the tragedy of merthur is so insane to me. it’s everything. it’s “i will love you in every universe” and “i will love you if it kills me” and “i will love you after you die” and “the love that we shared existed and because of that i will persevere” and “i will stay alive so i can love your memory longer” and “if i ever lost you i would see you in everything” and “i will love you if you hate me” and “i love you in all the ways that i was never loved”
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hopeless time loop. the way out isn’t to save everyone. the way out isn’t to save even one person. the way out isn’t to change anything. the way out is accepting how it happened the first time is how it always will be. that’s how you acted, that’s how they acted, that’s how you would have acted every time if you weren’t given the curse of hindsight. the way out is accepting you can’t fix the past; you can only forgive yourself for it.
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do you ever think about how in the day i picked up dazai side b dazai had to lie emotionless and soulless—like a corpse, almost—beside the man that gently brought him in, nursed his injuries, held him while he was in pain? he had to keep those suffocating bandages around his entire face, lest this man gain some sort of recognition for the little boy he saved. he had to lay there curled in the fetal position, bleeding and in pain, perhaps thinking about how, in another life, this man cooked for him, tried to build up his strength. read to him to pass the time while he curled up against him like a child listening to a bedtime story. played cards with him. saw through the heartless mafioso. the ruthless killer. and instead saw a boy.
imagine knowing this man, the man who saved you in more ways than one, was going to die one day all because he knew you. because he reached his hand into the darkness and plaintively, like a small child wanting a parent's touch, you grasped back desperately. imagine thinking all of that while that man is just a stone's throw away, making coffee in the next room just like he used to for you in another life. the scent, although you've never been here before, is reminiscent of home. and the tune he's humming? it's the silent melody that plays through your mind seven years later, for the last time as you fall backward off the building with your arms out like an embrace. but, hey. that man is alive. he's happy, although he never knew you. you can die with no regrets.
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you know what it feels a little insidious cause when you think about it Hera, quite literally, broke Jason. She plucked her chosen heroes from their respective camps and scrambled their little brains around and then she crafted Jason an entire fake romance that only ended up crashing and burning and leaving him with heartache. he lost his status as Praetor to a dude that was there for like two weeks and even though he did what he had been told to do and saved the world like a good Roman hero, he never got to reclaim the life he must have been living before a god took it from him. and then he isolates himself. and then he dies. what the hell.
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hm hm and if elody DOES know what the princesses are planning, if she DOES believe in their goal,, if she found the body of the cowardly husband she left behind and it destroyed her but he died following after her trying to be better for her,,,, if gerard and elody end up on different sides of a war that gerard is only fighting in because elody inspired him to be brave,,,,,,,, if he goes to battle against his own wife because she taught him to take a stand for what he believes in,,,,,,,,,,, if she grows weary of fighting to keep going after the would-be happy ending just as he is finally learning that that’s exactly when you can’t give up that’s when you have to work the hardest,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,what then what then
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something about childhood in succession.. the way it casts its shadow over the entire narrative, the rotten root of the roy siblings’s pain, all wrapped up in Logan’s power and abuse and love. The opening credits are filled with images of them as kids, beginning every. single. episode. by emphasizing the importance of their childhood: the siblings posing for a photo, playing sports, standing on a manicured lawn, riding an elephant, etc. and then the shots of logan, in which he is always shown from behind, or far away. It is a childhood the viewer never gets to see in any other context, since there are no flashbacks in the show, and therefore as integral as it seems, we know almost nothing about it. What exactly happened? What are the details? We feel its presence, we can tell how it informs their relationships, we can put together the pieces of incomplete and contradictory memories expressed through dialogue, and if we trace their struggles and dysfunction back far enough we know it leads there, to when they were kids. But there is so much empty space we can’t fill in. It’s almost like their childhood is presented in that horror technique where you never get to see the monster clearly straight on. It’s always in darkness, and chopped up into close-ups so that the viewer’s imagination is forced to invent something, however vague, and that is far scarier than it would be if we could actually see it — a monster that is terrifying BECAUSE it’s unknown. The roy siblings’s childhood is a major force behind so much that happens on screen, but what specifically occurred is out of the reach of our understanding. We are shown the monster’s shadow but not the monster, we are shown the frightened faces of the characters as they look at something behind the camera we never get to see, we are shown the running or the fighting or the blood but never the true, bigger-picture, clear details of the horror itself
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