, because there she was, right in front of him. He stood up from the table—she didn’t disappear. She was still there. She was much the same, from her scarred knuckles to her improper trousers. They’re more convenient, he could almost hear her say, bloody skirts just get in the way. 

“You came,” he said. 

“You asked.” She offered him a small smile. 

Oh, he must have been dreaming. 

She took a step closer to him and he lunged forward, moving the seat so she could sit down. She chuckled at the movement. “It seems time turned you into a gentleman, has it?”

“Only for you,” he teased as he sat across from her. It spilled so naturally from his lips—it always had around her. 

Her eyes rolled. How was it possible to miss the way someone rolled their eyes? “Obviously.” 

Silence settled between them. He glanced down at the table. “I’m sorry I never wrote you.”

“It’s alright,” she replied. “I could’ve written you, too.” She sighed. “But… we can’t change that now, can we? Tell me, old friend, what have you been up to?”

And there he was, telling her everything, spilling stories and secrets as if nothing had changed. She laughed at his more outlandish adventures, and he savored the sound of it. He leaned forward on the table, and she pushed his shoulder as he said something ridiculous. His heart soared. He felt it—happiness. It bubbled up inside of him, nearly spilling over. He let it show on his face as he grinned, listening to the tales she shared in return. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. The sun could have exploded and he wouldn’t have noticed, not when she was the brightest thing in his universe. But after what had to have been hours, they settled on smiling at each other, stomachs sore from laughter. 

“It sounds like America treated you well,” she said. “What brought you back here?”

His smile softened. “I’d learned all I could. The healer said he didn’t have anything left to teach me—I’ve always been a fast learner, if you remember it—” she gave a small laugh— “And… and Anne wanted to see me.” 

Her eyes widened, hopeful. “Did you? Did you see her? How did it go?”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Better than I could have imagined. She… she said she forgives me.” 

Her hand took his where it was resting on the table. “That’s wonderful, Sebastian.” He could tell that she meant it. She was happy for him—relieved to hear it. She had always told her that Anne would forgive him eventually—he had never quite believed it. He was so glad she had been right. 

“Yes, well, that’s not all we talked about.” He took a deep breath. He hadn’t admitted his next words out loud yet—he was afraid saying them would make the reality of them unbearable. “She asked me to stop looking for a cure. And… I’ve decided to listen to her.” 

The shock was apparent in her face. But the disappointment he had been expecting was absent. “How on earth did she manage that?”

“She told me I need to move on from things. ‘Live for myself…’” He pressed his lips together. “I’m not completely sure what I’m going to do now, but I have some ideas. I think I’ll stay around here, at least for a time. Help Anne get settled with the new treatments. Maybe even become a healer myself, now that I’ve learned so much.”

She smiled widely at him, giving him a supportive squeeze of the hand. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

The sun was setting over the Highlands—they had talked away the afternoon. When she looked outside the window to see how late it had gotten, Sebastian was afraid she would say she needed to leave, that this moment would be over before he got the chance to tell her why he’d asked her there in the first place. Instead, she looked back at him, and suggested they take a walk together. 

He couldn’t help but admire the way she looked in the golden light of the setting sun. It reflected off her eyes, entrancing him. As they walked, their hands brushed together again and again—neither of them took the step to connect them, but neither moved away. 

They stopped on a curve of the path that overlooked the Highlands. Sebastian looked over the view as he asked his next question. 

“Why did you come?” 

She was quiet for a moment. “Like I said, you asked,” she said softly. “That’s all you’ve ever needed to do.” There was a weight to her words. One that made his heart pound in his chest. “And I’ve missed you, Sebastian,” she admitted. “I still care about you, like I always have. I couldn’t help but worry. I wanted to make sure you were well.”

It took him several seconds to form the words he wanted to say. “Anne told me I needed to find things to live for. Find the things that make me happy,” he began. “And I’ve been racking my brain, trying to find them.” He looked at her, meeting her eyes. “All I could think about was you.” He let out a sigh, voice trembling slightly as he continued. “I should have told you years ago. I should have loved you when I had the chance. Part of me still hopes… well, I still feel the same. But I understand if you’ve moved on. Found something better.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “I suppose I just needed you to know. You could’ve been my happy ending.” 

Her eyes were wide and shining at his words, but there was a small smile on her lips. The breath left his lungs as she took a step closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “It seems you didn’t hear me properly. Didn’t I just say I still care for you the same way as I always have? I love you, Sebastian. Just the same now as I did the day you left.” 

The hand on his arm slid down to take his hand. He stared down at their intertwined fingers—they still fit together, after all that time. They still felt right. Felt like home. 

His eyes met hers as he placed his hand on her face, guiding her closer—closer—until there was no space between them. 

This time, when he kissed her, he took his time. It wasn’t a farewell, or a heart wrenching declaration—it was a new beginning. The start of something wonderful.

This kiss was a promise—one he finally intended to keep. 

A/N: I hope this made up for the first part :) If you have any requests or want to chat, feel free to message me or send an ask! Thanks for reading!

[emmatgc]

Tommy's Secret

Thomas Michael Shelby

A War hero.

He used to smile, a lot.

He likes to work with horses.

He fell in love with Greta.

He watched her die.

He got PTSD.

He never came back from the war.

Nobody did.

He became the lead gangster boss.

A cold blooded killer.

A charming racketeer.

A Manwhore.

He loves his family but decides for them, too.

Controlling, manipulative , egoistical and highly ambitious.

He is the "robinhood" mobster kind.

He is their bad guy.

He demands loyalty from everybody

but not himself.

He is too wounded. Too damaged.

But kept on going for the family

Just waiting till somebody finally ends him.

But nobody did. Fate has other plans.

Much crueler than death.

Fate decided, Tommy should live again.

Lived he did through a woman named, Grace.

A copper came to town with a mission.

An agent of the crown.

An undercover spy in silk

Full of revenge and duty

For herself and her country.

She got him at his "Hello".

Instantly smitten and besotted

So intrigued and bewildered.

Who the f*ck is she?

1st time since Greta, he fell in love again.

But this time, with a sworn enemy.

How could he?

Tommy tried to hide and denied it

He tried to play her as a jerk he was with Kimber

But he changed his mind

Confused and scared of what it all means to him

A blonde barmaid who sings.

Tommy says no a lot but he says yes to almost everything Grace.

The boy I love, she sings.

Secretly, hoping he is that boy up in the gallery.

Little by little, he researched on her

Slowly but surely, he cant help but think about her

Why is she here?

Ref flags not green flags

Is Tommy that stupid?

He answers for her even if he was the one who asks those questions

There were doubts but it remained as is

He was already blinded, falling hard

Like a choo choo train, it cant be stopped.

He was nearly killed but she saved him, twice.

One at the bar and the other, at her apartment.

They have seen each other.

Flawed, imperfect and the same.

She was a snitch alright, but she, too changed her mind.

She tried to cut and sew the loose ends

But Campbell was a bigger jerk.

Tommy as smart as he was was blinded by love.

Ask Polly, she knows.

Grace packed her bags

But he needed to see her.

He wasn't angry. He got betrayed but he still wants to see her alright.

She confessed again and he tossed a coin and chose to walk away.

He needed a reason to stay.

He chose his family.

He doesn't deserve her, he knows

She was his soldiers minute but

He continued being Tommy.

Two years past and he hasn't moved on from her.

Again, ask Polly, for she knows.

Too wounded. Too hurt.

Too proud to return any letters or write them back

Yet never once said he said to stop.

Slept with May, Lizzie and others

but in the instant she is back in their homeland

He called and got jealous of the man at the other line.

See, Tommy's secret is not his business nor his family.

It was and will always be Grace.

Grace's secret is Tommy's secret.

Like his favorite horse he caress and loves dearly, it is a homage to her.

He is keeping her secrets

Nobody dares should ask for he wont tell.

He doesn't tell people things, he tells her

In short, he is protecting her all this time.

Grace came back.

A second chance was given.

They had a reunion.

One that showed his vulnerability and unconditional love.

By all means, he should be angry at her.

She is now married.

But it was him who let her go.

He hated her ring but at the same time

brought her to Charlie Chaplin to impress her.

It did more than that.

He became the father to her child just as he thought he would from the 1st night they made love.

A future full of promises, change and redemption.

Finally, he admits defeat.

She wins, always.

Tommy who is always in control couldn't control Grace.

He loves her so much

But there's too much sins to pay even before she came

Tommy who was ready to die at the Derby races

Became so breathless upon hearing "i love you not him"

There is a woman, true.

A woman he deeply loves.

What he lacked was time.

She paid for his sins.

Tragic and painful

Shortlived for her

Eternal suffering for Tommy.

Fate crueler than death.

He got close.

Nearly got f*cking everything.

All he wanted was to dance with her

Now, every night he is dancing with her ghost.

He killed her

She killed him, too.

He is no longer living a life rather just barely living in the land of the living.

Happy or sad, Thomas?

He wants to join her.

Another secret.

[ateriblewriter]

Scar (m.b)

warnings: scars, surgery

Enjoy!

“What happened here?” Matt lightly traced the prominent that ran down the middle of your chest. The two of you had been laying in bed one morning when the question felt like it had come out of nowhere.

The scar. The very one that you always tried to cover up. It always felt like people were staring at it. The mark was something that made you feel ugly and broken. Though you were given the scar when you were just a little kid, the flaw continued to follow you around into adulthood.

“Nothing.” You tried to turn away from Matt, but he held you loosely in place. You hated it. You just wanted it to go away, but it never would.

“I know it’s probably hard for you to talk about.” The blonde haired man that you loved so dearly started placing soft kisses along the line and up your chest until he got to your lips, kissing those as well. “But I’d like to know. I want to know you. All of you.”

Matt and you hadn’t even been dating a full year, after having been by your brother who played with Matt in Minnesota, and in that time Matt had never once mentioned or asked about the thing that ran in between your breasts. For that you were ever grateful. But now that he was asking you couldn’t help thinking he would think of you as damaged goods and leave you.

Taking a deep breath you look up at him and started to explain. “I had a bad heart. When I was younger my heart was giving out and I needed a new one. For years I was getting away with different meds. Thankfully when I was a freshman in high school I received a new heart.” You quickly looked away when you were done telling him the story, unaware of the look on his face.

“You’re okay now though, right?” Your boyfriend unwrapped his arms from around you, a worried look displayed his features. “I mean nothing we did last night or this morning is going to do any harm?”

“No no no. Any activity isn’t going to hurt me.” You laughed at him. His worry was truly touching. “My heart is working just fine now. I just got stuck with this ugly scar and a whole lot of insecurities.”

“I don’t think it’s ugly. It adds to your beauty. It’s a part of you and I wouldn’t change that for the world.” Matt smirked, moving a piece of your hair away from your face so he could look into your eyes.

“Matthew Boldy, I love you.” It makes you feel better that he sees the imperfection as part of you.

“Well that’s good. Because I love you Y/N Y/L/N.” You kiss him with a newfound appreciation.

Let me know what y'all think! I’d love you hear your thoughts, comments and complaints!

[charred-angel-ribs]

I'm nearing the end of my third (3rd) full watch through of Hannibal, and I love the show so dearly. I love going on about the writing and symbolism and the acting and every little bit that makes it so good as a show.

But I feel like it's only fair to talk about the flaws as well, so, I gotta say it: I don't like Molly's character.

I think she could have been a good character, but for some reason she just doesn't feel well written. Her character feels very shallow (not like a shallow personality, but shallow as in not developed). Like a filler character for the sake of pushing a narrative, rather than an actual person involved in the story.

We don't really get to know much about Molly, but from what we do see of her, she comes across as an NPC almost. As if she's saying what she does just for the sake of it.

She gets Will to go back to working with Jack, which implies she either is completely unaware of how bad things were and what happened, or that she knows but doesn't care/understand properly. Now, either of these are viable options for a character, but the way it's done just seems to lack any sort of reasoning or feeling.

When she talks about it, both with Jack and Will, her dialogue feels like it's written just for the sake of pushing a narrative. It doesn't feel like there's any sort of drive or emotion behind what she's saying. She objects a little with "You're gonna take him either way" to Jack, but the way it's done just sounds like she's saying it for the sake of "Oh but I didn't want him to, I tried to convince Jack otherwise".

It doesn't feel reasonable for her character. From what we see, Molly and Will seem to have a healthy relationship, and they do seem to actually care about eachother (though even that isn't written very well), so it doesn't make sense that she wouldn't care - in fact, I would argue she would care a lot. But she doesn't seem to?

Not just with Will going back, but about the consequences too. After Molly and Walter's incident with Dolarhyde, it shows Molly in a hospital bed talking to Will. She barely seems phased by it. The most emotion we see her express over the matter is "My son almost died. I almost died." said very calmly, then proceeded by a sigh and "Man, I got mad there for a second."

Like, I'm sorry? What do you mean "I got mad there a second"? She should be way more shaken up by that. Like she just said, she and her son not only almost died, but were almost killed. By the guy Will's after, because the man who manipulated him for so long decided to sick him on Will's family as a way of further manipulating him now that he's back.

Yes, she does call Hannibal out with "I knew it was him," but that's it. She deserves to get angry, she should get angry. Or scared, or annoyed, or upset, something. The fact that she's so calm about it all makes it feel very superficial, like they just had her there to push things along and that's it.

And alongside Molly's character's poor writing, Will's line of "I'm just about tired of you crazy sons of bitches." feels wildly out of character, not only for Will but for the whole show. Will is not, at any point in the show (to my memory and knowledge), known to make any sort of ableist remarks or use any sort of ableist language - in fact, I don't think anyone does. The closest it gets is when Chilton uses outdated terms to refer to Gideon (if I remember correctly).

The whole show is very respectful (in my opinion) of neurodivergent and mentally ill people, especially considering it's a large part of its horror aspect. I view Hannibal as proof that you can have media whose horror aspect is neurodivergence/mentall illness, without it being ableist. In fact, at the beginning of the show, we see Will talking to Jack about how he doesn't like that Jack made a museum about serial killers and named it the "Evil Minds Museum". A lot of mental illnesses are villainised and considered "evil", and Will was outwardly objecting to that.

So for Will to just walk into Hannibal's room and say that feels like a curveball and a half. It doesn't feel natural. Will has never been known to say things like that, and whenever he and Hannibal communicate, it's never that aggressively blunt; there's always some layer of poeticism and subtext to carry the words forward. But even so, Will doesn't really talk like that with anybody??

I don't know, maybe I'm just missing something, or misinterpreting something. This is just how it came across for me. I'd love to hear someone else's thoughts on this. /lh /gen

[necrotic-nephilim]

What do you think of alfred/bruce?

!!! good question, i love them so dearly.

shipping Bruce can get difficult when you want to put him in the position of submission. it's not impossible and there are characters you can make him submit (Clark and Diana are the obvious choices) but they're not characters who would any significant power over him, so for the fun of like, fucked up power play, unless you're doing something like an Injustice or Justice Lords AU, it's hard. so if you want to ship Bruce with someone who holds an implicit power over hi him and has the rare ability to tell him what to do, the answer is Alfred. which is just so fun.

because i personally really enjoy putting Bruce in a submissive role. it's a subversion of what you expect out of him, and subverts a lot of his key character traits. he's someone who *requires* control as a part of his personal regiment, part of his mission. he doesn't like to give it up, and he won't give it up to just anyone. when he does give it up, it's always conditional. the few times he gives someone like Dick control, he always takes it right back. Alfred is one of, if not the only person who has full control over Bruce. he can tell Bruce what to do, and Bruce will listen. it's still not perfect and Bruce will go against him, but largely, he can and will exert that control when he feels it's necessary. so that's so fun to play with romantically. especially with the aspect of him not only raising Bruce, but knowing Bruce practically his whole life. Alfred has just always Been There. he's a constant pillar.

and i had an interesting conversation with a mutual about how Alfred's life pretty much revolves around Bruce. Alfred will toss aside his own blood family (Julia) to prioritize Bruce. how Alfred behaves around the rest of the Batfam is defined by their relationship to Bruce and his love for them is often just an extension of his love for Bruce. it's complete devotion from Alfred, and if you make it romantic, it immediately borders on obsession. there's no. "healthy" version of this ship and that's the fun of it. especially if it's a Year One type era, where it's just the two of them. but it's also fun to introduce the rest of the Batfam and see their reactions to it. how long they take to notice, what they feel about it, etc.

these two are so intertwined in a very similar Batman/Robin way, in that most superhero spoofs have a butler for a reason- you just can't separate Bruce from Alfred unless you're willing to kill one of them off. we treat Alfred like this kindly old man who's just there to make tea and witty remarks, but in reality this man is a war vet who served in MI-5. he's rough around the edges in a way that if he and Bruce had met under any other circumstances, they likely wouldn't get along. Alfred has killed people in combat, he has no reason to believe in a no-kill rule and would see the flaws in it. but it's *Bruce*, a man he's been devoted to since the Waynes died. someone Alfred watched grow up.

if i were to personally write them together, i'd have them get together after Bruce leaves and trains for years. because who Bruce is when he leaves Gotham and who he is when he returns are two very different people. and Alfred still lives him wholly, but this isn't a traumatized boy anymore, this is a man who's systematically turned himself into a weapon. and so when Alfred agrees to help, it comes with a natural relationship that's complicated and has built-in fucked up power dynamics. Alfred is the one person who can get away with telling Bruce what to do, killing for Bruce, and taking care of him when he's emotionally vulnerable. there's a deep level of trust in all of that so i really love it and wish we had more of it. you can take it to the extreme dead dove end of things, or play with it in a more domestic sense and both. both are good.

[sereves]

My thoughts on Ophelia

Bare with me, this is long.

Okayyy so I might get a lot of hate for this and this is my very first post so here we go.

I’m really sick of the fandom shipping Lawless x Ophelia, and it seems no one really touches on the gravity of their relationship and just blindly ships it because it's cute and matches the princess x knight aesthetic. I’ll be the first one to say it, although I love Ophelia’s character I really hated her relationship with Lawless. 

First off, she treated Lawless like shit. No one ever mentions this, but she only used him whenever she wanted to. Lawless being a servamp and all that, and not to mention it is heavily implied that Ophelia knew of Lawless’s feelings towards her which makes it extra hurtful. I mean, just look at this panel:

Is no one really going to say anything about this panel? Lawless even canonically says he felt used in their situation, and he’s not wrong to feel this way. Granted, again I love Ophelia’s character being based on Hamlet and her ambitions to keep peace within her kingdom, but man…She really used Lawless whenever she felt fit. 

Another thing I’d like to note is that whenever a character is talking about someone they love dearly, Strike intentionally makes the surrounding background of the character shine like they are an angel. Misano’s mom is an example of this. Seriously the fandom-loving Misano’s mom who intentionally homewrecked was weird and now that we’ve gotten her real backstory it feels as if Strike who made Misano’s mom look angelic and innocent has been shattered. It’s the same way how I feel about Lawless looking at Ophelia. It’s almost like rose-tinted glasses are being put on whenever the guys see someone they care for deeply. They cannot see their flaws.

Moving on, here is another panel I want to talk about.

Yall, I am upset with this panel a lot, and again, no one ever seemed to talk about it, but here Ophelia literally tells him not to cry and calls him a fool. AND she says he has no dignity as a servamp?? Guys, do you not see the toxic masculinity here 😭 No wonder Lawless is such a crybaby in the future, Ophelia literally told him to stop crying in the past and basically called him a big baby, when she is literally going to die. Like Lawless, is literally having a full-blown panic attack right now and Ophelia literally tells him to stop crying- I- WH Y- YOU ARE ABOUT TO DIE. HE LOVES YOU. YOU KNOW THAT. AND YOU TELL HIM TO STOP CRYING AND SAYS HE HAS NO DIGNITY. I’m sorry, I’m trying not to be too emotional but this panel really had me upset, because it really does explain later why Lawless cries so much when he lost djinn later on, and is noted as a “cry baby”. Gee, I wonder why, maybe cause in the past the person he loved used him, emotionally abused him, and told him to stop crying 💀

Moving on, theres this,

yALL, SHE CUCKED HIM FOR REAL 💀 😭Like my mans did not deserve this 😭I get it she had to do it for peace for her country but damn, did she really brush off Lawless when she KNEW he had feelings for her. When she said she was getting married she and during the actual marriage she fr had that smile on her face as if she wasnt breaking Lawless’ heart into a million pieces 💀

MY NEXT AND BIGGEST POINT:

She. Was. A. Child. When thye met. Guys, please tell me I’m not insane for not shipping them, but Lawless met Ophelia as a child and basically raised her. I cannot get over it, it’s weird??? Bro basically prordered her 💀I love Lawless, I really do. He’s been my favorite character for the past like 6 years, but the Ophelia x Lawless ship really gives off weird vibes. Like I really dislike how they met when Lawless was a full on adult and Ophelia was literally like 10 in this panel, and then she grew up. Like thank god they didn’t get together cause that’s basically gr00ming since he kinda raised her💀I’m going to move on from this, and let you guys process this, but yeah…

Alright those are my main points for now, sorry if this is rushed, I’ve been having these thoughts ever since I met Ophelia not gonna lie and this is way overdue, but I’ve had my suspicions for awhile that Strike frames loved ones in rose-tinted glasses for a reason, and then later on reveals who they are actually. Not saying this matches with Ophelia, but after seeing the reveal on Misano’s mom being a whole hoe I figured I’d finally get the balls to make this post. I know I’m going to get chastised for this, but honestly, someone needs to say it. Happy Thanksgiving yall, and my inbox is open if you wanna talk about this, but please be gentle, I’m not here to fight anyone, just give my opinions.

(Edited: typos and grammar)

[caffeinemarche]

Yearning || Jason T.

Summary; Jason Todd and his longing for someone to hold him, Bruce who is trying to be a good dad comes to the rescue.

Warning/tags: angst; under the redhood arc spoiler; OOC Jason Todd; Jason and his father issues. THIS IS NOT BRUCE X JASON. hurt/comfort; Bruce being a father to Jason.

Word count: 200-400 words.

a/n: not proofread, first fic in tumblr... i apologize for some grammars error, enjoy reading!

Gotham is a cold and lonely place that Jason had grown accustomed to, he has to. The cold of the rain covers his body as trails of blood from the gunshot wound on his stomach drops to the ground, seeping to his suit as it is drenched with sweat and blood. His breath shallow as he drag his feet to the source of light in the end of the alleyway that is becoming blurry.

He had been beaten, wounded, trying to crawl out from this hell hole that he'd been throwing fist to several goons that had littered the place.

Ever since his death, ever since he was abandoned, comes the birth of a cold-blooded criminal. He was reborn as the Redhood.

The laughter that crawls under his skin, struck by the pain of the cold steel of a crowbar, left alone to endure. If only he had listened to Bruce, would things be much different? all he wanted was to see the person who gave birth to him.

He had dug out of the dirt with his bare hands, gasping out for air in the darkness of the coffin, the fear that he was alone overtook his sense of pain. His helpless scream for help, remained deaf to anyone.

In the back of his head, perhaps he should've never look after him to get his revenge. He should've never forced a gun to Joker in front of his arch-nemesis. Batman, his mentor, the only person he ever had when he was a robin.

In the end he was person that was not worth to avenge for, not worthy enough to be remembered, perhaps he meant nothing for the person who meant so much to him. At least it's what had been feeling, perhaps for his flaws, he had to remain as a man full of bitterness and anger, punished due to his own self. He was convinced that he would never be able to be loved.

And he learned the world is bitter, had always been bitter and cold. Convincing his heart and mind, to be ruthless, he is free from his past.

He is full of anger and sadness, the hatred of the man that left him, he wondered why he would've even bothered to take him? give him hope that would only crush him?

He'd find himself awake on nights he'd find trembling on his bed, hugging himself as he cried, he felt weak but there was no one to see him fall apart to the boy he used to be.

No longer feeling the rain that fell on his skin, his eye flutters open to the ceiling he had never thought to see again. His eyes squint instictively due to the moonlight that shines on his face, the room was dark and the moon is the source of light. Moving his head, he looked around to see he was lying on a bed, wrapped in bandages. The room he's in were too familliar, he recognizes the place.

And there was Bruce, arms crossed as he sits on a wooden chair right beside the bed. Jason eyes picks up the worried look on him, seemingly relieved that he had woken up from his sleep. Jason gave him the bitter look and Bruce's face remained cold, not that he could help.

Soon, even with the awkward silences or the glares they shared, in the end Jason was in his arms once again, held as if he would break just like those other nights he had spent alone.

Bruce remained silent, holding his son who he had never meant to let go, who he had convinced that he was not worth to fight for and his heart ache at the feeling of Jason's warm body. After the last time he had held him, his body was cold and lifeless.

And that night, Jason eyes swelled with tears that soon he can't seem to hold, his arm holding dearly to his father who had abandoned him.

Hoping that he would be seen again.

[mamanbou]

The Roppongi-Yoyogi beef in tmm au lait is something that's so important to me. The hatred they share. Yoyogi obviously hates Roppongi on sight because Roppongi is a narcissistic freak, but I think it goes deeper than that. It's because roppongi is bisexual.

i think yoyogi's closeted-gay in-love-with-his-best-friend doing-mental-gymnastics-to-regularly-kiss-said-best-friend-as-a-bit ass saw roppongi openly flirting with a man onstage and felt a complicated unspeakable blend of emotions and instead of confronting any of that he just decided that, no matter what, he hated him. (Which is quite easy to do given that he's insufferable)

Roppongi, being surprisingly perceptive, is of course fully aware of this. He makes it clear repeatedly, though mostly in extras, that he knows exactly what Yoyogi is.

Like with most other things he perceives about Yoyogi, he finds this fact equal parts frustrating and (sym)pathetic. So he openly tries his best to give yoyogi advice and hints and nudges towards at least realizing his feelings, but it never really works Yoyogi loves both Shibuya and Anzu dearly (in a general sense) and would never seriously take action to jeopardize their relationship, so conceptualizing his own feelings about shibuya as romantic is too dangerous. And also because i think he'd rather die than admit Roppongi was right about something.

Yoyogi is full of himself, but only in that he acknowledges his many strong points in an objective, neutral light without embellishment. He's intelligent, he's physically adept, he's handsome, he's good with women- these are all traits that are societally encouraged. He's also very likely gay, based on. the way he acts the entire series. Like seriously whenever he discusses women (including Anzu, which is very notable as she's kind of the female audience insert when it comes to fanservice) it's "women are attracted to me, I am capable of attracting women". whenever he's deliberately seductive, it's either a means to an end or he's messing around- either way, 110% uninvested. Compare that to his baffling persistence in finding any excuse to kiss Shibuya directly or indirectly... his ass is homosexual.

But being gay isn't rewarded by society. it isn't something that Yoyogi can embrace like he does all his other traits- he can't even bring himself to face it properly, because it would shatter his self-image and public persona of objective superiority. Yoyogi's narcissism isn't an actual obsession with the self, it's more like a dedication to showing off the most accepted version of the self.

Compare that to Roppongi, whose narcissism is 100% pure and all-encompassing. There's not a bit of posturing. He's flamboyant, certain in his own judgement, prioritizes his own wants and needs to an often absurd degree, flirts with anyone he pleases with no pretense... he loves himself, ADORES himself, in his ridiculous entirety. He doesn't feel he has anything to prove, he's just himself- and "himself" is inherently a thing of greatness. So he's happy with his bisexuality, polyamory, and subtly feminine gender expression- unlike Yoyogi. Compare their initial reactions to their mew mew outfits.

So of course Yoyogi immediately hates him. Roppongi receives nothing but adoration for proudly, mindlessly (well, not really, but to the bitter outside observer it would appear mindless) displaying these traits that he keeps locked deep, deep in a closet to protect his social standing.

Anzu calls Yoyogi's dialogue here "Roppongi-kun-ish", but it isn't, really. He's more resigned than anything else. He receives benefits for his attractiveness, it's best (objectively) to be above average, versus Roppongi basking in the grand consequences of his excellence.

Roppongi's issue with Yoyogi is that Yoyogi refuses to face his flaws or work to improve himself for the team's sake. He cares for the guy as a teammate, and shows him special attention as he tries to understand him, but he insists on being incredibly difficult to work/reason with because Yoyogi's issue with Roppongi is that everything about his personality triggers self-loathing.

I just think the contrast in their characters and the background conflict that springs from it is so fun, it would've been so easy to make the two self-absorbed "mature ones" indistinguishable from each other, but the best thing about au lait is the main character writing (aliens notwithstanding fuck those guys). Read au lait for them. In my minds eye they're like a serene worldly mother bird and her baby bird who won't stop pecking the shit out of her leg

[sueske]

Edo Itachi mentioned to Sasuke that he wishes he would've told Sasuke the truth of the coupe d'etat because he felt he would've changed their parents and the clans' minds, but I can't help but doubt it would've changed much. Fugaku comes off as a pride man and he has told Sasuke to stop following Itachi as he was obviously on a different path. And it wasn't just him, but the clan themselves seemed all so proud. If Sasuke would've known about it and intervened on meetings, (as far as I feel) they would've probably told him he's too young to understand and doesn't know the full extent of their history. Would it have changed Sasuke more if he had known about their real history and Madara's decision (on wanting to leave Konoha) early on or would the clan have changed more if the leaders' second son shared the same sentiments as their eldest; (as a stretch) would they think Itachi is trying to brainwash Sasuke to his beliefs and want to instead use him as the clan's perosnal gains since the eldest failed?

Sorry it seems stupid, but I've been pondering about this all day.

it's not like the clan's primary reason for the coup was their pride hello what? even if sasuke did intervene pride is not the reason why the clan would decide to continue their plans, because they have too much pride, but because of the decades of discrimination and mistreatment against their clan that has nothing to do with pride to begin with, but with basic human rights and respect, that no amount of 'peaceful mediation' thus far was able to achieve.

just cuz sasuke's the son of the clan leader he's just a 7 year old boy, they disagreed with itachi (the eldest, a prodigy) already so what import would they give sasuke beyond a cursory listen to? it's the clan head that they follow. and realistically speaking what could sasuke (a 7 year old) have said? sasuke could've appealed to them ig but would that be enough considering the decades discrimination they faced? no. it was so dumb of itachi to even say that cuz he himself said he had no regrets but he's sure sasuke could've changed the clan, so it's just trying to make sasuke feel more guilty... like 'I have no regrets but I'm sure you could've changed everything and your whole clan could've been alive rn if you had a chance to act' like be soooo fr. insane to the very end.

also I think it'd be difficult to ascertain what 7 year old sasuke's stance would be in the first place... would he agree with itachi and not want a coup (though the reasoning behind it is sooo flawed in the first place)? would he agree with his dad (who's acknowledgement he wants more than anyone else) and the whole clan by extension? what made itachi so sure that sasuke would not have wanted the coup to take place? is he just projecting his own ideals on to sasuke as per usual? if sasuke was made aware with the canon information they all had, would he rally with his clan? if he knew the whole truth (even with madara etc cuz you didn't specify the real truth with madara or the pre-real truth), what itachi was planning on doing, would that make him hate konoha like we saw in shippuden? -obviously to a different extent cuz circumstances are different- and all other variations thereof. but we can only speculate cuz there's no conclusive evidence of sasuke's ideologies at 7 year's old, all we know is that he was very family orientated and his dad's acknowledgement was his goal, and that he loved his family dearly. don't get me wrong I don't think sasuke would be happy to immediately resort to violence and killing like danzo etc, I don't think he'd like the idea of a coup to begin with, but if push comes to shove idk what his own sense of justice would be at 7. he never got the change to explore that organically for himself, "you could've changed the clan had I told you" is just another pipe dream itachi dangled in front of his face and took away from him.

[apollolovescheesecak]

on self love

my thoughts and opinions on self love and bodies. i tries to write in the style of Khalil Gibran, especially in his philosophical work of “The Prophet”. hope i help someone with this ❤️

would that you could cast a loving gaze upon your shell that houses your infinite soul in a minute body, i would bestow such a gift to you. but, since we are so critical of ourselves where we forgive others, let me try and bestow this feeling on you.

when i look upon my face, i see not the evil of the spots where the oil of the fruits of my labor have seeped beneath my skin, nor the evil of the darkness that covers the sockets of my eyes where they lie, like an eclipse to the sun, but rather, the good of those things. i see the beauty of my wonderfully round face where others might see a flaw. i look onto myself with pride, not so that i may take away my love for others to give to myself, but so that i may take my self love and give unto others. for what is it to love others, but not have that same compassion for yourself? it is to sing a love song without lyrics, the chorus no more soothing to man’s ears than nails on a chalkboard. it is to sow seeds of empty affection with no water or sunlight, and expect them to feed you. you cannot feed others with your bread if you cannot bake the loaf yourself. 

when i look upon the mass of flesh and blood that the universe has weaved for me, i am proud to be inside it. i look at the ripples on where my body is warped like a tree growing with joy, for you cannot have an sea without ripples covering it, ever constantly in a cycle of sending itself into the sky, to be kept in clouds, to finally rain back into itself. so too does your soul go to your body, keeping itself on the earth as you hold yourself in clouds, then when you lay down in the sea, your body becomes dust to fuel the creation of another body. 

when i look upon my belly, full and ripe, i sing a love song to myself in my heart. for what is to have a body but to nurture it, hoping it may grow? it is to wonder why you are lesser than for doing what your body was meant to do, to be forever ashamed of what should be rejoiced. when you eat, you take a communion to the god of your body, the son of your heart, and the holy spirit inside you. it is to drink from the cup of life verily, and happily, just as the bride and groom of a wedding drink to celebrate a bond of love. food is one in the same, it is love.

it is to bake bread with your neighbor in hopes it may feed him. it is to touch shoulders with your lover as you cook a meal that will fill your bellies as full as your souls. it is to rejoice in the tradition of those since long passed, and to stand with the dearly beloved dead, and stand in their shadow. when you eat, say to yourself, “i am taking an oath of love to my friends whom i have eaten with and spent countless hours with, the people who fed me beneath their roofs, the loves in life i have made along the way, weaved together by the binding cloth of a shared need to nourish our bodies and minds.” and when you drink, say to yourself, “i am taking an oath of joy to those i have loved and lost, whom i drank with and the hours passed by like water droplets in a river. i am drinking so that the fluid my touch every vein in my bloodstream, just as their affections did.”

for me, i was not always granted this luxury of pleasure that i now call self love. it is only in loving life that you may find such a thing. many people make the mistake of assuming all souls are meant for the bodies they are assigned to. the hand of the universe is random, and human beings are too complex for all feeling to be housed inside said bodies. if you must change the shell that inhabits you, do it not so that you may love yourself, do it because you love yourself. for even the sweet wine that touches your lips must have the grapes crushed and processed first. the wine cannot say onto the grapes, “i am better and more sweet than you, for i am crushed and distilled and complex,” when the grapes are also good. your original bodies are good, just as your bodies to sculpt from marble are good, though the grapes alone cannot serve the same purpose wine does. but if the grapes are sour beforehand, you crush a bitter wine that stains the tongue. when you form yourself into your delighted being, you craft yourself from dirt, like God did with Adam and Eve. the dirt cannot hold you alone, but with crafting, it can turn into something bigger, something more suited for our souls. to mold your finite body to house your infinite spirit better is an act of worship of yourself, but it cannot be taken by a corrupt preacher. love yourself, then the winds of the heavens may bless your journey on your winding road of self completion.

in truth, your body longs to love itself, like the river longs to join the sea again, but seems impossible with its winding curves and and long stretches. but the water droplet will indeed find the sea, just as you will find self love. let yourself love life, and in loving life lives the key to loving yourself. 

tagging @gaykneecaps, since we had a discussion on this not too long ago. thank you for discussing it with me so that i could put my thoughts to paper. i would very much like to know what you think of it, love ya ❤️

edit: also tagging @ineffabildaddy !!

[horizon-verizon]

I reread the whole dance of dragon sequence from the books and god the show writing makes me so fucking angry [again]!!! like uff in many parts it feels like the show writers wrote the blacks as an accessory for the development of greens throwing blacks so down in the imagine of public. and so i hate when show fans speak [mainly greens] as if all knowing when they cannot discern the hypocrisy and the flaws in writing of the show. show!alicent's moments make me so angry.

recently i saw someone on twitter say that blacks hold the books in higher regards so they went to read them only to get a 'history book' with only accounts from many forming their opinion on how the books are just books and not a good story. the replies were full of how GRRM was so bad at writing them as if they have half the wits if they cant comprehend the text, the accounts of who were the main people telling the story to get to form opinions closer to "truth". its not that hard, simple reading comprehension can tell you what we can take as almost truth. they think HOTD was meant to be the medium to show the truth T_T

with Daemon and Laena, i feel so that he truly did love her. I hate it when they just toss aside Laena. he fought for her hand. they had two children together both who he loved so dearly. even Laena's friendship with Rhaenyra is erased in the show [i feel like they just didnt want to show that Rhaenyra was capable to hold good relationships at all] coming back to Daemon:

Her grueling labor had drained all of Lady Laena’s strength, and grief weakened her still further, making her helpless before the onset of childbed fever. As her condition steadily worsened, despite the best efforts of Driftmark’s young maester, Prince Daemon flew to Dragonstone and brought back Princess Rhaenyra’s own maester, an older and more experienced man renowned for his skills as a healer. Sadly, Maester Gerardys came too late. After three days of delirium, Lady Laena passed from this mortal coil.

even if he lost his boy, Daemon doing this for Laena is just love. I love Laena with Daemon as i love Rhaenyra with him too. Its just plain sad such a good character was put aside in the show. and then after Laena, Baela and Rhaena are given to little regard in the show. [that baela-rhaenys clip which is going about. god they had to show Aegon getting off didnt they]

also with Rhea Royce's death... there is no way Daemon killed her. He was in stepstones when she died. its such a dumb thing in the show to. or okay in the books there is no way he could have gone on dragon to vale and back without anyone noticing a fucking dragon in the skies. people are so dumb.

i dont think Daemon or Rhaenyra or any other killed Laenor, other than Ser Qarl. I dont see how people see Rhaenyra ask for someone to do it.

Like in the books so and they are biased in my opinion, Rhaenyra is not shown to have good relationships much, and which are shown are rumoured with lovers and scandals like wtf. They all mean to undermine blacks so much.

sometimes i think what if Jace and Luke were trueborn and sometimes i feel strongly as if they are. i dont care if they are bastards or not, but sometimes i think. do you have any posts mainly on this?

this was written in mess of emotions, i may be wrong in come accounts and so i'll be happy to see what you think. Ive been in the book fandom for only few months, I love your posts. hope you are having a nice day <3

As for the Daemon killing Laenor, I changed my mind a little.

I think that if he were alone, he would have had him killed after Laena already died--was willing to.

So rather than it being a morality thing, it is a convenience matter that makes me consider how Daemon may or may not have killed Laenor. Including how he might have hidden his own movements and preparations to have this guy killed, which, yes, could just be him meeting with Qarl Correy in secret as he did in the show. But again, it depends on how dumb Corlys and Rhaenys are, or how willing they are to suspect Daemon and believe it.

He'd still have convinced Rhaenys very well that he had nothing to do with it, which I can't imagine was easy or worth it for him. Both Rhaenys and Corlys still have to support Rhaenyra after all, if the goal was to get closer to Rhaenyra and gather support/be support for her, as is the argument for the pro-Daemon killed Laenor thing.

As for how the show writers and Condal wrote the blacks to have less and the greens to have "more" by stealing their traits, ozymalek writes the best (and my own final agreement as to how this came about) HERE. Excerpt:

The Dance era in "Fire and Blood" is something that will fundamentally cause the feelings of cognitive dissonance. I think this is why people initially disliked this book when it first came out. It did not provide easy answers, it was written as a historical account, the in-universe historians were clearly biased. People, however, had trouble realizing who the historians are biased for and against.

Team Green would have you think that "F&B" is biased against the Greens, because their allegiance as maesters clearly being to Hightowers notwithstanding, they could not evade simple historical facts: that most of the kingdom supported Rhaenyra, that Greens were horrendously misogynistic and that her usurpation was clearly wrong. That's why, approaching it from the "choose your favorite war criminal" point of view, it was difficult for Greens to accept that their preferred side is so cartoonishly evil - obviously bias must have been involved, even though the only pro-Black narrator of F&B is Mushroom, the rest are Greens. The maester's anti-Targaryen bias, however, manages to sneak in and mess with the reader's balance, causing said cognitive dissonance.

It's hard to deal with it as a reader, let alone as a showrunner who's trying to adapt a story in which not everything is set in stone. They incorrectly assumed that, because they are constantly forced to question what is happening in the story, the bias is with the underlying idea that there was a correct side. As such, they assumed that all the inconsistencies result from maesters not choosing to view it that way. Ryan Condal repeatedly stated that he does not want watchers to pick sides, while George RR Martin embraces it and even encourages it (and I think that he himself has picked the Blacks). Such is our nature as human beings.

So they decided that they have to balance the scales. Because Greens are poorly developed, they added more characterization for them that contradicts their book personas (abused child bride meow meow Alicent who is clueless about the plans that in the books she herself set in motion, for example) while simultaneously taking the characterization AWAY from team Black members.

I still think that the writers are also more inclined to write Rhaenyra misogynistically for a male audience through the male gaze (xenonwitch's POST and ozymalek's POST and my own POST/its reblog by monoijikayu).

[fatedtime]

🖊

Since I talked about Eliza and Aodhan I will ALSO talk about William who exists in the same storyline.

(i haven't drawn him in ages lmfao. sorry for the old art.)

William Hare is a sadboy twink who hides his misery with jokes and is stuffed full of magical bees.

Let me explain.

(This explanation will talk about bees living in people so if that squicks you out I'd recommend avoiding this lol.)

William Hare was born out of wedlock to Margaret Hare and Heinrich Kapple, the latter of which already had a wife and three kids. (Whoops!) The secret was kept though, and he was raised alone by his mother, who worked as a seamstress in a small village. She was a good woman, and kind, and he loved her dearly. While he occasionally saw the man he knew to be his father when he came to his town for business, the visits were short and he felt no real connection to him.

One summer, when William was a pre-teen, his mother passed away from an illness that swept through his village. Before she died, she managed to get a letter to Heinrich -- warning him that she was not long for the world, and pleading for him to take custody of their son.

Heinrich, for all his flaws, wasn't the kind of man who'd entirely abandon his own son. He retrieved William from the shelter, and took him home to the Kapple farm.

This caused a shitshow of cataclysmic proportions for the household, because Heinrich's wife, Alfrida, was not made aware this was happening or that her husband had cheated on her until there was a dirty boy on her doorstep, fresh from a plague town, and being told that he was Heinrich's son. Not helping matters was Alfrida having recently given birth to her fourth child, Ingrid, leaving her understandably not impressed by this sudden influx of bullshit.

The dynamics of the household from that point on would be difficult to explain succinctly, but suffice to say no one was happy about William's introduction into their lives -- except William's slightly older sister, Lorelei Kapple, whose sense of justice was strong, even as a young teen. She hated the shadow that was already being cast on her little brother, and she took him under his wing.

Lorelei and William became extremely close, far closer than Lorelei was with any of her full siblings. He was docile and inexperienced enough that he would defer to her headstrong personality, and whatever she wanted to do, he'd follow her gladly. To him, she was a source of protection and joy in his newly gloomy life, and to her, he was a patient, loyal, and level-headed side-kick. With whatever time they had away from farm chores, Lorelei would take William into the old forest that bordered the edge of their lands, where it was said the gods still roamed and the bees stored their honey in the trees.

Now, to briefly cover magic in this setting, the kind of magic that exists depends on the land one is in. The Empire I mentioned previously have the sort of magic you might associate with trickster faeries and demons who offer contracts in exchange for power. In Pais, or 'Land of the Golden Bees' as it was historically known before a colonizing power came in to try to control the land with a name, magic comes from bees and the honey they leave in things.

Or, uh, people! People in Pais get magic because the bees in the land become of specific individuals and decide to make hives in them, filling their blood with honey and blessing them with superpowers. This also used to confer an amount of religious importance, but the Empire has been trying to stamp out those connotations and folk beliefs.

Said blessing can happen at birth, but more typically it occurs throughout the childhood of the Beloved. This was the case for William Hare, one day in the deep dark woods.

William and Lorelei had not gone farther then they normally did, but the shadows were different that day. William was sensitive to the change, but something spurred Lorelei on -- like there was something she had to find out there. Trusting his sister, he followed, and they found the den of a wolf god.

To her credit, when the wolf in the shadows attacked her brother, she defended him with the entirety of her soul. She was just a teenage girl though, and was not able to stop the god from biting off her brother's arm, even as she tried to wrestle with a creature far beyond her ken. Lorelei Kapple did not defeat the wolf that day, but when the god bit her too and found that she screamed not in pain or fear, but defiant rage and an ironclad will, he let go and left the siblings be.

Lorelei's wounds would heal, but William was bleeding out. It was then that the bees came out of the trees, healed him, and made their home within him.

Their lives changed that day. Something was different about Lorelei Kapple -- a gods saliva flowed through her veins, and a sharper intensity fueled her behavior. William became Beloved, but he existed in a strange contradictory world -- those who had called him 'bastard' now paid him homage, and yet the homage was not allowed to be explicit, because the Empire had banned such worship. Some saw William as a symbol of rebellion, some saw William as a symbol of wives' tales and folly.

Still, they had each other, as they navigated this strange new world.

...Until they didn't.

Now, the draft came in two stages. It was never officially considered part of the draft, but the Empire had made a habit of actively scouting Beloved and enrolling them in their Military Academy to be conditioned into good little Imperial Loyalists. This was, however, made mandatory when William was sixteen as tensions spiked between the Empire and one of its long-time rivals. Later, all able-bodied men would be drafted -- or... the Empire would attempt to draft them, which kicked off a revolutionary war.

Lorelei knew that her brother didn't really have a choice when he left. That's not why she felt betrayed. It was that William didn't even think about taking her offer to run away with him, and find somewhere where they could escape the bonds of both gods and men. That, deep down, William WANTED to go study under the Empire. He WANTED to escape his small little village life where everything hurt so much and he felt simultaneously cursed and worshiped. That he kind of resented Paian loyalism, and god he just kind of wanted to piss off his dad by joining up with the Empire he fucking hated.

This was the worst mistake William ever made in his life btw.

Long story short, being used for the magic bees in your body and prepared as an agent of war fucking sucked ass, and William quickly discovered he hated academia. But he also would rather die than go back to his family, and he felt like he'd fucked it up so bad with Lorelei that she wouldn't help him either, so he persisted, growing more and more miserable and increasingly coping with his circumstances by developing a congenial, friendly, hedonistic front to fit in with some of the other officers. Eventually, he became a hopeless wreck, spending more of his time disassociating than not and preparing himself for a life of hating everything he ever was and would be.

When the Revolution happened, William jumped ship, and by happenstance, fell under the command of general Irene Hirsch.

This is already getting long but to make an incredibly complicated story short, General Hirsch -- through an alcohol induced rant -- managed to smack some sense of self-worth and the desire to live into William, and for the first time in his life he actually believed in something -- her. I must emphasize that as much of a mess as William is, Irene is 50x worse, but she also slapped him and told him to Fucking Believe in Something which was exactly what he needed to hear. (It did help that William is a bit of a Bottom Bitch and Irene was simultaneously a wet dog and a power dom.)

After the war, William was left directionless and lost, and he happened to learn that General Irene was accepting proposals for marriage. And -- well, his pedigree wasn't great, but he WAS an official war mage. Maybe she'd even... remember him?

(Spoilers: she does not. But that's a story for another time.)

[reasonsilovemywife]

Dad would have been 85 today. I have no regrets in our relationship.  We spoke earlier in the day, saw each other the day before.   When he was alive, everyone who met him loved him dearly.  He never met a stranger.  He could, and would, talk to anyone. Now that he's gone he's not loved any less. I still meet people who knew him and speak highly of him. It broke my heart to lose him, but when he left us he certainly didn't go alone, he took a piece of all of us with him.  He always gave more than he took, so even though physically he's not here, we all hold huge pieces of him with us still .------------------ A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.” The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.” “Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.” Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?” The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his. -Priya Sher

[pandapupremade]

❣️ in return, i can say snakeman and your vocaloid ships!! snakeman bc iirc it was through him i meet you, and im so glad i did, youre such a nice person and friend!! but your vocaloid ships are so amazing, you put so much of your talent in them, you shocked me with your utau cover with gakupo and luka, not only you did a bomb design but could come up with the voice and tuning?? and so perfectly?? youre so cool and full of talend i admire you sm and aspire to do better in art bc of you bestie!! mwa mwa

i can say the same thing about crop haven and seven players like. HOW!!

ok first off cries /pos secondly YOU'RE SO SWEET i dont have confidence in my utau covers and often worry im just being annoying but they're very fun for me to do and im so glad u like my ship with gaku and luka bc i love them both dearly and i have so much worldbuilding and

ANYWAY when i think of u and comfort ships, i think of u and ur dbz ships tbh. cell is suchhh a good choice hes an asshole, he looks like handsome squidward and he sounds like plankton abd truly is that not the ideal man. his only flaw is hes a bug. get that love

[kopivie]

stupid little mental health update from cinna.

(note: i don't use this name anywhere else, so i sat here for a couple minutes trying to figure out how to refer to myself. might change my alias yet again. not like anyone cares.)

tw: VERY self-deprecating thoughts, feelings of hopelessness

so i'm okay, i guess? i just... i took myself on a date today. i sat in a beautiful cafe with the most delicious mocha ever and amazing natural lighting; i got my shade for a glossier skin tint and finally got the makeup that i've always wanted, and i got myself new notebooks and pens! pretty good!

but... i decided to start journaling.

and.. as freeing as that was — because really, i desperately needed an outlet for my thoughts that aren't creative — i ended up unlocking a section of my thoughts that i haven't really thought about in a while.

i'm a very self-deprecating person. like, insanely so. but for the past couple of months, i've been riding high on the little compliments i've been getting from others. like when i had a crush, he told me i look good with my hair up. or people telling me that tinsel looks good in my box braids for the past week or so. or being told by the woman at sephora that i have beautiful eyes. like i've been keeping myself afloat with these little things.

but today, just before i left the house and told my parents that i'd be out for a while, my dad gave me a look. and... my vocabulary isn't expansive enough to explain just how loaded it was.

understand something: my dad loves me dearly. he does, and i know this. but he's also worried that i'm lonely because i only have one real friend irl that i talk to and hang out with. everyone else is online and let's be real, i don't talk to anybody anymore these days. (which is likely a grief response, but i'm not here to talk about the many ways in which my grief is manifesting.) he wants me to find more friends, but specifically, he wants me to find love. obviously easier said than done, but like..

you know how dads are. they get weirdly pushy about why you're not dating. my dad noticed that his insistence was pissing me off and stopped but.. i just wish you could have seen the look he gave me when i said i was going out. i did my makeup, i wore an outfit that made me happy (wearing a skirt!!)... and he just.. looked at me.

there was so much pity in his eyes. not sorrow, not compassion — pity.

he knows i'm alone. i was so happy to be alone and he just...

he made me so aware that i'm so fucking alone, dude. it took me upwards of an hour to just figure out where i'm going, and the entire time, this seed of doubt is just growing and growing. the second my pen touched my paper, the tree of doubt was in full bloom.

because why? why am i alone?

what was the point in me enjoying the compliments if nothing comes of it? why is it that despite my attempts to fit in, to be attractive, to be normal end in failure? why, why, why am i so fucking alone?

i'm all too aware that this is a hell of my own making. i was once content to be completely alone, even without my best friend irl. i like solitude. but over time, i've realized that i really don't. and my father has been steadily watering this tree of doubt, and i don't know what to do now that i've reached this point of absolute fucking defeat. because i'm defeated. i'm so, so tired.

i'm typing this on the bus and fighting back tears. i have mascara on, so it's really hard to make sure that it doesn't run. i'm heartbroken. because in the end, all my efforts are for naught. i've been trying so hard to see the joy in the little things today, but i can't overlook the fact that in the end, i have nobody.

i can't even be like "oh, kazuha would love me!" because no. no he would not. first of all, why am i compensating for my lack of human relationships by pretending that some fictional man would like me? because he makes me happy? why does he make me happy? everything that i've written about him is based on some flawed dating experiences i've had pre-autism diagnosis. kazuha behaves the way he does in my writing because that was my way of compensating for the fact that i just needed a companion, be it platonic or romantic. all of those goddamn genshin boys were just ways for me to cope. and now that i've recognized that i can't help but laugh at how fucking pathetic i am, dude.

when i was on my way to the bus earlier, some man walked past me and said "you're super pretty by the way," and kept on walking. and honestly, that was the nail in the coffin. not because i'm foolishly expecting something to come out of that encounter — i didn't even see his face. but because i realized that i've never actually been told that before.

the word beautiful makes me uncomfortable. it disgusts me. but being called pretty is.. very rare. i'll be told that something i have on is nice or something, but nobody ever actually compliments me. and that guy... i dunno if he was an angel in passing telling me the one thing i needed to hear, or if he was some fucking demon mocking me.

regardless, i'm going to get off this bus and cry on my way home. i need to cry so badly. my heart is in tatters and it's all because of some pitying look from my father. i don't blame him but... whatever.