#is it meant to be a visual parallel

[everlarking-always]

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived.” I say. “But I felt happy.” ... Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn’t notice before and the disc pops open. It’s not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. […] “Your family needs you, Katniss,” Peeta says. My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta’s intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I’ll marry him. So Peeta’s giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn’t ever have doubts about it. Everything. That’s what Peeta wants me to take from him. ... He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. “You’re going to make a great mother, you know,” he says. ... As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Captiol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe. ....

[heroesriseandfall]

Dick Grayson & Tim Drake: A Photograph

A photo of my family and you’re in it.

Comic sources:

Batman #441

Secret Origins #50

Batman #436

Batman #436

Batman #441

Batman #441

Secret Origins #50

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing” [edited]

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Secret Origins #50

Detective Comics #965

52 #31, “The Origin of Robin”

Batman #441 - Cover by George Pérez

Red Robin #12

Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, “Little Wing”

Batman #440

Image descriptions in alt text are also copied below read more.

1. Two comic panels from Batman #441 showing 13-year old Tim Drake sitting in a chair at Wayne Manor, with Dick Grayson in front of him and Alfred Pennyworth standing beyond that. They all have serious expressions on their faces. Tim says, “Okay, you won’t take me seriously until I tell you everything. Dick, I don’t want this to hurt you. And I’m really afraid it might.” Dick says, “Tim, just tell your story, please.” Tim reaches into his jacket as if to grab something and says, “All right, all right. Well, first, my name’s Tim Drake…and though you won’t remember it, we’ve met before. I’ve even got a photograph to prove it.”

2. Text from Secret Origins (1986) #50 that says: A woman with a small boy in the front of the grandstand waved to him. All three Graysons trotted to her. “This is Tim’s first time at the circus,” she said, patting the boy’s thin shoulder, “and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him.” “Of course,” Mother replied, smiling. “We’d be delighted.”

3. Comic panels from Batman #436 showing John and Mary Grayson in their yellow, green, and red circus costumes as they walk through the circus with a young Dick Grayson between them. John says, “Dick, I’ve got those tickets for the baseball game monday.” Dick grins up at him and says, “You really got ‘em? Wow! I can’t believe I’m actually going to the World Series.” Someone off-panel says, “Umm, excuse us for interrupting, but—” The Drakes walk right up to the Graysons. Janet is in a pink day dress and Jack is in a suit, holding a very young Tim Drake in his arms. Janet says, “This is Tim’s first time at a circus, and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him?” Mary Grayson puts her hands on Dick’s shoulders as Dick grins up at little Tim, who smiles down at him in response. Mary says, “Of course…we’d be delighted.” They all pose for a picture with the crowds behind them. Jack and Janet stand between John and Mary, while Dick kneels in the front holding young Tim up on his knee. He looks down at Tim, who looks back, and with a smile, Dick says, “Tim, say cheese.”

4. A comic panel from Batman #436 showing Alfred Pennyworth’s hands holding out and gesturing towards a photo as he says, “Gentlemen, and ladies—the very last photo of the Grayson family together. One last moment of happiness.” The photo shows the Grayson and Drake families together in the same poses as the previous image. John and Mary Grayson stand on either side of Jack and Janet Drake, while Dick kneels on one knee with his other knee up, where he is holding young Tim to sit on the knee. The parents are looking forewards, but Dick and Tim are looking at each other. The Graysons are all in their circus costumes, but the Drakes are in suits and Janet a dress.

5. A comic page from Batman #441. The first panel shows Tim Drake, who is sitting in a chair at Wayne Manor and holding up a photo of the Drakes with the Flying Graysons while Dick Grayson is standing in front of Tim’s chair. Tim says, “This was taken on my first trip to the circus—on the day I saw Batman for the first time...On the day your parents were killed.” Dick Grayson looks shocked, and takes the photo as he says, “Oh, my god—my parents.” Alfred Pennyworth, standing behind Dick, says, “I—I know this photograph, that’s you?” Tim looks up at them and says, “Uh-huh. After Bruce Wayne made you his ward, my parents sent it to you. They thought you’d want it. I was only a kid, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened. I had nightmares about it for years. First about your parents, then about Batman. I kept seeing this dark black thing that swooped out of the sky. No, no—let me start at the beginning.” The scene changes to a gold-toned memory of the Drakes walking through Haly’s Circus. Janet is in a light dress, holding Jack’s arm as they grin at each other. Jack is in a suit, holding a young Tim who is also in a suit and has a big smile on his face as he reaches towards a passing Clown. Janet says, “I think you were right, honey—he loves it. Look at him laughing at everything.” Jack replies, “Hey, I said he wasn’t too young.” Janet says, “Okay, I was wrong. But sometimes circuses can frighten kids.” The Drakes walk through the circus, toward where you can see the Flying Graysons walking together. Janet continues, “They’re loud and rowdy, and I remember when I was Timothy’s age I was scared by people wearing costumes. Sue me. I'm a mother. I worry.” Jack says, “You were a girl. Tim’s a boy. That’s the difference.” Janet smiles up at Jack and says, “Sexism, dear? And here I thought you were liberated.” Jack follows Tim’s eyesight toward the smiling Flying Graysons as they walk past, then says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Look, if you’re so worried, there’re a couple of the performers. Let’s take him over there. He’ll see they’re people just like him.”

6. A comic page from Batman #441 showing a gold-toned memory scene with the Flying Graysons, all in acrobatics costumes remniscent of the Robin suit, and the Drakes, who are wearing formal dress. Mary and John are smiling at Dick walking between them as Dick excitedly says, “—I’m actually going to the world series?” Beyond him, Janet and Jack Drake are walking up to them, with Jack holding a very young smiling Tim in his arms. Jack says, “Umm, excuse us for interrupting, but this is Tim’s first time at the circus…and we were wondering if you’d let us take your photo with him?” The two families pose, with Dick on one knee with Tim Drake sitting on his other knee, held up by Dick’s arms. Tim stares at Dick in wonder as Dick smiles at him and says, “Tim, say cheese.” 13-year-old Tim speaks through a narration box to say, “Maybe I knew you were just a kid like me, but I kept staring at you, and your circus costume. It was bright red and green and you seemed so happy in it.” In the memory, Dick pats Tim’s head as he gets ready to leave, and says, “Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I’m going to do my act—‘specially for you. Be good now.” Then the scene returns to the present, in regular color, showing 13-year-old Tim sitting in Wayne Manor while Alfred and Dick look at him. Tim says, “I don’t remember the clowns or the animals, or anything else. I just remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

7. Text from Secret Origins #50 that says: The photo was snapped and the Graysons returned to the darkness of the backstage area and did the stretching exercises Johnny Grayson insisted precede every performance. On the other side of the canvas wall, the crowd was laughing and applauding the clowns’ fireman routine. They heard the ringmaster’s round baritone, amplified and distorted by the loud speakers, booming through the tent. “Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages—for your entertainment and amusement, doing their death-defying act without benefit of a net—” Johnny kissed his wife and ruffled his son’s hair.

8. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1, the fourth story, showing Tim Drake and Dick Grayson sitting on a couch in Dick Grayson’s apartment. Tim is on the left wearing a pink and purple Gotham Knights jersey with a matching hat. He’s pointing at Dick, who’s turned to listen attentively to Tim while wearing a white tank top and gray sweats as he clicks a TV remote. Tim says, “Dick, meeting you—and him—have been the single most defining moments of my life.” The scene changes to the memory of the Drakes and the Flying Graysons posing together in Haly’s Circus while someone who is just a silhouette takes a photo of them. John and Mary are standing on either side of Jack and Janet with wide smiles, each in their red, yellow, and green acrobatics outfits. John’s and Dick’s outfits look particularly remniscent of the Robin outfit. Dick is kneeled in front of the parents with one knee up where young Tim is sitting on his thigh, smiling and looking at Dick. 14-year-old Tim narrates this memory by saying, “Some days I wish I could go back to feeling like that. You promised me that you’d do a quadruple somersault. And you delivered. It was the best day of my life. And then your parents died.”

9. An edited comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 of very young Tim Drake with his father’s arm on his shoulder, both looking up at John and Mary Grayson falling. John and Mary are in their red, yellow, and green acrobatics costumes, knees bent and arms stretched with one part of hands barely touching. Behind them, their acrobatic lines are snapping. Crowds in the large tent are yelling and pointing up at them. Tim’s face is not visible but he’s clearly watching them fall.

10. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 of nine-year-old Tim Drake staring at a TV screen, on which Robin is visible mid-flip, arms holding his legs tucked in. The Penguin is croached with his back turned to Robin, directly in position for Robin to land on him. Audio from the TV is saying, “Wanted for theft of the Lapis Lazuli Horus Crown, the so-called Penguin was apprehended by the Batman and a young costumed vigilante…” 13-year-old Tim narrates the memory of his younger self, saying: “You gave yourself away with the quad. The ringmaster told the crowd at Haly’s that only three people alive could pull off a jump like that—you and a pair of Russian gymnasts that defected from the Bolshoi to Ringing Brothers. I knew it was you.” Off-panel, Dick Grayson responds to Tim’s recollection by saying, ”Incredible. A nine-year-old kid figures out the best-kept secret on the planet.” In the memory, just beyond young Tim in the background are Jack and Janet Drake at a table, with Jack looking like he’s speaking angrily.

11. Text from Secret Origins #50 that says: Below, the ringmaster was saying, “Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please, as young Dick Grayson attempts the in-credible…im-possible…quadruple flip of doom!” Dick breathed deeply and slowly, relaxing himself as Johnny had taught him, grabbed the bar, pushed off the platform, letting momentum carry him— But was something wrong? The trapeze didn’t feel right. —and allowed his mind to empty, and there were the few dizzy, exhilarating instants: spin spin spin spin. Feet thudding onto the platform. Roar of applause. Mother’s warm fingers touching his cheek. Ringmaster’s boom: “Let’s hear it, ladies and gentlemen—dauntless Dick Grayson, the boy wonder of the circus!”

12. A comic page from Detective Comics #965 showing a warm-toned scene of 13-year-old Tim Drake talking to a gobsmacked Dick Grayson in Wayne Manor. Tim says, “C’mon, Dick—that flip you did as Robin. It was a quadruple somersault. The circus ringmaster said only three people could do that.” Tim holds up a photo of the Drakes with the Flying Graysons, and continues, “I knew that somersault. Knew it like I knew my own name.” Tim smiles and says, “And it all made sense. Batman showed up at the circus and took you with him. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. If you were Robin, and you were Bruce Wayne’s ward—I realized Bruce Wayne was batman.” The scene zooms out to show Tim sitting in a chair as Dick and Alfred Pennyworth stare at him. Tim says, “I don’t want to say the rest was easy, because you guys really covered your tracks. But if you go in knowing Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are Batman and Robin, well, you can find the clues to prove it.”

13. Comic panels from 52 #31, 2nd story, “The Origin of Robin.” 9-year-old Tim Drake is shown from the back, sitting on the floor staring at a TV screen that shows Dick Grayson as Robin, flipping through the air. Tim’s face is reflected in the TV screen, showing his awestruck smile. Various objects are scattered on the floor in front of Tim, including pizza, books, and a magnifying glass. Orange narration boxes say, “The eyes of a fan caught a moment the rest of the world had overlooked. Tim Drake—and Tim Drake alone—had grown up fascinated by the career of an obscure and forgotten child acrobat named Dick Grayson—but when Tim saw Batman’s partner Robin perform Grayson’s signature gymnastic moves, something clicked in Tim’s mind.” The next panel shows Tim in a trenchcoat, expression awestruck as he shines a flashlight through a glass case in which a pristine Robin costume is hanging. The narration boxes continue, “Over the next few years, Tim—through a series of clues and lucky breaks—proved conclusively that Grayson was Robin…or, rather, had been.”

14. George Pérez’s cover art for Batman #441, cropped to focus on the lower half. Dick Grayson, in civilian clothing, is standing in the forefront of the image, with the 80’s Batcave looming around him. He’s looking down with a pensive expression at the Robin costume held in his hands. Behind to the right, Tim Drake (also in civilian clothing) is standing with photographs falling out of his hands in front of Dick’s shoes. The closest photo shows the Flying Graysons posing with the Drake family. The next closest two photos are of Robin and Batman. Beyond Dick and the photos, to the left, is Alfred Pennyworth. Up at the top, partially cropped away, are Batman and Two Face’s lower faces, with a scene of a bridge by Batman’s face and a flipping coin with a scene of Gemini casinio behind it right next to Two Face’s face. In the Batcave, the giant penny, the T-rex, and the massive batcomputer are all on prominent display.

15. Comic panels from Red Robin #12 of Dick Grayson talking to Tim Drake with a blurry aquamarine Batcave behind them. Dick is wearing the chestplate of the Batman suit but no cowl, as he looks intensely (with the slightest smile) toward Tim, who is shirtless, revealing long pink scratches and scars along his shoulder and cheek. Tim, looking up at Dick, says, “Ra’s—” Dick says, “Gone. We swept the place and got nothing. You want to tell me what that was all about?” Tim replies, “It’s...a little complicated. But I think we’re good for a while.” Dick says, “How’d you know? How did you know I’d be there to save you?” Tim smiles up at Dick as he says, “You’re my brother, Dick. You’ll always be there for me.”

16. A comic panel from Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 showing Tim drake and Dick Grayson sitting on the couch in Dick’s apartment. Dick is reaching over to mess with Tim’s hair as Tim laughs and leans away, raising his hands to jokingly defend against Dick. Behind them in the apartment is a desk with a computer whose screen is lit up with a woman’s sketchy face. Dick says, “Got a friend visiting.” Barbara Gordon, over Dick’s computer audio, asks, “Anyone I know?” Dick says, “Little brother.”

17. Cropped art from Batman #440 of a cool-toned photograph with the Flying Graysons and the Drake family posing together. The Flying Graysons are all in their acrobatics outfits. John and Dick Grayson’s outfits are styled similarly, looking like a mix of the original Robin suit and Tim Drake’s first Robin suit. John and Mary are stood to either side of the smiling Jack and Janet Drake. Jack is in a suit and his hands are resting on Janet’s arms. Janet is wearing a day dress. In front of all the parents, Dick Grayson is down on one knee, with his left knee up so little Tim Drake can be perched on his thigh. Tim is in a a suit, similar to his father, and he’s looking up at Dick with a broad, awestruck smile. Dick is holding Tim in place with his arms, and instead of looking toward the camera like the parents are, he’s meeting Tim’s eyes with a smile. Behind them all, the crowds of Haly’s Circus are vaguely visible. In the corner by Dick’s right left, 13-year-old Tim Drake’s thumb is resting on the photograph, as if he’s holding it.

[scarefox]

----- VS -----

[janitorpostman]

The whole time the show was running I was expecting an episode titled "Betty Grof". Alas.

okay last thing i'll say for now. what exactly are we supposed to take from that casper and nova parallel or even from simon and betty's final talk? that simon wishes he had listened more to betty? okay, that's great, but what does it matter when not even we as an audience ever, not even for a single moment, got her actual unfiltered perspective over her own current situation, let alone simon? it feels so weird to have the message here be 'betty was too obsessed with simon to the point of erasing herself and losing her identity and simon didn't notice it' and then just. well. i guess that's it. let's wrap it up guys. simon says 'sorry women' and that's that.

[vidavalor]

Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

[coquetteriddle]

i get the idea that in canon, tom riddle is meant to be portrayed as attractive and manipulative and it serves as an easy visual parallel to the monster he becomes but also like. having harry consistently note and describe every single one of his traits as attractive is um. its a choice

[novelmonger]

I wasn't expecting it to take this long, but after a million distractions, I'm back to going through the LotR audio commentaries and taking note of any interesting tidbits I haven't heard before.

Please enjoy my notes on the RotK design team commentary with Richard Taylor, Tania Rodger, Grant Major, Alan Lee, John Howe, Dan Hennah, and Chris Hennah:

They had to make Deagol's ears out of waterproof gelatin rather than latex because he was going to fall in the water, and the normal latex ears would have come off. I guess they must have done the same any other time a Hobbit got submerged, but they didn't say that.

The fish that Gollum eats at the beginning is made from some kind of edible gelatin so he could actually bite into it. They also had another prop fish that wasn't edible that they gave Andy Serkis to keep at the end XD

The little stone hollow thing where Frodo and Sam are sleeping for their first scene in the movie was a set they built with a removable back wall so they could get a camera in to shoot it from the back as well as the front. Why did I never think of that before?

There were a couple of extra shots they needed of Orthanc in the background to finish up the movie, but they hadn't managed to get the footage from the miniatures (and I guess the miniatures were gone by that point? idk). So they took one of the model collectibles Weta had made and took some photos of it out in the parking lot XD

Whoooooaaaa! Okay, so Alan Lee talks about how, in legends, they say that you have to kill a wizard three times for him to stay dead. And Saruman dies "three times" - first he's stabbed, then he's impaled, then he's drowned. So Saruman is dead dead. Dare I say it? This is...I think this is a better death than the one in the book ._.

They even put carvings on the crossbeams underneath the seats of the chairs in Edoras! You are never ever going to see them, but that was their dedication to making everything feel authentic. That's what sets this apart from so many fantasy movies and shows made these days.

Red in the costumes is meant to suggest royalty. That's why Aragorn, Boromir, Theoden, and Theodred all have red in their costumes - as well as Bilbo and Frodo! You're meant to look at someone wearing red and unconsciously think, "there's something regal about them."

John Howe points out that you probably wouldn't ever reforge a sword like they do with Narsil, at least not in the sense of putting the pieces back together, because it wouldn't be as strong as it was originally. (You could melt it down and start over again, of course.) But, he reminds us, these are the Elves, and it's more of a symbolic thing anyway.

The great hall in Minas Tirith was inspired by Charlemagne's chapel (and Byzantine architecture was one of the main influences on the design of Gondor in general).

The statue of the king in Ithilien was made out of polystyrene, which you would think would be pretty light, but it was so huge it was actually very heavy. They had to transport it to the location in three pieces: the base, the body, and the head. And to lift one on top of each other, they had to rig a sort of pulley system over the limb of a tree, using a four-wheel drive truck to pull it. But they discovered that the first truck wasn't getting enough traction, so they hooked a second truck up to it, and ended up pulling the first truck up into the air along with the statue!

They created fourteen new weapons just to put in the background of the armory in the scene where the Witch-King is getting ready for battle @_@

John Howe said that his inspiration for Minas Morgul was...getting his wisdom teeth pulled??? He describes a metal clamp digging into the perfectly healthy enamel of his tooth to pull it out, and draws a parallel to the metal pieces the orcs fitted to the top of the pristine white parapets, staining and violating them. Um...thanks, I could've done without that visual, John.

I can't believe I never thought about this before, but there's a little wooden roof over the pile of wood for the beacon that Pippin lights. The reasoning behind that is you need some kind of cover to keep the wood more or less dry for when it needs to be lit in an emergency. The beacon will burn away the wooden roof, but it can be replaced easily enough, and it's worth it to be able to quickly light the beacon.

A lot of the saddles they used were ordered from the Indian military, because they had a good, old-fashioned sort of look to them. Then they would add onto the saddles with things that would make them look distinctly Rohirric, rather than Indian.

Alan Lee's daughter worked on some of the figures in the doors of Minas Tirith!

John Howe goes off on this whole tangent about how there's no religion or religious structures in Middle-Earth, and why that might be, but the whole time I was just sitting there going, "...have you never read The Silmarillion????"

Because they had to make over a hundred suits of Gondorian armor, other than the hero suits, they couldn't make each one exactly the right size for the man who would wear it, so the casting department had to only get actors within a certain range of size. They also built the suits of armor with sliding pieces, so they could be somewhat fitted to different sizes.

The horses started out as being part of the art department's responsibility, but as time went on, there were just so many horses they had to keep track of (and the various liveries they would have to be fitted out with) that they had to make a separate horse department to oversee it all.

Because so much of the movie was filmed on-location, in some very remote locations, they had to make a sort of caravan of mobile repair stations that they could take with them. They had all the tools and crew necessary on hand wherever they went so they could repair broken props or ripped costumes, reapply makeup for gore and injuries, take nicks out of the edge of weapons.... It was really like moving an army around!

For the dream where the Evenstar breaks, they made a version of it that was five times bigger than normal, out of a very brittle resin. Then they made an oversized section of the floor and dropped it from a great height so it would completely shatter in a dramatic way like that.

Anduril was John Howe's design. He based it on a sword belonging to a friend of his in Germany, which to him is the ideal sword, the most beautiful sword. He also talked a bit about how Men were taller and bigger in the First and Second Ages, so their swords would have been longer.

John Howe: "Why do people criticize Tolkien for not developing his characters sufficiently? I cannot fathom that kind of criticism. I think it's done by people who don't read between the lines."

Richard Taylor said they had a lot of fun gathering up all the skulls after each take in the Paths of the Dead to put back up at the top so they could be poured down again. Apparently Viggo liked to gather them up and try to throw them at the crew members! "Many hours of skullduggery was to be had," as Richard put it XD

Apparently, they'd made dozens of really finely detailed silicone heads to be lobbed over the wall of Minas Tirith, but then all but one of them were stolen! So they had to quickly put together some crude latex ones to use in the shoot instead (one of which the mayor of Wellington threw). They didn't talk about this, but I'm assuming the one good head that was left is the one that gets a close-up. You have to wonder who out there was sitting around with a bunch of highly realistic latex severed heads in his basement or something....

While most of the siege towers are miniatures or CG, they built the top third of one and put it on tracks so they could move it up against the wall. They built the set with breakable ramparts for when the little drawbridge thing crashes down.

They had the same trouble in Minas Tirith that they did in Helm's Deep, with the battering ram being too heavy for the stunties to lift. But they never actually explained how they got around that problem, if it was the same solution or not :/ All they said was that they had replaceable panels in the doors, in case they were damaged by the battering ram.

In order to make Shelob's webs, they had to heat up two polymers and mix them together to make the stringy, sticky material. In order to mix them, they had to be heated up to 220 degrees C, but if they got up to 228 degrees, they would burst into flame @_@ After they were heated and mixed, they would dribble the mixture on top of a vat of water, where it would cool in spiderweb-like shapes. Then they would lift it out on a frame, and they could carefully place it on the set. One time, the polymers did burst into flame, and they were running out of fire extinguishers to put it out! O.O Eventually, they did call the fire department, who said they'd done everything the fire department would have done. They got the fire put out, but it was a nerve-wracking moment, because the room where they were making the webs was connected to the studio, so it could have been disastrous D:

Bernard Shaw apparently got the idea to do that whole bit where he knocks his sword against the row of spears when he saw the collection of spears all lined up in a row in the art department.

The "oil" that Denethor pours over himself and Faramir is a mixture of glycerin and water. (I always wonder about these things, so I'm really glad they mentioned it.)

When they were filming the pyre scene, they had a silicone dummy for Faramir on the burning pyre. Apparently somebody on the crew brought "David Wenham" a cup of coffee over because they thought he'd fallen asleep on the side of the set, only to discover that it was a dummy! XD

The horse rig they made for close-up work of people on horseback got affectionately nicknamed "the Phony Pony." The first day they brought it on set, Peter Jackson got up on it and "rode" the horse, making the whole crew laugh XD

One of the ideas that Peter Jackson came up with for the mumakil in a brainstorming session (which Richard Taylor says he's still not sure if PJ was serious about or not) was that they could suck up several riders in its trunk and then fire them out like bullets. I'm...really glad they didn't go with that, whether PJ was serious or not <_<

Alan Lee says that the first time he saw the dead mumakil that Weta made for the set, the body was hollow, and some of the crew had set up a TV inside it and were watching a rugby game XD

The last miniature they built for LotR was the Minas Tirith docks where the Corsair ships come in. It kept getting put off until almost the end of the shoot, so they only had five days to put it together! @_@

All of the dead horses are fake, of course, so Weta had to make them all. They were made of lightweight material, so each day you'd see the set dressers just kind of casually carrying in a whole dead horse and then picking one up from the battlefield afterwards like it's no big deal. They had to do a lot of repairs to the dead horses, because the legs and ears kept falling off or getting bent the wrong way XD

The stone Watchers in Cirith Ungol have Maori influence in their design. I wish they'd talked about that in more detail, but it was just mentioned in passing.

They were concerned about the various copies of the One Ring being stolen, so they kept it in a lunchbox that was labeled "Screws."

The scene where Frodo and Sam join the orc convoy was filmed on location up on a mountain, so they had to deal with a whole bunch of extras in extensive prosthetics and armor, which would make them sweat while they were moving around, but then when the camera wasn't rolling, it would be a challenge to keep them warm. The way they did most of the orcs was that they wore a rubber mask and then a helmet, and they would need to take them off at regular intervals so the actors could get some air. So in between takes, after the director called, "Cut!" there would also be a cry of, "Heads off!" That meant the dressers would have to rush into the crowd and quickly take off the extras' helmets and masks XD

Because the crew was committed to not damaging any of the flora and fauna in the places where they were filming, even in the location that became the plains of Mordor that Frodo and Sam struggle across, there were little flowers and moss that they wanted to protect (and it was a national park). So they would lay down carpets on the ground for people to walk on, so they wouldn't damage the plant life. I'm sure that made for a strange sight, Frodo and Sam struggling in tattered clothing over rocks and boulders, surrounded by perfectly ordinary rugs XD

To do the decapitation of the Mouth of Sauron, they had a headless dummy sitting there, and Viggo would swipe his sword where the head should be. Then Weta Digital put in the head afterwards.

The lava in Mount Doom was mostly a miniature (except for the set where Sean and Elijah did their part), made from methyl cellulose and other things to make it look like lava. They set it up on a table that they would tilt so it would flow down around the model boulders made from urethane.

Richard Taylor said that, at that time, no one had really done a very good CG bird, so he was especially pleased at how the eagles turned out.

There were about 400 people working in the art department total, and most of them had never worked in the film industry before! @_@

Ngila Dickson's philosophy for the Elves was that none of their "crowns" or headpieces would go upwards, but would fit close around their heads and then go down. That's one of those things I've subconsciously noticed all these years, but never really thought about before.

Apparently, a little bit of the graphite used on Aragorn's armor in the coronation scene kind of puffed out when he and Arwen go in for their kiss, and got on Arwen's dress D: And some well-meaning person tried to rub it off, but only succeeded in spreading it around further, thus ruining the dress. And most of the female characters only had one copy of each costume, because all except for Eowyn don't see battle and thus don't need different versions with varying amounts of wear and tear. They're just made to wear in one or two scenes of them looking pretty and walking through a room. But alas, that lovely green dress was ruined.

They didn't have much time with Sir Ian Holm, so they only had a week to get a mold of his face and make the old-age prosthetics for the Grey Havens. But then word came down that he didn't want to have prosthetics, so they were to just make him look old with makeup. They were really disappointed, but then on the day, Ian Holm saw the prosthetics sitting off in the corner and asked what it was. When they explained, he said it wasn't true, and insisted on them putting the prosthetics on instead.

One thing that was really impressed upon me during this whole commentary (over all three movies) was just how much love and joy all of the crew had for the project. Sometimes you watch a movie or read a book that really means a lot to you, that's changed your life, and you wonder if the people who made it fully grasp what a beautiful thing they've created. These people know. They were fully aware, from start to finish, that they were making something truly great and worthy of praise. And I think that's beautiful.

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Dark Details of Arcane Season 1

Five of some of the darker, more morbid details you might not notice watching for the first time.

1. Silco's Shadow

In s1e6, when Marcus opens the door to his daughter's bedroom, Silco leans forward to place cards on the house he and Ren are building. For a brief moment, however, his shadow appears to be strangling Marcus' daughter.

This eery juxtaposition of course foreshadows the threat Silco will soon make to Marcus and the hidden danger he poses to Ren. It is also ironic considering what happened to Silco.

2. Jinx's Voices Trying to Convince Her

In s1e9, during the dinner party scene, you can hear a voice whisper something to Jinx after Caitlyn points pow-pow towards her. It is difficult to make out, but listening closely you can hear:

"It's time to leave them."

This prompts Jinx to whip her pistol out towards Caitlyn, who is already aiming towards Jinx, nearly getting killed in the process.

Supposedly you can hear this phrase during some other scenes involving her psychosis, however this is the only scene in which it appears in Netflix's subtitles.

Earlier in the scene Vi tells Jinx that:

"We can just go... we'll leave and never come back!"

This triggers Jinx's psychosis. She asks where they would go, looks over to Mylo, and says,

"No... no, no, she's not saying that..."

3. Message to Silco

If you look closely at the table in the dinner party, you can see that Jinx, furious and hurt after overhearing Silco's apparent plans to "betray" her, wrote "DIE" on the table in front of him.

After accidently killing him, Jinx looks down emotionlessly at the table, exactly where she wrote that word.

4. Painting Parallel

The scene of Silco cradling Jinx on the bridge is likely meant to be a visual reference to the 1880s painting Ivan the Terrible and his Son by Russian artist Ilya Repin. The story behind the painting parallels a different scene.

The painting depicts Ivan cradling his dying son after he struck him on the head in a fit of rage. Ivan is horrified and grief-stricken at what he has done, placing his hand over his son's wound in a hopeless attempt to take it back.

This foreshadows Jinx killing Silco when she is no longer in the right state of mind, as well as her immediate shock and regret. She even begins to place her hands over his wound before realizing there is nothing she can do.

5. Aftermath of the Bridge Explosion

In episode 8 when Jayce visits the bridge, we get a brief shot of the aftermath of Jinx's explosion, and looking more closely one can see just how gruesome it is.

Blood splattered everywhere, intestines spilling out, blown off limbs, and even brain matter can be made out in this graphic scene. The rest of the shot, however, is very beautiful.

Arcane was originally going to be even bloodier. In the storyboards Jinx punches the arcade so hard her knuckles bleed all over it.

In the original layout animation, blood sprays on the camera when she bashes a firelight with Pow-Pow, and she even smiles with glee.

[surelyspacejunk]

'Sainthood' in the Shadow Realms

When I was exploring Enir-Ilim, the pillars made of humans reminded me of stories of the 'Hitobashira' in Japan (which literally means 'human pillar'.) Hitobashira was the practice of sacrificing humans before a grand project (such as bridges or castles) to appease gods and ensure the success of the project. In some stories, the sacrifices are entombed/buried alive in the structure as part of the ritual. It was also said that the hitobashira gave the building more structural integrity (with a side effect of the occasional vengeful spirit because not all sacrifices were willing participants.) You can read the wikipedia entry for hitobashira here if you're interested.

Bringing this back to Elden Ring, I felt like this was the most straightforward explanation to what sainthood meant; becoming human pillars for the gate of divinity to usher in a new god. If building Enir-Ilim required a large number of sacrifices, and the shamans somehow acted as catalysts that stuck more bodies together, it'd make sense why the hornsent would hunt them to extinction. It would also make sense why it wasn't just the numen put in jars, it was as many people as they could fit to complete the project.

If this is correct, then it makes sense why it wouldn't matter if the people in the pots were willing or not, their sacrifices would ensure the Gate of Divinity would be made and have their deaths honored in the name of 'sainthood'. The parallels of unwilling sacrifices/martyrdom and direct visual wordplay on hitobashira/human pillars make me think that this explanation is as simple as it gets. It was also shown that in The Lands Between, jar folk were used to bring bodies back to the Erdtrees, so it would make sense if their predecessors in the Shadow Realm also had a role in bringing bodies to Enir-Ilim.

[last-flight-of-fancy]

Started thinking about Riku-Kairi parallels and symbolism wrt the ending of kh2 so please hold while i get needlessly verbose about it-

specifically it started with this gif

and ofc adhd is as adhd does and started going down the rabbit hole of connecting the dots.

The act of reaching out a hand/hand holding is a recurring thing in kh, the vast majority of which is chock full of meaning and symbolism, and this is no exception. This is the culmination of The Hero's Journey part of Sora's tale, the return home, and the heartfelt reunion between long-seperated friends. fun fact the heroine's journey follows the hero's journey for the first third or so before continuing on. kinda like how kh continued on long after things seemed to be 'resolved'. weekly plug to look up Howler's Heroine's Journey essays if you haven't yet

The angle from which I am viewing this scene right now is in regards to ofc Riku, and his own iconic pose that we see the first time in the intro to kh1 (and many, many times since)

And this is where my riku-kairi-are-inverted-parallels-to-each-other brain starts barking like a dog because oughghghghggh same pose opposite side completely different body language- AHG.

And this matches their character arcs (as well as their respective combined arcs with sora) to a T as well. Riku's pose is the first we see, way back in kh1, and his hand is as much a taunt as it is an offer. Very befitting his relationship to sora in that game, which was coloured by a forged rivalry and intense jealousy (to quote the ultimania; Complicated Feelings) of/for sora.

(it is also notable that to date this gesture has yet to be resolved. the closest they've gotten is when sora grasped Riku's hand in kh2 on finding him- albeit in Ansem's visage.

Symbolically this is Sora attempting to accept the gesture, but this time it is Riku who fails to meet him halfway, too deep in guilt and regret to feel worthy of it. his hand is turned downwards, limp and unresisting.

And again in DDD when Riku grabs sora's hand/wrist in an attempt to wake him from his nightmares, but this time sora isn't capable of reciprocating. like two ships passing in the night, always reaching but never quite meeting)

(this one isn't quite as strong in the visual symbolism specific to the Riku Pose, but i did think it bore mentioning)

to return to the first gif however, for Kairi her posture is much less stiff, leaning forward with palpable releif at Sora's return. Honestly the fact that she holds out her left hand (which as far as i know is not her dominant hand) marks this as a very deliberate choice to parallel her as opposite to riku. and much like the rest of kh2's ending, it FEELS like a culmination, a completion of their arcs.... and most certainly isnt.

Which i mean to say, it's a mid-point. And the reason I say this is because of one little thing.

The seashell charm.

There's a sort of irony here in that the charm that was meant to reunite them in this moment is also symbolically like a wedge between them. A heartfelt and meaningful gesture, don't get me wrong! i love this scene and the genuine emotions within, but i do love chewing on the way this gains a slightly different meaning in the greater context of later story beats; specifically that of kh3.

With how pointed and direct the parallel is between kairi and riku in these scenes, it did make me pause for a moment thinking about kh3. i know we've all seen a thousand and one analysis' of the paopu scene at this point, but forgive me as i must do so again under this specific lens.

'how does the paopu scene relate to the hand extended gesture at all?' i hear you ask, and on the visual surface not much. it has more to do with sora and kairi's relationship arc through the games and, of course, the lingering loose thread that was the cave drawing.

The paopu scene is a touching recreation of that cave drawing, one enacted by a pair of kids who didn't know if they would live to see another sunset. It's also probably the most symbollically dense thing in all of kh and that is saying something so I'm going to try and keep my observations limited to just what is relevant to this post- and that would be the way that the paopu scene is a direct continuation of Kairi's 'you're home' gesture in kh2.

shooting stars are also a common recurring symbol in kh, and that's the symbol that ties these two scene's together. if kh1 is two disparate stars each trying to reach the other (the cave drawing, the seashell charm, the way their hands are seperated at the end of kh1), and the end of kh2 is that of the stars finally meeting (the single seashell star charm pressed between their palms), then the paopu scene is that of the stars passing each other by and beginning their own journey's anew (two stars held by crossed arms, each now holding a small piece of the other (bitten fruit) to show that their meeting may have been brief but it was meaningful)

it is in this way that kh3 quietly and tenderly closes out sora and kairi's combined arc, as two unlikely friends who then drift apart again, shining brightly for the shared experiance, Remind mostly serves to support that finality, tying up the last couple loose ends between them, and leaving the two far more comfortable with each other than they ever were while that arc was still ongoing (which i read as them no longer being uncertain as to what their relationship is; that of friends, and not whatever so many others around them had pushed and assumed)

(seriously look at how much more comfortable they are with each other the second the pressure to be something they're not is off. the awkwardness is completely gone i love it)

All of this is ofc still in parallel to Riku, who boasts no such star imagery (instead he has the iconic Heart of KH itself), and in fact while he symbollically continues to reach out to sora, physically he has completely refrained from doing so at all- in fact most examples of the Gesture in kh are deliberately invoked by other characters in order to bring riku to mind in some way (and often more for the players benifit than sora's)

axel in CoM,

(i have given up on tumblr gif search)

YMX in DDD,

which then immidiately cuts to riku in kh1 just to make it as blatant as possible that yes the reference is intentional (i guess CoM was too subtle somehow so they had to make sure this time)

and even Riku himself to Namine at the end of kh3, representing Repliku's final wishes in a funny sort of symbolism oroboros.)

and it's not a coincidence that the completion of that connection provides definitive closure to the arcs in question; that of namine to repliku, but also a little bit to riku himself. namine still has a role to play, but that role (i think) is more or less exclusive to her relationship with sora. namine and riku's relationship arc, background as it is, is complete, and now both are connected primarily through their incomplete arcs with sora.

(which makes the way that sora and kairi's example in kh2 is a complete outlier really interesting tbh. smth smth thinking your relationship is one thing and if it was that thing then yes that would have been the end, but it wasn't that thing and thus it wasn't the end smth smth comphet metaphor smth)

which brings us back to how riku himself hasn't really reached out to sora directly since kh1, the act that set off both of their journey's. The reasons for that are many- guilt, fear, a certainty that sora will not reach back and that he doesn't deserve it anyway- but despite that the Gesture is still subtly affirmed as being Riku's over and over again, never quite letting the audience forget it... because eventually this bit of symbolism so consistently portrayed throughout the series will reach its own conclusion, starting how it began with one deuteragonist reaching out to the other, and this time the other reaching back to complete the gesture.

[helioscopepdx]

The Schweizer Guide to Spotting Tangents

A fantastic resource from friend-of-the-studio @schweizercomics, who wrote this guide back in 2011. Read on for a goldmine of information (and visual examples) about avoiding tangents in your work!

Comic art is, as a general rule, a line-based medium. I know, I know, there are plenty of artists whose work is painted, or who depict their subject in ink using solely light and shadow. But these folks are unquestioningly in the minority, as the history of printing technology originally dictated the use of line to depict form in the early days of comics. This became a stylistic expectation, and it’s an expectation that I enthusiastically embrace, as have many others. But using line to draw the world invites chances for that cardinal sin of composition: the tangent. 

A tangent is when two or more lines interact in a way that insinuates a relationship between them that the artist did not intend. It can create confusion on the part of the audience as to what it is that they’re looking at. It can cause the spatial depth that one attempts to cultivate through the use of planes to become flattened. Most of all, it creates a decidedly unwelcome aesthetic response: tangents are just plain ugly. There are a lot of different types of tangents, as least according to the way I define them. In order to make it easier on my students when giving critiques, I’ve categorized them and named them. This may have been done before, but I’ve not encountered it. My hope is that, by making this “spot-the-enemy” guide, fewer artists will fall into the tangent trap by knowing what to look for.   

1. The Long Line

The long line is when a line from one object runs directly into the line of another. This is the tangent that everybody knows. The one that’s easiest to spot, easiest to avoid.  For a lot of folks, this is the only thing meant when one refers to a “tangent.” Even in the work of the very best comic artists, a vigilant eye can find the occasional tangent.  Even when a cartoonist is constantly on the lookout, a tangent can slip through.  But, as each of strive to better ourselves and the quality of our work and our medium, 

2. The Parallel

The parallel tangent is when the containing lines of two objects run alongside each other.  This causes one of two negative outcomes.  Either one object becomes “lost,” as the other overpowers it (figure 1), or one object feels strangely contained by another (figure 2). This can be avoided by ensuring that any object that COULD run alongside another is angled at least 45 degrees from the first. The next two are REALLY tough to spot, and most artists have fallen victim to them before.   

3. The Corner

The corner tangent is when two lines in an object meet in a way intended by the artist, but another (accidental) line runs directly into the place where they meet.   

4. The Bump-Up

A bump-up tangent is when the containing line of one object “bumps up” against the containing line of another object.   When these two lines touch, it creates a bump-up tangent (and even when they don’t technically touch, if it’s close enough to raise eyebrows, they might as well).  The bump-up gives the impression of containment.  In figure 1, it seems as though her ponytail is physically unable to enter the space occupied by the pole.  In figure 2, it feels as though her elbow is unable to LEAVE that space.

Also, be careful not to let elements of the drawing bump up against your panel borders!  Either give them room to breathe or decisively crop them.   

5. The Directional

A directional tangent is basically just a long-line tangent that’s been broken by empty space.  Now, this one isn’t always bad – it can, on occasion, be used to draw the reader’s eye through the image on a specifically determined path.

6. The Panel-to-Panel

This one is exactly the same thing as the directional (in fact, I shouldn’t even classify it as its own thing), save that instead of empty space dividing a long-line it’s a panel gutter. My gutters are crazy wide, but with normal-sized gutters this can be a real problem.   One more thing… This ain’t a tangent, but it is a compositional no-no. 

Fake Panels

Comics generally have panel borders, so readers are used to having images contained by straight lines.  Some artists don’t allow gutters between their borders.  Though I believe that, as a rule, this can make it harder for new comics readers to follow the story (and new readers are always important), it’s done with enough regularity that we must expect the audience to feel comfortable with gutterless pages.  What does this mean?  It means that we can’t draw a straight line in any panel, either vertical or horizontal, without having some object overlap it.  If we do, readers may think that it is a panel border, incorrectly breaking one moment into two.

See how the overlap of the elbow causes there to be no question?

That's it for Lesson #1!

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Tolkien Legendarium:

Understanding Tolkien Legendarium: A Mythology of its Own

Concerning the “Laws and Customs among the Eldar” chapter in “Morgoth’s Ring”

"Rings of Power" meta:

Galadriel/Frodo and Sauron/One Ring in "Rings of Power"

Has anyone noticed the similarities between Sauron and Gollum in “Rings of Power”?

What's the deal with Sauron and Elrond connection in Season 2?

Concerning Sauron

Sauron and his Demonic Facets in “Rings of Power” and Tolkien lore

What are Sauron’s powers in “Rings of Power”?

“I have many names”: Halbrand, the Repentant Mairon in “Rings of Power”

Of Sauron [Hypothetical] Redemption

Is Sauron a narcissist?

No, “Evil” doesn’t “love only itself” in Tolkien lore

Black Hand of Sauron in “Rings of Power”

Concerning Galadriel

Galadriel in Season 1-2 of “Rings of Power”: Valiant, Prideful and the Darkness Within

“some wounds that cannot be wholly cured”

What would happen if Galadriel joined Sauron?

Sauron x Galadriel (Tolkien nerd edition):

Could Saurondriel actually happen in Tolkien lore?

The Physicality of Sauron x Galadriel: Cosmic Connection and Physical Attraction

Of Lust and Sex on Tolkien lore: Sauron x Galadriel in “Rings of Power”

Of Sin and Sinners

Virgin Mary, Galadriel and Sauron x Galadriel in “Rings of Power”

Galadriel x Sauron: One Royal Couple to Rule Them All

Symbol Analysis

Freudian Symbolism: Sauron x Galadriel in Season 1 of "Rings of Power"

Freudian Symbolism: Sauron x Galadriel in Season 2 of "Rings of Power"

Season 1

The Tragedy of Haladriel - Part I

The Tragedy of Haladriel - Part II

Season 2

Sauron's Masterplan in Season 2

Halbrand vs. Sauron from Galadriel POV

"Elrond = Sauron in Adar's tent in 2x07" Theory:

Elrond's Arrival at Eregion in 2x07

Adar and Sauron Recognition in Season 2 (Halbrand/Elrond) and Saurondriel kiss

Megathread: All Clues concerning “Elrond = Sauron” in “Adar meeting/Kiss scene” (2x07) - Part I

Megathread: All Clues concerning “Elrond = Sauron” in “Adar meeting/Kiss scene” (2x07) - Part II

Elrond = Sauron (2x07): Melian of the Valar and Lúthien/Beren parallels

Wrapping-up the loose ends of “Elrond = Sauron” in 2x07 tent scene theory

Sauron and Galadriel scene in 2x08:

"Evil takes Root": The Temptation and Fall of Galadriel

A Darker and Sinister Interpretation of Sauron and Galadriel scene in “Rings of Power” (2x08)

Binding, Force Marriage and Free Will in Tolkien Legendarium

“Last Temptation” because “only blood can bind”

About Morgoth’s crown

What did Sauron meant by “Not All of It” in 2x08? - Sauron's visual and color code analysis

Sauron showing off how truly powerful he is in his fight with Galadriel (2x08)

Galadriel wanted to join Sauron, freely

Why did Galadriel jump off the cliff? #2

Nenya refusing to surrender itself to Sauron (2x08)

Season 3

Let’s talk 1x08 and 2x08 epilogues and how they set up next season

Let’s talk Saurondriel Season 3: Predictions

“Dark!Galadriel" needs to happen in “Rings of Power” Season 3

"The Demon" by Mikhail Lermontov, and parallels with Sauron x Galadriel (predictions for Season 3)

[abstractmouse]

This is sort of a "missing scene" I wish could have been in s2a1. The bit after the memorial fight serves mostly the same purpose, but I live for parallels, so I wrote in my own (spoilers: I am not really much of a creative writer).

A couple of things this was meant to accomplish:

-Include visual parallels for the bed scene from s1 and Vi grabbing Cait's arm to unsuccessfully calm her down after the Jinx fight in s2.

-Provide precedence for Caitlyn unraveling without Vi's presence.

-Establish the motivation for Vi's willingness to join the enforcers despite her conflicting emotions about it.

Anyway, hope y'all like it!

[tevanbuckley]

what do you think is the sweetest and most well written part of Buck and Tommy's relationship? When they kissed in the first episode they had any kind of meaningful interaction or when Tommy ditched Buck on the curb after their first date and Buck somehow ended up feeling like the asshole about it. If that's a sweet and well written relationship Eddie and Marisol are When Harry Met Sally.

Oh no! They kissed after one episode! How could I forget the only way to write a good on screen romance is to spend at least half a season having them dance around their feelings with enough space for the holy ghost?

And yeah tommy left buck (a grown man in his 30s btw) outside the restaurant, because rather than just not mention they were on a date, buck made up a very weird and uncomfortable lie. bffr that's a "yeah sorry, I just got a text my grandma died," level red flag. I'd have clocked out at the ally comment, and tommy managed to turn that around into flirting!

But anyway thanks for the opportunity to list some sweet bucktommy details so far:

just buck's entire face when he talks to/about tommy, that man is smitten! ((x) if you need visual proof). he has the world's biggest crush on his boyfriend and i want him to be insufferable about it!

tommy's little "so that was okay?" after their kiss kills me every time, it's gentle but also confident and forward (which i think compliments buck's personality very well)

I mean tommy felt so bad about being the cause of problems between buck and eddie, he went to buck's house in person to apologise.

speaking of gentle. Evan. I need, need someone to pick tim minear's brain about the decision to have tommy consistently call him evan, the implications are driving me insane.

the way their relationship is tied up with, imo, one of the most interesting coming out arcs i've seen on tv in years. bi buck is very special to me and like it or not tommy is a part of that.

I love the detail of buck getting tommy's order wrong, they could've easily gone the "omg, you got my order right the first time, we're meant to be!" route, but imo there's something refreshing about showing love as this thing you have to work to build vs something that magically happens to you.

and the invisible string/full circle symbolism potential is insane. The fact chimney saved tommy's life, the parallel of tommy needing to leave the 118 to find himself which in turn left a spot in the exact place buck needed to do the same. The way buck is the reason that chimney meets maddie and then years later chim (potentially) returns the favour. They've stumbled into a writing goldmine here and i think they'd be fools to waste it.

look i'll readily admit i've no clue where they might be taking bucktommy, tbh i don't think tim minear knows, but they've sure as hell crammed a lot of potential into those 2 + a bit episodes. That's what people are responding to.

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 2 | Read Part 1 here.

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+ (In future Parts)

CW (For whole story): Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 6.66k😈

*Reminder, this is part 2.

Halsin’s gaze roamed over your face, your hair, and you unconsciously hugged your robe a bit tighter. You weren’t typically a shy person, but something about his visual inspection made your cheeks flush and you had to fight the urge not to swipe a piece of hair behind your ears. Instead, you held his gaze, as best as you could anyway.

“Your hair is styled differently,” he proceeded, “and the top of your ears no longer have their tips. And yet… you are as beautiful now as you were then. Clearly, nature still works its wonders, even in this foreign place.”

You nearly gasped at his words as a wave of flutters tickled your belly. And his smile only further enhanced the prickling goosebumps racing across your skin. Speechless, a torrent of silence stretched between you and the man with the pointed ears. In mere moments, the air felt thick with tension, unspoken words, confusion, questions, and so much more. You were starting to get lost in his intense eyes again, the way he looked at you with such fondness. And you knew at that moment your heart was correct. He wouldn’t hurt you. He was safe. But there was still so much you didn’t know.

As if detecting your thoughts, he cleared his throat and expanded his chest a little, like he was bracing himself. “I get ahead of myself. Now, as I promised you, I will explain all. Shall we sit?”

You glanced at the counter next to you where tall chairs lined up together, and shook your head. Your legs would’ve been a shaking mess if you were forced to remain in a seated position, anxiously awaiting his words. Somehow you felt steadier on two feet, with one hip leaning slightly against the side of the island.

“Standing is fine.”

Halsin nodded. “Very well.”

He took two, calm strides forward, closer to the other side of the countertop, directly across from you. He closed his eyes, his large chest rising and falling. A gold emblem of a leaf on his chest gleamed beneath the warm light, but when he opened his eyes again, he had your complete attention.

“The place I mentioned earlier, Faerûn, where I hail from, is a realm far from here. It can only be accessed by opening a very particular and powerful portal. It is how I arrived in this world myself, through the Astral Plane, and then here I—"

You lifted a hand, stopping him. “Sorry- portal? Astral Plane? Next thing you’ll say is you’ve once seen dragons breathe down fire from the sky, or you have pointed ears because you’re an—

“An elf,” he interjected, smiling. “Both of which you mention are true. Though I’ve been told I’m rather large for one.” A gentle chuckle sounded from his throat, it would’ve been comforting were your face not contorted in complete bafflement.

“You’re an elf?” You half laughed, incredulous. But at your reaction, the trace of humor that marked his face waned.

“Yes,” he simply responded, calm. “The Oak Father warned me that there would be many changes in this world. Your world. I now presume the mention of portals and dragons will be among the many number of differences for all I have to say.”

You exhaled, absentmindedly shaking your head. The longer you looked at him, the more you could tell he meant what he was saying, or at least he believed it enough. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you couldn’t even conjure up the question of who the hell the Oak Father was. And you got the sense that Halsin, in whatever tale he was about to unravel, was just scratching the surface.

“You’re being serious.” You weren’t really asking, more so stating.

“I am.”

“You’re an elf? How is that even…” you trailed off, speechless. How was that what? Possible? How was anything he was saying possible? As a writer, you were a believer in ‘anything is possible’ but when that anything was a six-and-a-half foot, maybe more, henched elf…

“Are there no elves in this world?” One of his brows was slightly raised.

“No. No elves, no dragons. Just an overpopulated amount of humans.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “That would explain the change in your ears, though I suppose you could’ve become any race on any plane.”

You gasped, blinking rapidly. He was starting to lose you, speaking to you like he knew you, like there was some other version of you.

Halsin must’ve sensed the havoc firing in your brain because he stepped forward, and you heard the sound of the chair scraping the floor as he bumped into it. You raised a hand to halt him, even though the entire island still separated you.

Without actually saying it, he was basically calling you an elf. There was a sudden twitch along the rim of your right ear at the mere thought. There was more to this tale, just hear him through. Closing your eyes for a few seconds, you breathed deeply and silently vowed that you wouldn’t interrupt again, or at least you would try not to. You opened your eyes. “Alright then… continue.”

He nodded, releasing a heavy breath of his own. He took a moment to analyze you before proceeding. “Faerûn is where I met you. You and your companions had saved me from the cruel shackles of a brutish goblin camp.” His mouth twisted in disgust, before smoothing out again. “Then you helped to save my grove, a druid’s sanctuary under my govern- from slaughter and being cut off from the world. I knew then… that you would become most important to me.” A warm smile melted into his cheeks and that fondness in his gaze returned. Yes, you were indeed safe with him.

“So I joined you,” he carried on, “on a journey of high adventure where you and your companions welcomed me with open arms. You became my friends, and soon after, my family.”

He went on to explain the depths of your adventures together and how you faced all sorts of formidable foes and challenges. He spoke of the times you cleansed curses, cut down hags, slayed devils, ended a vampire lord, and destroyed would-be gods. It was all so much, and yet the way Halsin delivered this tale, how he articulated each word so careful and precise in his language, was exceptionally poetic. He connected words in ways you wouldn’t think of, as though he came from a time long past.

And even though he was telling you tales of the sort of things you’d usually read about or see in movies, which made it even more unbelievable, you were extremely immersed. He made it easy to follow along to imagine the landscapes, the campsites, and your companions. No, your friends, apparently.

An interesting group from the way he described them. There were some strange words you caught here and there like githyanki or tiefling, but also very familiar ones like vampire and wizard. He described one who had red skin and two horns, one cut halfway- she was among your first closest friends, he said. After forming your group, before you met him, she had been the one you connected with swiftly, more of an open book than the other women. But in time, they too became like your sisters.

And the vampire was another close friend of yours, a sincere bond that blossomed from such a fragile heart. You once shared a brief romantic relationship with this white-haired elf, but came to realize your bond thrived better in the waters of friendship. You wished you could’ve seen all Halsin was describing, what he was imagining from his faraway look while he recounted this intriguing world. You knew that your own mental images weren’t doing it justice.

“…and our bond only grew stronger, rooted in the depths of the earth.” The more Halsin spoke, the more the leaves decorating his shoulders lowered as he relaxed. Sometimes he spoke faster than he seemed to intend, eager to share all he could with you. “And in battle, you were magnificent as always, the way the crackle of lightning simmered over your fingers, or how your longsword was blazed in fire, smiting your foes with no mercy. I knew to never stray on your bad side.” Halsin chuckled at this, a deep rumble from his throat.

You wished you could return the sentiment, but you could only half smile in return, a dull ache in your gut. It all sounded too incredible, fascinating really. But to your disappointment, none of it meant anything to you. You found yourself genuinely wanting to connect with his story, the world he painted for you.

And the way he spoke about you, there was something so incredibly deep there, raw, pure, powerful. You could feel that he cared for you in ways that went far beyond just friends or casual lovers. He cared for you possibly more than anyone you’ve ever known, or at least cared for whoever this version of you was. Someone fierce, powerful, a leader…and could wield magic?

“You’ve talked about magic a lot,” your voice filled the room, taking the chance to speak while Halsin paused his story, “that all of your—our- friends had it, because of access to the Weave?” You narrowed your brows, glancing at Halsin for some silent reassurance. When he nodded, you continued. “And some were closer to magic than others or accessed it in different ways… so are you telling me that you have this magic even now?”

Halsin grinned. “I do. And I presume that is but another change in your world.”

You hummed. “There is magic, in a way… rituals, spells, but definitely not how you’ve described it. It all sounds like the sorts of things I read and write about.”

Halsin stood straighter, his chest expanding as that proud grin still painted his face. “May I demonstrate?”

Your stomach flipped. “Demonstrate? Right- right here?”

“If you wish?” Halsin raised one hand, letting it hover off to the side as he stared at you, silently waiting for your permission.

You looked up at him, shifting between both of his eyes before settling on his waiting hand. There was no way this was about to happen. Magic? Fresh nerves stormed in your belly, but it was mostly fueled by a wave of excitement, just the tiniest hint of fear lingered in its depths. You had no idea what to expect; maybe a magic trick? Some sort of illusion? You swallowed, meeting his eyes again. With a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay, go ahead.”

Halsin, still smiling, turned his attention to his hand. You watched him close his eyes, almost lost in the wave of peace that washed over him, finding it easier to inspect his features without his eyes trained on you. He truly was a beautiful man. You watched his lips that seemed to mumble a bit, and random twitches in his eyes like he was searching behind closed lids. He looked at peace, and damn if peace didn’t look wonderful on him.

The scars across his brows did nothing to diminish his appearance, and you couldn’t help but imagine what caused such a wound. Halsin hadn’t mentioned that in his story, at least not yet. You clenched your teeth a bit, suddenly feeling upset that something would dare harm this man in such a way. He was still a stranger, and it even surprised you to feel this strange sense of…protection over him? Whatever caused the scar, you just knew Halsin didn’t deserve it.

Your expression softened, and you felt like you could stare at him forever, fixing his image in your mind. But forever was short-lived as something else caught your eye. From the palm of Halsin’s hand, a tendril of soft, golden light flowed upward, accompanied by two more. You gasped, frozen, completely entranced at the sight before you. You half noticed Halsin open his eyes, but you couldn’t take yours away from the cloudy mist of golden light that streamed and danced in slow, intertwining patterns. The room suddenly felt warmer, comforting, like it was suddenly the safest place on the planet.

“Magic,” you heard Halsin murmur, and you finally looked at him once more, nearly gasping again.

The light reflected against his eyes, causing a warm glow as he stared at you carefully, gauging your reaction. The golden-yellow light danced across his face, shadowing and lighting certain features as it moved. You weren’t sure what to focus on- Halsin, or the orb of energy he seemed to conjure just from his hand. As though sensing your thoughts again, Halsin made it easier to choose. He extended his hand over the counter, directly to you. The tendrils of light slithered away from his hand, reaching for you, lazily flowing towards your hand.

Surprisingly, you didn’t flinch but remained so still, the only thing racing was your heart as a tickle fluttered over your hand on first contact. You watched the golden glow travel up your hand, passing over your cheek and simultaneously spreading across your chest. It was warm, like a soft blanket of protection. It was a strange energy that seemed to be attracted to you, both exploring and revering you as it encompassed you entirely. You released a sudden gasp, overwhelmed by the tingles that crept up your spine and expanded across your chest. A near-weightlessness feeling washed over you. Another sigh as the magic finally dissipated, leaving you with a deep sense of peace as a gift. A gift of…magic.

“Magic thrives where it belongs.” The sound of Halsin’s deep timbre shook you out of your sudden stupor. “It always knows its way home.”

Breathing a bit harder now, you placed both hands firmly on the counter, losing the stillness from before. Your robe loosened slightly but still managed to cover yourself mostly. “That was…amazing.”

Halsin’s smile was just as warm as the magic he recently conjured. “As are you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you were immediately lost in the beautiful warmth of Halsin’s gaze. His hands were also leaning on the counter, with the one he used for his spectacle being placed closer to you.

A million and one thoughts danced in your brain: affection, wonder, intrigue, confusion. The impossible becoming possible before your very eyes. An invisible thread formed between the two of you; a bond that ached to reel you into each other, a magnetic force awakening after finally finding the right field to pull itself into.

Halsin muttered your name, so sweetly from his lips, his head tilting slightly. A chill swarmed up your back at his voice. You decided then that you liked the way he said your name, almost breathy. He sounded so close. You would’ve sworn he whispered it into your ear except you were very much staring at him across the kitchen island.

“Halsin?” you managed to mutter, sensing the faint shakiness in your breath.

“Yes?” He was intensely focused on you, eager for whatever you were about to request. If you could read his mind, you’d assume he was ready to march around the counter to get closer to you the second you allowed it.

“What happened with… us? Why did you come here?” You nearly regretted it the moment you asked as his face fell and his shoulders slumped. But you had to know.

He hadn’t finished all he had to say, and you still had too many questions. From everything he said, it sounded like you had an amazing life together, all things considered, so what went wrong? Why was this man -elf- standing in the middle of your kitchen, in the middle of the night, from a land far, far from home?

Halsin’s hand slipped back, and he glanced away, frowning. Your stomach felt uneasy at his change in tone, in demeanor. But you patiently waited.

Still looking away from you, Halsin breathed deeply. “After we defeated the Absolute, and helped repair the city, we all went our own ways, for the most part.” He spoke so softly, quiet. “You and I returned to what once was Reithwin, where we lifted the curse. We built a wonderful life together. We spent two decades there, in blissful peace, occasionally leaving to visit our friends, sometimes taking us away from home a few months at a time, with your encouragement. Other times they’d come to us, staying for days or weeks at a time. It was a fulfilling life.” He finally met your eyes again, smiling gently but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“We were so happy,” he expressed, a faint lightness in his tone. “There were many moments I feared I would wake, and you would have moved on, ending the dream…. But you were always there, wrapped around me as the rising sun illuminated our room. And you never failed to reassure me how happy you were, with our life, with me.”

There was a sadness laced in Halsin’s calm voice and each moment a flicker of dread occupied his eyes as he stared at you while he spoke. You rubbed your lips together, trying but failing to suppress your fleet of nerves. Tonight had to be a record for how often your heart rate rose and calmed.

“One day,” he exhaled a deep breath, trembling. “We received urgent word from Lae’zel, calling for us all to meet her in the Astral Plane. She and her people were finally so close to defeating Vlaakith once and for all but needed the help of old friends to ensure victory. I was a bit hesitant to take on another such venture after a time of peace… but she was our family. To deny her our aid was out of the question.”

The gravity in his voice expressed to you how serious this choice was. You still had no recognition of who Lae’zel was, only from the brief stories he told. But here on Earth, you did have friends of your own who you would go to hell and back for, and they’d do the same for you. So you admired Halsin’s decision to aid this Lae’zel.

“So we prepared as best we could,” Halsin continued, “calling upon old allies who would be able to lend a hand and once again fight alongside the Saviors of Baldur’s Gate.” He made a gesture with his hands like he was about to introduce someone to a stage. “And before we knew it, we were back in the Astral Plane. It was chaos, magic against magic, dragons against dragons.”

He closed his eyes, his nose scrunched up in disgust as though reliving the memory all over again. It made your heart quicken the more he uncovered about this battle in a space where time did not exist. He told you that Vlaakith may very well have been a god, or was exceptionally close to godhood than ever before.

Halsin exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “We’ve faced formidable foes, as I mentioned, and she earned her place among them.” He looked away again, half turning his body. “We were waning. Vlaakith had great losses, but we were tiring ourselves just the same. Every blade, every cut, every flicker of magic was followed by a strange exhaustion. Perhaps the Astral Plane had unpredictable effects. It seemed to make us stronger but for a limited time and when that effect wore off…”

“She started winning,” you muttered. Not so much to him, but to yourself. You could almost picture it: fighting in a space of endless time, amongst stars, floating rock, and deceased titan-like gods. You emerged from your inner thoughts as Halsin began to speak again.

“But we have been broken before, and we never gave in to defeat. So we fought, and fought, using all the strength our bodies would allow, all the magic our energy could conjure…And we had done it. We defeated the tyrant, together, as we’ve always done, this time Lae’zel delivered the final strike. But—”

A rough breath left Halsin’s mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, fist clenching. You absentmindedly moved towards the side of the island, not completely coming to Halsin’s side, but noticeably closer than before.

Your heart was hammering, anxious for him to continue. But you had no words at the moment, only allowing Halsin to gather himself until he was ready to proceed. A few seconds, then more, and he opened his eyes, obliviously staring at the now empty space you occupied moments before.

“But Vlaakith still drew breath,” he gritted his teeth, a sudden ire dripping from his tone.

It almost frightened you, to sense the simmering rage that crept up his throat. This man who had been so calm, so gentle towards you, and still was, now seemingly fighting back an old vengeance. It was like the room suddenly felt heavier, brought down by a foreign anger that had nowhere to go.

You already missed the occasional smiles that graced his face a short time ago, the warmth of nature in his eyes as he gazed at you. Another breath left the large man’s lips, his broad chest rising and settling into a gentle rhythm. When he spoke again, there was still a taste of an underlying anger in his voice, more hidden now that he was no longer clenching his teeth.

“Vlaakith would not let death capture her without another,” he said, still not meeting your eyes. “With her last strength, she aimed a fatal blow at Lae’zel only to miss…” He finally turned to look at you, sorrow dragging down his face. “She missed because you leapt in front of her instead.”

Even under the dim lighting, you could’ve sworn the color left his tanned face. Your stomach tightened and a sudden wave of nausea lingered in the depths of your belly. You suddenly felt panicked, shocked, and tired all at once; like you were experiencing someone else’s emotions, someone else’s pain. You rested your elbows on the counter, leaning your weight onto it.

“So Vlaakith,” you swallowed, taking a breath. “Killed her instead? Killed…me?”

“Yes,” Halsin answered quickly, as if desperate to move past that truth. He started shaking his head, overcome by emotions. “It all happened too quickly. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. And by the time you fell in my arms, the Astral Plane was already beginning to claim you. You looked at me and…you said, in the most angelic voice I know…in every life.”

A wave of dread washed over you, sneaking into your pores and threatening to drown out your soul. You weren’t remembering anything, you weren’t visualizing this fatal moment and yet it felt like your lungs had the air violently sucked out of it. You clenched your teeth, trying to calm yourself and also feign that you were okay, not wanting to watch Halsin’s face contort to anymore worry. Grasping the edge of the counter, you were acutely aware of Halsin still speaking.

“So I spent the next 11 years without you, until one night, a dream. You came to me.” Halsin’s words pulled your attention back to him, your ears honing in on this new information. “It was unlike any other I’ve had of you before. It was…urgent. Real. You were repeatedly telling me to find you, your voice blending in and out of earshot. And just before I woke, your voice came beside my ear, I could feel your breath tickle my skin, you said but one word…‘Earth’.”

“I…I said that?” you stammered a bit, throat dry, trying to quell the strange reactions undertaking your body.

Halsin nodded, terse. “You did. I did not understand it at the time, for the only earth I knew was the grass and dirt beneath my feet.” He bowed, placing a fist across his chest. “But with the wisdom of Silvanus, and the aid of the greatest wizard I’ve ever met, I learned that Earth was a place. A world. Your new world.” Halsin turned, taking a step along the counter, then another, towards you. But he stopped when he caught your expression, and you silently thanked him for it.

You sensed he wanted to be comforting, to tell you this news as gently as possible, but it was becoming all too overwhelming again. You almost wanted to ask if he could conjure up some more magic so you could get enveloped in its sweet, soothing embrace again. So it could untwist the knots in your stomach and calm the rate of your heart with its golden light.

Halsin lowered his head, sullen, occasionally shifting his eyes from you to the empty space at your side. “It took another year to figure out how to open the right portal and the right amount of magic it demanded.” His voice was softer, lower, like he was losing confidence the more he continued to speak. “I was warned that it may be difficult to return or that you may not remember me. But I had to try… so Gale, Shadowheart, and myself, with the guidance of Silvanus, Mystra, and Selûne at our backs, entered the astral plane once again. There, a portal for me already awaited…”

He stared at you, softly searching your eyes, daring another tentative step closer. “And then I came here, to you… to the greatest love my heart has ever known.”

“Halsin…” you breathed, but he raised his hands, halting you.

“This may not be Faerûn, and elven blood may no longer flow through your veins. But your face, your eyes, your very soul is just the same. I can feel it.”

Another fleet of nerves sliced through you, your heart pumping fiercely in your ears, the beat of your pulse so intense within your wrists. Halsin was almost standing directly before you now, the heat radiating off his large frame reached for you, as eager as the golden tendrils of magic.

But he stopped before closing the distance entirely, not crossing the small threshold of space still between you. You avoided his gaze, but could still feel him watching you, and could hear the quick pacing of his breath, like he was trying his damnedest to calm himself.

Your name left his lips, a gentle plea to guide your attention back to him. An involuntary flutter decorated your cheeks when he said your name that way, the gentleness of it, fueled with decades of love. But even that was not enough to quell your pounding heart. You were stuck trying to understand everything Halsin was telling you, this man, this elf. This elf who was apparently 350 years old when you embarked on this wild adventure together, with friends who weren’t all human, and who could do great and magical things. You could do great and magical things. It was all so incredible, but also, it was too much…

Halsin’s deep timbre filled your ears, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice. “What are you thinking, my heart?”

“Please,” you muttered, startled by his tender words of affection. “You shouldn’t say that…” You dared a look at him, noting the strict narrowing in his brows and confusion in his expression.

So he said your name again, as a question this time, fear accompanying his voice. You sighed, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed with each passing second. His presence was so much, the closeness, his warmth, his words of affection for a love once lost. A love he believed to be you. So, you took two steps back, needing to reclaim the distance between you two, needing to find room to breathe and to think.

Your throat felt dry and you promptly found yourself reaching for a nearby water bottle, hastily swallowing as much of the water as you could. Breathing rapidly, you put the bottle aside and steadied yourself with both hands on the counter.

“Halsin, I…I don’t know…”

He remained still, careful not to further overwhelm you by standing too close. “You are having trouble believing me?”

You half-laughed, bringing your hands to your head, and dug your fingers into your hair. “Quite the opposite. In fact, this would be so much easier if I didn’t believe you.” You started pulling at your scalp, just a little before releasing your grip.

You started moving around the island but remained mindful not to get too close to Halsin, a million thoughts racing in your head. “If I didn’t believe you then I could just assume you were crazy, and that I was crazy for letting you in my house and I’d just ask you to leave and probably call the cops. It would be one hell of a story to tell my friends but—” You stopped pacing, finding the courage to look at him again. His expression was a mixture of emotions, but the worry in his eyes overtook them all.

“I believe you, Halsin.”

He smiled, warm, the expression so beautiful on his face. And it nearly broke your heart.

“I believe that you come from a place of what people here would deem impossible, and you had these amazing friends, and a life with…” you closed your eyes, breathing deeply. “But I’m not her, Halsin…”

You opened your eyes to find his smile falling, the sight nearly ripping you in two. You ignored the incessant nerves that ravaged your stomach, the loud beat of your heart that just could not rest. “I believe that you cared for that part of me... but that isn’t who I am, Halsin. I have no memory of anything you speak of. I have an entire life here.”

Halsin said nothing, silence seizing him. You rushed on, question after question, whatever thought you could pull out of your head from the sea of endless thoughts. “What am I supposed to do with this, Halsin? What was your plan after finding me?”

You waved your arms aimlessly, unable to control the issues spilling out of your mouth. “Am I supposed to go to your world, now? Do you stay in mine? Do you just sleep on my couch and we talk about it in the morning?”

“Perhaps, if you wish to wait for the morning sun, I—"

“No, Halsin. I don’t wish for that.  I—I don’t know what to do. But I do know this…”

You regarded him, taking a moment to gather yourself. He stood patiently, so quiet, and yet his eyes said so much. A budding fear was digging its claws into this large elf, right before your eyes. “I’m afraid, Halsin.”

He frowned, taking a step back and you quickly moved forward, throwing your hands up. “No, no!” you exclaimed, halting him. “Not afraid of you, I know I’m safe with you. I just…I think I’m afraid of all of this. I don’t know how to handle it. Maybe I need time or maybe I need…ugh.” You groaned in frustration, unable to find the words, unable to process.

Halsin lowered his head, a deep breath, then another. A twang of guilt poked against your chest, though you knew you had nothing to feel guilty for. He seemed like he was an incredible man. He was gorgeous, calm, a fantastic talker, and above all he managed to make you feel entirely safe despite his foreboding stature.

“I’m so, so sorry you lost her, Halsin,” you were half-whispering, careful with your words. “I have no doubt you were so loved. I can tell you are an amazing man and maybe if you and I met in other circumstances, and we were from the same world… who knows…” You tried to sound as comforting as possible but even you felt a twinge of sadness at your words.

And in that moment, you realized you wanted to be that person that Halsin crossed realms for. To be that person who was so deeply loved, and to feel the same in return. But you found it nearly impossible to mentally handle this. It was all so wonderful, phenomenal, unbelievable, and yet you believed it all, down to the very last word. And it terrified you that it was possible.

“I’m just a normal gal, who loves to write and watch movies, play games, and take walks. I’m not that remarkable, powerful sorceress who wielded a sword as skillful as a fighter. I’m not who you loved. I’m just me.” A long breath left your lips, and your shoulders slumped in exhaustion, defeated.

“I understand,” Halsin said, finally gracing you with his voice again. You needed to hear it right now, more than ever. You needed to know he would be okay. “Forgive me…in my haste to find you, to see you again, I failed to consider what that may mean for you.”

You smiled, meekly. “No, you longed to find your love again. If I was in your place, I would’ve rushed at the chance myself. I wish I could’ve given you the reaction you imagined.” Your head slumped, suddenly feeling heavy, and a sea of guilt swam harshly within you.

Halsin sighed, calm. “No, don’t say that. This was a lot to process, a lot to bear.” He walked towards you slowly, watching your expression closely so as to make sure not to overstep. When you didn’t protest or step backward, he proceeded. “And if it means anything, even if you’re just a normal gal, I know in my heart you are extraordinary.”

A burning sensation simmered in your eyes, and you swallowed, trying not to let your emotions completely consume you. Already too overwhelmed by what to even feel. Tilting your head upward, the closer Halsin came, tears almost threatened to spill when you got a deeper look into his eyes. Maybe you just needed time, time to figure out what this meant for you, what it meant for both of you. But how much time that was, you couldn’t predict. But Halsin’s warmth was hovering near you again as his eyes looked all over your face, smiling sadly.

“Thank you,” he murmured., deep “Thank you for opening the door, for allowing me into your home, for letting me gaze upon your beautiful eyes after a decade of only seeing them in my dreams.”

Your lips parted, but no words sounded from them. Only a gasp of uncertainty. An exhale of emotions you couldn’t define. He was leaving, and the thought made your stomach lurch. But what else were he to do? You had no idea yourself, torn between telling him to give you time and just accepting that you weren’t who he sought.

“I will return to Faerûn.” He shut his eyes, breathing deeply, then reopened them. “But it will bring me great peace to leave knowing that you are safe, that I was blessed with such a chance to be in your presence again, whether you recall the memories or not.”

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’ but decided against it. You sensed Halsin wouldn’t want that, he wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for having done nothing wrong.

You took in his face, the small scar on his bottom lip, the red tattoo, the tiny strands of hair above his head that didn’t seem long enough to reach his bun. Halsin stepped closer, almost completely blocking the view behind him. You watched his eyes bore into yours; scanning your face, your cheeks, your lips, like he was reaffirming his image of you.

“I would only request one thing before I leave you,” he spoke deeply, a heaviness in his tone. Then he met your eyes again. “I would very much like to hug you, if you allow it.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head ‘yes’ despite the blood rushing through your veins. “Sure.”

You inhaled quickly and quietly, turning to face him as he moved towards you, never breaking eye contact. In one full stride, you were consumed by his warm, inviting, woodsy aroma with a touch of sweet sandalwood. And as his large arms curled around your frame, you could’ve guessed there was the faintest hint of…vanilla?

Your heart skipped as you turned your face to the side, tentatively resting your cheek against his firm chest. You heard him release a heavy sigh, feeling the strength of his chest as air filled and left his lungs. Halsin’s heart thumped rapidly against your ears, outpacing your own. You frowned slightly, spreading your arms further around his waist, as best as you could reach, and squeezed gently. Halsin responded to this, his thick muscles tightening around you, pulling you closer until you were almost cocooned in his protective and endearing embrace.

Halsin’s warmth was so consuming, steadily relaxing the rushing blood in your veins. His heart also seemed to calm, though still at a higher rate than what you presumed to be normal. Without thinking, you let your eyes close, feeling the bottom of his chin rest gently near your head.

You began imagining sitting around a warm campfire, under a star-lit sky. You were enjoying the company of faces you couldn’t make out, positive that you wouldn’t get their image right anyway. But you could almost feel the bond, the stories to tell for decades shared between you all. And beside you, a comforting presence. You saw yourself smiling, resting your head on a familiar shoulder as Halsin hummed a soft tune, his vibrations sending enticing chills down your spine. You smiled, both in this imagination, and while you stood wrapped up in Halsin’s arms.

You felt Halsin’s lower half move away from you a little, already missing the warmth he provided, but his arms remained securely around you. The sound of a distant rumble in his throat, almost something of a groan hit your ears, but you couldn’t be too sure if he was just taking another breath. Whatever it was, it made a spark tickle in your abdomen, and you had to clench your teeth to try and quell the sudden pleasurable feeling.

You weren’t sure how much longer you spent in each other’s embrace, or who made the first move to end this moment of peace. But you were both pulling away from one another, still connected by your hands holding each other’s forearms. You paused, staring up at the pools of genuine care in his mesmerizing eyes.

“Will you be okay?” you inquired, when what you really wanted to ask was ‘maybe you can stay?’ But a lingering fear wouldn’t allow you to, despite it gradually waning by the second.

“As long as you are, then yes.” He rubbed his thumb along your forearm, still hanging onto you. “Finding you at all is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. And I will spend the rest of time being thankful, until my flesh finally yields to nature.”

Your lips parted, eyes darting between his. He left you speechless again, the sincerity in his words, the strength in his tone despite the sadness that made its home there. He stared deeply at you, perhaps waiting for you to completely sever the connection for he lacked the strength to do so himself. You glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, pressed together uneasily as Halsin watched you.

A flutter dashed inside your stomach, your speeding heart anticipating your next move as your gaze lingered on his lips. You exhaled softly, glancing at the scar on his chin, your finger itching to trace it but not wanting to let go of Halsin’s arms. Your gaze rested on his tattoo, where it passed down his cheek. So you leaned upward, pressing some of your weight on your toes. Halsin lowered a bit, assisting you, and slightly tilted his head, exposing more of his tattoo.

And when your soft lips pressed against his warm skin, a fierce electric spark jolted you backward. Your knees buckled and you nearly fell were it not for strong hands already catching you.

Part three!

[mswyrr]

Season 1 has its writing issues, but it accomplished some major character work with Rhaenyra. It took her across a moral threshold and changed some core components of how she relates to others. She begins the season paralleled with Helaena. But she ends the season paralleled with Aemond and Daemon. IMO, the Red Sowing was a major moral Rubicon crossed - and she's changed in permanent, fundamental ways. That was the goal of this season. Partly the reaction to the season is due to how this kind of internal character work isn't usually the focus of Fantasy; it's more common in "realistic" dramas.

First, the comparisons with Helaena. They mourn their sons in visually similar ways, clutching an item of clothing/blanket of the child's.

Then Rhaenyra repudiates the idea that she wanted Jaehaerys' head, specifically by mentioning this similarity and empathy with her little sister:

It's after this scene that she confronts Daemon and rejects his "a son for a son" logic. Then we get the final visual parallel. Both sisters look up and see (in flower petals and dust) the ash that will rain down on the kingdom due to the destruction of a dragon fire war. They're both disturbed by it. Early in the season, Rhaenyra tried to do all she could to prevent that future. By the end of the season, though, she has wholly embraced it.

By the time we get to the Red Sowing (2x07), Rhaenyra has changed her mind - she embraced the fire. Burning people alive for power. She might have introduced the "seeds" to Silverwing, who wouldn't have slaughtered them. But she chose Vermithor. She chose their deaths. And the power felt good. It pushed back the fear and trauma of the early season. As Emma put it:

What is going through Rhaenyra’s mind as she watches the Targaryen bastards be devoured and torched alive? "I think she feels like a god. I think she feels super proud." [interview source] [and major credit to darksvster's meta, which gives full details of where Rhaenyra is at in this episode]

Not only does that happen - but in the next episode, her brother Aemond does the same thing. Massacring people and looking down at it, feeling like a god. Feeling powerful again, after having been made to feel powerless by running up against Rhaenyra's new dragonriders at the end of 2x07.

The visual parallel is as stark as the ones earlier in the season were with Helaena:

They're not being subtle. She is being positioned opposite a brother - a mirror to her enemy - it's just not Aegon, as some people want. But it makes sense that it's the brother driven enough to *take* the crown against the rules of this society - the position of first born noble daughters and second sons has been compared since season 1. They're so close to being the one with the rights to power and yet there's a barrier.

Both of these siblings have crossed that barrier. They will take what this society will not give them. They will take it with fire and blood.

As we see in the next parallel with Aemond. They literally are twinned in two scenes where an as yet untainted female family member challenges them on their policy of burning cities of innocent people:

My final note is that now Rhaenyra is on the same page as Daemon as well. She repudiated his behavior earlier in the season, but now she embraces his return and embraces his core logic. She uses his words, his phrase in a scene where imo we are meant to notice that--while love is still there-- she's being much more cruel to Alicent than she would have ever been in the past:

Daemon has changed in the fact that he will recognize her as the reigning queen, but his morality has not changed. Rhaenyra's has - she is now of a similar mindset as Daemon and Aemond. She uses religion--and her conversations with Mysaria about caring for the smallfolk--to justify it to herself and she believes herself righteous. But the actions and their consequences (people burned alive) are the same. And for the same goal of power.

They are doing all of this so artfully--keeping us so tightly in Rhaenyra's pov where she feels justified as she crosses this moral Rubicon--that it can be difficult to see without pulling back and looking at the clues, the shifting parallels, and the ways her behavior by the end of the season is truly, in pivotal ways, not what it would have once been.