#i love ed teach

[suffersinfandom]

gifset by seraph-novak

So there’s a critique of this scene (and Ed in season two as a whole) that I haven’t been able to shake. The post went into how the whole mermaid sequence was ruined by the rest of the season -- about how this beautiful scene was, put in the context of Ed’s behavior in the rest of season two, an ominous rebirth of a villain. The writer couldn’t see Ed as a protagonist finding the will to live; they saw a monster getting another chance to terrorize his victims.

I really hate that. I’ve already typed way too much about how I don’t think that Ed is abusive or that the Kraken Era was all that bad, so of course I disagree with any take that characterizes Ed as a monster. But do you know why this post stuck with me?

It made me unreasonably sad.

There’s a danger in over-identifying with characters (and I do think that a lot of the tension in OFMD fandom comes from over-identification), but it’s so easy for me to understand what Ed’s going through in the first three episodes of season two. I’ve been there. Judging by this post, many of us have been where Ed is. 

We’ve struggled to live while we’re drowning. We’ve been trapped and hopeless and desperate for a reason to keep going -- for someone to give us hope that things can be better. 

And we’ve also hurt people in our despair. 

When I was in my Kraken Era, I was a sick college student who’d been fighting depression since middle school. I’d just escaped a “friendship” with someone who (I can admit in retrospect) abused me mentally and emotionally, and I had no other friends because that person had effectively isolated me. I was alone and I was convinced that I was a fundamentally unlovable person who had no right to exist. 

I pushed the few people I had around me away. I isolated myself from my mother as much as I could while living in her house. I cut off communication with my online acquaintances (who would later become good friends) and didn’t speak to anyone at school. For a while, I was so focused on my pain and self hatred that I barely thought about other people. It was an intensely selfish and self-centered existence, and I hurt my mom and everyone who could’ve been a friend. When you're in that desperately hopeless, depressed mindset, you don't care about hurting people because your own pain is so all-consuming. If anything, you want to hurt others so they'll give up on you in the same way you've given up on yourself.

It’s different from what Ed did, of course, because he’s not me and I wasn’t a pirate captain with the lives of a crew in my hands. The harm I could cause was severely limited by my lack of power, but I still caused it. I was still trying to isolate and cut ties and push away anyone who could’ve helped me even when I desperately wanted help. I wasn’t a good person.

Watching Ed go through a self-destructive arc that’s immediately identifiable, deeply personal, and so well done was incredible, and seeing the show support him instead of demonizing his behavior? I have no words for the way I felt during season two’s run. 

OFMD makes Ed a sympathetic character who’s worth loving even when he’s at his lowest. It gives us a lead who fucks up when he’s in the depths of his despair and it doesn’t pity him or wave away his problems or make a monster out of him. It doesn’t even have his romantic interest save him! Instead, it lets Ed save himself when he realizes that there’s still hope and love out there. 

This show reminded me that we’re not monsters even if we’ve hurt people. It told me that recovery is possible, and so is forgiveness. It asked me to keep loving Ed through his entire arc, and in doing that, it forced me to love the parts of me that I’m still working on as well.

So I know that I shouldn’t be bothered by people who see season two Ed as an irredeemable monster who gets an undeserved second shot at life, y’know? But even though I’m a decade and a half out of my own Kraken Era, I’m still in a perpetual state of recovery. There’s always a persistent doubt -- a suspicion that there’s a fundamental flaw in me that no amount of therapy will fix -- and that doubt latched onto some random person’s conviction that Ed is a monster. It says, If Ed will always be a monster, what about you?

And I know that voice is wrong because it’s always been a liar. I know that it doesn’t matter that some portion of the fanbase turned on Ed in season two because that man isn’t real and he’s not me. I know that, for people who haven’t experienced something that was reflected in Ed’s arc, it might be difficult to sympathize with him (and with real life people who blow their lives up in their despair). 

There will always be people who don’t understand or can’t empathize with that kind of desperate hopelessness, but there are also many, many people who get it… and some of those people were clearly in season two's writer’s room. Some of those people are in this fandom.

I guess what I’m getting at is this: I hope that, if you saw yourself in Ed’s early season two story, you know that you’re not a monster and you’re not a villain in someone else’s story, no matter what anyone else says. I hope you know that you’re worthy of love. 

I hope you know you’re not alone.

[hansoeii]

Do you think of me?

[soapbubbles511]

Still can't believe this all happened while Ed was still holding his dead fish

[nevertoolatetodie]

our flag means love

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

I love Our Flag Means Death because you can clearly feel the chemistry of two close friends who just love working together, and are so comfortable with themselves, they can act intimately as a gay couple without being insecure about it. Same with Good Omens except one of them won’t shut the fuck up about wanting to powerfuck the other on Twitter

[lily-s-world]

Based on this post

[meep-meep-richie]

I just love that insane look (and his hair)

[vlcimor]

The Night on the sea

[strawmaguchi]

he’s such a petty bitch and I love him

[casebasket]

don't know when we went from queerbaiting to

whatever the fuck this is

but i am so emotionally drained this "getting dumped by my idiot blonde boyfriend" year my dudes

like it's leaps better than before but jesus christ. at what cost.

[leonsgotit]

nobody:

no one:

not a single soul:

crowley and ed with their boyfriends’ books:

[blakbonnet]

something to stare at until we get renewed

[soapbubbles511]

Blanket Fort 2.0

[trustiskingandqueen]

I just wanna stay in the world we created, I just wanna sink in the plans that we're making

x

And a closeup of them bc I love THEM...

[lunar-system]

Edward Teach: The Star.

Adapted from the traditional Ride-Waite-Smith tarot, this version of the Star shows Ed kneeling down serenely by the spring of life, bare to the world, ready to heal after tumultuous events.

Stede as the Sun to follow, Izzy as the Moon can be found here.

Longer exploration of the card's symbolism under the cut.

***

The Star: Hope, openness, especially after a crisis. Renewal, healing, restoration.

Rachel Pollack writes: "This is the calm after a great change, whether it comes after a drastic planetary shift or a personal upheaval. There are still difficult times ahead, but the Star tells us to trust."

In the card Ed is depicted with a short, growing beard. Multiple personal upheavals and great changes have already happened, and he is settling into a new reality. Who is he when he is stripped from titles, uniforms and roles? In the space of the Star, he has enough trust to try and find out.

Pollack continues: "In Star, we find our inner strength and belief. The Star teaches us to accept whatever it is, to drop all our shields, to believe. The water poured out signifies healing, emotional and physical."

Ed as the Star is learning to shine his own light after witnessing Stede shine as the Sun. Trust and belief don't come easy, but as the Star he can be vulnerable enough to try again. The water flows from an infinite source, letting the emotions come and go.

Even though the Star opens up towards a bright future, Ed carries his history with him. His tattoos, pictures from other tarot cards, tell about his past:

Chest: Three of Swords, the infamous card of heartbreak. "Trust no one."

Left side thigh: the face of the Devil from the Devil card. One of the largest tattoos he has, projecting his self-image. "I'm the devil."

Right side thigh: Lobster from the Moon card, a beast that lurks under the surface, in the unconscious. "I'm the Kraken."

Right side: wolf from the Moon card. In my depiction of the Moon, Izzy stands for the wolf. Here the loyal wolf is cast to the side, left howling after the broken heart.

Belly: Ram from the throne of the Emperor, a symbol of masculine power. The placement on the lower belly suggest a trans reading of the character.

Chest, around the heart: birds from Ace of Cups, suggesting new beginnings even for a broken heart.

With his past carved to his skin, Ed is kneeling at the edge of land. One of his feet is planted firmly on the ground while the other graces the water. In Tarot, earth is often connected to the material, such as the body, and the conscious mind. Water is the element of emotions and the subconscious. At the edge of the water, Ed is in balance, grounded both in his body and in his emotions, the conscious and the subconscious. The water he pours rejuvenates them both.

TL;DR: After great personal upheavals, Ed as the Star is ready to heal and trust. He carries his past with him, but is ready to shine his own light and have faith in himself and for the future. He is vulnerable and at peace, and he is connected both to the ground and the water, nourishing them both with the water he pours.

***

Sources

Image source: Pamela Colman Smith, 1909, republished as Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany

Text source: Rachel Pollack, A Journey of 78 Steps, 2011, as cited in the booklet for instruction and guidance of Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany

[saltpepperbeard]

hugs ed hugs ed hugs ed hugs ed hug—