#i love mary ann so much it hurts

[wormtime123]

i've been doing sketches each ep for my own amusement and just remembered i can post them so here we go

[mareastrorum]

The only way Mary Ann could have been more real was if she’d called Jace “Mister Stardiamond.”

[folkinsomnia]

screaming myself hoarse til I pass out we were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you about your career your whereabouts!!!

[novaursa]

The Cold Embrace (1/2)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to the Warden of the North as an alliance offering, your world crashed. Because you knew one thing: dragons die in the North - and not even honorable Lord Stark could change that fact.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is an only daughter of Rhaenyra and has a striking resemblance to her. The reader is also bonded with Silverwing. This series will be on my second list, which has the link on my first one that is pinned to the top. @missisjoker I hope this is what you had in mind. Let me know if I'm on the right track. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 7 500+

- Next part: 2/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @jellybeanstacey0519 @ohhdearmargot @vastseamind @strengthandstay @anne-mary-1d @lovelyteenagebeard

- A/N: Yeah, this came way earlier then expected. But you guys liked the idea so much more than I anticipated. So, I've decided to spend last night working on this for you guys. The second part should be out tomorrow. Let me know what you think. I love all of you. ❤️

You stand in the brisk morning air, the cold wind biting at your cheeks as you prepare to mount Silverwing. Her massive form shifts beside you, her silver scales gleaming like molten moonlight against the grey clouds above. You can feel her anticipation under your skin, the bond between you and your dragon humming with unspoken energy. She longs for the sky, to fly north where the winds grow colder and the world harsher.

But you are not ready to take flight—not yet. Not with the anger burning inside you.

"You're being unreasonable," Jacaerys snaps, his voice sharp as he paces before you. He’s dressed for the journey north, his cloak billowing in the wind, but there’s something frantic in his movements, something desperate.

"Unreasonable?" You scoff, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. The sting of betrayal simmers beneath your skin. "You promised me to a man I've never met, Jace! A Northern brute! Without even asking me—"

Jacaerys whirls around, his dark eyes flashing with frustration. "He's not a brute, Y/N. Cregan Stark is an honorable man, more honorable than most in the South. The North would follow him into the very mouth of the abyss if he asked. And he’s given his word to support our mother’s claim. We need his alliance. We need him."

Your lips curl into a sneer, the heat rising in your chest, fueling the fire of your indignation. "If you like him so much, perhaps you should marry him!"

He blinks at you, stunned for a heartbeat, before his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking as he struggles for control. "Don’t be absurd. This isn’t about me. It’s about what’s best for our family, for the realm. You’re Rhaenyra’s daughter—your marriage isn’t a matter of love. It’s a duty."

You feel the words like a slap, the weight of expectation heavy and suffocating, like the iron chains they would use to hold down a dragon. You look at him, your older brother, the one who has always been steadfast, always so sure of himself, and for a moment, you don’t recognize him.

"Is that what you think?" Your voice is cold, but beneath it, there’s a tremor of hurt you can’t quite suppress. "That I’m just a pawn? A piece to be traded for an alliance?"

Jacaerys steps closer, lowering his voice, softening, as though he believes that will calm the storm brewing inside you. "You are not a pawn, Y/N. But you are the blood of the dragon. We all have our roles to play in this war."

"You had no right," you hiss, stepping away from him, your boots crunching in the frost-laden grass. "You had no right to promise me to him. To anyone."

"And what would you have me do?" he counters, his patience fraying. "Our enemies surround us. The Lannisters, the Baratheons, the Hightowers—everyone is closing in. The North is our only hope for a strong ally, someone who can challenge them. Cregan Stark is not some savage; he’s a lord with a sense of duty, of honor. He will treat you with respect."

Your laughter is sharp, bitter, and it echoes off the stones of Dragonstone. "Respect? Is that what you call it? Being shipped off like a prize mare to bear the North's sons?"

Jacaerys' face tightens. "I would never do this if I didn’t believe it was necessary. Cregan is a man of his word. He is strong and kind, not like the men you fear. He lost his wife, Arra, and he’s raising their son alone. He needs a partner, someone who will stand beside him—"

"Then send yourself!" you shout, your voice rising with your fury. "If he’s so wonderful, if he’s the great honorable man you say, then you marry him!"

Jacaerys’ face turns red, his frustration boiling over, but for a moment he says nothing. He looks at you as if he’s trying to find the right words, but you see it—the tension in his shoulders, the anger tightening his mouth. "This isn’t a game, Y/N."

"No, it’s not," you say quietly, your voice suddenly cool. "This is my life. My future. And you’ve sold it without even asking me."

Silence hangs heavy between you, the sound of Silverwing’s wings shifting behind you the only break in the air. The dragon’s molten eyes flick toward Jacaerys, sensing the tension, the mounting storm between siblings.

Jacaerys runs a hand through his hair, exasperation written in every line of his face. "I didn’t do this to hurt you. I did it to protect us. To protect our family. You may not see it now, but Cregan will be good to you. The North respects strength, and you are stronger than any woman I know."

Your throat tightens. You want to scream, to rail against him, but a part of you knows Jace is sincere. He isn’t cruel, but he is blind—blind to what he’s asking of you.

"Do you even hear yourself, Jace?" Your voice trembles with the effort to hold back tears. "You’re asking me to leave everything I’ve ever known, to live in a land of snow and ice with a man I’ve never met, all because you think it will save our family? Do you really believe that’s what mother would want?"

He flinches at the mention of your mother, the memory of her fierce love for her children, for her legacy. But he doesn’t back down. "Mother would want us to win."

You stare at him, your heart pounding, torn between the duty that’s been drilled into you since birth and the yearning for freedom, for control over your own fate. You think of your mother, Rhaenyra, and how she fought for her own place, how she refused to let men dictate her life. And yet here you stand, your fate in the hands of another.

Silverwing lets out a low rumble, her massive form shifting impatiently. She is ready, but you are not.

You turn from Jace, your chest tight with too many emotions to name. "I’m flying north because I have no choice. But know this—I will not be a tool, not for you, not for anyone."

Jace says nothing, watching as you pull yourself onto Silverwing’s back, the cold wind whipping through your hair. You do not look back as you urge her into the sky, the powerful beats of her wings carrying you away from Dragonstone, toward the North and the unknown future that awaits you.

But as you soar higher, the air growing colder with every passing mile, one thought burns in your mind: you will forge your own path, no matter what it costs.

The chill of winter’s breath clung to the stones of Winterfell, seeping into the bones of man and beast alike. Cregan Stark stood before the gates, his dark cloak billowing in the biting wind. Beside him were his bannermen and retainers, a stoic, silent line of Northern strength, faces weathered by years of enduring harsh winters. They had gathered to greet the prince from the South and the bride he had promised—a woman whose name had begun to spread in whispers as far as the Dreadfort and beyond the Last Hearth.

Cregan’s jaw was set, his grey eyes scanning the sky. He’d heard the tales—stories of Rhaenyra Targaryen’s daughter, a woman as wild as the lands beyond the Wall, as fierce as her dragon. He imagined what she might be like. Some said she was a reflection of her mother, Rhaenyra—beautiful, with the blood of Old Valyria running hot in her veins. Others said she was untamable, a dragon in human form.

A woman of fire, sent to a land of ice.

"She’ll be a challenge," Cregan’s cousin, Lord Roderick, muttered beside him, his breath visible in the frigid air. "If the tales are true, she won’t be easy to tame."

Cregan didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t one for gossip, nor did he concern himself with idle rumors. But something about this arrangement unsettled him. When Prince Jacaerys had promised him a wife in exchange for the North’s support, Cregan had not expected the princess herself, a daughter of Rhaenyra. A dragon for a wolf.

A low rumble echoed across the valley then, drawing the attention of every man present. The horses whinnied in distress, stamping their hooves, eyes wide with fear. The air seemed to vibrate with power, an unseen force growing stronger, louder.

“They’re here,” Cregan said quietly, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Two figures appeared in the sky, massive and dark against the pale, snow-laden clouds. The dragons soared over the towering pines of the Wolfswood, their leathery wings beating rhythmically as they approached Winterfell. Cregan felt a rush of awe despite himself. It was not often that dragons graced these cold lands.

The first dragon—Vermax—descended gracefully, his wings cutting through the air like a blade. Prince Jacaerys sat tall upon his mount, his dark hair whipping in the wind. He was the picture of regal authority, his presence commanding respect even from a distance.

But it was the second dragon that drew Cregan’s gaze. Silverwing, an ancient beast whose silver scales glinted in the weak northern sunlight, landed with a thunderous crash. The earth trembled under her weight, sending the horses into a frenzy. Men struggled to calm the beasts, their hands gripping reins tightly.

Upon her back sat the princess.

Even from afar, Cregan could feel her presence, as sharp as a blade drawn from its scabbard. Her silver hair, so much like her dragon’s, fluttered around her face, but it was her eyes that caught his attention. There was fire there—burning, unyielding. And behind that fire, anger. Deep, simmering anger.

She didn’t want to be here.

Cregan’s chest tightened as he watched her dismount with the fluid grace of someone born to command dragons. There was nothing meek or timid in her stance. Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, he saw the ire that burned within her. She resented this, resented him, and the weight of the bargain struck between Jacaerys and himself.

Jacaerys approached first, a polite smile tugging at his lips as he offered a short bow. "Lord Stark," he greeted, his voice smooth but firm. "I bring greetings from my mother, Queen Rhaenyra. We are honored by your hospitality."

Cregan inclined his head in return, his gaze flicking to the princess before returning to Jacaerys. "Winterfell welcomes you both. The North stands ready, as promised."

Jacaerys’ smile widened, but it was the princess who drew closer, her expression cold and distant. She remained silent, her eyes locking onto Cregan’s, challenging him with her defiance. There was no warmth in her, no courtesy of courtly manners. Her posture was rigid, tense, as though she would sooner mount her dragon and fly away than speak a word to him.

"So," Cregan said after a pause, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering, "you are the princess."

She lifted her chin slightly, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a sneer. "It seems I am." Her voice was sharp, each word laced with irritation. She glanced at Jacaerys briefly, her eyes narrowing before returning to Cregan. "Though I wasn’t given much choice in the matter."

Cregan’s brow lifted slightly, but he held his ground. He had expected resistance, had prepared himself for the fire she would bring. But seeing it now, face-to-face, was something else entirely.

"You will find that the North values honor," Cregan replied, his tone measured. "And in the North, we do not force our women into anything against their will. If you find yourself unwilling, you may leave at any time."

Her eyes flashed, the fire behind them flaring. "And yet here I stand, promised to a man I’ve never met, in a land I did not choose to come to. You’ll forgive me if I don’t take kindly to your words of freedom."

Jacaerys stepped forward then, placing a calming hand on his sister’s arm, his expression tight. "Y/N, we’ve spoken of this. Lord Stark—"

"Spare me the speeches, Jace," she snapped, pulling her arm free. "You may speak of duty and honor, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was sold for an alliance."

The words hung heavy in the cold air, and for a moment, no one spoke. The bannermen exchanged uneasy glances, shifting on their feet. Cregan, however, stood firm, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You are not in chains, Princess," he said quietly. "And I do not need a wife who resents her place here. But I will not force your hand. If you stay, it will be your choice."

For the first time, her expression faltered, a flicker of surprise passing through her eyes. She hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected to be given an option. For a long moment, she stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line as though weighing his words.

"Choice," she muttered, her voice low and bitter. "Do we truly have any?"

Cregan said nothing, meeting her gaze evenly. He could see the war within her, the battle between duty and desire, between the freedom she craved and the chains of obligation. He had known from the start that this arrangement would be no simple matter, and now, standing before her, he understood the full extent of the challenge ahead.

Jacaerys cleared his throat, glancing between them. "Perhaps we should retire inside. The journey was long, and Winterfell’s hearths will offer warmth."

Cregan nodded. "Of course. You are both welcome here."

As they made their way toward the gates, Cregan cast one last glance at the princess. She was fire, fierce and wild. But there was more to her than the fury in her eyes. He could see it, even now—beneath the anger and resentment, there was a strength, a will unbroken. The North would test her, but in time, perhaps she would see that the North was not her enemy.

And neither was he.

The godswood was silent, save for the low rustle of wind through the ancient weirwood branches. The red leaves, stark against the snow-dusted ground, seemed to watch the ceremony unfolding below with a solemn, silent approval. The godswood, ancient and sacred, was a strange contrast to the fiery presence of the dragon lurking at its edge. Silverwing's silver scales shimmered faintly in the dappled light, her massive form curled among the trees like a sleeping predator, but her eyes never left you.

You stood at the heart of the godswood, dressed in a gown of deep silver, embroidered with fine, intricate patterns of the sea and sky—waves crashing into clouds, dragons rising from the ocean. The fabric hugged your frame like a second skin, and the heavy velvet of your cloak, the deep blue of House Velaryon, hung from your shoulders, fastened at your neck by a clasp shaped like a dragon in flight. It was regal, commanding, but it felt like a cage. Every stitch, every seam, was a reminder of the duty that had brought you here, bound by your brother’s word and the fragile alliance it promised.

The northern air was cold, biting against your skin, but you barely felt it. The fire in your chest, the resentment bubbling beneath your surface, kept you warm enough. Jacaerys stood to your right, his dark crimson and black cloak billowing softly in the breeze. He was every inch the prince, with his head held high, his Valyrian features stern, but you knew him better than anyone. His eyes flickered with the same determination that had led him to make this match in the first place, but also with a faint shadow of regret—regret for what he’d asked of you, for what he’d forced upon you.

Cregan Stark stood across from you, tall and unflinching, dressed in the black and grey of his house. His broad shoulders bore the weight of a heavy direwolf-fur cloak, and his expression was as cold and impenetrable as the North itself. Yet, as his steel-grey eyes met yours, there was something there, something you hadn’t expected—a quiet respect, an acknowledgment of the fire that burned in you. He wasn’t the brute you’d imagined, but that didn’t change the fact that you were here against your will.

The ceremony proceeded with the familiar words of the old gods, the vows spoken in quiet, reverent tones. You barely heard them, your mind drifting to Silverwing, to the open sky that called to you. This place—Winterfell—was as far from home as you could be. The walls closed in, the cold seeped deeper, and even the dragons were stilled by the weight of it.

“Do you, Y/N of House Velaryon, take Cregan of House Stark as your lord and husband, to honor and serve, in ice and in fire, in winter and in spring?”

The words felt heavy, the weight of them pressing against your chest. You hesitated, your jaw tightening. This wasn’t what you wanted. The fire inside you rebelled against the thought of being tethered to a man you hardly knew, a man from a world of ice and stone.

But duty called. Your mother’s voice echoed in your mind, and Jacaerys’ quiet plea for understanding lingered.

“I do,” you finally said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Cregan’s eyes remained on yours as he stepped forward, his hands strong but gentle as he draped the Stark cloak over your shoulders. It was heavy, lined with direwolf fur, the symbol of the North. The weight of it settled on you like a mantle of cold responsibility, pulling you further from the warmth of the sea, further from the freedom you longed for.

As the vows concluded, and the few gathered bannermen murmured their approval, the procession back to the castle began. You moved stiffly at Cregan’s side, your thoughts miles away, swirling with memories of home and the life you’d left behind.

Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed beside you. Silverwing, her long neck lowering, her molten eyes narrowing as she regarded Cregan curiously. She moved with the grace of an ancient predator, her silver-scaled head nudging closer, as though she were studying him.

Cregan stiffened, his eyes flicking toward the dragon, but he didn’t step back. His hand tightened at his side, his muscles coiled beneath his cloak. You could see the way his jaw clenched, his stoicism an iron mask. Though his expression remained impassive, you knew the truth—he was wary, perhaps even afraid. A dragon, no matter how docile, was still a dragon.

Silverwing’s nose brushed against his shoulder, nudging him with surprising gentleness. Her hot breath steamed in the cold air as she let out a low rumble, something that almost sounded like approval, or…affection?

You narrowed your eyes, your lips tightening in annoyance. Of all the times for Silverwing to show her favor, she chose now, and with him?

“Shoo, beast,” Cregan muttered under his breath, his voice steady, though his hand remained close to the hilt of his sword, just in case. He raised his arm, pushing gently against Silverwing’s massive head, but the dragon didn’t budge at first, her molten eyes fixated on him as though she were weighing his worth.

For a long, tense moment, you watched as Cregan squared off with your dragon. His face betrayed nothing, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. He knew as well as you did that if Silverwing felt the urge, she could reduce him to nothing more than a memory in a matter of moments. Yet, he stood his ground, as unyielding as the land he ruled.

Finally, with a reluctant huff, Silverwing backed off, her tail sweeping through the snow as she turned her gaze toward you. But not before letting out a sound—something disturbingly close to a soft whine.

You blinked, incredulous. Was Silverwing fond of him?

You turned toward your dragon, sharp words slipping from your lips in Valyrian, biting and full of frustration. "Traitor," you whispered fiercely, barely loud enough for anyone but Silverwing to hear.

The dragon's molten eyes flicked toward you, her expression almost indignant as she rumbled softly in response. It was as if she could sense your displeasure, but instead of reacting with the loyalty you expected, Silverwing let out another low, almost affectionate sound, her head turning once more toward Cregan.

Your blood boiled. She had always been loyal to you, reflecting the fire in your heart. Yet here she was, nuzzling up to the man who had become the symbol of everything you resented about this forced marriage. You clenched your fists inside the thick fur cloak Cregan had placed over your shoulders, the weight of it pressing down on you as heavily as the expectations that had led you here.

Cregan, still standing firm though you could tell the encounter unsettled him, raised an eyebrow in your direction. His voice was calm, with a hint of dry humor, as though addressing a curious wolf pup. "She seems to have taken a liking to me, though I doubt that sits well with you."

You glared at him, your lips tightening into a thin line. "Silverwing has poor taste," you snapped, brushing past him, the fabric of your gown sweeping the snow as you walked. "She's never been one for judging character."

Cregan said nothing for a moment, his heavy boots crunching in the snow as he fell into step beside you. His silence was maddening, his cool composure only heightening the frustration gnawing at your insides. You had expected him to show more than just wariness toward your dragon, perhaps even fear, but he hadn’t given in to it. And now, with Silverwing showing him something bordering on favor, it made your already bitter resentment burn even hotter.

"I see the truth behind your eyes, Princess," Cregan finally said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "You’re angry, and rightfully so. This isn’t what you wanted. But the North respects strength, and whether you believe it or not, I am not your enemy."

You stopped in your tracks, your eyes narrowing as you turned to face him. The cold wind whipped through the godswood, sending the red leaves fluttering around you like bloodstained feathers. "Do you think that because you’ve shown some kindness, or because you’ve made no demands of me yet, that I should suddenly be grateful? This is a prison, Lord Stark. A cold, bleak prison where I’ve been sent because of my brother’s decree."

Cregan’s gaze remained steady, his grey eyes holding yours with quiet intensity. "Winterfell is no prison, Princess. You may see it as one now, but I think in time, you’ll find it to be otherwise. You are free to leave if you wish—I've said it before, and I meant it. But should you stay, you’ll be treated with the honor you deserve."

You scoffed, crossing your arms under the weight of the cloak. "Honor. You speak of honor, yet you are content to marry a woman who does not want you, because it benefits you politically."

Cregan’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained calm, unwavering. "And you? Would you refuse to marry because you do not want to fulfill your family’s duty? You and I are alike in that way. We both know what it means to be bound by responsibility."

The words struck a chord in you, though you hated to admit it. You had been raised to understand duty, to know that sacrifices were often necessary for the sake of family and the realm. But this was different. This was your life, your future. And yet, there was a part of you that recognized the truth in Cregan’s words. He had not chosen this either, but he had accepted it with grace that you could not muster.

"Perhaps we are alike," you said slowly, your voice dropping. "But that doesn’t mean I have to like it."

Cregan’s lips quirked, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I would expect nothing less."

The exchange, though still tense, seemed to cool some of the burning rage in your chest. There was a steadiness to Cregan, a quiet strength that you found infuriatingly difficult to hate. But that did not mean you were ready to forgive your brother, or accept your new life with ease. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

As you resumed walking toward the castle, Silverwing let out a soft, almost mournful sound from the godswood. You glanced back at her, your heart twisting with conflicting emotions. She had been your constant companion, your source of freedom, and yet here she was, nudging the man you were supposed to despise.

"Traitor," you muttered again, shaking your head as you continued forward, Cregan by your side.

The gates of Winterfell loomed ahead, dark and imposing, the firelight from within flickering against the cold stone walls. The North may not have been your choice, but now, standing on the threshold of your new life, you realized you would have to navigate this frozen world with all the cunning and strength that the blood of the dragon afforded you.

And perhaps, just perhaps, you would find your own way to bend it to your will.

The great hall of Winterfell was warm, its hearths roaring with fire to push back the northern chill. The scent of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the bitter tang of strong ale and the rich aroma of spiced wine. The long tables were packed with northern lords and their ladies, all toasting and cheering in celebration of the union between the Princess of House Velaryon and Lord Cregan Stark. The sound of their voices blended with the clatter of plates and goblets, rising in a cacophony that should have felt joyous but grated on your nerves.

You sat beside Cregan at the high table, stiff in your seat, the fur-lined Stark cloak still draped around your shoulders. It felt heavy and wrong. Across from you, Cregan’s son, Rickon, was seated, his bright grey eyes wide with awe as he watched the revelry around him. The boy couldn’t have been older than six, with dark hair like his father’s and a mischievous smile that peeked out from behind his solemn expression.

Rickon had been quiet for most of the evening, but now he looked at you with curious eyes, clearly fascinated by the idea of a dragonrider in his home. "My lady," he said, his voice soft and hesitant, "do you really fly on a dragon?"

You turned to him, your irritation melting for a moment at the boy’s innocent curiosity. "I do," you replied, offering a small smile. "Her name is Silverwing. She’s resting in the godswood now."

Rickon’s eyes lit up with wonder, his small hand gripping the edge of the table. "Will I be able to see her? Father says dragons are fearsome, but I’d like to meet one."

You leaned closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you ask nicely, perhaps Silverwing will let you get close. She’s not so fearsome when she likes someone."

The boy grinned, his earlier shyness dissolving, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. But the reprieve was short-lived, as Cregan spoke up beside you, his deep voice cutting through the air.

"Rickon will have plenty of time to meet your dragon," Cregan said, his tone even but his eyes flicking toward you, unreadable. "Though he’ll need to understand that dragons are dangerous creatures, not pets."

You straightened in your chair, bristling at the implication. "Silverwing is no pet, Lord Stark. She’s my companion, and she is only dangerous when she has cause to be."

Cregan raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking into a faint smirk, but there was something colder behind his gaze. "I’ll take your word for it, Princess. Though I suspect the people of Winterfell would appreciate not being roasted in their own hall."

You narrowed your eyes at him, your fingers tightening around the stem of your goblet. "I doubt your halls are warm enough for that to happen," you snapped back, your voice laced with sarcasm. "Perhaps that’s why you need the fire of dragons to melt all this ice."

The tension between you and Cregan was palpable, even amid the noise and laughter of the feast. He met your challenge without flinching, his expression hardening. "Perhaps," he said evenly, "but here in the North, we don’t rely on fire to keep us alive. We endure the cold as we’ve always done."

You leaned closer, your voice dropping so only he could hear, though there was no warmth in your tone. "I didn’t come here to endure. And I certainly didn’t come here to freeze."

Cregan’s gaze was steady, unyielding, but he said nothing in response. For a moment, the two of you simply stared at each other, neither willing to back down. The flickering firelight cast shadows on his face, making him look more like a wolf in the dim glow. You felt your frustration bubbling up once more, the weight of everything pressing down on you—the forced marriage, the cold, this unfamiliar life.

But then, a voice from the tables interrupted your silent standoff. "The bedding!" one of the bannermen shouted, his voice slurred with drink. Others quickly joined in, their cheers rising in volume as they pounded their fists on the tables. "To the bedding ceremony!"

The call spread through the hall like wildfire, and suddenly all eyes were on you and Cregan. You felt the color drain from your face as the implications of the chant washed over you. The idea of being paraded to bed with Cregan, in front of all these men, made your stomach turn.

Cregan, too, seemed to stiffen at the noise, his face tightening as he glanced around at his bannermen, their enthusiasm for tradition clear. But you saw something else in his expression—something that surprised you. He wasn’t pleased, nor did he seem to relish the idea of the bedding ceremony. If anything, he looked just as displeased as you felt.

"No," Cregan said firmly, standing from his seat, his voice cutting through the din like a blade. The hall fell quiet, the lords and ladies turning to him in confusion. "There will be no bedding ceremony tonight."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, but Cregan’s gaze remained fixed, unyielding. "The princess and I will retire when we choose. I will not have her paraded through the halls like some prize for you to gawk at. This is a union of honor, not spectacle."

His words were met with a mixture of disappointment and begrudging respect. The lords who had been calling for the bedding ceremony fell silent, though a few still exchanged glances, their faces flushed with drink and unspoken protests. Cregan turned to you, his expression softer now, though still guarded.

You were surprised, though you tried to hide it. Of all the things you had expected from him, this was not one of them. He had spared you the humiliation, something you hadn’t thought he would do.

"Thank you," you muttered under your breath, barely audible above the crackling fire and the low murmur of conversation. It wasn’t a warm thanks, nor was it filled with any sense of relief—just a begrudging acknowledgment of what he had done.

Cregan nodded once, his eyes flicking briefly to Rickon, who had been watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. Then, turning back to you, he offered a hand. "Come. We should retire. The hall will quiet soon enough."

You hesitated, staring at his offered hand, before reluctantly taking it. His grip was firm, but not harsh, and you allowed him to lead you through the throng of lords and ladies. As you walked, you felt the eyes of the room on you, but there was no jeering, no laughter. Only silence and the crackling of the fire.

Rickon followed closely, his small feet shuffling against the stone floor, and though the evening had been tense, you felt a small warmth for the boy. As the three of you left the hall, the sound of the feast faded behind you, replaced by the quiet, muffled howling of the wind outside Winterfell’s walls.

The corridors of Winterfell were dimly lit, the torches casting flickering shadows along the stone walls as Cregan led you through the cold, winding passageways. The air felt heavy, thick with the weight of the evening, but the noise of the great hall had finally faded, leaving only the echo of your footsteps. Cregan’s hand was still at your elbow, his touch gentle but firm as he guided you deeper into the castle.

You were tense, your body rigid, every muscle taut with the emotions you had been holding back since the ceremony. The weight of the Stark cloak hung around your shoulders, but it was more than that—the weight of duty, of expectations, of a life you hadn’t chosen, bore down on you with every step.

At last, he stopped in front of a heavy oak door. The thick wood was carved with simple designs, its iron handle cold to the touch. Cregan released your arm, stepping back slightly as if giving you space. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the unspoken understanding between you.

"These are your chambers," he said quietly, his deep voice low in the silence. "I thought it best for you to have your own space. You’ll need time to adjust... to everything." He glanced at you briefly before turning his gaze back to the door. "I won’t impose myself upon you, not tonight, nor any night until you wish it."

The relief that swept over you was unexpected, but it was there nonetheless. The tension in your shoulders loosened, though only slightly. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be bound to this man, to this place. But at least, for now, you had this small mercy.

You looked at him, your lips pressed into a thin line, searching for the right words. It took a moment before you could speak. "Thank you," you muttered, the words awkward on your tongue. You didn’t mean to be ungrateful, but the bitterness in your heart tainted even this gesture of kindness. "For this."

Cregan’s eyes softened, though his expression remained stoic. "I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I hope, in time, you’ll find it less burdensome." He paused, his gaze meeting yours with a strange mixture of patience and understanding. "Goodnight, Princess."

With that, he stepped away with his son in tow, leaving you alone in the flickering torchlight. You watched him retreat down the hallway with Rickon, his tall figure and boy's smaller one, both disappearing into the shadows before turning toward the door.

You pushed it open, stepping into your new chambers. The room was dim, lit only by a few candles set on a wooden table near the hearth, and a small fire crackled quietly in the grate. The furnishings were simple but finely made—a large bed with thick furs draped across it, a sturdy chair by the fire, and a small window that looked out over the courtyard below. The cold draft slipped in through the cracks in the stone, but the warmth of the fire did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep inside you.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the door behind you, the latch clicking softly into place. Alone at last, the tension you had been holding onto all evening began to unravel, bit by bit. The firelight danced across the stone walls, but it did nothing to lift the weight that had settled in your chest.

You moved slowly to the bed, shrugging off the Stark cloak and tossing it onto the chair. It felt too heavy, too suffocating. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared into the flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

And then it came—the overwhelming, crushing wave of emotion you had been fighting back all night.

You had been strong. You had kept your composure, had held your head high even when everything inside you screamed for freedom. But now, in the quiet of your chambers, with no one watching, the dam broke.

Silent tears began to fall, hot and bitter as they streaked down your cheeks. You hadn’t cried in front of your brother, nor in front of Cregan, but now, alone, you allowed yourself to grieve. For what you had lost. For what had been taken from you.

You thought of Dragonstone, of the sea crashing against its black shores, the salty wind that had always carried a sense of freedom with it. You thought of your mother, Rhaenyra, her fierce love and unyielding spirit. She had fought so hard for everything she had—her throne, her children—and yet here you were, far from her, bound to a place you did not belong. Would she have wanted this for you?

And then you thought of your brothers. Jacaerys, with his sense of duty and stubbornness, always trying to do what was right, even when it hurt. You knew he thought he was helping you, securing your future, protecting the family. But it felt like a betrayal. You had followed him into the North, trusting him, only to find yourself trapped in a cage of ice and stone.

Your thoughts drifted to Lucerys and Joffrey, their youthful energy and the laughter that had once filled the halls of Dragonstone. Would you ever see them again? Or would they be mere memories, fading like the warmth of the fire as you sat in this cold, unfamiliar place?

A soft sob escaped your lips, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you silently mourned the life you had left behind.

In the quiet of the room, with only the crackling of the fire to keep you company, you allowed yourself to feel every ounce of sorrow, every pang of regret. The tears came faster, and for a long time, you sat there, letting the grief pour out of you.

Eventually, when the tears had slowed and your chest ached with the effort of crying, you wiped your eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. You were still here. Still trapped in this fate you didn’t want.

But for tonight, at least, you were alone. And for now, that was the only solace you could cling to.

The cold wind bit at your face as you raced across the snowy courtyard, your heart pounding with desperation. The distant silhouette of Vermax, Jacaerys’ dragon, loomed against the grey sky, his wings shifting in anticipation as Jace made his final preparations to depart. You could see him there, standing tall and resolute, his back to you as he adjusted his saddle. Each step you took felt like a battle, your feet sinking into the snow, but you pushed forward, the icy air burning in your lungs.

"Jace!" you called out, your voice cracking as you approached. He didn't turn, and panic surged in your chest. "Jacaerys!"

This time he heard you, his head turning slightly, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. He kept his focus on Vermax, brushing off your distress like it was a mild inconvenience.

You finally caught up to him, grabbing his arm, your fingers curling into the fabric of his cloak with a desperation that you couldn't hide. "You can’t just leave me here," you pleaded, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out in a rush. "Jace, please. I’ll die here. The dragons… they die in the North. I can’t stay."

Jacaerys finally looked at you, his brows furrowed in frustration. "Y/N, stop this." His voice was stern, but there was a weariness in his tone, as if he had expected this but hoped it wouldn’t come. "You’re being dramatic. You won’t die here. You’ll adapt, just like you always do. You’re strong, stronger than you think."

You shook your head vehemently, tears already welling up in your eyes. The cold air stung your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of your tears, but you didn’t care. "You don’t understand," you whispered, your grip on his arm tightening as if holding onto him would somehow change everything. "I don’t belong here. I’m not built for this place, for this cold, for these people. And Silverwing—she’ll suffer here. Dragons don’t thrive in the North. They wither. And so will I."

Jacaerys’ face softened, but only slightly. He let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "You’re stronger than this. You’ve always done your duty, Y/N. You’ve faced worse than cold. You’ll survive this, too." His tone was matter-of-fact, as if it was that simple, as if this place hadn’t already started to crush you.

His words cut through you, and you pulled back slightly, your hands falling to your sides. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t. The North was foreign, hostile in ways that went beyond its cold. It was a land of ice, of silence, where the warmth and fire of home felt like a distant memory.

"Do you even care?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you regretted it as soon as you saw the flash of hurt cross his face.

Jace took a step closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder now, his expression softening as he realized just how much this was breaking you. "Of course I care," he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. "But this is what’s best for us, for the family. Cregan will protect you, and in time, you’ll find your place here. I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone."

The tears spilled over then, no longer restrained. You hated this, hated that you were crumbling in front of him, hated that you felt so weak. "You’re leaving me here," you choked out, barely able to speak around the lump in your throat. "You’re abandoning me."

Jacaerys frowned, pulling you into a hug despite your resistance. You felt his arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you wanted to push him away, to scream at him. But you didn’t. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, your body shaking with silent sobs.

"I’m not abandoning you," he murmured into your hair, his voice rough with emotion. "I’m giving you a chance to do something great, something important. You’re more than just our sister. You’re part of the realm’s future. I’m sorry you feel this way, but this is bigger than either of us."

You sniffled, pulling back just enough to look up at him. His eyes, those familiar brown eyes, were filled with both sadness and resolve. He wasn’t going to change his mind, no matter how much you begged. "What about Mother?" you whispered. "What would she say if she knew you were leaving me like this?"

His expression faltered, the mention of your mother clearly cutting him deep, but he held firm. "She would want you to do your duty, just as she’s always done hers. You’re more like her than you realize."

You shook your head, wiping at your tears, but it was no use. They kept coming. "I don’t feel like her. I feel... lost."

Jace sighed, his hand cupping the side of your face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "You’ll find your way. You always do." He kissed your forehead, his touch tender but brief. "I have to go."

You watched in silence as he turned away, walking toward Vermax with a steady, determined stride. The dragon’s massive head lifted, its green eyes gleaming as it sensed its rider’s approach. Jacaerys mounted with practiced ease, settling into the saddle, his gaze fixed ahead as if the weight of leaving you behind was already something he had accepted.

"Jace!" you called out one last time, your voice breaking. But he didn’t look back.

The great wings of Vermax unfurled, casting a long shadow over the snow-covered ground as the dragon prepared to take flight. You stood frozen, your tears falling faster now, watching helplessly as your brother, the last tie to home, prepared to leave you in this strange, unwelcoming place.

With a powerful beat of his wings, Vermax lifted into the sky, the gust of wind from his takeoff sending snow swirling around you. You watched, numb, as the dragon rose higher and higher, carrying Jacaerys back to the place you longed to return to—Dragonstone.

The sound of his wings beating faded into the distance, and soon, they were nothing more than a dark speck against the pale sky. You stood there in the middle of the open field, the cold seeping deeper into your bones, your tears freezing on your cheeks as you watched him disappear.

Alone, you fell to your knees in the snow, the icy ground biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. You were alone now, truly alone. And the weight of that realization crushed you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Jacaerys was gone.

And you were left behind.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

‘You left me for Mary?’

On the one hand, it’s obvious why Ed is upset by this. It is framed as a betrayal, an infidelity, directly in conflict with what Stede and Ed shared previously, however briefly.

But I think there’s a little more to this.

Ed’s angry. Because to Ed, Stede left him for a lie. Stede’s sexuality is complex, but however it can be defined, it does not involve a cis woman. Ed knows this. He knows this. You only have to observe the incredulity on Ed’s face when Anne Bonny says Stede kissed her. He is flummoxed and bewildered and so, so hurt by learning Stede returned to Mary.

The hurt runs much deeper than Stede’s single act. Stede has colluded with society’s norms after appearing to reject them, social mores which actively hurt someone such as Ed - I trusted you.

Ed knows he lives in a comphet society, even if on the fringes, within a pirate subculture with differing norms and values. It’s the reason why Ed attacks the wedding party. It’s the reason why he keeps the cake-toppers and attempts to imprint a version of himself over the top of the bride. Ed tries desperately to erase the smooth-faced, upper-class white woman, the perfect companion to the smooth-faced, upper-class white man. The thing he can never be. It’s what society upholds as correct sexual, emotional and moral behaviour. We hear the words of the vicar at the wedding on the ship clear as day: ‘The natural condition of humanity is base and vile. It’s the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves [white, hetro, upper class] to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony’.

Ed cannot belong to a man like Stede. Ed is too male, too brown, too low-born. He is part of the ‘rabble’. After painting himself upon the bride, he pushes both figures out of the broken window into the sea. To kill the thing that can never be, the ‘base and vile’ want within him. A want that is condemned. And by pushing the bride figurine into the sea, he foreshadows the death of the man who would ever think such a love and life could be his. Himself. It is a truly desperate moment of self-loathing.

But Stede does come back. His actions did not occur in isolation. He is as much a victim of a comphet society as Ed, despite some of the privileges being white and upper-class bring. He rejects finally the comphet grand narrative lie of his upbringing and returns to the truth of his heart and being.

Stede finally tells the too male, too brown, too low-born Ed that actually, he is endgame for him. Not within a society which will crush them, but in a world they can build and create for themselves.

This can be whatever we want it to be.

Eventually, eventually, Ed heals enough to listen and believe a little, and see enough of a future in which he can simply be loved by Stede and love Stede in return.

Which is one of the many, many reasons this show will break and remake my heart forever.

[amuseoffyre]

Things worth remembering:

All Stede knows about Ed's breakdown is that it was because of him (You broke him/he took my leg cos I mentioned your name), He doesn't know about Ed's other trauma aside from his dad and while he knows Ed is disillusioned with pirating, he doesn't know the specifics about why.

Ed tends to speak in metaphors and while Stede tries to understand them, it's clear that sometimes he's missing the mark. Sometimes Ed isn't even sure of the metaphors himself, but once he has them, he holds onto them - the fish thing has got him especially.

And the thing is that Ed's only just learned to sit with himself in episode 5 and it's overwhelming him. At the beginning of 6, he's the stillest and quietest we've seen him and is gazing out to sea while having flashbacks to things he's done and people he's hurt (hello 1x09 callback).

And the thing is he's okay at the start of 7. He's made a decision about shedding the Blackbeard stuff. He doesn't say anything to anyone and he's ok until Jackie points out Stede is the rising star just when Ed wants out

He doesn't begrudge Stede being excited and happy with his new fame. He is afraid of what his presence has led Stede to: the conversation with Jackie is very much his "you defile beautiful things" moment, especially his presence brought Ned to Stede ("It's me you want").

He also doesn't understand why Stede killed Ned because Stede bottled up his trauma like his love letters. He doesn't even know why Stede a) became a pirate or b) went back to Mary, especially since Stede never actually told him where he'd been directly. He had to hear it from Anne - and Stede is betrayed by that as well ("I told you that in confidence")

Right now, he's feeling unmoored by his own identity and now Stede has taken a step that has fully changed him as a person too and dragged him straight back into the heart of piracy. He tells Jackie he wants out and she asks if Stede knows that and Ed's face just drops and he whispers "shit".

And he spends of the rest of the day thinking and quiet and realises that to process any of this mess, he needs to be away from the pirate world for a bit so he can get his head on straight because now it's roaring back in for him. He sits, he thinks, he realises he needs that space - he should speak to Stede but he tried that the day before and Stede still killed Ned.

Stede also lashes out, which definitely doesn't help. He's right. Ed is panicking, but Stede is also missing so many little clues. Ed never told him about dropping his leathers and Stede just sees him as Ed in other clothes. He doesn't understand the significance, even when everyone around them realises something is off. If even the Swede picks up on it, you know it's an obvious flag.

They both need to use their words and explain wtf is happening with both of them, but they are also both ridiculously traumatised by their past experience. Ed is afraid he's unlovable and now Stede is talking down his coping mechanism, so maybe he's right and Ed-as-Ed is unlovable, while Stede has been told his entire life he isn't enough, so becoming the ultimate pirate should be the win he's been looking for, only Ed isn't happy and Ed is leaving him, so maybe it's him that isn't enough after all.

They are both tangled up so much in their own histories and don't know enough about each others and that's why they keep lashing out and hurting each other so much - they each don't realise what they're saying is a different kind of weapon to the other.

[finleycannotdraw]

okay so.

Hell's Lust Room.

something about it is making me insane.

something about edwin wearing white clothes, not even stained with his own blood anymore, entering that room and being groped and dragged down, and then shouting for charles to help him.

something about how edwin died in edwardian england, sacrificed to hell because of queerness in some form (simon's internalized homophobia + "mary ann" being a derogatory term for gay men in that time), having zero positive relationships in regards to his sexuality. he had his sexual awakening when the cat king decided to prey on that aspect of him for his punishment, and then later tells monty that he'd thought "those feelings were never to be spoken of."

something about queer sexuality being shamed and silenced so much, we hurt ourselves with it. edwin not fully believing what he says to simon, because simon is able to move on with that forgiveness and edwin gets, once again, dragged to the ground in the lust room. instead of fully realizing that being queer in itself isn't wrong or disgusting, i think that his talk with simon is edwin becoming aware of his own shame and guilt and self-punishment, but he still hasn't entirely let go of it, and i argue this because of—you guessed it—the lust room.

something about edwin growing up being told that sexuality, especially homosexuality, is disgusting and never to be talked about. something about him then having these awakenings and realizations about himself and his feelings for his best friend, which relate specifically and intrinsically to sexuality. and almost immediately after having the realizations that his sexuality is real, he is attracted to men, and he is attracted to his best friend (and the subliminal guilt that entails), he is faced with a viscerally horrifying room full of blood and gore and sex.

something about edwin, wearing all white, being grabbed by the mass of bloody hands. during this scene, he isn't even covered in his own blood anymore. the only blood on him now is what is smeared onto him by the writhing, mindless souls being punished for their desires. what is he supposed to think? in this scene, he becomes literally stained by sexuality, expressed in an animalistic manner. charles doesn't get pulled so roughly into the mess, because edwin is the only one still actively processing the very concept of sexuality, and he hasn't entirely unlearned what he was taught about his own sexuality.

something about edwin's sexuality—not necessarily his homosexuality, just his sexuality—constantly being used to manipulate him. the cat king gets into his head by confronting him with physical attraction. monty very innocently flirts with him, then kisses him, and then leads him into a trap. simon killing him because he had feelings for edwin and didn't know how to handle them. edwin's sexuality has only ever been used against him, and during every single instance, other people have been hurt. knowing this, is it really wrong to assume that a small part of edwin probably saw the horror in that room and thought 'i belong here too'??

AND HE REACHES FOR CHARLES. who drags him out of that gory orgy (...gorgy??) (well. move the G to the front of orgy and you have gory. do with that what you will.) without a second thought. edwin loves charles, and is attracted to charles, and charles has never judged him or shamed him for that. so charles is the only person who could've possibly pulled edwin free.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm forever losing my mind about s2e4, because I don't know about you all, but I expected them to drag the conflict out and I was so relieved they didn't.

It would have been such an easy choice to make Ed and Stede have lots of misunderstandings and accidentally hurt each other further. It would've been so easy I was expecting them to do it, even though I didn't like it or think it fit very well for Ed and Stede.

But they didn't take the path of easy conflict! The writers of OFMD fucking care so much about their story and their characters and it shows. Yes, Ed and Stede are tense with each other at first. Yes, they need to talk like adults. Yes, they're both emotionally constipated so that'll be tough. But they do it!

And the reason this works so well is because it makes it so immediately obvious that Ed and Stede just click so well that it's really hard for them to be upset with each other. "Can we not do this now?" Stede asks after Ed tells Anne and Mary how he "completely boned it" near the start of the episode, to which Ed responds "can do it any time I like!" Already, even with so little talking, they both seem to take it completely as a given that they're not going to just disappear from each other's lives.

And, yes, Ed gives Stede clear boundaries. He does not want to hear an explicit love confession yet, he makes it clear that he was already all in and Stede broke that trust, but he's deeply charmed and comforted when Stede shifts to "I love everything about you" instead. My absolute favorite moment this episode is after Anne and Mary tease Ed about his beard, and Stede tells him he likes it, and Ed gives him the softest little "thank you." He doesn't even want to look at Stede in that moment, but still, even after Stede has hurt him so badly and he doesn't yet have context for that, Ed doesn't doubt for a second that Stede's compliment is genuine or worry that Stede is trying to manipulate him back into his good graces with compliments.

And once they're starting to get on the same page with each other? Fuck, they're just so in sync so quickly, immediately a team when Anne and Mary start having a go at them. They're constantly glancing at each other, making little faces at each other, checking in on the other's reaction.

I don't doubt that Ed and Stede are going to butt heads every now and again. They both have big personalities and are very emotional and they'll know exactly what'll hurt most to say when they fight. But they both know they're completely safe with each other and they'd never mean to hurt each other. They're gonna be just fine.

[hadesoftheladies]

FEMALE MOVIE/TV RECS (PART 2 / HISTORICAL FICTION/NON-FICTION)

got inspired from a recommendation post so decided to make a list of movies and shows with female-centric stories/female protagonists. since i can't post all of the genres in one post, i'll split it into multiple posts and y'all can save or add to the list as you wish. (disclaimer: i have watched most of these, but i only know about the existence of others. not every movie/show on these lists will be my recommendation. my recommendations will be beneath the list with reasons. also some of these are way better than others in terms of storytelling/performance--which is why i'll list my faves separately):

Common Themes of Media in the List:

-Workplace/general sexist discrimination

-Husband being pieces of shit and whiners

-Strong emphasis on sisterhood

-Romance plays a large part (both hetero and homo)

-Female genius and triumph

-Scheming mothers (always scheming)

-Grief, loss, and growth

-Motherhood is difficult but we pull through TM

HAVEN'T WATCHED:

Mozart's Sister

Lessons in Chemistry

The Conductor

Lizzie

Radioactive

Cable Girls

The Great

The Queen's Gambit

Britannia

Harriet

Mary Queen of Scots

ONES I LOVEDDDD:

A League of Their Own (9/10) (a favorite!)

Hidden Figures (8/10)

The Woman King (8/10) (a favorite!)

Anne With An E (9/10) (a favorite!)

Dickinson (8.5/10)

The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel (9/10) (a favorite!)

Gentleman Jack (8/10)

The Gilded Age (7.5/10)

HONORABLE (NON-LISTED MENTIONS)

The English (an english woman teams up with a native american cowboy to take revenge on the men who hurt them)

The World to Come (two women isolated by the wilderness and their husbands fall in love)

The Pursuit of Love

Colette

PERSONAL NOTES:

The Buccaneers is pretty feminist and wholesome, although oftentimes childish and full of Netflix cliches (even though it's an Apple TV original). It tries very hard to be Dickinson and Little Women but is a far cry away from Dickinson's edge and fierceness and Little Women's maturity and realism. It's more interested in appealing to Bridgerton audiences and its worse for it. But it's still full of the nice stuff, like strong female friendships and sisterhoods. Ooh, and lesbians! It's adamantly female-centric.

As for Little Women, I prefer the 90s version with Winona Ryder, but Greta did more justice to the source material than Louisa May Alcott herself in the new version.

The Book Thief and The World to Come are also tragedies, so you know. Ammonite, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Summerland and The Favourite are lesbians and bisexuals in their full glory, although all of them have vastly different tones (The Favourite is a dark comedy, I believe).

Speaking of The Favourite, Mary & George is like that but it's men vying for the affections of the king. Don't get it twisted though, Mary, George's mom, is the protagonist and primary mover of the show. It starts and ends with her. Also, more lesbianism! (I don't get tired of pointing that out.)

Belle is one of the few autobiographical historical fictions of a black woman. My dad and I love it. It, however, does not surpass The Woman King. The Woman King is like . . . one of the best historical movies on African women I've ever watched! Or just in general! It gives so much agency to African people in the colonial age and tells the story with nuance and perspective--it is a decolonized view on the slave trade that places West African people at the center. It's pretty intense and gory, though. Like it's dark, but like the performances are insanely good, and so is the story. Real life Wakanda and all that!

[magical-girl-coral]

I did the mistake of entering a blog that unironically reblogs confessional discourse posts and read a lot of stupid takes so here's me debunking them, I guess:

Why didn't the Bad Kids reach out to the Rat Grinders? - They did. Multiple times. The Rat Grinders were mean to them back so the Bad Kids dropped that plan. Ivy was racist about Mazey to hurt Fabian's feelings. Adaine called Oisin cool in one episode and then saw him murder Buddy the next. Fig and Kristen tried to recruit Mary Ann several times and she didn't give a fuck. Ruben fully tried to antagonize Fig when he first saw her because he could. They don't owe them to stick to people who were sucky to them.

From a mechanical standpoint, Brennan did this so they players won't waste time on them and move on to solve the mystery. From a story perspective, it was because the Rat Grinders refused to be saved. They were too brainwashed by rage and they refused to let it go. Even in the last fucking battle Fig tried to reach out as Wanda Childa and Ruben almost killed her with a ninth level spell. I'd say they were pretty fucking patient if you ask me.

The Bad Kids were too mean to the Rat Grinders in the final battle! - No, they were not. Oisin taunted Adaine about her greatest fears before trying to murder the entire student body. Ivy was racist in her last moments and called Mazey "objectively ugly." Ruben was an asshole to everyone he meets. Kipperlilly tried to get them all expelled since episode three. The Rat Grinders sucked as people when they were villains and the Bad Kids had every right to lose their shit.

Fig was too cruel to Ruben. Getting into his dreams was insane - One, Ruben was a villain NPC that won't stop threatening her party. She entered his dreams after he tried getting them kicked out of school by offering them drugs. Pete entered Kingston's dream palace after he threatened to take Pete if he gets out of line again. When PCs get threatened, they act out. Secondly, this is how the team finds out about devil's honey, one of the more important discoveries they've had yet. Her entering his dreams worked.

Thirdly, shatter star Ruben was a creep that dated his fans (an extremely uneven power dynamic) and then made songs out of being toxic in those relationships. Sandra Lynn, Fig's mother, had her life ruined by a man that tricked her into a toxic relationship with an uneven power dynamic. Insane that no one made this connection yet.

How could the Bad Kids kill them when they were forced into being Shatter Starred? - This one pisses me off the most because of how much this is based on hindsight. The Bad Kids didn't know the Rat Grinders were forced into the ritual. They canonically knew few things:

The Rat Grinders joined a rage ritual after their sophomore year spring break adventure

They almost definitely killed their cleric Lucy Frostblade

They famously hated the Bad Kids since forever.

They never went on real adventures and instead grind rats for their first year and then were power leveled by two teachers

Not once was it hinted none of them wanted to commit to the ritual. It was a popular fan theory but that's it. The only one who evidently didn't was Lucy and Yolanda and they found their bodies in the forest with runes written on their bones so they couldn't be brought back.

Isn't it weird how the Bad Kids did a 180 and asked the Rat Grinders to be brought back once the battle was done? - No. They only found out at the very last minute that the only one who did the ritual willingly was Kipperlilly after she died and her lack of a scar was revealed. This was at at the very end of the season finale. Of course the Bad Kids felt bad after they put 2 and 2 together and asked them to be brought back, they were the same way about Ragh and Awelyn when they found out more about their backstories.

It's so shitty of Brennan to not delve into any of the Rat Grinders' backstories - We still don't know if Jawbone is Tracker's biological uncle or not. We don't know if Sandra Lynn's family supported her after the scandal or not. We don't know the name of Ragh's father or any of the mothers' maiden names. A lot of NPCs in Fantasy High have a shit of information missing because only the plot relevant stuff comes up. Some NPCs are more relevant than others, that's just how it is.

I remember when people used to make forums to theorize about a character's past. We made OCs and new cities out of fun when the creators didn't. Where's the fucking joy, man? Where is the fucking whimsy?

I bid you all adieu with this:

Get in the fucking transcripts, for the love of god.

[mandoriana]

Just some headcanon I have about Edwin Payne.

Edwin had two younger sisters, one called Elvira Payne and the other called Edith Payne, both were twins and were six years old when Edwin died.

(Elvira and Edith Payne)

He also had an older brother named Enrique Foster Payne, who no longer lived with the family.

(Enrique Payne)

Edwin was not close to his older brother, the two were only a few years apart, but Enrique disliked Edwin for being "too fem" or "too beautiful".

Enrique studied at the same boarding school as Edwin and, a year before finishing school, he told the older boys that his brother was a mary ann and that he loved playing with dolls with his sisters.

Neither of Edwin's parents really showed interest in what he did, but his father always praised his intelligence and his mother always praised his politeness, both of which are things that Edwin strived to maintain even after years in hell.

Edwin didn't like people or animals, but there was an orange cat that roamed his house and appeared every night at his window, Edwin fed and looked after the feline, the name he gave the cat was Tom, unfortunately he never saw the animal after he was sent to boarding school.

(Cat Tom)

His mother was called Arabella and his father was called Edgar.

(Arabella and Edgar Payne)

Edwin is autistic, but as he is already dead, some more physical aspects no longer affect him, for example, being sensitive to bright lights or loud noises, feeling discomfort with certain textures…

Edwin admired his mother and sisters' clothes, and always felt embarrassed about it.

Before his sisters were born, Edwin and his mother were closer, they painted pictures together, practiced the piano, went shopping together, even gardened, she treated him as if he were a daughter, as she always wanted to have girls.

Edwin is gay and gender fluid.

His favorite flowers are Forget-Me-Nots, they were his sisters' favorites too.

The only people who suffered from Edwin's death were Elvira and Edith, twins did not understand why his disappearance was an "act of god".

Edwin said terrible things before learning to live in a society completely different from his own. Really bad things that sometimes made Charles stop and look at his friend in horror before explaining how bad what Edwin said was.

Once Edwin understood how evil and prejudiced he to be, he would spend the next few days ashamed of himself and apologizing to any minority he offended with his words.

All the slang he knows is thanks to Charles.

"Handjob", "Manage" and any other current word that refers to sex or libidinous acts are always strange to Edwin, not because he is innocent, just because his only companion for 30 years was Charles and Charles is a defender of the honor of his friend, so he would never say such vulgar obscenities in front of Edwin, mainly because he knows he will be questioned and will have to explain it to him.

Edwin was considered rare and valuable in hell, many demons wanted his soul because he didn't belong there, and this led to Edwin being used as a bargaining chip several times before ending up in the "Doll house".

His notebook was something he took from one of the rooms in the "Doll house" so the pages never run out, and he can always use the notebook even after almost 100 years with it.

His soul is very strong thanks to the amount of pain he suffered in hell, things that would hurt normal ghosts have done nothing to Edwin unless it is a much greater amount.

He is one of the few ghosts capable of using magic, as spells cause a lot of pain since they require excess spiritual energy.

In 1990 Charles got a record player, Edwin taught Charles dance moves and Charles taught him some. When they weren't playing board games for fun, they were dancing.

Explaining to Edwin how Michael Jackson turned white was the hardest thing Charles did in all his afterlife years.

Edwin allowed himself to wear a dress once, then Niko offered to wear a suit, they didn't most it to anyone, but they had fun together in a small parade.

Although they didn't get along well at first, Edwin and Crystal are friends, whenever she has a female problem, like menstrual cramps, he offers to get her cocaine. (She loves it!)

Only Crystal can speak ill of Edwin, she will destroy heaven and earth if anyone says anything about him.

Crystal, Edwin and Niko always have an all-girls party, sometimes Edwin uses his "Niko's Aunt" disguise to pretend to be the mother of one of the girls when they need it, for example, he once used this disguise to talk to a Crystal's teacher who claimed that she was cheating (she was), although he himself didn't approve of Crystal's cheating he made a big show of stating that he would bring down the whole school if the teacher didn't apologize to Crystal and admit that she deserved the A+.

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TRAILER THOUGHTS AND RAMBLES POST™

Woo boy this is going to be a long one, and I mean, A LONG ONE LMAO. And, of course, all in good fun; i simply just Have To Scream and Incessantly Ramble. So, if you'd like to scream along with me, and read through an ESSAY OF THOUGHTS HERE SHDKJSDHS-

I just have to start things off with my babygirl. With the babygirlest of babygirls. LOOK at that pining. INSANE levels of pining. "When will my husband return from the war" levels of it, quite frankly PFFF. And with the hair back and the slut strands out too like???

I will say, it's very interesting to see him pining like this out in the open. I very much expected him to say locked away in his cabin most of the time, and stay entirely masked whenever he's out. But it seems like he makes STEPS towards healing rather early into the season, as the Kraken Getup seems to drop pretty quick. So, I'm very interested to know how that'll play into his dynamic with other characters (Fang, for example, seems to take notice, based on the comment he makes in the next screenie).

regardless, babygirl you're so strong and beautiful and i'm wrapping you in a blanket, kissing you on the forehead, and express shipping your man RIGHT into your arms. it'll get better, i promise.

but no really i'm going insane because like...just when edward teach couldn't get anymore beautiful, he really decides to pull up with a MESSY BUN???

HIIIIIII FANGY HI FRENCHIE HELLLOOOO MY SWEETHEARTS <3

I don't talk about Fang nearly as much as I should because I love him so much. I think getting a hug from him would Heal Me, actually. Like please hsdjkss he's so sweet- "I've never seen Blackbeard like this 🥺." CAN I GET HIM A PUPPY? I'M GETTING HIM A PUPPY.

Also please are they eating cake hsdksjks. ARE THEY EATING WEDDING CAKE. Imagine your raid is to crash a wedding, steal cake toppers, and then eat what's left of the wedding cake jskdhsdjkls. DREAM JOB???

AND THEN THIS. HOOOOO BOY. HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY.

when i tell y'all i am Foaming At The Mouth over this. Like, it obviously guts me to see Stede crying, but it makes me SO intrigued to know what made him come to the more stark realization, what made him flip from optimistic and bitchy to more somber and pained.

There SEEMS to be some sort of shift sometime around when he sees Ed's wanted poster, because there's that shot of him looking melancholic in the rain. But it doesn't quite seem as stark as THIS.

It makes me wonder if it's a gradual assembly of puzzle pieces, ie finding out about the marooning, then Lucius, then Ed's scourge across the Caribbean, etc etc. And it slooooowly dawns on him that his decision to leave in order to keep Ed happy ended up doing EXACTLY the opposite.

OR, I wonder if this is following the reunion—a PAINFUL one at that. Like, maybe he still was going into it a bit idyllic, and was holding onto the hope that it would still be alright...only for Ed to react poorly/in a way he never anticipated to see. He went into it maybe with a bit of anxiety, but ultimately leaned on the denial...only to have all the fears confirmed.

Or maybe it's a mixture of both. But either way, it's SO so interesting to see him have to SIT with it all. And even though it hurts to see HIM hurt, I'm actually very glad they addressed this and made him feel the heavier weight.

...Only to transition right into silliness here with this shot dHJKSDKLS. ed babe listen i get it. i Get It. i'm right there with you, babe.

BUT ALSO, makes me wonder what he was smoking in his pipe beforehand. Or maybe it was the transition from pipe to a straight BLUNT that got him shdjksd. Or MAYBE it was just ~*~the sapphic kush~*~ that took him out PFFFF. wlw on mlm violence idk.

SPEAKING of which...

here we go, lesbians. here we go, lesbians, come on. oH MY GOD, LESBIANS,,,

do you think anne and mary want me

BUT OKAY LMAO THESE TWO,,,

With that whole shot where it looks like Anne just kissed Stede, and the way they're both 👀👀 at Ed and Stede having their tense little interaction, I have to wonder if their gaydars go off and one or both subsequently decide to stir shit up PFFFF. Like, causing chaos by making Ed/Stede jealous type deal. And maybe Anne kissing Stede is what makes Ed choke on the blunt sdhkshdks WHO KNOWS.

Regardless, very excited to see the pairs interact. WHO KNOWS WHAT SORT OF MLM WLW SHENANIGANS WILL HAPPEN SDKJS.

And ALSO in relation to that scene, I just have to shdjksdhljksdkls over the editing because it took me out. Ed being like "And more importantly, no more Stede >:)" only to show his little wedding topper doll with Stede's subsequent "HULLOOO, IDWAD."

Killed me. KILLED ME DEAD. And also, a neat little way of editing call Ed out on his bullshit REAL FAST HSDJKSL. like, honey, you can try, but you know full and damn well that silly little guy has burrowed into the deepest chambers of your heart. he has your heart and you have his, WHOOPS.

Ricky, right? This is Ricky??

"WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY..."

So okay, a nose prosthesis is metal as hell, but that means we ALLLLLL know who he got tangled with PFFF. And I believe we see him in the Republic of Pirates talking to Stede and Co??? So I'm very VERY interested to see how that all devolves, and how he goes from vibing to wanting to throw hands.

Unless he was like, on some sort of reconnaissance mission for the British in the first place.

But I digress. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU HSDJKLSLKS

...The way I missed this SEVERAL times over, and didn't even see it until someone else pointed it out in another post.

IZZY WITH A HOOF PEGLEG. PRESUMABLY FROM THE UNICORN. BECAUSE WHERE ELSE WOULD THEY GET A WOODEN HOOF HSDKLJS.

But that also has me like 👁️👁️ for SO many different reasons. How did he lose a good portion of his leg? Was Stede the one to offer up the unicorn leg as a pegleg?

And TRULY, WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH HIM AND STEDE ANYWAY HSDKJLS LIKE I STILL CAN'T EVEN WRAP MY MIND FULLY AROUND THAT ONE,,,

My running theory is still that like...Izzy wanted a very specific version of Blackbeard. Izzy wanted someone who no longer exists, or maybe never existed to begin with. And so Izzy thought he was doing right by taking Stede out of the picture and nudging Ed back into a more viscous type of pirating...

Only for that to COMPLETELY backfire, and for Ed to get far more unstable. And like, something something Izzy was already complaining about Ed's "erratic moods" and "questionable decisions" BEFORE Stede came into the picture, so I doubt he's going to be content with Ed's turmoil and all the impulsivity that'll likely come with it.

So maybe, MAYBE, I'm thinking he'll have a bit of growth by realizing that Ed and Stede need each other, or maybe that Ed was way happier when things were smoother between him and Stede, at least. And knowing him and his characterization lol, it might not even be a selfless realization/decision. Maybe he'll only be doing it because he wants a less emotional version of Ed, and thinks that having Stede around and being cordial with him will allow that to happen.

And maybe it leads to even MORE growth when he gets roped into training Stede/the crew idk.

Regardless, REGARDLESS, they are one of the last pairs I ever expected to team up, because they were ACTIVELY bitching at each other all through last season HSDJKS.

HI AGAIN OLU MY SWEET LOVELY OLU MY SWEETHEART DARLING <3

BUT WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, SIR. WHAT'S THE TEA????

I'm not 100% certain, but it SEEMS like this is at Jackie's, or at least in the Republic of Pirates somewhere. And based on Ricky's injury, and also other little tidbits of footage, it SEEMS like something goes down there. Maybe some sort of scuffle between the Navy and our guys or something equivalent that snowballs into even ~*~Larger Problems~*~

SEE BECAUSE YEAH—EXPLOSIONS?? CANNON FIRE??? WHAT'RE Y'ALL DOIIINNNGGG LMAO.

And it's so wild because I definitely see Olu (with the CROCS OFC LMAO) and Pete, and then I THINK I see Lucius and Izzy in that mix too??? So like,,,

WHAT DID Y'ALL GET TANGLED IN SDHJKSKLS. AND WHERE IN THE SEASON WOULD THIS FALL??????

Oh this hurts lol. This one hurts. This one hurts a LOT. Stede Bonnet stop breaking my heart Challenge: impossible.

Because that's his home. That's his soul placed into a ship. That's the conglomeration of his hope, and heart, and adventure, and family,,,

And it's in RUINS.

LIKE, CAN THINGS STOP GOING BADLY FOR HIM ACTUALLY HSDKJS. CAN HE STOP GETTING DECKED BY HIS TRAUMA OVER AND OVER AND OVER. BECAUSE,,,

Fresh off the "you defile beautiful things/you're a monster/you're a failure/you ruin everything you touch" train, and he comes back to this. And if this is after he reunites with Ed and realizes things are bad, then man, that'll be even WORSE.

LIKE, NUMEROUS CHAMBERS OF HIS HEART HAVE BEEN SHREDDED. HIS HOME AND HEART ARE BROKEN.

mmMMmmmMMMMMM DAVID CAN WE MAYBE NOT <3 SHDJKLSKS

BUT, off we go cartwheeling from that footage to a VERY interesting bit of dialogue from Stede:

"The entire escape relies on this."

Escape?? ESCAPE???

Here I was thinking they enlisted they help of the Red Flag Fleet and/or Susan to try and catch up with the Revenge. So, ESCAPE???????

Did they get captured? Snatched up from the Republic of Pirates or something equivalent? Does someone have beef with Ed and holds Stede and Co hostage because they're trying to aid him?

OR, are they voluntarily on that ship to hide/lay low from the Navy or something, but their cover has been blown, and they have to quickly flee back onto the Revenge?

Very very inch resting whatever the case.

...

STEDE. FOOKIN. BONNET,,,

🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎

LIKE SIR, WHAT THE FUCK SHDSKD, Y'KNOW??? WITH THE STIDDIES OUT AND THE EARRING AND THE SCRUFF,,,

GOD LMAO. JESUS CHALUPA. CEASE.

like, you're telling me ed is going to see him like this and isn't going to IMMEDIATELY drop and start tying his hair into a ponytail? mmmMMKAY

BUT OKAY—ACTUALLY, that joke sort of brings me to a more angsty theory, because of course it does lol. I have to wonder if Stede is dressing like this because he legitimately wants to, OR, if it's because he feels like he has to.

Like, something something he's trying to do everything he can to win respect and establish himself and ALSO win back his man. And, something something he is ONCE AGAIN doing what HE thinks Ed wants, as opposed to what Ed might ACTUALLY want. Like, "Oh, he's a notorious pirate. He'll like me again if I have a little more gruff and backbone, right? That's what pirates like, right???"

LIKE NO YOU DOOFUS HSDSHDS HE LOVES YOU AS YOU ARE, JUST AS YOU LOVE HIM HOW HE IS. AND HE DREAMS OF DRESSING IN A DRESS WHEN MARRYING YOU. SO LIKE,,,

IF THAT IS INDEED THE CASE, I'M BEATING ED TO THE CHASE AND HEADBUTTING HIM MYSELF HSDKJLSDS.

*grumbling* even though it's a very VERY good look on him, so i hope it's more on his own volition.

I just want him to feel comfortable as HIMSELF, and feel like he doesn't have to perform/conform to anything. And I think there's something very deeply queer about him and Ed BOTH going through that. They're BOTH trying to figure themselves out and what they're comfortable with and who they want to be. And I hope that, IF this is his look, it's something that HE wants entirely.

((Which makes me raise my eyebrows a bit more because of the Cunty Red Jacket. Because he's CUNT. And also his curls are more pronounced when he wears that too. SooOOOoooOOO?????? VERY interested to see what he wants, and where he comfortably settles))

AND GODDDDDD ONTO YET ANOTHER VERY EYEBROW RAISING PART LMAO.

So, we've seen that shot of someone falling into the water like 80 million times at this point. And this trailer ALSO showed an additional shot of said person SINKING into the gloom. At least, I THINK it was the same person/connected. Again, could be a total misdirect lol.

And then we've seen all the blue-tinted shots of Ed off on his own somewhere, fight someone/something all the while being accompanied by some unknown figure.

And BECAUSE of the tinting/consistent lighting, and BECAUSE of the figure accompanying him, I have to also wonder like others similarly are...

Is this a DREAM???

Is this some sort of unconscious sequence where Ed works through trauma/hurt/demons? Is that person with him the ghost of Hornigold or another significant figure from his past? And does said sequence end with him jumping from the cliff and allowing the Kraken to disappear back to the gloom???

But something that makes that whole theory SUS is the shots we've gotten of someone, presumably Ed, coming up out of the ocean. And it's not tinted blue like all of these other shots are.

So it's just hsdjkhsdjksdhskjdhsjksfs??????

Regardless, REGARDLESS, I think all of this points to Ed going on some sort of journey, some sort of bout of self-discovery and self-acceptance. I think he's going to heal parts of himself, or at least SETTLE with parts of himself, no matter the circumstances. And that would be so good because I want that so badly for him. I want him to be able to do that for himself.

...AND SPEAKING OF HEALING SHDJKSKLS

BUNNY. BUNNET. SIR THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT STEDE BUNNET.

but omfg this is yet another case of my brain not being able to piece together timelines. because ed babe where ARE you. "BABYGIRL WHERE ARE YEEEWW..."

He looks so soft, and also has on a different ring??? An emerald/cyan looking ring??? AND THE KRAKEN RING THAT TAIKA ALWAYS WEARS HSDKJS.

So I just hsdjkhdjklsdhdjklshsjkls. "jodi you'e literally going to find out in like less than a month" I KNOW I KNOW OKAY BUT THAT DOESN'T PREVENT ME FROM GNAWING ON MY DESK FOR 18-ISH MORE DAYS HSDKJLS.

Also, as an aside, I SO very hope this leads to Fangy getting a puppy. I SO very hope that the "pets befouling the ship" clause is scratched from the rulebook PFFFF.

LOOK AT MY SWEETHEARTS HAVING FUN. LOOK AT JIM BEING UNHINGED SHDKJSS LOVE THAT FOR THEM. SERIOUS GOOSE IS BACK TO SILLY GOOSE!!! LOOK AT STEDE LOOKING LIKE A PROUD DAD. THIS IS THE SHIT I'M HERE FOR!!!

also hi hello is that archie. dO YOU THINK ARCHIE WANTS M-(GUNSHOTS)

i'll just be in the corner sobbing over being attracted to so many of these damn pirates. like, it's an Issue

...mmMMMMMM ONLY FOR ME TO TRANSITION RIGHT BACK INTO ANGST TERRITORY LMAO. BECAUSE STEDE, DARLING, WHAT IS THAT INJURY???

I've seen people theorize it's a stab wound, a bullet wound, or some sort of wound that was burned/cauterized. Either way, EITHER WAY, OUCH??? CAN MY DARLING PLEASE KNOW PEACE HSDJKSDKL

Also again, this all plays back into my theory that they're having a party, only to get crashed by some sort of navy personal or another pirate bounty hunter of some variety. And Stede gets captured/tortured.

*Banging pots and pans together* WHEEEEERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE HSDJKLSHDLKS

Same shirt, but has his EARRING. And is BATTLING A SHIT TON OF PEOPLE. So I would assume this comes AFTER the party fiasco, but also jsjshdjkshlJKHDKLS????

Also the CONCERN on his face is so striking. It makes me wonder if he's looking at Ed. ESPECIALLY because—

SAME BEACH, SAME BATTLE??? SEPARATED BY THE PARTY FIASCO AND ARE NOW FIGHTING TO GET TO ONE ANOTHER?????

But two things about this shot. Well, three, if you count me absolutely FOAMING at the mouth at getting to see Ed battle because hsdjhsjkhsdjkls bARK,,,

One, his sword is bloody. Love that for him. King shit. Slicing and dicing.

BUT TWO, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, HE APPEARS TO BE HOLDING HIS RIGHT SIDE. NOT THE LEFT SIDE WHERE HE'S BEEN STABBED LIKE 12+ TIMES, BUT THE RIGHT.

HE GETS INJURED??? DO THEY BOTH GET INJURED?????? DAVID I KNOW WE HAVE LIKE 18+ DAYS LEFT BUT I'M DYING OVER HERE HSDJKSLDS

oh hi izzy lmao the way i did not expect the hardest line in the trailer to come from him.

"You don't know the first thing about piracy. It's not about glory, it's about belonging to something."

God. GOD. I really feel like he's going to end up surprising me so much this season lmao.

((BECAUSE NOT TO MENTION, THE FACT THAT HE'S TALKING TO RICKY, AND IT JUST SEEMS,,, 👀))

oh god y'all lmao. want to see how loud i can scream. because, i missed this my first few watches, and didn't even notice until it was later pointed out in people's posts, but,,,

LUCIUS!!! L U C I U S!!!!!! MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND LUCIUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEARD, WOODEN FINGER, AND ALL.

MY DARLING. MY GUY. MY BESTIE!!!!!!!

Listen, I was like 99.9999999999999999% sure he was alive okay lol. Because NARRATIVELY, he had to be. NARRATIVELY, I think his death would have sent things into irreparable places. Also, silly little pirate rom/com; Y'ALL CAN'T KILL OFF ONE OF THE MOST BELOVED CHARACTERS LMAO LIKE NO WAY.

But regardless, I'm so happy to see him. I'm SO so happy to see him. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIM REUNITE WITH PETE, AS WELL AS SEE HIS REAL AWKWARD INTERACTIONS WITH ED, I'M SURE HSDJKS

Obligatory Wee John in drag mention/shoutout. Because come on now. COME ON NOW. HE'S FUCKING SERVING. ABSOLUTELY SLAYING. THAT BLUE LOOKS SO SO FUCKING GOOD ON HIM TOO. AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY FOR KRISTIAN AS WELL LIKE WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

Annnnnnd Obligatory Tealoranges mention/shoutout because goodness, look at them. LOOK at them. LOOK HOW SOFT JIM LOOKS. LOOK HOW SWEET THEY ARE. I'M EATING MY ARM!!!

*Baywatch Theme starts playing*

But okay okay what are we thinking:

Training montage/sequence? Or romantic moment?

STEDE'S ROCKY MOMENT LMAO, OR STEDE'S ROMANTIC HERO MOMENT. RUNNING TO GET GAINS, OR RUNNING TO GET HIS MAN.

OOOOOOO BITCH LMAO. OOOOOOOOOOOO BITCH. *RUBS HANDS TOGETHER*

and also snorting at ed's eyes because, just when i think they can't get any bigger,,, just when i think he can't possibly get even More Eyes than usual,,,

But okay hi hello WOWZERS this sequence. This one REALLY has my brain churning.

And I'm subsequently in the camp of thinking that this is very very soon after their reunion, if not their REUNION PROPER. I'm sort of leaning more towards the former, because something tells me they'd want to keep their reunion proper a secret/save it, since it'll likely be a very pivotal moment.

But regardless, SOMETHING SOMETHING SEASON 1 EP3 MIRROR? STEDE FINDS ED INJURED AND WATCHES OVER HIM???? I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW HYPE THAT WOULD MAKE MEEEEE HURT/COMFORT AND PARALLELS MY BELOVED!!!

Because Ed is DEFINITELY injured. Blood on the side of his head, various cuts and bruises across his face, etc etc. And Stede looks very Concerned when he calls his name. So I'm just 👀

Not to mention also, Ed seems VERY out of it. His eyes are wide/glazed-looking in all of the subsequent shots. And his first reaction is to headbutt Stede away shdkjshdkjs.

So again, the theory that it's right around their reunion seems very plausible, based upon reactions and outfits and the like. BUT WHO KNOWS.

also, for the record, still sobbing at how stede keeps his arm protectively draped over ed during these shots,,,

AND *RUBS HANDS OVER THIS ONE TOO*

,,,and maybe also *wipes tears away* because he just looks so SERENE. he looks so CALM. i have to wonder if this is after a pivotal moment in his healing, be it from his own realizations, an intimate conversation with stede, or both.

i just hope he's legitimately feeling better right here because i want that for him. i want that SO bad for him. I WANT THE WORLD FOR HIM!!!

Annnnnnnd ending it off with this shot because omfg. Three things.

One, JACKIE AND ED GIRLS NIGHT REAL,,,

Two, Ed trying something "different" has me sobbing and throwing up. He just wants to be comfortable. He just wants to be HIMSELF. He just wants to stop PERFORMING AND MASKING.

Three, THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO??? SWACKIE??? THE SWEDE LOOKING SO INCREDIBLY HOT??? THEY WERE NOT LYING WHEN THEY SAID EVERYONE WAS GOING TO BE HOT SHDJKSD

anyway, if you made it this far, then bless you and your resilience LMAO. but also if you made it this far, you're probably just as excited as i am. like, after this trailer, after seeing all of our darlings and seeing the silliness and seeing the interactions...

idk, i'm just feeling THAT much happier. i'm feeling THAT much more confident in our showrunners/cast/crew. and i cannot WAIT to continue feeling happy with all of y'all <3

18 DAYS AND COUNTING. CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HOW WRONG I AM LMAOOOO <333

[ghostalservice]

Me? Writing CANONVERSE? BAFFLING.

Dinner is... awkward. It’s just awkward! Because it’s Stede, and Ed, but there’s so much between them, so much hurt and history and feeling from the short weeks they spent together and then from the months of longing and searching and hoping and regretting. But there’s still this tug, this tie, this current of electricity that keeps a good three quarters of Stede’s attention focused on Ed at every moment.

And then there’s Anne and Mary, Ed’s old friends—Stede’s brain keeps repeating Ed’s I don’t have any friends, keeps glancing from Ed’s face, awash in emotions that seem as complicated as the ones writhing in Stede’s belly, to the glint in Anne and Mary’s eyes, to the look in both pairs that makes him think of Jack Rackham, just a bit.

And the thing is! They’re pirates! And yes. All right. Stede is a pirate also, so is Ed, obviously, Blackbeard himself and all that, but. Anne Bonny and Mary Read! He’s read about them! And they’re just so... piratical! So feisty and fierce and not at all soft and lovely like he knows Ed can be, underneath it all. He’s not—afraid of them. He’s wisely cautious.

And if that wasn’t enough? Buttons. Does anything more need to be said about Buttons? He has a bowl on his head and wants to become a seagull. He’s complimenting the meal.

Anyway. It’s awkward, and Ed throws a chair when they bring up the Mary formerly known as his wife, which. Well! He had thought that was a confidence shared between friends, but it seems not. Rude.

Read more at ao3!

[cuculine-nelipot]

The way I've seen people twisting themselves into knots trying to prove that Ed's treatment of Izzy does not constitute domestic violence is wild. My main question is, does it matter? Does it matter if it doesn't fall into the strictest definition of domestic violence? Does it take away from the fact that we know their relationship to be intimate, that that has been true for decades, that it has devolved into Edward repeatedly, intentionally inflicting pain on Izzy?

The biggest argument I've seen is that what happens between them somehow falls within the bounds of a pirate-typical employer/employee relationship. Cool story! Still abuse. Yes, much of the language frames their relationship as professional; Izzy calls Ed "captain", and Ed frames his mutilation of Izzy as punishment for insubordination or failure to do what was asked of him up to standard. Ed's talk with "Hornigold" might even suggest precedented, typical pirate behaviour. However, neither structure nor precedent means that it isn't abuse. It's still abuse. I'm not even going to bother with doing a deep dive into Ed's psychology and how his persistent framing of their relationship and his actions as "professional" very clearly stems from his inability to confront the truth of himself and, by extension, his feelings about other people, but it bears mentioning. We also see him designate Stede the role of "former shipmate" which we all know doesn't even begin to cover the scope of things - he just doesn't want Anne and Mary, or even Stede to know how personal it was and how deeply it affected him. We do have to contend with the fact that Izzy's and Edward's relationship is explicitly not just professional. They have known each other for decades, largely in the capacity of working together, yes, but they have also lived together for decades. The ship functions as a domestic space for them, and they have no other home. Yes, it's a working relationship, but that work is their entire lives - every aspect of their work directly contributes to the the maintenance of their home. (So yes, this is also means that there's an argument for Ed's treatment of the other crew members as a form of domestic violence.) Furthermore, they both admit to having love for each other - that does not fall within the bounds of a professional relationship. When Izzy's dying Ed says what we have already been shown - that they're family. The did not suddenly turn into family in that moment - unlike the mentor/father figure thing some people decided existed after the fact, we have been shown since the beginning that a great if indefinable intimacy does exist between them - they could not hurt each other as much as they have otherwise. Do you know what another term for domestic violence is? Intimate partner abuse. They had an intimate partnership in which one party had significantly less power than the other and was abused, and all this happened in the context of a shared home, therefore it's domestic violence. Et voilà. I know a lot of people don't particularly care for Izzy and want Ed to be more easily redeemable so we can better imagine his relationship with Stede working and being healthy, but it's just not the story we got. I'm also aware that the writers did not mean to tell a domestic violence story, may have even tried to avoid it with careful semantics, but it's the story they ended up telling anyway. As disappointed as we all are (I would have loved for this to have not happened, there are so many ways they could have explored Ed's and Izzy's dynamic without turning Ed into an abuser) it has to be taken into account now.

Also remember that a lot of people who see it as domestic do so because they have experienced domestic violence and can therefore better identify it when it doesn't fall into the neat, generalised framework we're taught. So I'm just asking everyone to take care how you talk and think about the subject because it is a slippery slope from applying one way of thinking to a piece of fiction, to applying it to reality, and that's a very dangerous game.

[oldfashionedbooklove]

tell me about your favorite lm montgomery novel please <3

Okay this is SO hard because her books are amazing but I just have to admit Rilla of Ingleside is my favourite, which is saying a lot because I LOVE HER BOOKS, okay! I adore the Story Girl duology and I absolutely love the Anne series and Jane of Lantern Hill.

But Rilla. This book is a heartbreaker. And it’s so beautiful.

I don’t know if I can fully express how much is to be found in this book. I have been reading it yearly for many years, and always come away with new thoughts. As I grow older, and see more of the world, I relate and understand more, and another level of the book is discovered.

The setting—a small P.E.I. town carrying on through WWI. I’m pretty tough when it comes to war books, but I have to take breaks from this one because it is so raw and real. The agony is intense. I cannot even cry over it—my heart hurts too much for tears. This shows exactly what the Great War was for people. You sway back and forth, feeling the dread and terror. You know how it ends but you are broken anyhow. And when the end comes, you too can only rejoice softly. You feel as if you have paid part of the price yourself.

“‘We’re in a new world,’ Jem says, ‘and we’ve got to make it a better one than the old. That isn’t done yet, though some folks seem to think it ought to be. The job isn’t finished—it isn’t really begun. The old world is destroyed and we must build up the new one. It will be the task of years. I’ve seen enough of war to realize that we’ve got to make a world where wars can’t happen. We’ve given Prussianism its mortal wound but it isn’t dead yet and it isn’t confined to Germany either. It isn’t enough to drive out the old spirit—we’ve got to bring in the new.’”

The characters in this book—they are alive. Splendid Jem, brave and merry and true; Jerry, steady and dutiful; Walter, sensitive and courageous; Carl, cheerful and fearless; Shirley, honest and reliable; Nan and Di and Anne, all heart-wrung and smiling; Gertrude, tragic and grasping for hope; the Doctor, determined and self-sacrificing; Susan, simple and true—and Rilla, who starts out a silly, frivolous girl and ends a strong, mature woman. Then there are all the minor and side characters—the Merediths, Cousin Sophia, Jimsy, Ken, Irene, Whiskers-on-the-Moon & his family, Mary and the Elliotts, Norman + Ellen, and everyone else. They’re all so alive, so real, so funny and terrible and beautiful—I swear Glen St. Mary exists and all the inhabitants thereof.

The story follows the Great War, from the first days in August 1914 to the bitter Summer of 1919, where peace has come but normal will never return. As a child, this story was simply World War One—a faraway, long-ago grief and horror and agony. Now, in 2024, as a woman, I have experienced a slight taste of what the people of 1914 felt, and it has humanized the story of the War. This, more than any other book I have read, brings the War and the world of 1914-1918 to life, showing how they were people just like us. The heart is wrung by their suffering, and there is no escape, for the war must drag on for long bitter years. And the price! Walter has become the face of unknown, forgotten heroes, and Jem has become that of the scarred heroes who returned. Every November we grieve the young men who never came home, and for the ones who came home missing a part of themselves, physical or otherwise. I have wept thinking of the children of Rilla, Ken, Faith, Jem, and the others—children who fought in WWII and whose parents were forced to relive the horrible conflict of mankind.

“It has been such a dreadful week,” she wrote, “and even though it is over and we know that it was all a mistake that does not seem to do away with the bruises left by it. And yet it has in some ways been a very wonderful week and I have had some glimpses of things I never realized before—of how fine and brave people can be even in the midst of horrible suffering.”

And yet the book overflows with humour—real laugh-out-loud scenes and witty, clever banter on princes and politics. It is another aspect of the humanity—the part that cannot fully let go of laughing despite the drain. Another angle is the shrewd commentary on principalities and powers, nations and cultures, is thought-provoking, as is the remarks that show us how the war truly changed the world.

“There was a time,” she said sorrowfully, “when I did not care what happened outside of P.E. Island, and now a king cannot have a toothache in Russia or China but it worries me. It may be broadening to the mind, as the doctor said, but it is very painful to the feelings.”

But the biggest things to me is the SPIRIT of this book. The spirit of perseverance, endurance, courage, and love. Of course, man is man, and there is suspicion, contempt, and a feeling of superiority—but this is not exclusive only to Anglo-Saxons. As someone who isn’t Anglo-Saxon myself, and actually of mixed cultures, I can attest every nation is guilty of such. World War One was a battle of good vs. evil—not of man vs. man, but Idea against Idea—the idea of civilization against militarism. Perhaps not on the part of the leaders—but when one studies the writings, letters, poems, and speeches of the everyday folks caught up in the war, one sees this distinction plainly. It was not a war of European against European, Anglo-Saxon against German—it was a war between an old, terrible Idea of Prussianism (Frederick the Great, anyone?) and the Idea of Respect and Peace.

“And you will tell your children of the Idea we fought and died for—teach them it must be lived for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for nought.”

May we never forget.

A REMARK: I discovered that Rilla of Ingleside was abridged by about 4,300 words (~14 pages), so I searched for an unabridged copy. I definitely encourage you to take the extra trouble to find an *unabridged* copy. It is SO worth it! I’ve read both versions and the unabridged is so much fuller, with a great deal more humour and fun.

I just have to pick out my favourite quotes, too…

“We all come back to God in these days of soul-sifting,” said Gertrude to John Meredith. “There have been many days in the past when I didn't believe in God—not as God—only as the impersonal Great First Cause of the scientists. I believe in Him now—I have to—there's nothing else to fall back on but God—humbly, starkly, unconditionally.”

“‘Our help in ages past’—‘the same yesterday, to-day and for ever,’ said the minister gently. ‘When we forget God—He remembers us.’”

Below her [window] was a big apple-tree, a great swelling cone of rosy blossom.... Beyond Rainbow Valley there was a cloudy shore of morning with little ripples of sunrise breaking over it. The far, cold beauty of a lingering star shone above it. Why, in this world of springtime loveliness, must hearts break?

And I can’t leave without some humour:

“‘The Germans have recaptured Premysl,’ said Susan despairingly… ‘and now I suppose we will have to begin calling it by that uncivilized name again. Cousin Sophia was in when the mail came and when she heard the news she hove a sigh up from the depths of her stomach, Mrs. Dr. dear, and said, ‘Ah yes, and they will get Petrograd next I have no doubt.’ I said to her, ‘My knowledge of geography is not so profound as I wish it was but I have an idea that it is quite a walk from Premysl to Petrograd.’ Cousin Sophia sighed again and said, ‘The Grand Duke Nicholas is not the man I took him to be.’ ‘Do not let him know that,’ said I. ‘It might hurt his feelings and he has likely enough to worry him as it is.’ But you cannot cheer Cousin Sophia up, no matter how sarcastic you are, Mrs. Dr. dear. She sighed for the third time and groaned out, ‘But the Russians are retreating fast,’ and I said, ‘Well, what of it? They have plenty of room for retreating, have they not?’ But all the same, Mrs. Dr. dear, though I would never admit it to Cousin Sophia, I do not like the situation on the eastern front. [But] Grand Duke Nicholas, though he may have been a disappointment to us in some respects, knows how to run away decently and in order, and that is a very useful knowledge when Germans are chasing you. Norman Douglas declares he is just luring them on and killing ten of them to one he loses. But I am of the opinion he cannot help himself and is just doing the best he can under the circumstances, the same as the rest of us.’”

[queerly-done]

So my opinions on all the Dead Boy Detective/DBDA Characters

All of these are opinions as someone who has watched the show a few times now and also the Doom Patrol episode and I’ll give my opinions on the Doom Patrol versions at the end.

Spoilers for Dead Boy Detectives Show. And Doom Patrol season 3 ep. 3 and that episode alone

Charles Rowland

- Charles is such a sweetheart I love him. He’s always looking out for his friends and literally went to hell for Edwin, and kicked the Night Nurse for him. I just love him so much.

- I felt so bad for him in episode one when he says his dad, “wasn’t the nicest guy,” and in episode three when we see him break being forced to see a father k!ll his family over. I was actually crying with him saying he doesn’t “want to be a bad guy”! It broke me so badly, the abuse he went through and the fear he’ll become like his abusers is a very real thing and to see a character go through that makes the story feel more real, and makes me more sad. He could use some therapy.

- Him being the “brawn” of the team is pretty funny to me but thats most because if you watch the cast interactions you’ll see what I mean.

- All in all, I love him. He is loving, protective, loyal and has golden retriever with attachment issues energy mixed with scary dog privilege but the dog isn’t scary unless provoked.

Edwin Paine/Payne

- Adorable, get him some therapy please! He needs it! Man was so repressed for the first part of this show I thought I’d die before he confessed. But I don’t blame him honestly, his death was traumatic and being called a “Mary Ann” whilst being sacrificed likely would put a bad taste in your mouth about the idea of you being queer in any way shape or form. I am so proud of him good job!

- Honestly he just makes me so happy, and I love how he interacts with everyone and grows!

Crystal Palace

- I love her she is so bad ass and I hope wish the best for her

- She needs better taste in men, my suggestion date women

- I want to see a little more of her Nepo baby side of her past cause clearly that was a thing

Niko Sasaki

- Sweetie! I miss her! She was the only other person other than Charles to get Edwin out of his shell and it hurts me so much to see her be gone. Her death will forever haunt me.

Cat King

- I love him so much, he is my favourite kind of not evil but not good guy the kind that plays a game with people by flirting! Ahhh I love him! I don’t love that he falls for Edwin(I’ll make a separate post on this issue)

- Anywho I still love him he gives off chaotic gender neutral vibes and the song Sex With a Ghost was made for him, I just love him!

Monty the Crow

- Monty I love you but don’t kiss people without consent!

- Honestly he was very important, and sweet he didn’t deserve all the pain he’s been through, may better things come his way.

Jenny the Butcher

- Badass. I love everything about her. Her style, the way she gives advice, yes I just love her so much. I want to see more of her.

- Her episode made me so sad for her ;-;

Esther Finch

- Honestly I love her as a villain she was so evil, and a genuine threat. She is also so hot and scary I just love her.

David the Demon

- A creep I didn’t like him, I don’t know what else you want?

Doom Patrol versions!

Charles Rowland

- He was so funny in this, I loved him. I love how the show conveyed a mutual interest from him to Edwin they are both just too dense to say anything about it. I also love that it seems the only thing he knows about America is that they like baseball.

- They did have to go off and hurt me with the fear of water scene, but he was so sweet protecting Edwin from the Night Nurse(who in this is just 10 times scarier)

Edwin Paine

- Him not getting anything about modern times and brushing off his feelings for Edwin was so well done! I love how he tells Larry he “isn’t like him” saying he isn’t queer and that if he were that would be bad, he says this all in a very rude and brash tone and then proceeds to comfort Charles in the nicest to he is capable of.

- Beautiful 10/10

Crystal Palace

- Boss ass Bitch, girl boss. 8/10 I love her but no real opinions yet that is I may go back one day and edit this for her

I hope you liked this dumb post :3