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"Genesis", Oil on canvas by Matthew Cornell

captain flint's A+ team-building

This is the last thing Flint says to Miranda in a private conversation and I think is one of the most revealing things about Flint as a character he directly states.

Flint was created to be ephemeral and that explains where his fear of being perceived as the villain comes from. Up to this point, what James has been doing is compartmentalizing the actions and feelings of his two versions: McGraw and Flint. And since his intention has always been to get rid of Flint because he is not who he believes himself to be, he can't stand the thought of people only taking into account what the latter has done.

But it's inevitable, James McGraw and James Flint move in completely different circles, they are known to different people. Only one person has lived with both of them: Miranda. She is the anchor to his past life, the one who reminds him that no matter how many years he has been called Flint, he was McGraw before and he still is.

So that's why what is about to happen at that dinner has huge implications for him that will turn him into what he was so afraid of becoming.

Well, what graphic description could be more accurate for my own reaction to the last ep?

Thank you for reminding me how haunting that was (it threw me out of balance for days and I'm still thinking about it).

I'll brace myself to go through all of this once again now that I'm reaching the end of my rewatch😢

Not to be unhelpful, but try going through season 4 knowing how it is going to end. Painful experience.

just finished black sails…..

GET TO KNOW ME: ♡ [2/15] Female Characters: ☆ Harley Quinn (DC)

Don't call me dumb. I have a PhD, Motherfucker.

'You make me' by Fyval x AgathaRio

Coming from the swanqueen fandom I couldn't help doing a tribute both to this new amazing couple and to the great singer Fyval, the wonderful artist who gifted the SwanQueen fandom with a whole album of incredible songs. This one is "You make me", I thought it would fit with these two.

Love SwanQueen and love AgathaRio.

Happy Valentine's day you all!

Just one moment of peace.

Part of this was just me wanting a bit of an extra challenge as an art project to take my mind of things, part of it was digging through my bottomless reference folder for something completely different and getting stuck with an idea about Flint and his horse? And, really, the need for small comforts, I guess.

Anyway. I like the idea of him being secretly fond of that horse, of giving it some ridiculous name that nobody would get but Thomas (although Miranda probably does, and just pretends she doesn’t). And of him taking comfort in the warmth and solid presence of another living creature, of him allowing to let the mask slip and be gentle for a moment. It’s a simple comfort, and one I can see him craving when he has so little comfort left.

Happy birthday Wei Wuxian!

I'm so happy to share my first playlist about this amazing character!

Timestamps are on the way

Miranda was always what Flint needed, and to her last moments, she remained exactly that. Flint needed a sacrifice to his cause, a martyr to fight in the name of, and that’s what Miranda became.  Because ten years and Flint was still fighting the trappings of civilization for all Miranda said that he had abandoned it. Because Miranda was civilization. She and Flint and Thomas were all parts of some unique machine, and Thomas might have have been been the engine in the machine, and Flint the weapon, but Miranda was the outer shell, the body, the thing that upheld both those things. She was music and bitter hope and china cups and antiseptic on Flint’s wounds. She was someone to bring home books to and someone to write I’m sorry to and someone to say, “you’re getting blood on my floor.” She was the last person who had any idea whatsoever of James McGraw, the only person who knew him as James McGraw, who once called him lieutenant, who once knew what he looked like in a navy uniform, who once knew what he looked in like in the candlelight of a London drawing room. And in turn, he knew her. Knew her as the woman she once was, knew how she looked in fine silks and jewels and pearls in her hair, knew what she looked like with Thomas on her arm, who knew her as a wife and socialite and lady and a scandal, as all the things she never was on Nassau.    And if Flint was ever to try to take true and exiting revenge, she needed to die. Because as long as she was alive, she was the promise of civilization, of peace, of memory, for Flint to return to. And that’s what she realizes when she puts her head down in Peter Ashe’s drawing room and asks him about the clock. The façade of civilization, the dinner, the pleasantries, Flint and Ashe shaking hands, the talk of a trial, a pardon, it needed to be broken, because in that moment to allow it to exist was intolerable. And she broke it, destroyed it with six words. But she was civilization, and she destroyed herself.