#its just an interesting observation that i am making

[cece693]

hello^^ i have a slightly odd request

would you be willing to do something with Hannibal where like the reader is just off-putting constantly? like always has a blank expression and is just really morbid to the point of weirding out other people- (also whether or not reader is another killer and their relationship is up to you :]) ((and if possible could reader have an obsession with rats? if not its fine!^^))

thank you and no pressure!!! :3

Birds of a Feather (Platonic! Hannibal Lecter x GN! Reader)

Thanks for the request. Since you gave me creative liberty with what relationship the reader has with Hannibal, I'm expanding my creativity and trying to write platonic fanfics. Due to this, and my heart belonging to Hannigram, Will makes an appearance (not Abigail though, never got into her character.) Hope you enjoy it!

Hannibal Lecter had long believed himself immune to the bonds of familial connection. His life was one of solitude by choice, his relationships shallow performances for an unknowing audience. Yet with them—the peculiar, morbid teenager now under his guardianship—something had shifted. He hadn’t planned for this. He had taken them in because he saw a reflection of himself, unpolished and raw, with the potential to be something extraordinary. What he hadn’t anticipated was how deeply he would come to care for them, not as a mentor or an observer, but as a father.

They had first come to Hannibal at their parents’ insistence, dragged into his office under a banner of concern that barely masked their parents’ disdain. They hadn’t even tried to soften the language of their complaint: “They’re morbid. Obsessed with disgusting things like rats and death. They don’t have friends, they don’t smile. They’re weird. Can you fix them?”

Hannibal had known immediately what kind of parents they were—shallow, image-obsessed individuals for whom their child’s uniqueness was an inconvenience to be smoothed over, rather than a gift to be celebrated. He despised them almost as much as they seemed to despise their child. The teenager, however, had been fascinating. When Hannibal asked why they were there, they answered with a flat, emotionless voice.

"Because my parents don’t like me. They think I’m broken."

"And are you?" Hannibal asked, his tone warm, though his eyes studied them sharply.

They had tilted their head slightly, their gaze piercing and calm. "I don’t know. I don’t care if I am."

That first session had been an exercise in subtlety. Hannibal, as always, sought to probe beneath the surface, to see the layers of a person’s mind unfold before him. But with them, there were no layers—no artifice, no carefully constructed mask. They were disarmingly blunt, their morbid interests laid bare without shame.

"I like rats," they said when Hannibal asked what brought them joy. "I have nine of them. Bubonic’s my favorite."

"And why rats?" Hannibal inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"They’re smart. Loyal. They don’t care if you’re weird. They’ll eat a corpse if you leave it there, but it’s not personal. It’s just what they do. Survival instincts."

Their answers were a study in pragmatism, unvarnished and unfiltered. Over time, Hannibal learned more about their life—how their parents had ridiculed their passions, belittled their intellect, and dismissed their feelings as irrelevant. How they had found solace in the company of creatures most would find repugnant, and how they had begun to retreat into themselves, building walls not out of fear but out of indifference.

"My parents said they’d throw them out if I didn’t stop," they admitted one day, their voice betraying the faintest tremor. "The rats. They don’t like them. They don’t like me."

"And how does that make you feel?" Hannibal asked.

They paused, their blank expression unchanging. "I’d kill them if they touched my rats."

Hannibal had smiled faintly at that, sensing not a hollow threat but a declaration of what they believed was justice. Hannibal saw his relationship with the teen as one purely beneficial to him—some form of entertainment during the stagnant moment his life had fallen into. But when the teen arrived one day in session visibly shaken and on the verge of tears, Hannibal felt immense anger.

"Tell me what happened." he said, his voice calm but edged with steel.

The teen sat down at the chair and looked at their hands, fingers trembling. "My dad killed Bubonic," they said quietly. "He was going on again about how weird it was for a person my age to be such a recluse, how disappointed he was in me for not being the child he envisioned. I didn't care, I screamed at him to leave me alone. That all I needed was my rats, he didn't listen," They sputtered, tears finally escaping their eyes.

Hannibal's hands rested lightly on the arm of his chair, though his grip tightened imperceptibly as the teen’s words sank in. Their voice, typically steady and detached, was cracking under the weight of their grief, and Hannibal found himself unprepared for the surge of emotion it evoked in him.

"What did he do?" Hannibal asked, his voice gentle, though his mind already painted the scene in vivid detail.

The teen sniffed, struggling to steady their voice. "He grabbed Bubonic. Said if I loved those 'vermin' so much, then I’d learn what happens when I waste my life on them. He threw him. Against the wall." Their hands trembled in their lap, and then clenched into fists. "I couldn’t stop him. I tried, but I couldn’t—"

Hannibal interrupted softly, his voice firm yet soothing. "It is not your fault. Bubonic’s death lies entirely with your father. You mustn’t take the blame for his cruelty."

They nodded, though their tears continued to fall. For a moment, the room was silent, save for their quiet sobs. Hannibal remained perfectly still, his expression a mask of calm, though inside, a storm brewed. He had long mastered the art of restraint, of hiding the depths of his emotions behind a practiced façade. But now, the threads of that mask were straining.

His anger was not the fiery, impulsive kind that consumed lesser men. It was cold, methodical, the kind that calculated every step of its revenge with precision. He had no doubt about what he needed to do. Bubonic’s death was an affront to the teen’s spirit, an insult to their resilience and individuality, and Hannibal would not allow such an act to go unpunished.

He rose from his chair, moving to kneel in front of them, a gesture of rare intimacy. Gently, he placed a hand on their shoulder, grounding them. His touch was firm yet comforting, like the anchor they so desperately needed.

"You loved him," Hannibal said quietly. "And that love was real. It is not diminished by what your father did. Bubonic mattered, and his memory will not be forgotten."

They looked at him, their tear-filled eyes meeting his calm, steady gaze. For the first time, Hannibal saw a flicker of something beyond their usual detachment—trust, fragile and hesitant, but there. He gave them a faint, reassuring smile, careful to keep the rage simmering inside him hidden from view.

That evening, as Hannibal sat alone in his study, the weight of his decision settled over him like a second skin. He had already made up his mind; there was no room for doubt. The teen’s father was an unworthy man, cruel and petty, whose actions had irreparably harmed his child. The wife was not better, for who would allow such affronts to happen to your child? Hannibal would ensure neither had the opportunity to inflict such pain again.

The deaths were orchestrated with Hannibal’s usual elegance. The scene was staged as a tragic home invasion, violent enough to mislead even the sharpest investigators. The teen’s parents were swept away as easily as pawns on a chessboard, leaving Hannibal free to step into the role of guardian.

It was an arrangement he presented to the authorities as a matter of practicality—after all, he was their trusted psychiatrist, a respected member of the community. And with no other family member willing to take in the 'troubled' youth, Hannibal was seen fit as a caregiver. But in truth, it was far more than that. It was an act of reclamation, a way to give the teen a life they needed and deserved.

Under Hannibal’s guidance, they began to flourish. What had once been a life of isolation and condemnation was replaced with warmth, curiosity, and purpose. Hannibal nurtured their sharp intellect, encouraging them to explore philosophy, art, and science. He fed their fascination with decay and life cycles, finding ways to weave their morbid interests into lessons that expanded their understanding of the world.

Their rats, once crammed into a small cage hidden away from disapproving eyes, now thrived in a custom-built enclosure—a miniature ecosystem of tunnels and habitats that Hannibal had crafted himself. The teenager spent hours tending to them, speaking softly to each one as though they were old friends. Slowly but surely, they grew more confident, their once-detached demeanor softened by the security of knowing they were finally, unquestionably accepted.

So, when Will Graham entered their lives, Hannibal saw an opportunity to complete the family he hadn't realized he was building. At first, Will’s presence unsettled the teen. He was different from Hannibal—more empathetic, less polished. But there was something grounding about Will’s quiet intensity, his ability to understand without needing words.

Their relationship began cautiously, with the teen watching Will from the corner of their eye during his visits, studying him as though he were one of the rats they loved so much. But Will, ever patient, allowed them to come to him on their terms. Over time, the cracks of their tentative bond filled with shared silences and soft-spoken observations.

"You remind me of my rats," the teen said one day, tilting their head at Will as they sat together in the study.

Will blinked, unsure if it was meant as an insult. "How so?"

"You’re always watching. Thinking one step ahead compared to everyone else."

Will glanced at the teenager, amused. "I don’t know if I should be flattered or mildly offended."

They shrugged, their gaze steady and calm. "It’s a compliment. Rats are survivors. They’re smart, and they don’t waste energy pretending to be something they’re not. You’re like that."

Will leaned back in his chair, folding his arms thoughtfully. "Smart and a survivor, huh? Could be worse."

"Definitely worse," they replied, their tone so matter-of-fact that it made Will laugh softly. "You’d be terrible at being fake, anyway."

SMALL TIME SKIP

Hannibal leaned back in his armchair, his fingers lightly drumming against the armrest as he observed the scene before him. It was a tableau of quiet intimacy—his beloved Will Graham, seated cross-legged on the floor, and the teenager sprawled out beside him, their rats darting around like tiny, mischievous shadows.

Will had one hand resting lightly on the floor to keep himself steady while the other hovered hesitantly near one of the rats. "So, uh," he began, his tone unsure but willing, "what happens if I try to touch it? Am I going to lose a finger?"

The teen smirked faintly, their usual neutral demeanor softening just enough to give away their amusement. "Maybe. Cholera’s got a temper, but the others are fine. You just have to be calm."

Will huffed a quiet laugh, his tension easing slightly. "Calm, huh? Should be easy enough."

"You’re always tense," the teen said bluntly, tilting their head as they watched him. "The rats can tell. You should probably breathe or something."

Hannibal’s lips curved into an indulgent smile at their candor. He adored how effortlessly they spoke their mind—so different from the guarded subtleties most people employed. And Will, bless his complex mind, seemed entirely charmed by it.

"I am breathing," Will retorted, his tone carrying a note of mock indignation. "Maybe I’m just…different from rats."

"That’s debatable," the teen quipped, though their smirk grew into something warmer as one of the bolder rats sniffed at Will’s hand before scampering up his arm.

Will froze, his eyes wide, and Hannibal chuckled softly. "It seems you’ve been accepted," he remarked, his tone rich with amusement. "An honor not given lightly, I assure you."

The teen nodded solemnly, as though Hannibal’s words were gospel. "Yeah. If Cholera likes you, you’re okay."

Will glanced between them, his lips twitching into a bemused smile. "Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to be rejected by…Cholera."

The rat in question perched on Will’s shoulder, chittering softly, and the teen gave a rare, genuine laugh—a sound that caught both Will and Hannibal off guard. Hannibal’s chest swelled with warmth at the sight of the two bonding, the sharp edges of their respective personalities softening as they found common ground.

For Hannibal, this was more than he could have hoped for. Watching Will, the man who had captured his heart with his brilliance and empathy, and his ward, the child who had become the unexpected center of his world, grow closer felt like the culmination of something profound. He had orchestrated many things in his life, but this—this was pure serendipity.

Will, still adapting to the chaos of rats scurrying across him, glanced up at Hannibal. "You’re awfully quiet over there," he said, his voice light but curious. "Enjoying the show?"

Hannibal’s smile deepened, his eyes warm as they met Will’s. "Immensely," he replied. "It is rare to witness such harmony. You’ve both surprised me."

The teen, still laughing softly, looked between them and said, "You’re both weird, but I think that’s why this works."

Will raised an eyebrow, glancing at Hannibal. "Weird, huh? I guess I’ll take that."

"As will I," Hannibal added smoothly, his tone affectionate. "Weirdness, after all, is simply a deviation from the ordinary. And I would have no other way for our family."

The word hung in the air—family—and for a moment, all three of them sat in a comfortable silence. The fire crackled, the rats chittered, and the connection between them felt solid, unshakable. Hannibal, watching the two people he cared for most in the world bond so effortlessly, allowed himself a rare moment of unguarded happiness. This was it. This was home.

[slaaverin]

Okay why are Jikookers literally elder people? 30 is not old at all, but I've seen children and teens in other shipper fandoms, not this one ...what brings y'all together like this 😂

But happy birthday love 😘 may you grow to see your generations 😊

Ahhh thank you so much for the birthday wishes anon 💜

What you're saying makes me wonder.

I have a jikooker friend who is 70+ 😂

But I believe some jikookers with greater levels of maturity can truly understand jikook's bond on a deep level, having been themselves in serious relationships and having more experience with relationships in general. So that's probably why.

It is true that tkkers are usually way younger and more immature 🧐 you're raising an interesting point!

People with some years behind them can understand better the human behaviour. Usually when you are in your teen years it is very common to experience toxic behaviours because young people don't know how to put up personal boundaries yet and if they weren't raised with a lot of love, well they lack self-love as well.

So in fact they have no idea what a healthy relationship looks like, that's why we see so many toxic narratives about the members and their relationships.

Of course I'm talking generalities I am well aware some older fans are also involved with other ships and fuel those narratives. But it's usually fans who even in their adult lives continue to have distorted perceptions of what is good and healthy.

My view on this might be quite radical but nobody in their right mind could be a serious taekooker. Nobody.

Their ship is based entirely on falshood and toxicity. When you are not distorted in your views it is impossible to get behind a ship such as this. (Except if its for just fun I guess)

I think for a balanced adult the only relationship that makes the most sense is jikook. Because they are themselves balanced and healthy and there is absolutely nothing toxic about them.

But not everyone grows in the same way and not everyone can have a balanced point of view and have enough experience to understand the subtleties of human exchange.

That's why there are so many disparities. And that's why I think a lot of jikooker are mostly older.

Jikookers do not have the shiny object syndrom. We do not think jikook are in a relationship because "it's hot" or "it would be cool".

We simply observe them and drew conclusions from our own personal experiences that made us go "Ok I see what this is" and that's it, literally.

That's why I think sometimes we should not take what tkkers do so seriously because some of them are really young and yes sometimes children. They don't even understand what they are doing and what they are believing in.

But it's true jikook draw people with certain levels of maturity, and I think it's quite indispensable to truly understand the depth of their relationship. Nothing beats personal experiences to compare lol

(Again it is all general statements and I know there are exceptions)

I answered quickly but I hope you see now why some jikookers might be older.

Thanks again and take care 💜

[angelflms]

Cobra Kai has a tone-deaf problem.

Now, I am a Black woman so all of my observations are through the lenses of that. You can critique my words all you want, but don't be disrespectful because I will be equally as disrespectful in the replies.

I have this phenomenon that I've noticed for a lot of shows I have watched called The Leo Dooley effect, inspired by character from Lab Rats, where the main character, a POC who set the tone for the whole story, is surrounded by a white ensemble cast that slowly but surely pushes that character aside to serve their purpose.

Cobra Kai does the same thing with Miguel Diaz, as he seems to be the sole reason why any of these things on the show are happening (for better or for worse) and gets one of the worst character driven storylines throughout the series post-coma (I rewrote his story on my blog. Go find it under the Miguel or Xolo hashtags) to further make the show The Robby Show (we'll get into the tone-deaf writing of his character this past season in a minute). He becomes a shell of a character, empty, boring, and in the sidelines all up until the final season, where the writers seem to remember *snaps fingers* oh shit, Miguel's one of our protagonists, and writes an okay story for him. Better than his s5 plot, but not as good as the stuff we got in s1, 2, and the last half of 3 and 4.

Now, s6 has him in his true prime (not in the way people claimed he was in the past seasons). He's got a clear mind, he's goals-oriented, you wouldn't even be able to tell that this kid was paralyzed from the waist down a year ago (in-universe time). However, he's out-performing everyone, was single-handedly saving his team, and it wasn't even enough for Johnny. It was very interesting to watch as People of Color, especially Black and Brown people, tend to have to go above and beyond to prove that we're the shit, but it'll never amount to anything if our white associates (minus Devon in this case - more on her later) aren't doing anything. But the second they do, everyone is getting praised. Miguel knocked his opponent out in forty seconds. FORTY SECONDS. But because the team wasn't doing good overall, he got no attention. I know that feeling all too well and it sucks.

As much as I thought Johnny's "Miguel is our anchor" line was powerful, it also didn't at the same time. The Magical Negro is such an annoying stereotype, as well as the Strong Black Woman/Man, and the Brown and Asian variations that come with it.

Miguel is the Brown equivalent of the Magical Negro, trying to tell the white Johnny what's right and wrong. Teaching him what's okay to say and what's not, despite Johnny being grown enough to probably understand shit on his own. He basically is teaching Johnny in a sense despite the fact that it should be the other way around. And I know that's a typical mentor/mentee thing trope but with how the show goes out of its way to show how self aware of modern problems it is, it's hella tone-deaf.

In terms of the Strong Black Man trope (or in this case Brown), Miguel isn't always strong. He breaks down and cries pretty often but it's viewed by the fandom as annoying, weak, and pathetic, as well as not manly which pisses me all the way off because every time he gets emotional, it's with valid reason. Losing his girlfriend (both times), finding out he's paralyzed, apologizing for running away, his mom possibly dying, not getting into Stanford (tho this would've had more of a punch if Stanford actually mattered but it doesn't whatever). Also, he's a 16/17 year old Brown kid in poverty who was embarrassingly bullied MULTIPLE TIMES. You're telling me you didn't cry as a kid? But when Robby cries every once in a while (which is also equally as valid because he was also a kid in poverty who was bullied), everyone holds his hand and says "it's okay."

"He's our anchor." It just sounds so off to me. Like has to be the one to help everyone else, when you have two Captains who can do the exact same thing. We as POCs have to be the ones to hold down the fort and keep things steady on our backs while white people can settle for mediocrity and not have to do to much because "hey, the POCs got us." It's just like that "if you're in danger, find a Black woman" thing. Because we're expected to be the ones to save y'all when y'all are in trouble. But when the roles reverse, we're expected to save ourselves because we're strong. Y'all don't like it when Miguel isn't emotionally or physically tough because y'all expect him to push through since he's the main character, but it also feels like he's expected to push through because he's a Brown boy in poverty so he's been through enough.

Tory's "we have to fight to get a spot in life" speech was well performed by Peyton List but it felt strange to see a white woman explain privilege to a Brown boy who has less privilege in comparison to her. I have always had a problem with that scene and I never won't have an issue with it.

Moving on to Kenny. Kenny is the only Black character of current time to be in the ensemble. Aisha was on the show but left ofc. Kenny, like Miguel was brutally picked on, primarily by white kids, especially by white rich boy Anthony LaRusso. In the fandom Anthony tends to be the more favored overall. Kenny is primarily favored on the Black side of the fandom (much like Miguel). Similar to Miguel, there was a moment in s6 part two that may have not been intentional but in my eyes, felt very racially targeted.

Hawk and Demetri were very skeptical towards Kenny because they assumed that he was working with Silver despite the fact that Kenny didn't even want to do the Sekai Tekai to begin with after he became publicly bullied again. During a round of tag-teamed fighting, the boys refused to let Kenny in, causing them to lose the round due to Robby not being prepared to be tagged in (he thought they were gonna tag Kenny). Kenny gets mad, rightfully so but the boys didn't back down on their theory (the only reason this theory was even a thing was because they say Kenny and Silver talking and assumed the worst). It took the team's "anchor" to give Robby a pep talk to lead and the others will follow (you know, something a Captain should already know) for Kenny to get the attention he deserves. And then Hawk and Demetri finally accept Kenny. All because the white guy said "hey, we should tag him in."

That sounds so off in so many ways.

It wasn't intentional, I know. But the fact that this was something that happened and the boys didn't even apologize to Kenny after for the assumptions they made only furthers my point on how tone deaf this show can get. Amanda, Miguel, and Robby are literally the only people who see Kenny as more than just a Silver puppet and it sucks because Hawk and Demetri were in the same spot as Kenny once upon a time.

And then there's Devon, the overworking, overwhelmed Asian girlie who tries her hardest to seek validation and gets overlooked. Similar to Miguel in this new part, Devon got ignored badly in the first part. It was so bad that she cheated to get into the Sekai Tekai and got her ass handed to her. And like Miguel, it takes her to have to explain to her white sensei that she's being ignored for him for her to be taken seriously. She's not the best fighter by any means but I thought we were done with this Asian stereotype years ago. And the way Sam talked to her after literally celebrating her victory with all smiles and everything in the first part??? Like it felt so fake as hell.

Finally, Robby. Robby is written well, we all know that. But this shit that they did to him in the second part pissed me off, especially since it's not gonna get addressed apparently. So Robby gets drunk at a bar and basically follows Zara back to her hotel room. Next time we see them, he's disoriented, and she's kissing him. I'm sorry, but that's sexual assault, yes? Robby was drunk and didn't remember anything. So that's her taking advantage of him, yes? Well the creator apparently doesn't think so and is saying that Robby made a mistake and that the interaction won't be talked about next part.

Bitch, Robby is a VICTIM.

Zara sexually assaulted him. Just because he's a man doesn't change the fact that the man got taken advantage of by Zara.

Like did we watch the same scene?

This show has so many problems and I feel like since it's a show about fighting no one cares. But as a Black woman, I see this shit and in between the lines, there's so many issues that won't even get fixed because the show is over.

[19calicos]

very interesting to see the difference in notes for street style & tea for two ........ i think tumblr should love kiyoko more

[bluegarners]

lrb, like i'd had this thought a few times before, thinking about the kind of intermixing there is between dick grayson fans and bruce wayne fans, and honestly i've never interacted with a bruce wayne fan that wasn't also a big fan of dick grayson, but i have interacted with dick grayson fans who weren't bruce wayne fans, and i think a large part of that is bc within the narrative dick has done so much for bruce really and truly, but bruce hasn't done much for dick that dick hasn't himself interpreted as meaning everything to him even when compared to things other characters have done for him... so like, within the fandom narrative structure, there's this weird balance of a lot of dick grayson fans finding the same kind of love and loyalty to bruce wayne that dick has, but also with the ability to step back from dick's own pov and look at and analyze exactly what it is that bruce has done to and for dick, and the picture it paints it distinctly not a wholly good one that dick grayson's character is unwilling to recognize most of the time, but one that every other character, including bruce, as well as the general fandom, can and will confront

[asurrogateblog]

as a media psychology researcher 85% of my job is figuring out the most horrifically academic way to say "you idiots wouldn't last a day on tumblr"

[sysig]

I hope you blink before I do (Patreon)

[archivestarlyht]

sometimes i remember that other bg3 wizard players have complained that they feel like their character is “overshadowed” by how good gale is & his relationship with mystra and need to lay down

[katyspersonal]

Not me detecting tropes again lol

Speaking of, I know I joked that they've learned what worked with Shabriri from Mico (themes of eyes and insanity + "ascending" by mass sacrifice), but actually Navlaan too, if not even more so?

Navlaan says that the sorcerer was looking for new forms of magic but instead "created" him, which does have the vibe of accidentally ending with split personality during experiments (Jekyll and Hyde vibe), however, description of Scraps of Life says this:

An esoteric spell created by Navlaan, the infamous exiled sorcerer. Awakens the souls of the long-buried dead. The heretic Navlaan was executed along with his entire village, and the mere utterance of his name became a crime. Some say it was because he sought to restore the banned art of resurrection.

Basically bro used to be his own person, existing probably long before this sorcerer or at least independently, and was another victim of cancel culture dshfdshjfsd So, the line "But instead, he created me" would mean sort of rebirth by possessing this sorcerer. It is not direct possession as in, controlling the body as a puppet, but neither a personality born from within the 'original' person (typically from dark and repressed emotions). But it is a secret third thing; say, he barely had recollection and semblance of his original self after death, so completing the otherwise almost-blank state and filling the gaps from what was lost with the memories and feelings of the host is as good as being born as a new person.

And it IS kind of like Shabriri, too! Except, Yura is certainly no longer present in the body, whereas the original sorcerer still appears when the player is in the human state to beg them to stay away for their own sake. But Shabriri also 'adapted' to what Yura used to be, like suddenly being able to fight the same way as him (with the only addition of Frenzy incantations), and Ronin Set is described as "armour of man that calls himself Shabriri".

As for Navlaan, some of his grudges seem like they came from the sorcerer rather than his existence within this vessel, and he unknowingly carries them out. He also describes the sorcerer as "naive" when he is pretty much naive himself now; he simply trusts that we killed people just because we bring their things! Also description of Chaos Set says "Robe worn by a chaos sorcerer. He calls himself Navlaan, now", so whereas original sorcerer's name is never learned, it is probably now abandoned and not relevant as Navlaan 'overrode' the original. Again, really interesting concept of two people that become an amalgamation upon merging (that I tooooootaly didn't use for what happened with Logarius and the King, and that is toooootaly not what likely happened with Aldrich after he ate Gwyndolin.......)

+ Also cool thing that Shabriri and Navlaan both messed with something forbidden and forbidden for a good reason, and both were incredibly hated! Shabriri is "the most reviled man in history" and Navlaan was so hated that you could not even mention him! I am sorry for bringing this topic often but I just really like to analyse how Fromsoft invents 'a type of a guy' and reuses blueprints later without being unoriginal about it, it is just fascinating

[jeremiahthefroge]

yeah ok so I caved. Lit up another bowl, opened a new folder on my Obsidian vault, and I'm gonna rewatch the minecraft diaries and I'm going to take detailed notes on everything plot related I can, separated episode by episode, make observations, and then create a little personal wikipedia of my interpretations of the characters as they appear on the show.

I just did episode one to do what is essentially a "am I capable of watching this" test (I feared since it was 2016 youtube that I was into in the year 2016, a historically terrible year for me, that I would have some HEAVILY BIASED ideas on the quality of this show, and that if I rewatched I would ruin it for myself) and I honestly didn't have too hard of a time with the youtube of it all. Cringe is and has been dead, and I'm looking at this like a fun little excercise in studying how this piece of media tells the story it tells.

Speaking of, I find it so interesting how the machinima of Zenix and Garroth kicks us off and we then have Aphmau speaking as like... a comentary youtuber. The machinima sets up a plot that isn't even hinted more at in the episode, too, but I can see the first 10 or whatever episodes having all been recorded in 1 batch all at once and then cut up. I don't recall how characterized Aphmau gets in this whole thing.

And also I find Aphmau doing the voices for Garroth and Zenix so unironically fun and endears me to the series. Idk why but it made me smile!

I'll probably liveblog more of this experience bc I'm incapable of keeping my mouth shut.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Why Izzy fandom and Izzy 'eh' people write this fucker so differently. A slight rant written at 1am by a person in the middle of writing her 10th Izzy fic 😆

OFMD is about looking at a person, then diving in, and understanding and sympathizing with why they are like that. To some extent, most romantic comedies are. So let's look at who my brain has latches onto:

Stede Bonnet: introduced as a pompous outsider whose wealth blinds him from seeing how hard piracy is. Throughout season 1 we see him grow and gain confidence in his abilities. He finds self confidence, acceptance and even a found family because he is, to his center, himself. He is flawed but we see him trying to follow his own code for what makes a good captain.

Edward Teach: distant experienced pirate who has totally checked out from what it means to be a pirate. He doesn't care about casualities and keeps secrets about life-saving plans from the people xlose to him. But he's not a prick. He wants something in life he doesn't think he can achieve: a peaceful life. He thinks it's a rich persons game he can never afford to win. He's not the kind of person who hets a happy ending. He learns over the series to let himself want that for better and for worse. He can be cruel and seemingly selfish, but he learns to love life again after meeting stede.

Izzy Hands: a character built in Ed's shadow, representing the bits of Ed's life he hates in s1. Most of his screen time is spent either agreeing with or denying Ed's plans. I've noticed in the AU I write, I still tend to write him as a bitchy ex, because what do we know about him outside of how he interacts with Ed? A man who he sees as his 'boss'?

On screen, he is seen with or acting on the behalf of: ED. In s2, it's a bit better. Sure. But he's projecting his issues with Ed onto the crew ('he's still got legs'/'next time he'll do his fucking job' of s2ep4). So even the scenes hes not physicially in frame with the man, Ed is still haunting him. Or Izzy's alone and sad. A character sitting alone CAN progress their character. But what do we learn? That Izzy sees himself as Izzys shadow, too.

The two scenes I can say give direct characterization for him are the Ricky speech of s2-Ep 8, and the drag discussion between him and Wee John. Izzy cares about his crew and is a person wishes he let himself open up in life.

[but even then. We as the audience know this more from a con interview than the actual show. I had a friend say Izzy finally turned gay at that moment, so interpertations of that scene vary]

So. Yes. Izzy cares about rules and trying not to die. Yes. He loves Ed. But who is he? If we took Izzy Hands and dropped him in a new world with new characters and a new plot. Who would he be?

The bitchy 'micromanaging' ex. The mother friend. The nag.

I fucking love Izzy, but I can admit that like most characterization of a side character, I am projecting and stretching apart the crumbs we are given, to have a TON of fun while making him suffer.

I write Izzy the way I do because in my head my favorite character is a mix of 10 hours of tv and the past 2 years of reading stories about a man who is *trying* to live.

I know many fans outside of this sphere struggle to get our facination with the guy, but in the end, Izzy Hands really is ours. And that's kind of beautiful.

[wasppilled]

one of the sad things about shifting interests/hyperfixations is that you kind of lose touch with some people who you talked to the most while you were both in the midst of shared interest

but on the other hand there is the beauty of both meeting new people related to your new interest, and if it's a recurring one, then reconnecting with people you knew from it before.

life is an ongoing cycle of this, i think. it's another aspect of meeting new people and falling in and out of touch. some people you may not get back in touch with again. you may have big group servers based on something and then you might lose interest and not speak to most of those people again.

but some people will always stick around in your life, even as your interests change. some you might not hear from for years but one day one of you reaches out and you will still be friends. maybe on the outskirts of your mind, maybe a long term tumblr mutual or someone you see once in a while. maybe an acquaintance, a "oh yeah I think I know a guy who...",

but theyre there.

and that's really meaningful to me.

[normiematsu]

hey. dont cry. my thoughts on osomatsus complicated evil tendencies condensed into a playlist forever ok?

[ninicaise]

Ah yeah sorry. I recently just got into capri and most of the blogs I follow for other fandoms encourage interaction, discussion, rants, etc. Didn't realize you aren't really into that so my bad. I just wanted to share/discuss but I'll find somewhere else for that 👍

that's okay i just don't know how to answer to those things i think. i appreciate it, but there was nothing there for me to discuss, like why this happens, what could we do to solve the problem, etc. i think i need more concrete concepts and questions to engage in a rant or a debate. sorry abt that it's probably on me

[zombienarc]

-

[hazuneji]

every other week or so im struck with the powerful urge to become an editor on the limbus wiki. its been an uphill battle every time i see smth that i know and isnt on there or that could be fixed. but holy shit would i never do anything else