#Destructio

[incesthemes]

my hot fandom take is that discouraging authentic interaction with fanworks through arbitrary "rules" and increasingly limited and prescriptive scripts of "acceptable" interactions damages fandom as a community perhaps just as much as passive, entitled consumers who demand free labor from fan creators without offering interaction in return

[chiimeramanticore]

any animatronic fact that at first you thought "there is no way this is real" just to research it and go "holy shit this is real"?

had to think on this one cuz i didn't wanna just reiterate anything ive already said in the video essay but i think one of my favorite rae-related stories is that time aaron's girlfriend during the 80s, who worked at cei as a programmer, left him for rick bailey. and then in the white album medley, aaron (as billy bob) has a bit where he talks about how revenge isn't worth it "even if they do something real bad, like steal your girlfriend or something" in reference to this event, which he did because he knew his ex would have to program it

[59382]

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[landfilloftrash]

If I told you there was a series of games created before I was born, developed by Capcom, and that I was obsessed with a pairing of middle aged men within; The pairing being comprised of a someone around a decade or so older than the younger, lighter colored hair, stern and serious with a very deadpan sense of humor, along with “this is my job. I shall do it perfectly” demeanor about his work— very cat-coded in general, if you can think it, it will most probably apply— and the younger being very a determined brunette with firm morals who goes toe to toe with the older man and is frequently one of the only ones who can do so with their hell-bent insistence to do good and defend those who cannot, no matter the cost, who is quite dog-coded in reverse. They spend a few years in each other’s company, learning about each other (even if it’s at a distance and professionally) and then. Something happens. The older one of the pair betrays the brunette — his strings being pulled by a higher power, but it does not excuse him— and in the process reveals a cowardly and vengeful side after the event, causing the entirety of the franchise we play to happen. And then only a bit later in the storyline, one murdered the other, in cold but passioned blood, because destiny deemed it this way and they only heed the call of it. And whether or not it was intentional, leaving said murdered man’s child an orphan completely alone in the world as a side effect. For years after the event, they are satisfied with what happened, if burdened by guilt. But they were right to do so, weren’t they? They proceed to be metaphorically haunted by the man they killed for the rest of their life, however. And that will come to a head for them.

Now… am I talking about Chrisker (Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker), or Shingou (Mitsurugi Shin/Karuma Gou) ?

[eat-applez]

I find it so funny when a piece of media has like NO innocent characters, but beside that people STILL try to find the most wholesome characters and will pick them up and just go “Awwww the skrunkle!!!! Look how cute they are they’re so wholesome awww!!!” And the character’s just like “I have committed several war crimes and am banned in most countries I have a kill count of three thousand seven-hundred twenty two and will not hesitate to make you the Three thousand seven hundred twenty third.” And the fandom is just fine about it.

[myberndpulch]

✌"Vincent van Gogh's Vision of Chaos: Burning Malibu Captured in Swirling Flames and Fiery Hues" - AI Art by Bernd Pulch

Call to Action:  *Unlock Exclusive Content and Support the Mission!*   Dive into a world of intrigue, creativity, and bold storytelling with Bernd Pulch! By supporting this groundbreaking work, you gain access to exclusive, uncensored content that pushes boundaries and sparks conversations.   What You Get:–  Exclusive, high-quality AI art and creative projects. –  Behind-the-scenes…

[undercover-bun-etc]

My brain created an entire gacha game for my dream last night and honestly I'm sad it's not real.

[cazerole]

ok so here is an incredibly messy and not very well researched guide i made for my friend about how i would personally recommend reading the Transformers IDW Comics (widely regarded as the best run of the comics, and beloved by pretty much every fan)

(best features include: gay robots, lesbian robots, trans robots, love, everlasting friendship, space hijinks, political intrigue undercut by thousands/millions of years of history and war and hatred, also more gayness.)

caz's quick start guide to the transformers comics (IDW):

Start with reading (The Death of Optimus Prime) its a great jumping off point for the most popular series (more than meets the eye and lost light) because it kicks off the start of this "phase" of the idw comics run. it starts with the end of the autobot/decepticon war (after they leave earth. see why i like the comics? [my personal belief is that transformers is more interesting sans humanity lol]

Then read Transformers: More than Meets the Eye : This is the first half of the story and it concludes with: Transformers: Lost Light And that makes up the full series that i've read.

I actually haven't gotten around to reading the companion/sister series to this run which is called Transformers: Robots in Disguise (which is part 1) and Transformers: Optimus Prime (the nomenclature of this franchise is hella confusing i know) (which is part 2)

note: the part 1 and part 2 of the sister series runs parallel to the mtmte (more than meets the eye, aka part 1) and ll (lost light, aka part 2) story, so they have semi-frequent crossovers, but its 100% possible to just read one and not the other

AND

there are other one off comics/ mini series in IDW that ae also awesome and 100% worth reading: Spotlight: Blurr (this is my fav, but all of the spotlights are awesome imo) (megatron origin story, which is a pretty great version of the whole megatron origins, and you can def see how it has continued to influence TF:1) Sins of the Wreckers (i see ppl talk about this one a lot, but i've actually never read it…)

AND LASTLY

the IDW run ended a few years ago now (jesus almost 6 years or something???) and the publisher's contract was up with hasbro, SO all the hasbro franchises then got picked up by Image Comics (including Transformers, GI Joe, Cobra Cai [i think, lol])

and its A LOT to catch up on, so understandably you might be more interested in starting anew with this new run by Image, which really requires no prior knowledge of ANYTHING.

This new era of Transformers comics is a part of a (thankfully very small) group of semi-interconnected stories called The Energon Universe (they haven't really gotten any better at naming things)

You can read this new run (brilliantly named "Transformers") HERE

(ok that was a lie it wasn't the last thing)

Also part of this new universe theyre making is a completely original series that features cameos of several transformers (but is still very much a standalone) called VOID RIVALS and its a wonderful read, Kirkman (who also wrote Invincible) has written what is basically a fanfiction within the Transformers Universe but features all original characters (barring some pretty big cameos)

and yes for shows, i LOVE LOVE LOVE transformers Prime, ive heard really great things about transformers: animated, and transformers: cyberverse wildly varies in quality but its a fun casual watch.

If I want to get into transformers where should I start? I’ve seen the bumblebee movie and few of early Michael bay movies, but that’s it.

with regret i'm not the best person to ask about this as i haven't actually consumed that much transformers media. i can tell you that Transformers One is what ultimately hooked me on the franchise.

you COULD also just start with G1 (thats what i'm currently doing) but that does require a degree of Commitment haha

will put this one out there in case any followers have animated show or comics recommendations!!

[tomofsiobhan]

me when i pay real money to get my criminal history certificate which will be a blank document that won't even be ready by the date i need it

[raayllum]

I get that in general a lot of kids shows do utilize the protagonists ('good guys') in ways where they're supposed to be role models, particularly because some do have a "lesson of the week" where the character does bad things, then clearly learns and explains what they should've done instead by the end of the episode.

That has just... never been how TDP has operated, and I don't get how and why people think we're supposed to take what anyone does in the show as being unilaterally good or evil. Particularly in arc 2; any moral simplicity that was hanging on by a thread in arc 1 has been taken out back and shot numerous times by now.

TDP very rarely calls anything Evil or Good, and when it does, it's always filtered through the characters' biases, and rarely does more then 2-3 characters ever have the same opinion on something for the same reasons. Soren and Rayla, who have inverted character arcs, are some of the only characters to ever use the term villain / good guys or bad guys, and are two of the most staunchly black-and-white thinking characters, heavily to their detriment, I might add, in terms of coping with the increasing complexity of their lives. They have cognitive biases. They're not always right, and are frequently wrong. This is true for everyone in the show.

The show refuses to condemn murder, indirectly and directly condemns the expulsion of humans from Xadia routinely (Evrkynd being a city for everyone, Ezran arguing with Karim, who is the most wrong about the most things), and shows a variety of viewpoints on all things.

The show understands that the choices people make—whether the same character trait is a flaw or a strength—as well as 'moral' choices are all circumstantial.

Are you wrong to burn people alive? Mostly yes (2x07, 6x08) but also no (3x09). Are you wrong to kill people? Sometimes yes, sometimes no, sometimes whether it's 'wrong' or 'right' doesn't even factor in. Are you wrong to use dark magic, or use the dangerous Staff of Ziard, or coin someone and condemn them to a 'fate worse than death'? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Is lying or hiding the truth to protect someone wrong? Sometimes yes (1x06, 2x03, 3x03, 5x01, 7x04, 7x06) sometimes no (1x02, 2x03, 6x06, 5x08, 7x08).

Are you doing the right thing?

Do you have no choice? Is that true, or is that just what you think, or how you rationalize it yourself?

When is it right or cowardly to leave (Viren, Lissa, Rayla, Callum, Ezran, the Cosmic Council, the offer made to Karim's troops)? When should you stay? When do you decide to share resources (2x05) to your potential detriment or withhold them in the name of protecting yourself and your own people (Xadia and magic)? At what point(s) do you prioritize your own pain and grief, or someone else's (i.e. the Keeper vs Callum vs Ezran)? At what point is someone too dangerous or 'too far gone' to keep alive (Runaan about Harrow, Ezran about Aaravos)? At what point do you decide someone cannot change? When do you refuse to change (Karim, Terry) who you are no matter what happens, and when do you decide that you must (Ezran, Soren)? When is it wrong to use illusions to trick someone (3x09 and 7x06) and when is it more reasonable (2x03)? When should you be willing to sacrifice others (Rayla with her family, Runaan and Rayla with Callum, Soren with Viren) and when should you refuse? When should you sacrifice yourself, and when it is wrong to? Did you betray them, or did they betray you, or both (usually both)? When should you betray or stay loyal to your family? What is the right thing to do?

The show, tbh, doesn't know, at least 90% of the time. It's not interested in knowing. It's interested in exploring. That's the whole point. At most, it says you should work towards harm reduction, but what constitutes harm, and what peace looks like, is also something that greatly differs for all the characters.

Rayla is willing to sacrifice the love of her life, Ezran is willing to create weapons of mass destruction and wield one, and Callum used a torture spell on someone when he absolutely did not have to. The idea that any of the protagonists are meant to be paragons of unblemished virtue who are always 100% right, or that any of the antagonists do not canonically have a good point of contention with anything that's happened and are always 100% wrong, is reductive to everything the show is and explores, because it is Quite Literally not what the show does, ever tbh.

They literally spelled it out this past season as a core theme; I don't think they needed to have a character directly point it out every time a main character did something that was Kinda Fucked Up or Complicated But Understandable to know that the show knows it was Canonically Fucked Up or Complicated But Understandable.

There is not a single character or action in TDP that is always right, and there is not a singular character or action in TDP that is always wrong. Hell, even narrowing it down to "this is 'right' or 'wrong'" feels counterintuitive because it's so subjective within the narrative.

Every choice the characters make is often well reasoned, aligns with their values and world views, and fits into how they work through problems. Every choice has benefits and consequences, for them or for others. That doesn't mean it's Right for everyone involved. That doesn't mean it's Wrong for everyone involved. That's what makes the show interesting. Everything has nuance. Everything has Complexity. I'm not interested in a simplified version of TDP. I'm interested in the show as is.

I hope you are, too.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For the Love of God(dess) || CL16 {2}

Summary: Greek God/dess AU. You show Charles a part of your world and he shows you a part of his. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.6k Part One || Two

The old stone path should have been worn for all the centuries that it had been used as the entrance to Olympus but it was still as perfect as it was the first time you walked it. Nothing ever changed, not since the war ended and a new hierarchy settled among the gods. For two thousand years nothing had changed in the Eternal City.

“Love, what have you done?” The imposing form of Ares filled the road to your temple, his arms the size of your waist. His molten red eyes barely glanced at the man at your side before snapping back with a double take. “Kàrolos?”

“Uh, so everyone keeps saying,” he answered quietly, his eyes sizing up the God of War as he spoke for the first time since arriving through the portal. “And you are?”

“Intrigued,” Ares said with a smirk. “Good luck.”

The god vanished and Charles rubbed at his head, murmuring, “Fucking weird dream.”

“You’ll wake up soon,” you sighed. It might not be the wake up he expected, but it was coming - you just had to find Athena. “I know someone who can help make sense of this, we just need to get you back to my place first. It’s right over h-” your words froze as turned towards your temple. 

Where grey stone walls had stood, great white pillars of marble rose. Where empty garden beds lay, hundreds of white roses bloomed. 

Your temple had been restored.

“This is your home?” Charles asked, a little awestruck by the sounds of it. It was quite amusing that he walked among the gods but he found beauty in a building of all things.

“Our home.”

“I have a home - in Monaco.”

You opened your mouth to argue but saw the quiet desperation in his features. He was clinging to his humanity and it forced you to remember that this wasn’t the Kàrolos you knew, this was a stranger. The only resemblance they held were their eyes, but they were the window to the soul and they still had the same soul. 

“Let’s just go inside.”

The doors beyond the marble arch swung open on your approach and the interior had changed just as much. The vast room was open to the sunlight and a fountain filled the centre, the sound of bubbling water a calming feature. Open arches led to more rooms but you made your way to the furthest one. 

Charles followed sedately into the bedroom and out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. Above rose the peak which Zeus had claimed, his golden palace glittering beneath Apollo’s sunshine. Below, the forests of Artemis spread far and wide with lush green canopies and the Orlias river winding through it. 

Your palms warmed on the stone railing as you watched a herd of deer pick their way to the river for a drink. “I know you have a million questions and I’m sorry for…everything.”

Charles’ shoulder leaned into yours as he drank in the scenery but he jumped back when an owl swooped in, the spotted wings brushing his cheek. A flash of light burst from the owl and bare feet touched down on the balcony. 

“Hmmm, you have had quite the night, Love,” she said with an appreciative look over Charles. She reached out to his face with a smile and wiggled her fingers. “May I?”

“Why? What are you going to do? Who are you?”

“So many questions,” she laughed. “I am Athena, I am knowledge, and if you want the answers then you will let me touch you.”

He looked to you for help and gods damned if it didn’t make something in your chest hurt before you nodded. He swallowed the fear of the unknown and trusted you as he stepped into her waiting hands. Lightning shattered his brain, blinding him with flashes of images that moved too fast to see. But he knew. Knowledge expanded and exploded in his mind at an exponential rate until he knew everything. Thousands of years of history burned into his retina in less than a second. The history of the gods and goddesses that called this place home. The history of the wars and the destruction it brought. The history of you and everything you lost.

He knew it all. And it hurt more than the pain that splintered his head.

He didn’t even realise he collapsed until he felt the softest mattress dip beneath his weight as you laid him down. Your concerned face appeared above him, the sun catching your hair and weaving a golden halo around the strands. A thought crossed his mind and he laughed, shaking his head.

“What?” you asked curiously as his fingers twitched like he had to fight the urge to reach out to you.

“When we met I thought you looked like a goddess, but of course you do. You are.” He looked to the balcony but the owl had already taken flight back to her palace on the hill. “I’m not him, you know.”

“I know.” The man you loved had died a long time ago. You had your time together, no matter how short, and you had mourned for him. It was time to move on. “I don’t want you to be Kàrolos. I want to learn who you are, Charles.”

“And what if you don’t like who I am?”

“I am the Goddess of Love,” you teased, climbing onto the bed to sit beside him. “My arrows don’t work unless there is compatibility between the souls. Psyche is probably better off explaining that but my power only amplifies what attraction is already there. Can’t say I have been on the receiving end of it before. This will take some getting used to.”

“What will?”

“The want, the need to touch you,” you confessed as you looked down at your hands that gripped the bedspread tightly. “It is difficult to be this close and not reach out.”

Charles frowned. “You loved Kàrolos but you didn’t use an arrow?”

“Not everyone needs an arrow to fall in love. Like I said, it only amplifies. People find love on their own everyday, only some need a little poke in the right direction. Those friends who have been dancing around each other for years, the abused who don’t think they are worthy of being loved, the colleagues who only flirt at work. The fates weave their tapestry with a trillion threads of life and when there is a snag, like two lovers who failed to meet, then I repair it so the loom can continue its creation.”

Charles blinked as he began to understand how complex the roles of the gods were. “Fuck.” 

You laughed and his lips tugged up at the sound. 

“I don’t mind, if you want to touch me,” he admitted quietly, reaching for your hand and unfurling it from the bedding. His hand was larger than yours but your fingers settled between his comfortably and your body sagged with relief. “So what do we do now?”

You shrugged, not exactly knowing the answer yourself. Time was plentiful so there was no rush, but you were eager to find out who it was your heart had been given to. “What do you enjoy?”

Charles’ smile dropped as he suddenly remembered the world he had left behind. “Shit, we need to go back. I have a race this week.”

–

“Breaking News: Peace had been brokered between nations all over the globe in a dramatic turn of events. For more information we will be heading to our correspondent at the United Nations HQ…”

Charles turned off the TV in the hotel but he didn’t miss the way your eyes remained fixed on the screen, or the way your lip wobbled. Crossing the room, he grabbed your hands and bent his knees so you were eye to eye. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault,” you whispered through the lump in your throat. “I failed my duties.”

He looked back at the TV where you could still see the breaking news. Peace had come after two thousand years of skirmishes and wars on the mortal plane. There should have never been wars to begin with. 

“That isn’t your fault,” he argued, but he had the knowledge of the gods, he understood how your power worked. The gods were a fragile ecosystem that required balance. You were the balance to Ares’ power and his effect on the world.

“I was weakened when Kàrolos died, I lost half of myself, half of my strength. It left Ares unchecked - of course it is my fault.”

Charles wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t stare at the TV. “You’re making things right now, that’s what matters.”

“It’s not even me,” you laughed bitterly. “It’s you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Come on,” he said as he started to drag you towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“You need a distraction, and I know just the thing.” 

Charles drove to the circuit he would be practising on in the morning and it was relatively quiet as he led you through the paddock. A few teenagers excitedly asked for photos with him and you smiled as he stopped to talk with each one. He was so different to Kàrolos. Kàrolos was a warrior, proud and unmoving. Most children gave him a wide berth when they saw the scars that littered his body. It wasn’t in him to idly chatter or placate others, the only soft spot he had was for you. 

“You’re very patient,” you commented as he waved goodbye and continued to the edge of the track. 

He smiled shyly and looked at his shoes as he shrugged. “I try my best to talk to fans, especially when I have the time. Take a few laps with me?”

You followed his gaze to a Ferrari that was parked in the pit lane. “I’ve never been in a car.”

“No, really?” His eyes were wide with disbelief and you laughed at the innocence in those eyes. 

“I go where I want, I’ve never needed to drive.”

He grabbed your hand and excitement flowed through you as he set a quick pace to the car. “Trust me?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.

You were immortal so it didn’t matter if he crashed. Sure, it would hurt but you would eventually heal. But the question felt heavier than just asking if you trusted him not to crash, more that you could trust him to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you, Charles.”

You slipped into the seat that was moulded to cradle you before he bent down and buckled the clips in for you. His cologne reached your nose at the close proximity and you inhaled deeper as you committed the rich scent to your memory. 

“Is this comfortable?” he asked as he tugged the harness.

“It is…managable.” Restrictive, confined, and claustrophobic came to mind but you didn’t want to worry him as he went around to his side. There was energy in his step that had been missing in Olympus, an ambience that brightened the moment he arrived at the racing track, and you wanted to keep that light in his aura. 

“We’ll take the first one slow,” he promised as he started the engine and gripped the wheel. 

You had flown into battle on the back of a pegasus, you had held onto the fins of charybdis as they raced through Posiden’s domain. Nothing came close to the thrill and the speed of Charles’ car. 

Your heart jumped up your throat as you were thrown back into the seat and then the world around you blurred. Everything faded away except for the window ahead and you didn’t dare blink in case you missed a moment. There were no thoughts on the what ifs of the future, or the regrets of your past. There was only the car, and Charles grinning at you.

“Are you sure this is slow?” you asked with a giddy laugh as the adrenaline reached your head and the initial surprise was erased.

“Hold on, cherie.” The engine roared louder and like a beast it leapt forward. A scream of exhilaration filled the car as Charles lassoed the metal beast and wrangled it through each corner until he finally slowed to return to the pit lane. 

“I finally understand the obsession,” you admitted as he parked back where he had left. Your fingers were almost stiff where they had gripped the harness over your chest and you flexed the feeling back into them before unbuckling it. “I can’t even describe it, but I feel alive - if that makes sense? I can’t think quite clearly now.”

“I understand.” Charles smiled softly and wiped away the stray tear that ran down your cheek from having your eyes wide open for so long. “It’s getting late.”

You climbed out of the car and looked up to see stars dotting the desert night sky. It felt like time stopped while you were in the car but nothing could stop time and it all came rushing back. “Can we do this again?” you asked, a little sheepish at how needy you sounded.

“Of course,” Charles promised, taking your hand as naturally as breathing. “After this race it’s winter break and I am all yours.” He stumbled and caught himself. “I mean, if you want to hang out and, uh, stuff. I don’t have any plans, but if you do we can figure something ou-”

You rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek that was turning pink in the moonlight and he fell silent. “I don’t have any plans either.”

Charles stared at your lips, still feeling the warmth on his cheek and he touched the skin as a smile tugged at his lips and he nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay.” 

“You’re cute,” you said as you felt the urge to kiss his lips next.

His nose wrinkled at the compliment. “Cute?”

“Amongst other things,” you added, biting your lip to keep your other thoughts to yourself. 

He grew confident and curled his finger under your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and pulling it free from your teeth. “You’re beautiful.”

Your lungs refused to work as his head dipped down slowly, giving you time to change your mind. You could still feel the remnants of that thrill in your veins and the charge was electric as you gave into your desire and threw your arms around his neck. The kiss started slowly, hesitation holding you both back as you tasted the chemistry, but it grew deeper as his arms curled around your waist, pulling your bodies flush. 

The track faded away as you spared one last critical thought to teleport back to the hotel room. Charles blinked as he looked around the bedroom, but the surprise turned to a smirk. “That is handy.”

“You can do it too,” you said as your fingers traced the hem of his shirt. “You can just have to picture the image in your mind.”

Cold kissed your skin and you looked down to see your own shirt had disappeared. 

“Holy shit, it worked,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your shirt returned in an instant but it was now the same shade of red as his team colours. 

“I wasn’t complaining,” you smirked but the humour dimmed as his hands came to rest on your waist that was still wrapped in red cotton. “We can take it slow, Charles.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you, not your regrets. I want you to be ready.” Ready for an eternity together.

Charles sat at the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap. “The first thing you should know about me is I have never been good at going slow,” he admitted as he cupped your cheek and crushed his lips to yours.

[wordbreaker]

The Taming of the Dragon, 2 ✷ Aemond Targaryen

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen / F!OC

SUMMARY: One evening, Aemong, in dire need of clearing his head, catches a Dragonkeeper on the beach tending to Vhagar. The Queen of Dragons doesn't seem bothered by the stranger's presence. Quite the opposite. Aemond is immediately intrigued. Even more so when he discovers that the stranger is a girl who comes from the North and bears the name Snow.

-ˋˏ previous chapter ✶ following chapter ✶ ao3 ✶ my inbox ˎˊ-

            Lucella Snow had done her utmost to avoid the beach in the last days, for fear of finding Vhagar and her rider there. It had only taken one encounter. One encounter to remind Lucella why she had gone to such lengths to avoid Aemond Targaryen for two years.

The rumours that one’s ears picked up on the fly in taverns were true—the man was nothing but condescension and cruelty.

Lucella had taken care to establish a precise and safe routine, only approaching Vhagar when night had fallen and the dragon was enjoying a well-earned rest. Apart from a few rare occasions, the prince only took her flying during daytime. Her age forced him to control his whims. Dragons like Sunfyre or Dreamfyre were bursting with energy and could fly fast and long without tiring but the golden age of Aegon I's conquest was long gone. Centuries had passed and Vhagar had felt the effects.

It took nothing away from her greatness, but this reality—which many preferred to deny—showed that no matter how beautiful and majestic they might be, dragons too had to obey the harsh laws of nature—nothing could last forever.

Knowing this had prompted Lucella to don her armour and boots this morning. Duty had won out over fear. She hadn't even lasted two days and cursed against her lack of backbone.

Vhagar needed her and that outweighed everything else.

The sun blinded Lucella. It had already warmed the sand by the time she reached the yellow dunes. Now that the prince had caught her, Lucella saw no reason to come at night. She just hoped it wouldn't upset Vhagar. An old lady like her didn't react well to big changes.

Mealtimes would remain fixed for the same reason—three hours after sunset. The more thankless tasks, however, would no longer be hidden by the night’s thick and dark cloak but warmed by the gentle rays of the sun. This would be just as pleasant for Vhagar as it would be for Lucella, who, if she was honest, was beginning to feel the chill of the midnight wind. It didn’t take long to grow accustomed to the warm sun of the South, even for someone named Snow.

She finally caught sight of Vhagar. A smile lit up her face. Lucella would never tire of seeing her. The dragon was the last vestige of their history, a relic of war and a living reminder of a past that was no more. As majestic as she was frightening, her roars gave Lucella goosebumps.

The girl was relieved to see that the beast was alone. No princely rider to nag in her ears and complicate her already intense work.

Aemond Targaryen lacked a good education. It was obvious in the way he treated others and the way he held himself—straight, chin up, eyes fixed. Everything about him reeked of smugness. Coming out of a royal vagina—only by marriage, mind you—didn't give him the right to be so detestable.

“Rytsas, Vhagar.”

The greeting rolled naturally off her tongue. The dragon blew a puff of air in response, sending a few strands of Lucella’s hair flying with the hot gust.

Like all the other Dragonkeepers, Lucella had had to learn High Valyrian to communicate with the beasts. While her colleagues were content with only learning the commands needed to control the dragons, Lucella fell in love with the sounds, so different from their Common Tongue, and set out to learn more. The story of Old Valyria was simply fascinating. She understood why, even after its disappearance, families like the Targaryens and the Velaryons prided themselves so much in their origins. They were the heirs to a civilisation whose destruction had only strengthened the mystery surrounding it.

Lucella couldn't read complex books in the language yet, but one day she would, she was sure of it. The girl was nothing if not stubborn.

She let her bag crash to the ground. Vhagar lifted her neck to sniff at it, probably looking for her meal. She had come to associate Lucella with “food”, which worried the keeper, who had no particular desire to end up as dragon food.

Although she and Vhagar had developed a rather symbiotic relationship, the latter was still a wild animal, dictated by her instincts and desires. If she ever decided that Lucella was her enemy, the keeper would end up in her mouth or burnt to a crisp with no remorse.

“Be patient. You'll get to eat tonight.”

Instead of a carcass—which would never have fit in her bag anyway—Lucella pulled a dagger from her bag and advanced towards the dragon, who had gone back to sleep, having found nothing of interest among the leather.

Lucella brushed her fingertips across Vhagar's scales until she was close to her ribs. She brought the dagger close to the hard skin and began to scratch between the scales. All sorts of things piled up there, from crustaceans to piles of dry earth. They soiled her coat and ruined the magnificent green that characterised it—an abominable sight for Lucella, who couldn't imagine the Queen of Dragons being tarnished in any way.

The keepers back in the Dragonpit didn't bother with such elaborate tasks. They had never understood her love for Vhagar. Too weird. Too dangerous. They kept their judgment to themselves, but Lucella wasn't stupid. She could see it in their eyes, that damned scepticism. It was easy enough for her to perceive the question that adorned all their thoughts: why? Why bother when other dragons, much more docile, much calmer, lived and breathed?

Lucella didn't even know if her companions tolerated the dragons they bred and raised. It was not unusual to overhear conversations in which they railed against the Targaryens and their mounts. While she understood the hostility towards the royal family, nothing could explain their animosity towards these beasts.

According to Lucella, this hatred was totally unjustified. Yes, many had fallen victim to the dance of flames spurting from their breath. Yes, their fangs could devour anything, even a human, in just one bite. But dragons were still animals, a fact her colleagues tended to forget.

There existed no justification in the world for cruelty towards them, no matter what they looked like. Every animal deserved to be treated with respect and love, especially a dragon.

Lucella scratched another scale. A hermit crab had taken refuge in the joint of her wing. With the tip of her blade, she dislodged it and placed it on the ground. It fled and disappeared behind the dunes.

Seeing this reminded her why Lucella bent over backwards to make the dragon as comfortable as possible. She couldn't possibly leave Vhagar like that. Just the thought of crustaceans and other small animals with too many legs crawling over her own body made her shiver. Lucella had no scales to protect her, but she thought that even with this natural armour, the sensation must not have been pleasant at all.

Vhagar suddenly tensed. Lucella was trying to scrape off a particularly tough clump of dirt, but the place— between her protruding ribs, right on a fading scar—made it a delicate operation. She rested her hand and cheek against the dragon’s side.

“'s all right,” she said. “Shh... Lykirī... Calm down.”

The dragon didn't do so until Lucella had scratched the last barnacle. Filthy little beasts. They always found a way to cling on. She had lost count of the number she removed each week. Lucella went round the gigantic body, taking care not to turn her back on the beast, and started to scrap the right side. Throughout the operation, she kept reassuring Vhagar, either in High Valyrian or in the Common Tongue. The language didn't really matter. Dragons focused on one’s intentions, not one’s words.

“Are you the only one to come here? Were no others available?”

Lucella gasped when she heard the curt voice. It cracked in the air like a whip.

So preoccupied with her task, she hadn't even heard him arrive. He was staring at her with a blasé eye, his arms crossed, and his leather coat pulled tight. 

Lucella cursed under her breath for paying so little attention to her surroundings. Vhagar had this terrible habit of hypnotising her. The dragon captured all her attention and made her fall into an infinite well of admiration and affection.

“Vhagar killed a keepah three months ago.”

The prince raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by this information. Lucella was as surprised by his reaction. He must have heard about it. He should have. She was his dragon, after all. A rider must know such things.

Lucella knew Vhagar to be dangerous and impulsive, but she did not know her to be cruel. There had been no motive for the keeper’s death. Vhagar had been fed, washed, and hydrated earlier in the day. Nothing could have predicted the attack. The dragon had burnt flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a mountain of black ashes for the sheer pleasure of it. There was no question of instinct or nature. Vhagar had revelled in his screams and would no doubt have feasted on his flesh had other guards not interfered.

Lucella remembered the screams, Vhagar deaf to their orders, the smell of burning flesh, Elder Norbert's face twisted in the ordeal of the flames. She remembered rushing between the dragon and him, standing as a barrier, ready to sacrifice herself to give him a chance to live. She remembered Vhagar sniffing at her curiously, she remembered closing her eyes, her legs wobbling, ready to face death. She remembered the wind whipping her face as the dragon flew away, leaving the guardian for dead but Astrisse intact.

She'd had nightmares about it for months. The human mind was a curious invention. It replayed the worst moments of your life to make you realise how lucky you were. Finding comfort in horror.

But terror had not been able to overcome her fascination for the dragon that had almost killed her. She had gone in search of her in a fit of stupidity and found her in the middle of these very dunes. Hypnotised by her beauty, Lucella had forgotten that she could have devoured her whole.

Beside her, the prince smiled. Lucella thought that perhaps he and Vhagar were meant for each other—two unstable beings who liked to play a bit too much with fire.

The keeper let her gaze drift to his leather eye patch, but quickly turned back to Vhagar, who growled in greeting. She scratched at yet another crustacean, perhaps a little harder than necessary when she felt him approach, but who would know? No one. In any case, Vhagar didn't seem to mind.

Lucella felt his gaze on the side of her face. Her cheek began to itch.

“'m the only one who can get close,” she finally admitted in a weak voice.

Lucella cleared her throat. There was no way she was going to look shy and fragile in front of Aemond Targaryen. He would enjoy seeing her doubt very much. She wouldn't give him any satisfaction.

“A sort o’ appointed guardian, if yeh like,” she continued more confidently.

“If you're her so-called guardian, why haven't I seen you before?”

“’cause Dragonkeepers are taught t’ be as discreet as possible.”

He laughed.

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“And yet that's wha’ we've been taught since t’ order was created.”

“King Jaehaerys I founded the order to prevent dragons from being stolen.”

“Maybe in t’ beginning,” she shrugged, “but things ’ave changed. Kings ’ave died. Others took their place. Dragons ’ave multiplied ’nd they became uncontrollable. T’ order had to adapt ’nd maintain t’illusion.”

“What illusion?”

“That yeh control yer dragons.”

The prince glared at her, but Lucella wouldn't take her words back. It was easy to “tame a dragon,” a feat the Targaryens took great pride in, when seventy-seven other people were literally burning to teach them to obey. Dohaerās. Obey me. The word made them proud. But where was the merit in riding a dragon when some lost flesh and limb to make them docile? Obedience was born in suffering and fire, two things the Targaryens delighted in handing out, godlike, without experiencing them first-hand.

The ‘blood of the dragon’, they called themselves. Lucella had almost laughed when she had heard it. The Targaryens were as much dragons as she was noble.  Their 'gift' was just an illusion. The first riders of the lineage may once have had this talent, but it disappeared when the order of Dragonkeepers was created by Jaehaerys I.

Dragons had grown stronger over the years, their riders, weaker. Imbalance. Dragonkeepers were the ones to keep the harmony from falling altogether.

“How dare you spread such nonsense? In front of your prince!”

“’nd yet ‘am right, yer ‘ighness. D’ yeh honestly think yeh could tame a wild dragon?”

“Of course I can. I claimed the largest one when I was ten.”

And it had cost him an eye. Everyone knew the sob story. Surely a fair price from his point of view. Lucella shook her head, exasperated by the prince's obstinacy. 

“Except tha’ Vhagar is ovah two ’undred years old ’nd ’as four riders already. Yeh really think you could’ve tamed ’er when she was just a babe?”

“If her egg had been placed in my cradle, yes.”

“It helps t’ create a bond ’tween t’ future ridah ’nd their mount, true,” she conceded. “But ’t’s not enough. A dragon might recognise yeh and not burn yeh because o’ it, but there’s no guarantee tha’ it will let yeh ride it, let alone listen to yeh. There's this dragon we're raising right now. Very young. Only six months old. We started training it three months ago. Six keepers wounded. Two others burned to death. It ’as known High Valyrian for ’alf ’ts life 'nd yet refuses t’ listen.”

“Perhaps because you are not a Targaryen.”

She sighed. It was like trying to talk to a deaf man.

“Go on then. In tha’ pit, I mean. T’ last time yeh went in there everythin’ went accordin’ t’ plan, ain’t tha’ right?”

Lucella immediately regretted her words. Elder Galladon, perhaps the oldest keeper, had told her many stories about the royal children. Dragonkeeper passed the time like that and soothed their burns with laughter. The sordid tale of sibling quarrelling, a winged pig and a little prince almost burnt alive had stuck with her.

The prince glared at her. Suddenly, she understood why so many people would talk about him with trembling voices. Lucella felt the colour drain from her face. She gripped her dagger so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Careful now, girl. I could have your tongue for that.”

“Wha’ I mean,” she continued, undeterred, “’s tha’ any dragonkeeper could ride a dragon.”

They wouldn't. Of course. The crumpled ego of a Targaryen burned hotter than the fire of the dragons they rode.

“That's not true and you know it.”

“O’ course, ’cause I dunno wha’ ’am talking a’bout, right?”

Her words were laced with sarcasm.

“Exactly.”

She nodded. A forced smile tugged painfully at her cheeks.

“Keep believing tha’. I don't giv’ a fuck what yeh think.”

Lucella turned back to Vhagar and continued to scrape her scales. The back of her neck grew hot under the prince's piercing gaze. For a while, she managed to ignore him. She cracked on the fifth barnacle. Her hand slipped and the dagger fell to the ground. Her shoulders dropped. Lucella sighed.

“Why did yeh come here, anyway? Except to keep me from me work, tha’ is.”

Aemond Targaryen raised his only visible eyebrow and replied that he had nothing to answer for, least of all when it concerned his dragon. He insisted on the ‘his’, anxious to remind Lucella that she had no place here. She rolled her eyes.

If Lucella were honest with herself, she would find his undeniable love for Vhagar almost touching. But the prince annoyed her, and she would never dare to associate anything positive with this awful character. She preferred to let herself fall into a pit of hatred and annoyance. These emotions were familiar to her, far from the beat her heart missed when she let her eyes linger on his harmonious—no, royal—features. 

She looked away with warm cheeks and scraped away the few remaining marine intruders.

Lucella caressed Vhagar's green flank one last time. The dragon shook her head in response. The girl walked over to her leather bag and slung it over her shoulder. Dagger in hand, Lucella left without a glance for the prince.

Her work was done here and he couldn't make her stay, Targaryen or not. Returning to Dragonpit was more important than entertaining a prince who was as mad as he was lonely.

“I did not say you could leave.”

“Well I am. Good’day, yer ’ighness.”

Lucella walked past him and they found themselves side by side. She pulled the thick leather of her trousers as best she could and bowed low in a mocking curtsy. When she straightened up, Aemond was still staring at her. Head held high, she turned and left without a glance for this prince who was seriously starting to piss her off.

[one-of-many-journeys]

Day 32

The Grave Hoard

I pressed on toward the sounds of activity, finding a group of Eclipse and corrupted machines. Took out as many as I could silently or by setting off their blaze packs, targeting the rest with sharpshot arrows. Once I got my hands on a Deathbringer gun, the fight was as good as over.

Climbing further into the ruin, I came across a projection. Sylens told me it was a map of the world. I knew the landscape must be curved at the very least, because of the shadow cast on the moon during eclipses—it always made more sense to me that the the world itself was an object in a dark open space, rather than the sky being some flat projection of changing lights. Therefore, the lands themselves would cast a shadow. I wasn't expecting a globe, though. How does it all stay upright?

Sylens gave me some materials about it to study later. Wonder if I can find the places I've travelled on a map that large.

I headed toward the sound of more Eclipse at work, picking up another power cell along the way. Just one more after that and I can get to that armour!

Back out into the light where the body of the dead Horus lay. The Eclipse were tinkering with it, trying to wake it. If they ever did, it would spit out machine after machine until it was defeated, eating as it went. The Eclipse must not understand what they're really doing, unless they've found a way to control them—like Faro once did, with his unbreakable codes.

The Horus gave a brief, terrifying spasm of life, launching a fully-formed Deathbringer to the ground. I tried to pick off the Eclipse from above, but when the Deathbringer spotted me, it tore the gangway out from under me with its exploding mines. Managed to catch my grappling hook on a piece of the wall to save myself in the fall.

I had to keep moving to avoid the endless stream of fire and bullets spewing from the Deathbringer, slinging hardpoint arrows into the vents on its legs whenever I carved out a space in cover. Then it began to expose its cooling rods and larger vents, overheating more quickly as I destroyed them. The fight got easier as it went, and soon the machine crumpled in a cloud of sparks.

I know the Old Ones had much more powerful weaponry, stronger armour, but how did they ever defeat whole armies of these things? All I know is, if the civilisation of today faced the same, we'd fall fast beneath their unending tread. I can't let it happen.

Delving further, climbing up this time, more datapoints told of the destruction wrought on the world. Then I came to a large chamber with huge screens of garbled data and a circular table in the centre, with a final archived conversation archived for playback. It was Elisabet, addressing the council of War Chiefs about the threat to come, and about project Zero Dawn.

Operation Enduring Victory was partly Elisabet's proposal, along with the leading chief, general Herres. One of the other attendants likened it to...throwing civilians into a meat grinder. From the other datapoints I came across, it certainly sounded that way. All those people the soldiers described, they weren't fighters, but because of Operation Enduring Victory, they held onto hope that Zero Dawn would save them. Because no one was allowed to talk about how strong the swarm really was, people believed they stood a chance in defeating them, but Elisabet knew from that first meeting with Faro at Maker's End that there was none. Not before the world and its civilizations were destroyed beyond recognition.

Herres told Elisabet that project Zero Dawn would be developed in something called an...orbital launch base. Maybe somewhere to launch a weapon. I think Sylens may be right. The weapon Elisabet built must have destroyed almost everyone in the world, not just the machines, otherwise there would have been no need for secrecy. I can understand why some people would want to drop their weapons when faced with such a grim future. Are we the descendants of the people who survived that destruction, however few?

I gathered all the data I could find, though most of it was too heavily corrupted to make sense of, as usual. Then I climbed up out of the facility and into the frigid morning light.

Sylens deigned to project his image there to greet me, probably a lot warmer where ever he was. He'd discovered the location of the launch base, but it's right under the citadel at Sunfall, the stronghold of the Shadow Carja. That probably means the Eclipse are already there too. If they've already gotten to Elisabet's weapon and destroyed it...but they can't have, or Hades wouldn't be so bent on killing me.

Too many Eclipse leaders with Focuses in Sunfall, Sylens said. They'd be able to spot me coming, tell each other and Hades too. Sylens can't disable them like he can with a few Focuses at a time. He told me of the Focus network, a web of invisible light that the devices use to communicate. I suppose he's strung one up between our Focuses, letting him speak to and spy through me. He directed me to a place deep in the jungles of the Jewel, where I'd be able to cut down the web and disable all of the Eclipse's communications. Maybe an Eclipse camp or another ancient ruin, he wouldn't say. Then, it's on to the base of project Zero Dawn.

Flew down the wires lining the Horus' metal tendrils. A cold rush—I enjoyed every moment, but I was exhausted by this point. Wounded a little, winded, and with a lot of data to sift through. I still don't know what Hades really is, or why it wants to wake Faro's machines. I need to head up to the Cut to understand these demons and new, stronger machines the Banuk speak of. There must be a connection to Hades and the corruption. Even if they understand little of the ancient past, the Banuk seem to understand the machines more deeply than the other tribes. Maybe I can learn from them. About the machines...and maybe about Sylens too. There's something important he's not telling me.

Took a fun shortcut over the snowdrifts back to the Banuk encampment. My mount wandered off while I was gone, our connection interrupted. Must be a web between it and my Focus as well. The snow gets so deep here, can't imagine what it must be like further north.

Slept in one of the Banuk's communal tents through the rest of the morning and early afternoon, heading off as the sun began its descent.

Picked up another mount and rode back to the path to the Cut I'd spotted the day before.

Sylens wasn't too happy when I started my climb. Because he wants me as his weapon against the Eclipse, his data collection instrument? Or because his past among the tribe will reveal more reasons for me to distrust him?

Ohtur's rumours proved true. I quickly came across the path of a new machine, its armour dark and infected with tendrils of purple light. It's like the corruption, like my override module—so it must be slaved to some other will, strung with webbing of some other network. Whose?

It was almost like a Sawtooth, but smaller, faster, and seething with fire. I took it down with blaze explosions then frost from my sling, piercing its brittle hide.

Onwards through the night, the snows growing thicker as I climbed. The Banuk sentinels sounded a mighty signal horn at my approach, and for a moment I worried that I would be met with hostility, but along the cavern path to their territory, the Banuk greeted me in a wary but cordial way. I can tell they're the sort of people that it will take a great deal to impress and gain favour with. So far I've been pretty good at that, so I'm optimistic. From what I've learnt so far, the Banuk are a people who value strength and tenacity, scorning all comforts. Rost would have got on great here.

I think I will too.

Sun rising as I finished the climb. A new day in strange lands.

[rebuiltproject]

Agnusmon

Nível Adulto / Seijukuki / Champion  Atributo Vacina  Tipo Anjo  Campo Destruidores de Vírus (VB)  Significado do Nome Agnus, Cordeiro em Latim. 

Descrição 

Agnusmon é a forma evoluída de Croixmon que surge quando seu treinamento chega ao fim e o Poder da Destruição é completamente dominado. 

Agora, com uma versão aprimorada da armadura em seu braço esquerdo, essa Digimon tornou-se capaz de conter todo tipo de ameaça ao parear a energia negativa do alvo com seu Poder, selando-o com correntes de luz que se estendem de seu Anel Sagrado. Tal habilidade é usada na captura de Digimons que servirão como familiares, pois antes eles eram levados ao Kernel depois de uma batalha árdua que, algumas vezes, custava a vida de alguns anjos, mas com Agnusmon o processo passou a ser muito mais seguro, tanto para os anjos quanto para o familiar, mesmo que ela ainda precise da ajuda de seus superiores quando o Digimon é muito poderoso. 

Contudo, a função de Pastora a ela incumbida é o que mais lhe traz felicidade, pois sempre foi muito zelosa com seus pares e protegidos, então era o mais correto deixá-la responsável pelo “rebanho” de familiares. Mesmo aqueles que são mais rebeldes ou arredios acabam cedendo à simpatia de Agnusmon, que faz de tudo para que estes Digimons se sintam acolhidos, sempre sendo respeitosa, paciente e muito amorosa. 

Essa postura tão carinhosa e compreensiva faz com que todos eles criem um vínculo fortíssimo com ela, colocando-a numa posição tão crucial que alguns anjos chegam a temer a possibilidade de um dia ela se rebelar, pois todos os familiares a seguiriam sem hesitar. 

Técnicas 

Destructio (Destruição) Concentra muita energia em seu braço esquerdo e desfere um soco diretamente no inimigo, causando uma violenta explosão capaz de atravessar armaduras e couraças como se fossem de vidro. 

Pugnus Sacrum (Punho Sagrado) Dispara projéteis de luz incandescente pelos punhos. 

Manuaria Caelestia (Correntes Celestiais) Faz as correntes de seu Anel Sagrado se estenderem para prender o adversário e impedir que ele continue lutando. 

Ungula (Cascos) Avança em direção ao oponente e o atinge com os dois pés.  

Benedictio (Bênção) Bate com seu cajado no chão, liberando uma onda de energia sagrada que cura os aliados próximos. 

Linha Evolutiva 

Pré-Evoluções  Croixmon 

Artista Jonas Carlota  Digidex Empírea 

[hymoh]

ユダヤ教の安息日や祝祭日に食べる編みパン、　ハラー。

メモ (1/4量)

イースト(4,5g)、砂糖(3,5gと25g)、オイル(25g)、卵1つ、塩(3,5g)、強力粉2カップ、ぬるま湯(87,5g)→180℃で30分

しっかり満遍なく卵でブラッシングすること！🥚

ブリオッシュっぽいけど油脂の量も控えめだし、ミルクではなくお湯を使うからか、すっと食べられる。なんか懐かしい味がしたなぁ。

[saecoyle]

Some days after the end of S11..

I have a full wrap of my opinions about the SKAM France seasons from season 5 to 12 coming soon... But I wanted to write about S11 in details, so I don't forget my current opinion after a daily watch - which will be very different from my opinion probs one year later, as I will hopefully get the rest of the gen or just rewatch that season.

Firstly first about the main; I adored Rym.

I have a file for that type of characters, the ones that can't process their grief or any situation that happened. And I enjoy how from Lola to Rym, with Bilal and Maya, grief is always a theme with difference nuances in it. For Rym it was the loss of the person she loved the most. Her grandma, but also her only parental figure as she ever remembered. We don't know a lot at first (hence why I think a rewatch will make me love the season harder, as you get more clues at the start, knowing everything), but we know one thing. Rym is angry. About her fate, about how life got so unfair since she found the firefighters outside of her house.

At the start of the season Rym also experiences denial for what she did. So not only the death of her grandma feels unfair to her but also her mother's choice of letting her to other people, as well as her only friend - and crush, to me - rejecting her for that. It is sure, as soon as we discover episode 4 that Rym has severe anger issues and seek destruction as well as escapism that can be filled by the adrenaline of stealing, putting things on fire and more...

And I love it. Because prior other seasons, that also treated and basically always treats of very gray characters. It is very hard for the public to see her as fully white, when you make it her whole theme.

This is something that annoyed me back then, not holding any mains accountable for what they've done in the past. Because to me, gray characters are way more interesting than all white ones, mostly when they're teens, when there is a possibility of evolution.

Moreover, I love that Rym is a teen, from start to end. When she goes throught her difficulties she's a teen. When she hurts people she's a teen, when she cries, when she falls in love. Even when she's unable to sleep because of the gravity of her acts, she doesn't feel like a 16 year old trying to be an adult. She feels like a 16 year old in a teenager situation, that can be has hard as an adult's one, but still belongs to her.

And that is important.

A thematic that belongs to her; And to the writer!

When I read the first articles I was a bit scared. SKAM France has it's backstory of poor writing considering main and secondary characters that aren't white. Or of any characters that has an identity they ignores or do not share, mostly (Something I'll talk in that next post, that will surely be a novel long atp).

Well, I still don't know if the writing team is finally as diverse as it should be (we barely know anything about the headwriters, that probably are too scared to experience the same thing as the previous writers did), and I don't think it is my role to argue if anything hit or missed considering Rym not being white (because I am very white and french and I don't think I know better than the actress, writers and people concerned themselves) - so if it's the case I let everyone speak abt it in the comments. I have though something to say about the theme, and it's how I love when writers actually knows and experienced their subjetcs.

It's something I already said for S7, season about maternity. It is awesome to have someone leading a season that they care about for that reason. And you see it, and you feel it. Because the characters never feels like the support of their theme, or the other around, but both of theme and main are merged so equally that it becomes one.

By Rym (and Zélie), we discover how juvenile delinquency can start (after a huge shock and changes, family dysfunctions, group effect, feeling of abbandonment, anger issue, self destructions habits). How it looks like (conflict, misbehavior, stealing, putting things on fire, putting yourself in danger or even harming someone). The consequences of it (nights in detention, criminal record, even more family conflicts and the possibility of being judged, by the court, the teachers and everyone around her). How it can go further, (to juvenile detention or, in Rym's case: running away, homelessness) and how it can be stopped, how can Rym herself turn the page of this part of her life. And discover a new one.

I wishh; We are gonna get more or her in the next season(s).

And particularly her friend group - the weirdos.

Look I love the cringe-ness of that name, and the fact it was given as a judgment? And they embraced it? Very cool of them, very edgy. Very me. From the one we know the most to the less I have some nuanced, opinions abt them.

For Cléo, we see him for the first time in the very second clip of the first episode. Cléo looks at Rym first, while she's being bothered already by Félix, the N°1 Shithead of Dorian High-School at the moment. He's the first one that includes Rym in the group, one part (to me) because he sees in her someone that he can trust about not liking that so called Clones group. One another part because it's obvious that Cléo had an immediate crush on her. He's the love-interest of the season and not really a major character in Rym's change, while still being a huge part of her support system. He also brings the non-binary representation that I deeply needed for at least 10 seasons of that show, and that was surely maybe needed to explain a bit more (and hope it will in S12) because I have seen for the past months a lot of confusion - if not blatant transphobia.

Since the first episode - second clip we are introduced to him and his PRONOUNS. They are not a question, they are not even french neutrals that are still in debate for some, along with the full inclusive langage. Cléo casually is non-binary and for us as for his other friend he always has identified as non-binary, compared to Max in S7 it is not even a thematic, as we never presents what it is to be trans and non gender comforming. That choice was made and honestly would have been even better if no one took his gender as a insult and decided to hate him more than any. other. characters. Including the bullies, including the foster parents with a huge (white for Sophie) savior complex.

And I don't say Cléo is perfect. Cléo is at Daphnée and or Jo's image a very complex character since the start. We see him get a lot bullied by his ex-bestfriend's friends (and he probably also participated in it). We see him shifting in class, which (to me) is a bit concerning for his own sanity to be honest. In general, from Rym's point of view, she always seem to catch Cléo in situations that can make him almost crack his self confidence shell. As Daphnée, as Jo or even as Basile, Cléo has some tendencies to be very hyper and focused on apparances, during the season he has issue with trusting Rym as she has her own secrets. And it is obvious this is absolutly not about Rym, but especially about himself, linked to his past demons.

We also learn from Jade that she only knows him from september. Meaning he was probably all alone for a long moment. I am sorry but I can't not feel empathy for a such character, and I know he has much more to offer in the next season(s), mostly with Maël's right now.

For Yanis, he probably is the fan-favorite right now. And he kindaa deserves it. I don't know if it's N'Landu Lubansu chemistry with everyone on screen, or Yanis very refreshing writing but I kinda adore his character. We see him for the first time as Rym mocks his style along with Zélie, and I kinda love the way he was presented as a random guy who likes hicking, gaming and axolotls like many teenage boys. But as we discovers him, we see a much more interesting character.

Yanis lives alone with his mother, that is not only a bit strict but also the new Headmaster of Dorian High-School. As it is - he completly lives inside the school and knows everything about everyone new. That's how he learns about Rym's past and how he is way more understanding about her lying, as he starts to gets her both sharing abandonment issues. More like characters like Redouane and others Yanis is very outside of toxic masculinity. His bestfriends doesn't share his interest, as well as he doesn't feel ashamed or see any issues about wearing his mom's clothes or make-up. He doesn't play either in the - sex comptetition or stuff like that, compared to Pablo and Félix as we're starting to see in the current season.

He also adds the mlm representation to the generation. Yeah you heard me, more than 1 representation, a mlm rep that isn't white. It's almost as if they actually listened to their public this year. I would personally say (or headcanon) that he is pansexual. As it was never said it is very implied that Yanis corresponds under the bi umbrella, and that he actually doesnt care about how his partner presents. He falls in love with another gamer- which brings up e-relationships to the table, as risky as it can be, as cool as it can be. At the end of the season we learns that the so called Piranha is a boy, called Cyril. I really love how this generation portrays teenage relationships and it's nuances, it's diversity and everything. How nice it is to see relationship that will not end in misery, or that are as serious as it can be when you're sixteen, and as unserious as it can be. Also, If my headcanon is right I feel like it's a very very neat upgrade on how the show writes queer people and mostly people under the bi umbrellas (Elliot, Alexia, Lola) as the first gen really enjoyed cheating tropes and bi and panphobic partners for them (even tho I kinda liked seeing Maya get a bit toxic-dumb untrusting because of her breakup. love her). Yanis doesn't need to sleep with both women and men to justify who he is, as well as Rym doesn't need many experiences to know she's gay.

Anyway, he's a character I really want to see more. But as my misfortune made all my faves NOT have a season, for each gens ever I am not gonna wish that for him. Please let him shine. He's way too cool 4 school. :(

For Jade, welll we don't know that much about her. We met her at the same time as Cléo, and not only she is very focused in her own world. She's a very unique type of character that we haven't really seen in the show, but we could (?) see some ressemblances among both Elliot, Noé and Alexia. Jade is a very exentric character by her way of dressing herself, her family - being part Irish but also having a grandparent (Pamie) almost written by Wes Anderson - and her own universe. She says what she wants, does what she wants, is a part of a circus classes and doesn't really care about what people say or not understanding some of the social cues.

Of course a lot of people (me in it) pointed that Jade had many many hints for her to be neurodivergent. And honestly I do hope it is the point because as much as I relate to her, I also feel that she could educate a lot of people on the fact that autistic people doesn't especially mean a man, nor a genius, nor someone that can't mask.

I don't know yet what will be about her character, tho it seems obvious that her character will be important in the current season. Her mom Poppy seeming to appear in it, as well as circus friend Idriss and she already has started to show up (some minutes ago,, lmfao). I'm very curious, since she obviously has a crush on Maël for a while now. There is a possibility her story gets to be told, honestly I'm hyped because I love dearly all the members of the weirdos group.

They all give me comfort and an happy feeling that Lamif also made me feel for a while. A family that Rym deserves and that I hope, Maël will feel the need to join too!

I am almost finished with that novel-lenght review; I have to talk about the other characters.

There is many other interesting things to say about this season. How grief is handled, how abandonment is depicted - not only by her mother but also by her bestfriend Zélie. Her bond from her grandmother, to her own mother. Reuniting after both have lost someone. I particularly love that - at the end of the season they do bond over their traditions and religion, that they both shared with the same person back then. Mostly because since S4 badly written season, only Redouane's and Jo's family had some hints to be muslim and jewish, but as well as Redouane himself, that got ignored in the last two seasons. In general I have some critics to make probably around the lack of clips in some manners - like with her foster family or else. But I feel like in general, there is always a season in the year - duo that lacks more clips than the other, more ofter because they can't provide as much or they are told to cut it from the full show. It is sad, but as I am peaceful about it being the first season ever of the gen, it also shows that not everything is done for Rym.

She still has a lot more time to evolve fully. And I will hopefully be there to see that.