#i love my crucible husbands

[invisibleicewands]

Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon’: how Michael Sheen got sucked into a forever chemicals exposé

An opera-loving member of high society turned eco-activist who was forced into police protection with a panic button round his neck. A Hollywood actor who recorded said activist’s life story as he was dying from exposure to the very chemicals he was investigating. Throw in two investigative journalists who realise not everything is as it seems, then uncover some startling truths, and you have “podcasting’s strangest team” on Buried: The Last Witness.

On their award-winning 2023 podcast Buried, the husband and wife duo Dan Ashby and Lucy Taylor dug into illegal toxic waste dumping in the UK and its links to organised crime. This time, they focus on “forever chemicals”, specifically polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and set out to discover whether one whistleblower may have been decades ahead of his time in reporting on their harmful impact.

“It’s amazing how big the scale of this story is,” says Ashby, as we sit backstage at the Crucible theatre, where they are doing a live discussion as part of Sheffield DocFest. “With this series, we don’t just want it to make your blood turn cold, we want it to make you question your own blood itself.”

It all started when Taylor and Ashby were sent a lead about the work of former farmer’s representative Douglas Gowan. In 1967, he discovered a deformed calf in a field and began to investigate strange goings on with animals close to the Brofiscin and Maendy quarries in south Wales. He linked them to the dumping of waste by companies including the nearby Monsanto chemical plant, which was producing PCBs.

PCBs were used in products such as paint and paper to act as a fire retardant, but they were discovered to be harmful and have been banned since 1981 in the UK. However, due to their inability to break down – hence the term forever chemical – Gowan predicted their legacy would be a troubling one. “I expect there to be a raft of chronic illness,” he said. He even claimed that his own exposure to PCBs (a result of years of testing polluted grounds) led his pancreas and immune system to stop working. “I’m a mess and I think it can all be attributed to PCBs,” he said.

However, Gowan wasn’t a typical environmentalist. “A blue-blood high-society Tory and a trained lawyer who could out-Mozart anyone,” is how Taylor describes him in the series. He would even borrow helicopters from friends in high places to travel to investigate farmers’ fields. Gowan died in 2018 but the pair managed to get hold of his life’s work – confidential reports, testing and years of evidence. “I’m interested in environmental heroes that aren’t cliche,” says Ashby. “So I was fascinated by him. But then we started to see his flaws and really had to weigh them up. My goodness it’s a murky world we went into.”

The reason they were able to delve even deeper into this murky world is because of the award-winning actor Michael Sheen who, in 2017, came across Gowan’s work in a story he read. He was so blown away by it, and the lack of broader coverage, that he tracked him down. “I got a message back from him saying: ‘Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon,’” says Sheen. “I took a camera with me and spent a couple of days with him and just heard this extraordinary story.”

What Gowan had been trying to prove for years gained some traction in 2007, with pieces in the Ecologist and a Guardian article exploring how “Monsanto helped to create one of the most contaminated sites in Britain”. One was described as smelling “of sick when it rains and the small brook that flows from it gushes a vivid orange.” But then momentum stalled.

Years later, in 2023, Ashby and Taylor stumbled on a recording of Sheen giving the 2017 Raymond Williams memorial lecture, which referenced Gowan and his work. Before they knew it, they were in the actor’s kitchen drinking tea and learning he had conducted a life-spanning seven-hour interview with Gowan before his death. So they joined forces. Sheen isn’t just a token celebrity name added for clout on this podcast; he is invested. For him, it’s personal as well as political. “Once you dig into it, you realise there’s a pattern,” he says. “All the places where this seems to have happened are poor working-class areas. There’s a sense that areas like the one I come from are being exploited.”

Sheen even goes to visit some contaminated sites in the series, coming away from one feeling sick. “That made it very real,” he says. “To be looking into a field and going: ‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s toxic waste.’” Sheen was living a double life of sorts. “I went to rehearsals for a play on Monday and people were like, ‘What did you do this weekend?’” he says. “‘Oh, I went to the most contaminated area in the UK and I think I may be poisoned.’ People thought I was joking.” Sheen ended up being OK, but did have some temporary headaches and nausea, which was a worry. “We literally had to work out if we had poisoned Michael Sheen,” says Ashby, who also ponders in the series: “Have I just killed a national treasure?”

The story gets even knottier. Gowan’s findings turn out to be accurate and prescient, but the narrative around his journey gets muddy. As a character with a flair for drama, he turned his investigation into a juicy, riveting story filled with action, which could not always be corroborated. “If he hadn’t done that, and if he’d been a nerdy, analytical, detail-oriented person who just presented the scientific reports and kept them neatly filed, would we have made this podcast?” asks Taylor, which is a fascinating question that runs through this excellent and gripping series.

Ashby feels that Gowan understood how vital storytelling is when it comes to cutting through the noise. “We have so much science proving the scale of these problems we face and yet we don’t seem to have the stories,” he says. “I think Douglas got that. Fundamentally, he understood that stories motivate human beings to act. But then he went too far.”

However, this is not purely about Gowan’s story – it’s about evidence. The Last Witness doubles up as a groundbreaking investigation into the long-lasting impact of PCBs. “We threw the kitchen sink at this,” says Ashby. “The breakthrough for us is that the Royal Society of Chemistry came on board and funded incredibly expensive testing. So we have this commitment to go after the truth in a way that is hardly ever done.”

From shop-bought fish so toxic that it breaches official health advice to off-the-scale levels of banned chemicals found in British soil, the results are staggering. “The scientist almost fell off his chair,” says Ashby. “That reading is the highest he has ever recorded in soil – in the world. That was the moment we knew Douglas was right and we are now realising the scale of this problem. The public doesn’t realise that even a chemical that has been banned for 40 years is still really present in our environment.”

To go even deeper into just how far PCBs have got into our environment and food chain, Ashby and Taylor had their own blood tested. When Taylor found 80 different types of toxic PCB chemicals in her blood it was a sobering moment. “I was genuinely emotional because it’s so personal,” she says. “It was the thought of this thing being in me that was banned before I was even born and the thought of passing that on to my children.” Ashby adds: “We’ve managed physical risk in our life as journalists in Tanzania and with organised crime, but more scary than a gangster is this invisible threat to our health.”

In order to gauge the magnitude of what overexposure to PCBs can do, they headed to Anniston, Alabama, once home to a Monsanto factory. “As a journalist, you have an inbuilt scepticism and think it can’t be that bad,” says Ashby. “But when I got there I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I hate to use words like dystopian, but it was. There is a whole massive school that can’t be used. There’s illnesses in children and cancers. It truly was the most powerful vignette of the worst-case example of these chemicals.”

It’s bleak stuff but instilling fear and panic is not the intention. “Obviously, we’re really concerned about it,” says Ashby. “And although the environmental crises we face do feel overwhelming, it is incredible how a movement has formed and how individuals are taking action in communities. The lesson to take from Douglas is that the response doesn’t have to be resignation. It can be agency.”

[voxslays]

Warnings: Persephone! Reader and Hades! Satan, songfic, will make more sense if you’ve listened to the song or seen the play.

You had just arrived back in the wrath ring, at your husband’s side, after six months of being on earth. You weren’t happy to be back. The smell of sulfur and coal infected your nose, and the red landscape was an eyesore as usual. The souls under Satan’s control were chanting something about keeping their heads low, something you didn’t understand. “In the coldest time of year, why is it so hot down here?” You complained, looking up at your dragon-like husband. “Hotter than a crucible.” You huffed looking down, crossing your arms. “It ain’t right, and it ain’t natural.”

Satan looks down at you with a smirk, his dragon-like wings rustling behind him "Lover, you were gone so long~” You roll your eyes at him. “Lover, I was lonesome.” He strokes your cheek with his large red, calloused hands. “So I built a foundry, in the ground beneath your feet." You stare at him in disbelief, your arms still crossed as you look up at the large dragon man. "Here, I fashioned things of steel, oil drums and automobiles.” Satan lets go of your hands, his orange eyes burning with desire. “Then I kept that furnace fed with the fossils of the dead.” He summons his powers and lights a flame in the palm of his scaly red hand.

He throws the flame into a nearby pit, causing the ground to rumble and shake. He laughs, a deep rumbling sound that echoes through the ring. "Lover, when you feel that fire, think of it as my desire~” He sings lowly. “Think of it as my desire for you!” Satan growls. You quickly storm out of the courtroom and into the streets, only to be met with the bright reds and oranges of the metropolis your ‘husband’ created. In the far distance, you can hear someone singing a sweet melody ‘la, la, la, la, la, la~’ they sang. You stomp on the ground angrily. “In the darkest time of year, why is it so bright down here?” You can feel Satan walk out after you, his giant footsteps shaking the earth beneath his feet. “Brighter than a carnival~” You turn around to face the man. “It ain't right, and it ain't natural!”

Satan steps closer, towering over you with a knowing grin. "Lover, you were gone so long.” He gently grabs your hand. “Lover, I was lonesome." Satan gestures around with a clawed hand "So I laid a power grid, in the ground on which you stand. And wasn't it electrifying when I made the neon shine?" His muscular arms wrap around your waist possessively. He pulls you flush against his hard chest, his hot breath fanning over your face. "Silver screen, cathode ray, brighter than the light of day~" His orange eyes bore into yours intensely. "Lover, when you see that glare, think of it as my despair.” You glare at him angrily. Really? Was he really doing this!? “Think of it as my despair for you!"

All you can hear is the sound of machinery and screams…and your husband's deep voice. But you refused to give into his antics. “Every year, it's getting worse! Wrath Ring, hell on Earth!” You shout, trying to talk some sense into your delusional husband. “Did you think I'd be impressed with this neon necropolis?” He laughs, a deep rumbling sound that makes the ground tremble slightly. “Lover, what have you become?” You cry. “Coal cars and oil drums, warehouse walls and factory floors~” You gesture to the industrial factories and dirty smoke clouding the air of the used-to-be western country. “I don’t know you anymore…”

Satan’s expression turns cold, letting out a menacing growl. “And in the meantime up above,” You look up at the bright orange-red sky, and slowly raise your hands. “The harvest dies and people starve.” You turn back to face your husband. “Oceans rise and overflow. It ain't right and it ain't natural.” You point your finger into his chest. He takes a menacing step forward, his dragon-like features becoming more pronounced. "Lover, everything I do…I do it for the love of you. If you don't even want my love, I'll give it to someone who does." His voice drips with venomous sarcasm. 

He snarls, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the factory. "Someone grateful for her fate, someone who appreciates the comforts of a gilded cage and doesn't try to fly away the moment Mother Nature calls.” He roughly grabs your arm, tugging you into his toned red chest. He looks down at you, his orange eyes glinting with an unnatural light. “Someone who could love these walls that hold her close and keep her safe, and think of them as my embrace.”

“Think of them as my embrace to you.”

[marioposssa]

Time for some real fun statistics, so I wanted to go in hot with the promised questions 'Who's kissing the most and how is it not Napoleon?'

(Short answer: statistic fudging, dual cheek kisses are only counted as a single one, that's how).

So let's start with some numbers.

Across the book we have kisses coming in at 7 of the 9 main books, with the ultimate book 'League of Dragons' also coming in with the most amount of kisses at 7! total.

In second place there's 'His Majesty's Dragon' with a grand total of 5 platonic to steaming hot kisses.

Over all books a total number of 25 kisses are recorded, with Laurence winning the record at a staggering majority of 14 kisses taken part in. This actually surprised me, I expected a bit more even distribution.

The majority of Laurence kisses are shared with Jane Roland across the series, including all 4 recorded kisses on the mouth, one kiss on the cheek, one kiss blown on air and one steamy kiss on the throat, totalling 7 kisses overall.

This may not be so surprising since Laurence is for most of the series our narrator and pretty prudish when it comes to describing romantic activities outside his own and even there he is as always leaving a lot out.

But who else is Laurence kissing?

Well, his mother and Napoleon. Both tie in at 3 different kisses, all on the cheek. In the matter of his mother Laurence does the kissing, with Napoleon though he is unsurprisingly always the kissed.

Laurence also gets a mention for the only recorded kiss on an inanimate object, namely a 'family crucifix' in the house he is staying while recovering from a gunshot wound in 'League of Dragons', to show the terrified mistress of the house that he is not a 'devil'.

My initial contender Napoleon comes in second place with 8! instances of kisses being given, none received. 7 of these are the famous double cheek kisses given to various people in greeting and once he's seen kissing the women's hands of De Guignes entourage during his brief encounter in 'Crucible of Gold'.

Now one could argue, since all of these kisses are actually multiple kisses in disguise, Napoleon should actually come out on top count wise alone, which is true. I would also think we are properly not seeing a lot of the kisses happening, since Laurence does mention a matter of greetings happening during various negotiations.

Who does Napoleon like giving his kisses in the 'gallic manner' to? Well Laurence mainly as described further up. But Napoleon does not discriminate. He is described kissing both ally (De Guigne) and adversary (Russian Lord Tzvilenev). With Tsar Alexander he even shares kisses for greetings on two separate occasions.

Some special mentions:

The queen of Prussia shares two very emotional kisses, one with her husband on his cheek and the other one with her children saying goodbye while sending them away. I love these scenes in the book and they always feel so very dire because they come in directly during the horrors of the prussian battlefield in Black Powder War.

Dunne and Hackley, for being the libidinous guys in the first part of BPW. No direct kisses, but a lot of hot air, twice and the second time with dire consequences.

None of the dragons are being seen kissing or being kissed. While this may not be surprising given the dragons are actual dragons and show their affections in various other ways I still wanted to mention it. Do forehead touches count here instead?

Disclaimer: any kind of statistic analyses over a text that is based on numbers and instance counting alone, especially if it is a novel is most certainly worthless. Almost anything in these posts is for fun and does not hold up as value for thoroughly reading the actual books. I mainly do this because it's my thing and a nice brainstarter.

[velvet-apricots]

for the character ask: Marika!

favorite thing about them

These are all of my own personal ideas, but

the gut wrenching tragedy of her. Her village destroyed, everyone she knew dead in a horrific way. And instead of laying down and giving in, she instead steals the divinity the Hornsent sought from them. She becomes a god, and sets out to build a world of order and of kindness. Things she believes the Hornsent lack. And once she has her armies, she returns the pain a thousand fold.

And then it all starts to go horribly wrong. Her revenge is too brutal. What sort of God of Order and Kindness would do such horrible things? So she erases her crimes and she abandons her first born son, the son who killed them all for her. The son that awaits her return until his dying breath.

Not all is horrible. She has godwyn. She has Godfrey. She has her means to escape, built upon the ashes of her daughter.

And then the crucible "blesses" her with twins, adorned with horns and wings She tries to love them, but they terrify her, they remind her. She has so much hatred and fear in her heart she can not love them. She abandons them, and the only kindness she can spare is a decree that Omens of royal birth are not excised of their horns.

And then she looses Godfrey. She has a new husband. One who throws himself into the Golden Order, a world she made that becomes more and more of a cage. The gods curse their children, and her world becomes smaller and smaller. Her own hatred and fear bleeds into her order, spreading to apply to anyone who is different. And the kindness of gold she envisioned becomes only a bitter memory.

All she has is Godwyn, and then, in one horrible night, she doesn't.

least favorite thing about them

She is, beyond any doubt, a monster. She has killed countless people, she abandoned her children, and no doubt has a very unhealthy co-dependency with Godwyn. I definatly think that in the end he was her only joy and that made her refuse to let him go, smothering him.

I can not excuse her actions (jokes of womens wrongs aside)

Her fans can also be super annoying, woobifying her to extreme degrees and saying shit like "the Hornsent deserved it", as if farmers deserved to be killed when the ones who actually did harm to her sit unbothered in the tower of shadow.

favorite line

Hear me, Demigods. My children beloved. Make of thyselves that which ye desire. Be it a Lord. Be it a God. But should ye fail to become aught at all, ye will be forsaken. Amounting only to sacrifices...

brOTP

Marika and Maliketh. He's quite litterally her brother from another mother (the fingers... or is it Meytr?) I imagine they were a terrifying duo, building the foundations of her empire.

OTP

Marika x Godfrey. I fully believe he was the only man she ever loved. And he loved her, to the point that there is dialogue where he declares the desire to hold her in his arms again. They are the power couple of power couples.

nOTP

I would not say this is a notp, but i really do not care about Rennala and Marika as a couple. There is no appeal to me what so ever. I don't hate it thought, but I just would rather them be with... You know.... The people they were originally married to.

Also I don't care that much about Marika/Radagon either. Like I know they have kids, but its kinda clear in japanese dialogue that she hates his guts. I don't think he liked her either. They were just married cause the Greater Will demanded it.

random headcanon

when she is nervous she will play with her braids.

unpopular opinion

She loved Mohg and Morgott but her hatred and trauma made her a terrible mother.... In fact that goes for all of her kids.

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[vwv-watching-boy]

I KNOW IT'S NOT THE SAME BUT THE END OF S7 E12 REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF CRUCIBLE.

@jackalopc @i-used-to-be-a-spy

I'm just gonna tag you in all of them

Let me explain.

So in the crucible, there is Abilgial, John protector, and Elizabath protector.

Abigail is one of the girls who accuse other people of witchcraft as well as (what I believe) her uncle being a respected member of the church. (you only need to know this to understand some authority she had in the situation)

Abigail is having an affair with John protector to the point she believes Protector will leave his wife for her. To the point, she accuses Elizabeth of witchcraft. John is then given the perfect opportunity to leave Elizabeth for Abigail. He tells Abigail no. She flips the fuck out and accuses him of witchcraft and then he chooses to die before accusing anyone else of witchcraft.

(quick little summary of those 3 characters' relationship just in case people don't know it)

NOW.

Abigail would be Sonya, Fi would be Elizabeth and John would be Michael.

Elizabeth does not believe in witchcraft at all. She thinks it's such a foolish thing these girls are going on about. She is also aware her husband is having an affair but there is very little she can do about it. Other than waiting for him to choose the right thing.

Fiona is doing that at this very moment as her life is on the line waiting for Michael to make the right decision. She refuses to fall into the mindset of Michael and Sonya. She will die first.

Abigail is a girl influenced by her passion. In the story that's her love for protector. Now. I don't think Sonya is motivated by her love of MIchael, as much as the position she and MIchael could be in. Which is something Abigail brings up a lot. Abigail and Protector were both respected members of their community.

John. Which would be Michael. Has done wrong. He had an affair with Abigail. He sided with James and Sonya. But when push comes to shove he chooses his family. He did not fall into the belief that would be the easier thing to do. It would be easier to let Abigail accuse his wife of witchcraft and then marry her. It would have been easier for Sonya to kill Fi and run the org with her.

now in the crucible, John protector dies compared to Sonya. but still. but still. they both chose their families.

Now I don't know if it was intentional. But it reminded me of it so much that I wanted to talk about it.

The Crucible is one of my favorite works. It was written during the Red Scare. After writing it Author Morgan was not allowed back in the country for a couple of years. I really like Author Morgan's works in general. Loved the crucible.

[blackberrysummerblog]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Hey all! Thanks so much for tagging me @wellbelesbian, @aristocratic-otter, @valeffelees, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @ivelovedhimthroughworse and @iamamythologicalcreature! You’ve all correctly determined that I am procrastinating writing.

1. 🐬Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

I actually don’t have any that are named at this point. Titles and tags are really difficult for me and I put both off to the last minute and second-guess myself into hell

2. 🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___=___”

Popular movie retelling + flying goats = Baz and Dev have A Spot of Bother

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Wraaaugugh, see #1 :P. I don’t know, in seriousness, I think the WIP mentioned above will end up getting a tag for sexual harassment or something like that given the nature of one necessary scene in the movie it’s based on. It’s not going to be worse than the source material, which is PG-13

4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Oh, to have so many ideas for titles that there’s ever an alternative lying around to spare :(

5. ⚠️Which wip your most likely to finish or update next?

I’m pretty likely to finish a sequel to Field Trip of Dreams (SEE WHAT I MEAN about titles?) this week. The eighth years are off on another field trip—this time it’s a weekend training excursion with the Mage. Baz and Simon have been dating for the short time that’s passed since FToD, but they manage to get in a fight on the bus trip to Scafell Pike, and when it turns into a sort-of-tussle the Mage mistakes it for actual animosity and sends them off to a secluded cabin to bang (I mean work🙄) it out. Absolutely everybody but Davy—including the other teachers—knows exactly how much of a “punishment” this is

6. 💾 What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)

Practical magic au

7. 🖍️Post Any sentence from your wip

“Shut up, Gareth!” we shout as one, Snow adding a few brutish threats as Gareth pales and turns back around in his seat.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I actually can’t remember. I don’t plot my writing out very extensively so in a sense there’s hundreds of little scrapped thoughts rather than anything huge. I’m eliminating a lot of things with my crucible marriage fic, but it’s hard to say right now what’s actually gone or just being moved around. I know a major one I’ve been battling with is that prior to getting dragged off to Pitch Manor by his new husband Baz, I want Simon to have been living with Penny in a flat of their own, but for another aspect of the story I want him to have been living with the Mage in Watford (which is an au mage’s settlement in the fic) as well. There’s ways to work around it for the results I want, I just haven’t written it out yet.

9. 🤔What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

I’m pretty sure I have at least a few lines written down for everything I want to write

10. 🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

Oh, man…actively, probably the field trip one and my COBB. Somewhat less actively: a reverse COBB fic, a sequel to Monsters Under the Bed, a sequel to After Hours where Simon makes good on his promise to despoil Baz on his office desk, and my unending crucible marriage fic. Less active than that: a fic response to a prompt for Simon being the one kidnapped and Baz has to rescue him. There’s probably (cough*definitely*cough) some pretty messed-up OOC smut stuff lying around in my docs as well, that I add to when I’m in the mood and have zero plans to ever post

11. 🛠️Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I keep telling myself to just write and stop worrying about this for the moment, but I’m kind of bumming myself out worrying about whether I want to use first or third person, as well as past or present tense, for my COBB. I think the issue is that some scenes are bound to play out better one way while others would be better served differently. This is not usually a thing I struggle with.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

🥰

This was fun! (Once I stopped putting it off, lol). No pressure tagging (and sorry if I get anyone who’s already done it): @cutestkilla, @mooncello, @artsyunderstudy, @prettygoododds, @drowninginships, @hushed-chorus, @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @youarenevertooold, @ileadacharmedlife, @facewithoutheart, @imagineacoolusername, @ic3-que3n

[kb1301]

How about some painful Shaxx12?

Clutched Close

Shaxx sat in silence, his hands rested on his knees as he gazed over the covered slab beside him, one that hid something he feared to see. Beneath the one-horned helmet was a man grasping with the reality settling in front of him.

He didn’t like to think of it. Of what happened to that person that hid beneath the cover, that same kind of cover they’ve used for Cayde back then. He would wish for it to be unreal, just some wretched fantasy, but even an Ahamkara can’t help the pain he felt.

And so he stood up. One of anger.

And he stepped closer. One of despondence.

And he gazed down at the cover. One of grief.

He lifted it away, to only see the horror awaiting him.

It was Max… Or what was left of him. His face was nearly unrecognizable, his horn dismantled and shattered. The metal was stripped off of him, by some kind of cruelty. His optics were brutally taken off of him, leaving only one to be seen, and the other lost. Any remnant of the blue strip of paint was nowhere to be found. His jaw was but bits of itself now. He was completely mutilated, alongside Spinner’s broken and destroyed self.

To see this, it made Shaxx so distraught. What had happened to his dearest husband? His loving partner? The one person that always aided him away from his duties? He could hear himself sniffle already, but no breach of tears yet came… for he had another emotion to go through.

Anger.

And in his anger did he proceed to thrash around the room. Breaking things with his fists and using his Light to show his fury within. In each scream, in each shout, in each show of power enraged by his emotions, he vowed nothing but death to those that had done this to Max.

He always had control over his own self, but this? To see the one you loved most die and no longer having their beautiful features, all replaced by ruin… How could he not wreak havoc? Rampage over everything?

And in the wake of his destruction did he stop. He saw the impact of his fists, of his boots, of his helmet. The room was broken with the Light, of all three elements that it had. Solar for the helm that butted in excess. Void for the boots that left scars on the floor. Arc for the fists that shocked the lights abound.

But he could see as well that, in his anger, it had shaken the lifeless body of Max from its rest on the slab. He looked back there and rushed to bring him back to his comfort, even if he no longer could feel it. In trying to fix the cover back, in lifting it... Did he see something worse.

The bond clutched close to the core. To the heart. The bonds that Warlocks wore, each having their own symbolisms and meanings of their own. Though Shaxx already knew the one that Max wore. Always had so.

"Shaxx!"

His focus was shifted away from the screens in front of him to see his beloved come close to him. He turned to face the approaching Exo and gave him a quick kiss to the forehead with his own helm.

"Ah, here comes my dearest soldier... How I've missed you!" He gave him a strong hug, enveloping his arms around his waist and lifting him even to allow each other to see eye-to-eye.

"What have you been up to, my Guardian—" Shaxx noticed the flickering holographic symbol on his husband's left upper arm. "What's that I see there, Max?" He made himself sound curious, amused even.

"Oh! This my love, is a representation of my sentimentality. For you." He revealed the symbol of the Crucible to the Handler of the Crucible itself. "You do sometimes say that you are the Crucible itself, and this," He pointed to the hologram. "Represents you, for myself."

Shaxx smiled beneath his helmet, one of warmth and sincerity.

"Near or far, wherever my journeys and adventures take me... Knowing that I have you close means the most to me. Even through the troubling times and the peaceful moments I get, to know you here," He pointed once more to the bond before facing Shaxx with joy clarified through his optics. "Always reminds me of my loyalty, of my love, of my boundless affection for you."

In gradual progression, four things happened. First was Shaxx's realization of the past, of that memory of when he first saw Max wear the bond. He stumbled in his feet as the gravity of it affected him. Second was the helmet he lifted up, revealing the face beneath to no one but Max, and in that same face were an expression of sorrow and grief. Third was him kneeling close to the Exo's mangled face, and looking through the features left that he had practiced seeing over and over and over again.

And the last one was the kiss. He placed his lips on the forehead, just beside where the horn used to be. And he kept it in place, his eyes trying not to swell from the tears that were threatening to burst. The kiss was always done in secret, always in their own home, done in that comforting place they found together.

The Titan stayed there for a moment. Kissing and peppering the broken metal with his own affection, one that would last for longer than anything... Even past Max's death. He'd whisper what final secrets they had together, of everything good and of everything troubling that their relationship went through together.

After a few more minutes, he placed the cover once more over Max's body. He put the one-horned helmet on him once again, and trudged himself away from the room. He had duties to attend to...

And even with such responsibilities, he would always find himself distracted... Always distracted by the thought of the one thing he welcomed to distract him away from it.

[vegetanalysis]

I am introducing my husband to Dragon Ball Z and we’ve finally arrived at the Goku and Vegeta fight. The whole time I’ve had a huge unstoppable grin on my face because it’s been a while since I’ve watched the OG anime, and I’m remembering how completely in love I am with the cocky little feral man that is Saiyan Saga Vegeta.

He’s smirky, playful, captivating, and a sheer joy to watch. I keep looking at him and thinking, you have no idea what horrible and painful and wonderful things are about to happen to you.

Your whole worldview is about to be ground into the dirt. You are going to be broken; you will have everything stripped away from you, and then given back undeservedly in a second chance at life. You’re going to get drunk on power and behave like an utter fool, and you will be humiliated. You’re going to learn the agony of what it means to be loved and to love in return, and the moment you finally come to your senses and realize what it is you truly want to fight for, you are going to kill yourself in sacrifice. You will emerge from the crucible of growth a better man, even a good one.

But every story has a beginning, and when it comes to Vegeta, I can’t help but love him all the way through.

[androgynealienfemme]

"In that decade of butchness diluted and femme reviled, I had two lovers. Well, more than two, but only two who deserved Lover as a title the way Radclyffe Hall called Una Troubridge Wife and Una called Radclyffe (whom she knew as "John") Husband. There were not then and are not now enough words to name what we wanted to do differently, or wanted to do the old fashion way, but queerly, with each other, like John and Una. We were lovers, not wives or husbands, living yet-unnamed relationships that had not fully evolved (though we tried so hard to speed the mired-down process of that evolution).

One lover was a butchette; who can I describe this? A femmey butch, I guess. Remember we didn't talk this way then. Even reading Mary Daly together did not get in the way of our sex life. She was the most opinionated and assertive woman I've ever known, and though she did not fill out her clothes and went shopping the instant the Uniform lost its hegemony, she could lay me on my back more swiftly and skillfully than any woman has since. Though the seeds of my femme sexuality may have lain in abortive Tarzan and Jane scenes, it did not begin to blossom until our games of Sultana and captured princess. My lover oversaw that flowering: My own womanness had frightened me until the night we did Quaaludes, and I arched back off the bed dizzy with the drug and a kind of power I had never relaxed into before, and purred: "I feel like Marilyn Monroe."

To which she replied, hands full of me, "You are Marilyn Monroe."

A truly androgynous dyke could not have said such a thing.

She had committed quite a breach of lesbian-feminist etiquette (as obviously, had I). Marilyn Monroe was a faggot's heroine, not a dyke's. We were not supposed to swoon over or identify with a woman whose femininity was her appeal and then her downfall, though Judy Grahn had already reappropriated Marilyn's thigh bone (by way of a poem) to bash in her enemies' heads: Hubba. Hubba. Hubba. (We didn't know that Grahn, as a butch, was thus privy to a more intimate vision of Marilyn than any self-respecting dyke was supposed to have in those years before it came out that Marilyn had spend the early '50s getting her pussy licked by Lili St. Cyr.)

In celebrating my choice of Marilyn Monroe as spirit guide, my lover allowed my uncomfortable post-girly androgyny to cook away in the crucible of her arms, and to let me reconstitute as a femme woman. It was a very butch thing to do. And it was very brave because she was telling me I had her blessing in stepping off the path of political correctness; she was telling me that the wet truths of sex had our allegiance more fully, more instinctively than the dry truths of lesbian feminism.

I love butch women because no one else would ever have reached into that flannel-clad bundle of inarticulate erotic yearning with a mirror that reflected a sex goddess. I love butch women because no one is quite so deeply affected by femme: I felt my sexual effect for the first time, and grew and grew like Alice in Wonderland drinking her magic potion. I love butch women because it was butch sexual response that gave me my body."

-"Dagger: On Butch Women (Why I Love Butch Women)" by Carol A. Queen, On Butch and Femme: Compiled Readings (I.M. Epstein) (2017)

[dwarf-posting]

Just wanted to say I love your blog so so much. And it’s become one of my quick favs to see on my timeline. I love when you add to a post and I now have a name for the voice I play in my head when I read your reblogs. Which is Chris Edgerly, particularly his role as gobber from how to train your dragon. Continue the dwarf posting!! My husband just got into dwarves and loves when I read your posts out loud with him in the room XD

Och! Such kind words are tha crucible tha’ melts my steely dwarven heart! A dwarf knows no greater honor than ta be spoken of! Thank ye kindly.

On a side note, the idea of somebody “just getting into dwarves” is very funny to me.

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Amara Estancia & The Throne Built on Secrets

As I sit in the twilight of my reign, pen poised over pages that have yet to bear witness to the truth, I am compelled to recount the journey that led me here. It is not for absolution or sympathy, but for the record of history—so that the legacy of my efforts might be understood in their full context.

Born in the stark village of Ashmont, my childhood was defined by a relentless environment that taught me early on about survival and ambition. The austere landscape was both a cradle and a crucible, forging a resolve in me that was as unyielding as the cliffs surrounding my early world. I outgrew Ashmont quickly, my aspirations extending far beyond its confines.

My ambition led me to a forbidden path—a dark pact that promised more than mere survival: it offered a throne. The ancient entity that whispered promises of power was my benefactor and my curse. This pact was my ascension and shackles, providing the means to rise to power but binding me to an eternal game of shadows.

The demise of my husband, the king, marked my true rise to power. It was a calculated act, born of necessity rather than malice. His death was not an act of passion but a strategic move to secure my position and implement my vision for Briarwisp. As queen, I wore the dual veils of benevolence and ruthlessness, each as necessary as the other in the art of governance.

Perhaps the darkest of my deeds was the curse laid upon my daughter, Tijani. It was meant to bind her to my will, to secure my legacy through her. Yet, it was this act that would eventually lead to the unraveling of all I had built. I did not foresee that my granddaughters, shielded from the magical world, would one day return to Briarwisp, their powers awakening to the truth of their heritage.

Imani, Jade, and Jasmine—each a bearer of formidable magic—pieced together the mosaic of secrets and spells that was their legacy. It was their quest for truth that peeled back the layers of my carefully constructed sovereignty, exposing the foundation of darkness upon which it was built.

Now, as I reflect upon my reign, I see the cost of power, the weight of the crown, and the echoes of choices that reverberate through generations. My story is not one of simple villainy but a complex web of necessity, ambition, and the deep, often painful, love for my kingdom and my family.

These writings are not an apology- my life required decisions that many may never forgive. Instead, they are an explanation, a hope that in understanding my motives, the shadows of my actions might be seen as part of a larger narrative of survival and sovereignty in a world that respects only power.

[wrishwrosh]

for the ask game: 5! 30! also for 1 would love to know a little of what was going on in girl!winters’s head either in scene or regular post form

5. what’s something you learned while researching for a fic? for the wac fic i ended up digging into the history of girl’s prep schools in the us, and only a little of it made it concretely into the fic but it ended up majorly affecting the girl!nix characterization. women’s colleges and girl’s schools came up in the general research i was doing into the lesbian cultures of the Great Depression, both for lots-of-women-in-dorms-without-chaperones reasons and for economic reasons. after all in the 30s it became much more difficult for an unmarried woman to finance the independent lifestyle of Living As A Lesbian, and women who still could had family money and/or a highly specialized education, and they were all clustered in expensive private schools together. and then when i was trying to figure out WHICH bonkers interwar poor little rich girl school nix could have gone to i found some schools that took No Boys Allowed to extremes with particular rituals and traditions that basically encouraged girls to practice courtship with one another in a way that was totally school sanctioned and expected. ended up sending girl!nix to miss porter’s school, where they had full on love poetry sending flowers exclusive relationships stepping out and going to prom together type stuff. extremely juicy!!

anyway to wrap no. 1 (girl!winters pov) into this already overlong answer, one of the things i had fun with in this au was playing with the ways dick and nix’s class difference gets intensified when they’re both women. dick as a middle class girl from PA is coming from a space that’s not only pretty traditional and religiously conservative but also one where her only legitimate financial prospect before the war is to either get married and rely on her husband’s wage or to live with her family and rely on her father’s wage. the kind of respectable service work available to women with her education (public high school only, cause why would she go to college?) doesnt pay enough to live alone on and wouldn’t hire an unfeminine woman or one with a bad reputation. independence is not an option. so she grows up around women who navigate these constraints more or less gracefully, and she knows she is different in some fundamental way, but she doesnt know what she can do about it - the possibilities are legitimately not visible to her in any meaningful way - and she just has to live like that, maybe forever, and then the war breaks out! and then there’s nix, who has spent 8+ years in an insane crucible of lesbianism and is getting married not because she wants to or she needs to but because it would be kinda odd not to and who also enlisted because it’s the most freedom she’ll ever get, but nix’s second most freedom and dick’s second most freedom are in different freedom stratospheres, and yet! they’re insane and intense in such complimentary ways that the rest is history. love those dykes

30. have you noticed your style change over time?oh def. for one thing i used to write a lot of comedy! sometimes i think it was actually quite funny and sometimes it was just insane slapstick, but comedy was always my first instinct. i think now i lean more into ambiguity and drama and long weird sentences with no punchline, and i am capable of more fun and elegant prose, but i do miss the Joke Death Drive sometimes.

[xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

👀 ...why not?

Five things that make me unique:

I'm a bit of a jack of all trades artistically. I haven't done it on stage in awhile, but I have formal training in voice, dance, and theatre. There was a time when I wanted to be an actress. I have a decent singing voice. I think this background makes me a better writer.

I have three middle names. One of them is Drusilla.

I was raised without censorship. My parents never discouraged me from consuming any type of media, no matter how graphic.

I used to work in a porn studio.

Babies and animals love me. It's adults that find me prickly.

Three of my favorite memories:

My bachelorette party. My husband and I rented out a rustic riverside mansion via Airbnb for the service, reception, and wedding night. A handful of beetlebabes came from all over the country to celebrate me getting married. We did witchcraft naked in the woods, sang songs to invoke the river spirits, and made a honeyjar filled with sentimental trinkets from everyone present to ensure my husband would love me forever. He's remains my eternal slave.

Tripping acid when I was sixteen with a handful of my friends at some house I don't even remember where. It was snowing outside and beautiful and my friend Carter pulled out her art supplies and told everyone to start at a corner and paint. The finished product was beautiful, I wish I still had a picture of it.

Playing Abigail Williams in The Crucible my senior year of highschool. I beat out Stranger Things' Natalia Dyer for the role. We went to school together, I'm not a fan.

[lonesurvivorao3]

I’m sorry, my loves

Brain worms keep taking me back to this scene, where Hackett is indoctrinated and in the crucible rather than Anderson, and Eris chooses destroy. So I guess we’re going for round two of this, huh?

“That looks awfully painful,” said Eris, tipping his shoulder with her foot as he writhed on the floor.

Looking at her now, the indoctrinated Admiral didn’t doubt she was callous enough to leave him here to what would be a grisly end. “You wouldn’t let your only living parent, your dear old Dad, die, would you?”

She crouched and ripped his dog tags off. “Whilst I have occasionally cared about certain things, this is not one of those times, and you are not one of those things.”

The core was almost at lethal capacity, and with no way up, back, or out, she tapped on her OmniTool.

The blurry video feed finally loaded, showing only her tired husband. “Where’s Odette?”

He grinned. “I left her in the basement playing with some of your Spectre grenades.”

Eris laughed against a sharp sting of tears. The view panned to the chubby, sleeping, barely a-year-old baby with a thick shock of dark hair sleeping in the crook of Kaidan’s elbow.

He knew something was off and reminded her that she was his kind of stupid.

“I tried, I… I’m sorry, my loves.”

[liege-of-the-bees]

Episode 13: The Crucible

M continues their gay little notes

PENELOPE TEACHER ERA

And ofc they're doing a red scare thing, surprised it hasn't happened sooner

Fellas, is it gay to admit you write poetry?

'If you're innocent you have nothing to worry about' KEVIN YOU'RE GAY.

Kevin the cop strikes again

Cheryl is a lavender menace

With the condition of Lesbianism

Cheryl. Talk with your friends. Tell them what's happening

HIRAM IS HIRAM FOREVER

Hiram should also have gay sex tbh

I get that Hiram is possibly trying to be a good person but not with that villain voice

OH THANK GOD CHERYL'S TELLING PEOPLE

EVELYN

Ngl I love her purple outfit

She's dyed her hair as well, this is her villain era

Archie's so stupid (affectionate), he's not gonna know people are manipulating manipulating him

Mr Fieldstone was such a dick for so long but this episode and last he's been just some quirky old dude?

Jughead's gonna get investigated for communism

Betty in her Gossip Girl era

WHEN I SAID ARCHIE'S POETRY THING WAS JUST HSM I DIDN'T REALISE FRANK IS JUST COACH BOLTON

Oh god Archie's gonna think Veronica's a spy no

Oh so the teacher was actually a communist

Jughead+Ethel dealer era

Choni and Clevin lavender marriage era 💜

This is not a Hiram redemption, I don't care what people are saying. He's just being manipulative and is desperate

Toni and Clay have such sibling energy tbh and I really wish that was explored more. Tbh I just wish Clay in general was explored more

John Proctor is an absolute dick. Don't emulate him.

Archie actor era?

Cheryl: 'ME, AND MY TOTALLY STRAIGHT BOYFRIEND'

But I'm a cheerleader reference? Cheryl?

DON'T CALL ARCHIE PROCTOR I HATE THAT

Also them kissing the episode after baiting Betty/Veronica? Bad.

OH FUCK GRUNDY

GET OUT

LEAVE

Even though she isn't grooming Archie, they're still framing it almost like she's the new girl in a High School drama

'It'll be our little secret' EW EW EW

Riverdale writers be like: 'She has a husband! She can't groom kids!'

Are they having all the police stuff take place in the High School because they've demolished the set or something?

Hermione is definitely also having an affair

I actually love Betty as an agony aunt

HERMIONE IS SUCH A MILF

NOT THE RIVERDALE META

It honestly fees like a slap in the face

'Only the first season was good' No the fuck it wasn't

DIPSY DOODLE US

And here's the book burning

[blackberrysummerblog]

Aaaargh I’m going to miss a few people who have been tagging me lately, but thank you @youarenevertooold, @aristocratic-otter, @artsyunderstudy, @wellbelesbian and @prettygoododds for the recent tags! I’ve been struggling a bit—work is bonkers, some not so great things are happening with my husband’s health, blah blah excusescakes. I’m trying to work on my COTTA and my crucible marriage au and they’re both not exactly stalled, but giving me various issues. Speaking of which, I owe a big thank you to @facewithoutheart for looking at part of my au and giving such thoughtful feedback/advice! You’re amazing Christina! 😘.

Here’s a bit of wee!Baz from the intro, since I’m not sure if I’ll use it or keep it in the same place:

I was seven the first time they let me anywhere near Watford again. It was the Summer Solstice. My mother had been headmistress of the school in the mages’ settlement when she died, and the last thing anyone wanted was to go back. Eventually we had to, of course.

“I don’t want to lose you, Fi,” I’d sobbed in the car as we were driven to Watford. I was wiping my nose on my sleeve, much to my father’s distaste. We were all in the backseat of the Pullman, so he sat across from me (the better to glower), arms folded.

My aunt had held her hand up to stop him from correcting me. “You’re not going to lose me, love,” she assured, tugging me close and dabbing at my tears with the handkerchief Father handed her. “I never get matched at these things, and I never will.”

I stopped sniveling momentarily; it hadn’t even occurred to me that Fiona might be paired off in the bonding ritual, but of course she was of age. The world of mages has very little tolerance for an unmatched magician; my father had only been given a grief exception for as long as he had because of my mother’s name and standing. “He will,” I snuffled, pointing. Fiona gently pushed my hand into my lap. It was rude to point. “He’ll bond, and then you’ll leave, Fi.” I burst into tears anew.

“Oh, for—!” my father exclaimed, clearly at the end of his rope.

“Sh, shhh,” Fiona crooned, cuddling me even as she glared daggers in Father’s direction. “I’ll not leave until I know you’re settled and well taken care of, Basil. If your father bonds, it will have to be with someone kind. The Crucible wouldn’t make a match otherwise.”

Have a great rest of the week everyone! Tagging: @facewithoutheart, @fatalfangirl, @artsyunderstudy, @martsonmars, @confused-bi-queer, @aceumbrellaheroes, @cutestkilla, @larkral, @raenestee, @fucking-gay-frogs, @ebbpettier, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @valeffelees, @rimeswithpurple, @ileadacharmedlife, @whogaveyoupermission, @stitchyqueer, @thewholelemon, @asocialpessimist, @supercutedinosaurs, @sillyunicorn, @j-nipper-95, @stardustasincocaine, @captain-aralias, @captain-emrys, @cows4247, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @onepintobean, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @shrekgogurt, @theearlgreymage, @forabeatofadrum, @imagineacoolusername, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @tender-ministrations, @alleycat0306, @shutup-andletme-go, @ninemagicks, @hertragedyconnoisseur, @orange-peony, @yellob and @mostlymaudlin