#in character ◈ ⊰ something a little like decadence ⊱

[morphodae]

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ღ HSR Men Becoming Parents (part 2) ღ

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(≫ Part 1 here)

≫ Note: some children of these characters are biological and some are adopted! :)

✦ CW: some related story spoilers for characters, non-graphic mentions of labor and delivery, pregnancy, fluff, light angst, suggestive in Jing Yuan’s part lol, spoilers for Otto Apocalypse HI3 in Luocha’s part (iykyk), no partner in Sampo’s it’s simply platonic parental fluff, creative liberty for Sunday’s destiny after Penacony, the Trailblazer/MC is Stelle in this

✦ Characters: Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo (platonic), Sunday x Reader all separate (gender-neutral for the most part as anyone can be a “mom” or parent!)

≫ Jing Yuan

“So… (Name) and the General go at it like rabbits? Not surprised, tbh.”

“Eww! I don’t wanna think about that! We already know they can hardly take their hands off each other when we see them together!”

A loud clearing of someone’s throat is heard as Dan Heng appears in the hotel doorway of the two gossiping girls. Arms crossed, expression unamused.

“Speaking so crudely about the General while we’re visiting isn’t exactly proper,” he admonishes, he turns to the pink-haired girl, “and I thought you’d know better than to encourage her behavior, March.”

March 7th waves her hands up frantically in defense. “I’m just as surprised as Stelle is, that’s all!”

As the young man turns to walk away, the thought of someone from his old life — an old friend — becoming a father was a thought that brought the faintest of smiles to Dan Heng’s face.

During your pregnancy, it was easy and lowkey. Your Yuan made sure to keep you out of his affairs as much as possible and you were grateful. Additionally, you had an easy process welcoming your little girl together into the world. The only thing was — your husband might have kept things a bit too secret.

——————

Yanqing is playing another game of chess in the General’s garden, asking question upon question about the newest bundle he saw his master carrying days ago.

“When were you going to tell me, General?! That’s huge news!”

“All in due time,” the white-haired man grins, taking another piece off the game board.

Yanqing was quite ecstatic, if not surprised, to find out his Master had a daughter behind the scenes. He respected you and the General greatly, so a part of the young boy wanted to get stronger so that he could protect the General’s daughter as though she were his little sister.

“Speaking of, there were rumors going around of you and (Name). And during one of our sparring matches, Yunli got embarrassed when I asked her what she heard about you and (Name)…” Yanqing trails off, gold eyes deep in thought. His expression far too innocent. “I mean, General, don’t babies normally just… come from an ancient bird? That’s what I heard, anyways. If that’s the case then maybe Yunli and I can raise one someday as our apprentice and—“

Jing Yuan cuts off his apprentice with a deep rumble of laughter. “—Perhaps that’s something for you to worry about in several decades time.” The General rises from his cushion gracefully, changing the subject on the endearingly naive boy.

“Speaking of Miss Yunli, weren’t you going to gift her a weapon you saw in a shop and then take her to see a new play?”

Yanqing’s eyes widen comically, his face turning a bright shade of vermillion. “Huh?! How do you know that?”

The General merely walks away, a knowing laugh and closed-eyed smile as the only response he offers.

“General? H-hey! General…!”

≫ “Luocha”

The merchant “Luocha” knew better than to stay too long in one place. To form attachments and risk the confrontation of heartbreak of the other party. The contents of his mysterious coffin kept him grounded to his mission that none should know about.

But yet. He met you.

Another merchant, one with a penchant for travel, like him. A Foxian with a natural sense of business relations and ensuring every customer could receive what they asked for; and if they didn’t, then there would also be an offered compromise. In a way, he was the one in the shadows, preferring to keep things simple, business-only, and secretive. You, however, would greet everyone as one would a friend; polite, direct, extroverted, personable. The sun to his moon. Yet, he had to admit: it was a perfect complement in terms of business.

The one day you take off and he’s left to finish up at your shared stall in Aurum Alley, is the day he finds his life changes forever.

Two young children; a girl and a boy, are being cornered by Cloud Knights who insisted they stole and by the looks of things, are being quite aggressive with the two children. The girl, the slightly taller of the two, is huddled protectively over the boy, trying desperately to shield his trembling form. The boy is coughing, clearly unwell and scared.

Usually, Luocha wouldn’t get involved in trivial matters. The galaxy is a vast place, and oftentimes, it can be cruel. Yet the sight of the two children mirrors a distant, hazy memory — and that is enough to get the blond man in action. With graceful steps, he approaches the Knights, assesses the situation, and fishes for information. Supposedly, the girl had been stealing food and medicine for the boy since they had no one but themselves, despite not being related by blood, the girl felt the need to care for him. The boy was born sickly and had inventions that he eagerly showed Luocha when asked, stating that no one wanted to buy them.

Leaning down to the children’s heights, Luocha reimbursed the Knights for any credits lost that the kids were responsible for and dismissed them. Taking a look at the young boy’s inventions brought a smile to his face. “You are quite the genius, you know?” With a beaming smile, the boy stood a little closer to the blond merchant and offered to show him more of his ideas.

“No need. Not right now, at least,” Luocha responds smoothly. “How about I treat the two of you to a proper meal? Then, I can show you the stall that my partner and I run.”

—————

The next day, the little boy’s inventions stood proudly on the display cases; garnering in several customers as Luocha and his partner swore that the two children, who were all alone in the galaxy with no one but each other, would never go hungry or want for shelter ever again.

≫ Sampo Koski

How does a Fool, one who lives for himself, his Aeon, and theatrics, ever find anyone to grab his attention permanently?

The truth is, it’s an extremely rare occurrence and not something Sampo Koski saw happening for himself. Still, one fateful day in the slums of Belebog changed the course of his life forever.

A young boy — a street performer, it seemed — was excited to show any passerby his tricks and jokes. Naturally, Sampo had to see what the fuss was about. With no Silvermane staff or pesky Captain Gepard to ruin his fun, Sampo felt compelled to join the show.

When parts of the crowd seemed bored or uninterested in stopping by, Sampo made sure to draw more attention to the boy’s performance. With a wink and a dramatic bow, the blue-haired man encouraged the kid to continue on; stating that his show was going to be worth it.

With newfound confidence, the boy continued the performance with Sampo; drawing in stray credits until the pair were eventually chased by off-duty Guards into a hidden alleyway.

“Nice going!” He offered the kid a fist bump as they caught their breath hiding from the Guards near some trash bins. “Name’s Sampo Koski, by the way!”

“I’ve never heard of you, mister,” the boy answered earnestly before shyly giving his own name. “Why would you do that for me back there? Grownups never pay me any mind…”

“Well, call it a bit of generosity on my part,” the man grins. “Say, do you have anywhere to go?”

“No, sir. My parents died long ago to the Fragmentum. It’s just me trying to make it in The Underworld.”

“Well, you’re in luck! Because if you come with Sampo, you’re bound to have endless fun and all the credits you can ask for!” He nudged the kid playfully with his elbow. “What do ya say? Wanna get off this ice rock and see the rest of the galaxy?”

The boy eventually nods, eyes sparkling with newfound joy at a chance of finding himself in the vast galaxy and seeing new sights besides Jarilo-VI.

≫ Sunday Oak

A deal between the IPC and the Family left Sunday at the mercy of those above him… those who were always above him. Yet again, he felt he’d never escape the confines as a caged bird. When the Astral Express offer him a place to stay with him, he’s hesitant before his pragmatism reluctantly agrees. Who else would he stay with? Where else could he go? At least with the Express, he’d have a chance at knowing the well-being and whereabouts of Robin from time to time.

When he meets you on board, he’s as dejected as one would expect; shy, moping, and not a single word uttered to you as he quietly adjusts to a room made just for him. He avoids you and the others save for a word or two out of a necessary response.

You didn’t know him well and met him once or twice in Penacony, so it was jarring to see the once confident Oak Family head so… defeated. But, that never stopped you. If anything, you took it as a challenge.

The Express also took you in and you saw them as family. You were going to do the same for Sunday, no matter what.

The Halovian frustrated you many days but you were slowly breaking down his cautious walls, reminding him of his sister, playing her songs for him to hear, and letting him call her on your phone as he pleased. As such, he found himself falling for you. It was a classic case of “you fell first but he fell harder” as March had said in passing. And so, sooner than later, the two of you became romantic. If anything, Sunday saw you as a savior, a soulmate. Despite kicking himself for becoming so attached, you were a delicious sin he couldn’t help but partake in.

When he received the news, he requested to leave at the nearest stop to clear his head. He knew it wasn’t fair to you and he was sure to get an earful from some Express members once he returned, but his mind was swimming with every possibility. Was he ready for a child? Would he be worthy enough to bring them into a cruel, unrelenting galaxy that he once tried to change for the better? Eventually, he returns back and hugs you wordlessly. You reassure him that if he wanted it too (he did, oh Aeons he wanted both you and his child), that things would work out. And yes, Sunday did receive a stern lecture for leaving from Pom-Pom, March, and even Stelle, but the entirety of the crew sat him down for a long, heartfelt talk to assure him that he was family to them now, and they’d be there for the two of you no matter what.

When the day comes for you to give birth, you’re taken to the best galactic doctor Sunday researched. He’s more nervous than you are and he can’t sit still. His wings flutter at every sound of pain you make and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Fourteen system hours later and not one, but two little babies are placed on your chest; each with the tiniest wings sprouting under their ears. A girl and a boy — a subtle reminder of him and Robin.

Only this time, through blurry vision of nonstop tears, Sunday swore he’d never let either one of them succumb to a fate akin to that poor Charmony dove. Your children would have no cages, but instead, boundless freedom.

© morphodae (please do not insert any of my works into artificial intelligence programs or repost my works on any site)

[hotvintagepoll]

Ernest Torrence (Steamboat Bill Jr., Fighting Caravans, The Hunchback of Notre Dame)—Ernest Torrence was, by no means, a "little" guy - he was a quite towering 1.93 m tall - but he most certainly was scrungly. He was often cast as brooding and imposing villains, thanks to his somewhat intimidating physical appearance, where his height and sharp, stern-looking facial features certainly played a part. He started doing silent movies, where he was noted for, among others, his role as Clopin, the leader of the thieves, in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He didn't only portray villains, though. In the Buster Keaton-movie, Steamboat Bill, Jr, he showed off his comedic skills as the father of Buster Keaton's main character (the age difference was merely seventeen years, but what with Keaton's youthful visage, and Torrence looking slightly older than his age, nobody would think "that's a young father right there",) and the two truly shone together, what with Keaton's deadpan slapstick, and Torrence's serious, yet slightly choleric sidekick. Another non-villanous part was the role of Peter the Apostle in The King of Kings (1927,) where he channels the energy that is called "pious yet slightly alarmed." He played in both silent movies and talkies, and managed that transition very well. Unfortunately, he died quite young - at the age of 55, in 1933 - and didn't get much time showing off his talents further in that era. Watching his movies, I often see something sinister... but I always sees something fun, too. A man having the time of his life portraying these roles, villains or not. There is always an aura of delight surrounding him. Charm, charisma, and some serious acting chops. I wish this competition took place a few decades ago (by post perhaps? I'm an old woman.) Then I would have "gone ham" with this. Young and energetic me had such a platonic crush on this man. I loved the way he wasn't traditionally handsome. I loved that large snout of his. The wicked eyebrows. The intelligent yet sinister gaze. I wrote poems about him. I drew his portrait. I had a portrait of him above my bed (which I still own, by have moved a few times since then.) I knew so much about him, his life, and his works back then, but now, even though I love him as much as back then, a lot of information has escaped me with age. Whatever happens, Ernest Torrence will always and forever be the scrungligest of scrungly little big guys for me.

Fats Waller (Stormy Weather)—Submitting fats waller because i looove his little cameo spot in Stormy Weather (1943). He has the best facial expressions and he just seems like a silly fella!

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Ernest Torrence

Fats Waller:

[physalian]

Narrative Framing Devices

This is a long one…

A story need not be told chronologically, nor does it have to be only one layer deep. There’s a ton of different ways to frame your narrative, I’m just picking a couple today, some I thought worked and some I thought didn’t, and my personal favorite.

Most people think of framing devices in terms of time travel stories or fairytales, where it may start in the present or the future and work backwards, giving up the ending before telling how we all got here. Or by chopping up the chronology and letting the audience try to puzzle out the order.

There are also those that break the fourth wall, with the narrator beginning the story directly addressing the audience but never doing so again, or the narrator opening the story telling their own story to a present audience, so we’re the audience behind the fictional audience.

The other obligatory framing device is the time-skip, a la “6 years later” or “8 months later”. I’ve already talked about those. Or the preface/preamble/prologue that may spoil some important event later in the story, or is simply an important moment or montage of moments to catch the reader up on “how did we get here”. Shoutout to Castlevania for the most efficient pilot episode I have ever seen, with a 1 year timeskip.

Also honorable mention to the “A Life in the Day” montage from Magicians, speedrunning decades of a life together between two characters stuck in a Situation, maybe 60 years? Key moments between the two having a whole romance, with a kid and grandkids, over the course of one beautiful bit of soundtrack. One of the best episodes in the show, for a sequence that only lasted a little over 5 minutes.

—

Story within a Story | Princess Bride, "Ember Island Players"

Best example I can think of, specifically the film, which is based on a book that already incepts itself. The movie opens with a regular kid being read the book The Princess Bride by his grandfather, and occasionally cutting between the kid’s reactions and the fantasy story with the actors.

There’s several moments where the grandfather either loses his place and rereads a scene that replays the same dialogue, or skips a scene in the “kissing book” because his grandson gets squirmy, and moments where the grandfather narrates over a couple montages.

Princess Bride is one of those movies that knows exactly what it is and isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It’s self-aware and loudly and proudly sincere, with one of the best revenge arcs ever put to film.

Recap episodes can either be clipshows or get really creative like ATLA, telling the series recap through the medium of a propagandized play about the Avatar's journey, performed by actors of the Fire Nation. The Gaang sits there in vague states of discomfort, horror, or in Toph and Sokka's case, thrilling enjoyment, watching their hardships and heartbreaks played for laughs. That it's the story we know, but also with the added filter of it being enemy propaganda takes what could have been just a clipshow and still told multiple layers of a story with it.

The Fourth-Wall Break | Riordan-verse, Deadpool

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood” defined a generation. It’s one of those fourth wall breaks that opens up the story and never appears again, though occasionally Percy will get slightly self-aware, saying things like “I didn’t know it then, but I’d never come back here”. But for PJO it almost doesn’t count.

Kane Chronicles on the other hand chose a bizarre framing device, having the two leads pretend to host a radio show, or a podcast—something where they were recording themselves and I don’t think it worked very well whenever it popped up and stopped the plot.

Shoutout to Tangled, too, for having a fairytale style fourth-wall break at the end, much like KC, where Flynn reveals that Rapunzel has been listening to him tell their story the entire time. Many fairytale stories open up with the physical book flipping open to the story, like Shrek and Shrek 2, but I don’t think those are translatable to the written medium very well.

The big one, though, is of course Deadpool. Have not seen the second one, and while ‘breaking the fourth wall’ isn’t by itself a framing device, DP & Wolverine absolutely makes it one, fast forwarding and jumbling up the sequence of events to deliver a “how did we get here?” during the opening credits.

Chronology Salad | Memento, Predestination

Have not actually seen Memento but I know the premise, working backwards as the protagonist recovers his memory of “how did we get here?” Predestination is a batshit insane time travel story that I don’t think most people have even heard of and detailing the plot at all is giving spoilers but it is the most “how the fuck did we get here??” movie I have ever seen.

Then you have stories like Twilight that open with “I’ve never given much thought to how I would die” that spoils (kind of) the ending, with the goal of the story not detailing if something bad will happen, but how. Twilight’s prologue reminds me of The Bachelor, where they’ll tease the audience with *shocking* moments completely out of context from later in the season that are way less cool when they actually come to pass (from the one time I watched with relatives out of morbid curiosity).

The point of these chronological mixups is how all the random puzzle pieces fit together, despite essentially spoiling themselves constantly, they’re so random, so out of place, meant to keep you constantly guessing until the big reveal of the picture on the box—and are extremely tricky to do well without completely losing your audience. You’d have to have a very thorough outline to not confuse yourself while trying to write it.

Honorary mention here for Inception, one of my favorite sci-fi movies, because the plot is crazy, but still told chronologically, just across different dream levels. However, the movie does open with the ending scene (though you don’t know that on your first watch). And Tenet, but I don’t know anyone who likes or cares about that movie.

Dual Timelines | Outlander

There are others I just cannot think of them at this moment. Dual timelines tell two stories simultaneously across two different eras, either decades apart or mere hours, with some relation between the two. Sometimes one timeline’s protagonist is the ancestor of the present timeline, for example.

Dual Timelines happen in sequential order, making them distinct from a flashback arc (more below) essentially two chronological plots running in tandem squished into the same book, episode, or film. They carry equal weight and try not to overshadow each other in flair or importance.

In Outlander, Protagonist Claire is already a time traveler, in a time travel story whose rules are “whatever happened, happened, and you end up causing whatever you tried to prevent”. Season 2 opens with her returning to the present, leaving the entire rest of the season with a foreboding sense of dread, wondering what will get her back to that moment.

Season 3 dangles the carrot on the stick, randomly cutting between Claire in the 60s and trying to move on with her life for… I think 20 years, while Jaime, her love interest from the past, just keeps getting kicked while he’s down. It takes forever to get these two back on screen together. And the dual timelines continue taking up screen time when Claire and Jaime’s adult daughter also eventually makes a trip to the past. Points off for being blatantly manipulative storytelling with its cliffhangers, but season 1 is still worth the watch.

Flashbacks, Flash-Forwards, and Flash-Sideways | Lost

This show’s earlier seasons were heavily framed with this device. In The first 3 seasons (up to the last episode) the framing device was exclusively flashbacks, focusing on one of the main 13 heroes for an episode, particularly in season 1.

They didn’t always answer “how did we get here” but told some story relevant to the character in the present, either a challenge they had to face or parallel relationship drama or ghosts come back to haunt them. Usually, these little flashbacks were told in sequential order, but they could hop months or years ahead at a time depending on the episode.

The flash-forwards began in season 4 and closed the gap between the “Oceanic 6” escaping the island and all the missing time while they were gone, before the infamous “We have to go back” line.

The show also had flash-sideways, which featured the main cast, many of whom had been dead for a few seasons, reprising their roles to show what could have been their lives if they never crashed. To… mixed reception.

The show also also had a time-traveling character who in-universe experienced flashes of the future and got mentally temporally displaced between two timelines for a hot minute.

Lost was… a show that demanded a dedicated following. I still love it.

Flashback Arcs | My own personal soapbox

This right here is the whole reason for this post. First you have flashback episodes and I can name a lot of those—ATLA has a couple, “The Storm” & “The Avatar and the Firelord” but both are technically “stories within a story” with characters either around a campfire telling it or reading about it. The alternate timeline takes up a majority of the runtime, only occasionally cutting back to the present characters for a reaction.

In TFP there’s an offbeat flashback episode “Out of the Past”, framed, again, as a character telling this backstory stuff to another character. Many, many vampire stories will have flashbacks to some degree, since their characters live for so long. Vampire Diaries, especially in the earlier seasons, had dozens of them filling in all the blanks back during the Civil War when the two leads, Stefan and Damon, were competing for the affections of the main villain, all leading up to how they were turned, and how she allegedly died. Once the Originals were introduced, the show then had flashbacks to a thousand years ago, when they were human, and various eras in between.

True flashback episodes don’t waste precious minutes setting up a framing device, they just dump the audience in an alternate timeline and let them figure it out on their own that something isn’t right.

But none of that comes close to the full-on Flashback Arc. I. Love. This. Trope.

I actually first saw it when Arrow was good in its earliest seasons, cutting fairly equally between a present-day Oliver back home and starting his hero journey, and him learning combat back in the past, over several episodes like a series within the series.

What you end up with is a happy medium between a full dual timeline and a random grab-bag of flashbacks as they become necessary to the plot. A flashback arc relies entirely on the existence of the A-plot to make sense, as opposed to a dual timeline where it’s essentially two self-sufficient stories rolled into one big narrative. This arc is substantially shorter than the rest of the plot, cutting the story it’s telling down to the absolute need-to-know moments and cutting all transitions between the two. These arcs tend to cover weeks, at minimum, and decades of a long life at most.

I think they're best implimented after the first book, film, or season. Not something you want to throw at your audience who barely knows or cares about these characters, so if you're stuck with ideas for a sequel, consider the Flashback Arc.

My favorite thing that I have ever written (sans ENNS) was for my sci-fi WIP, a C-plot flashback arc in 13 parts. They started out as in-universe nightmares to give credibility to when these flasbacks started occuring, framed around the character's reaction to the scene, but then took off independently to avoid redundancy.

This arc covered his time as a POW, telling the reader how he came to be the living weapon he was, and the first detail it opened with was the reveal that he wasn’t the only one of his kind, he’d lied and shouldered the blame of every atrocity to protect the others, as their numbers dwindled and it all fell into place. A truth he wouldn't tell with a gun to his head.

Because you already knew he lived, because he’s right there in the present A-plot, the arc wasn’t telling you if he’d survive the war, but what he’d do to survive, and how it all fell apart. Because it was framed up with the existing narrative, I had a lot more leeway in omitting details and dropping the reader weeks or months ahead as opposed to this being a completely fresh story with new characters. You knew immediately based on the tone that this POV was the C-plot flashback POV, and you knew the only person who could narrate it was my poor character.

Over 13 POVS, 34k words (of a total whopping 202k), I told a whole love story, established and killed off 10 characters, and gave heaps of worldbuilding lore and exposition to fill in all the blanks in the present and answer questions that this character would never, and revealed just how much he lied about and why.

All of this tied in with the A-plot, staggering the physical placement of POVS within the book to hit at the right moments tonally and as the character’s condition kept deteriorating because he refused to talk about What Happened. His reason was that he’d done all of this and suffered so much to keep their legacies pure. If he gave it up now, he would have done all this for nothing.

And this was some heavy shit. There was murder, suicide, death by giant alien super robots fond of ripping people apart, assault, mercy killing, torture, gaslighting, and psychological horror. One of my magic systems let magicians regrow limbs alchemically, which meant they could endure a shit ton of pain and just get reset to do it all over again.

It was a lot.

But because it was just in flashbacks, I gave you just enough dark shit before cutting back to something marginally lighter, not just one long slog of misery. There was also the unknown of how quickly it would end. The book would end when you hit the last page, but you had no idea which flashback POV would be the last.

And also.

I got to flex my writing skills to the fullest, writing this character’s flashback POV in a completely different tone and style to make it that much more distinct from the rest of the present book.

ENNS’ sequel is very much under construction, but the one thing already polished is a flashback episode packed into one chapter for one of my characters. It’s perfectly knife-twisty and I can't wait for people to read it.

—

There’s dozens of framing devices out there. Most important thing, I think, is not sacrificing audience understanding for the sake of something ‘cool’. Doesn’t matter how amazing the story is if your audience gets completely lost and confused trying to keep up with what’s going on.

If you'd like to check out my book, Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is available now!

[justacatiguess]

Wandering the Broken Halls of Thedas - A Love Letter (And a Plea) to Bioware

In Trespasser, we visit the Library of the Elvhen, and through the fragmented narrative of the Archivist, we learn of the last moments of the elves trapped within its walls when Solas created the Veil.

The library, a culmination of all Elvhen knowledge in Thedas, stands shattered—both in its narrative and its architectural form. It serves as a fitting metaphor for what we, as players, now face: a world of Dragon Age where the vast and intricate stories we've carefully crafted over a decade are reduced to small "cameos and one liners," discarded for the sake of larger, overarching narratives.

For over ten years, we, the players, have been carefully building our worlds of Thedas. We met characters we loved, hated, and everything in between. We explored every possible story, every avenue, adding these to our own personal collections, our own "libraries."

Each game rewarded our effort by showing us how our choices shaped the world. Thedas felt alive, vibrant, an entity we could nurture, change, and influence in our own ways.

But now, we are told that Veilguard will focus on Rook’s experience, Rook’s choices. Narrative choices from past games will not move forward. We, the curators of this library, are now reduced to passive observers. Where is our agency in deciding which books to place on the shelves?

Instead of allowing us to remain as caretakers of Thedas, where its complex web of stories once felt like our own, Veilguard binds us to a single viewpoint—that of Rook. Whether we walk the narrow alleys of Minrathous or traverse the shifting forest of Arlathan, our story has been set, reducing what was once a vibrant, multi-dimensional world to something far more limited. The rich colors of experience, the vast tapestry of choices and connections —all has been spun into a single, faded thread.

The Dragon Age series grew over time to nurture large scale choices and consequences, where even the smallest actions reverberated throughout the world and left their mark - sometimes in small poignant ways, sometimes in large broad strokes.

With the new approach in Veilguard, that subtlety has been stripped away. The past friendships we’ve forged, the enemies we've faced, the relationships we’ve nurtured—now all seem distant and irrelevant, with little hope of reconnecting to them in any meaningful way.

It feels like we are living in a world of Tranquils—past characters and events disconnected from the meaning, purpose, and depth that once defined their journeys.

It took Solas a thousand years to wake up to the consequences of his actions. I hope the team at Bioware wakes up a little sooner.

Dragon Age has always been strong because of its stories—stories that grow by building on the past, reusing, alluding, and expanding. Great myths and epic tales thrive on subtle connections, on the echoes of previous choices that ripple through time. By dissecting these stories down to only the most obvious threads, so much is lost.

We now wander the broken halls of a once-great library, its volumes scattered, its knowledge fractured. What was whole is now lost to us—because of the vision of one. And yet we wait and hope that one day the library can be rebuilt.

[agerefandomstuff]

little soldier boy???

I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!

Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?

Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.

(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)

Word count: 3175

Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.

Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.

“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”

Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.

...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.

It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.

“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.

Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.

Or a few women.

Aged-like-wine women.

Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.

He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.

“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”

The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.

Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”

The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”

His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!

“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.

“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!

“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”

“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.

Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!

He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.

He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.

The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.

“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.

Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.

“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?

“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.

Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.

“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.

“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”

“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.

“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”

“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”

“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”

“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.

“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”

“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”

Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.

“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.

“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.

The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.

Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?

So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?

Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.

Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”

Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”

Ben: “I don’t like commies.”

Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”

Ben: “He’s red.”

Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”

Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”

Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”

—

Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”

Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”

Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”

Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”

Ben: “I dunno.”

Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”

Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”

Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”

Butcher: “Boys.”

Hughie: “Sorry..”

Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”

Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.

Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.

[grendil2]

Oh and by the way “sex kitten programming” is a fucked up techie term dropped by multiple people. I didn’t make it up or something.

It started with posts from anons claiming to have worked in tech but were inexplicably pushed out. These were posts from now long-eradicated forums and later discords. But discords are constantly eradicated to prevent cohesion among white Christians or the construction of archives and the spreading of knowledge, obviously.

Anyway “Sex kitten programming” (🤮) as a term probably no longer gets used because it’s been mutated into something else, or perhaps it got lumped in with a more generalized term. Maybe it’s just “programming” now, since there are now so many kinds. But one thing everyone remembers is that the term was sort of used a bit by people, and would have been swiftly forgotten, but then every Fed in the fucking world started using it suddenly.

Feds actually use the term from time to time, to this day, as their “grain of truth” in an otherwise lie-filled disinformation posts. To give the lies more validity. Or something? Obviously because the term is so icky, one can’t help but be driven by one’s own cruelty and ignorance into thinking the guy who used the term (me lol) made it up himself and is possibly some sort of creepy psycho? So maybe that’s the purpose of using it so often. But no, it is (or was) a real, actual term.

It basically means using content recommendations to push little white girls into increasingly perverted sexual stuff until they leave the gene pool. Yes they do incel-programming type stuff to white girls, and starting as early as they get a phone and the camera sees their white skin. The goal is, naturally, to “cut off the children of the goyim” as the Skeksis have been instructed to do by God.

The content, well curated for a decade (by now I assume) and driven by psychology and AI, gradually warps the child’s perception of men and the world. They go especially hard on this during puberty. Content is gradually introduced into the feed. News stories, sob stories, historical villains, cartoon Characters. All made up, all designed to leverage a white Girl’s perception of men, until she’s a childless incel.

You’ve met white girl victims of this everywhere, and few are unscathed, really only golem freemartin white girls escape it. (The AI flags allies.)

The content gradually lowers the innocent girl into an utterly psychotic world view, which is often seen and accepted as a joke in their teenage years, but then grows all too real as they grow up. Their personality is permanently shifted by it against their will or ability to remember how it all started. This is how it works really, time and exposure.

In the face of their curated, warped reality they either become fujoshis longing for normal white kindness (warped into homosexuality) or adapt to the false world pragmatically and become whores. Spiritually hurting themselves. Onlyfans and dancing for old white boomers and brown men (metrics show that this is the case.) This path is very, very, bitterly common. More common than you might think. This is also the most common type of corruption that leads them to racemix. I should clarify that I hate this world and I want God to save the little white mice but he just doesn’t seem to care.

There’s also the third option, rage against the false world and become vicious radfems (this is where their hatred truly comes from), who are also often TERFs and would be wife material if they understood the depth and complexity of what the Skeksis have inflicted on them. I say wife material because in the face of this inescapable process, the radfem path is the most righteous by a mile. If real men really acted like they did in their false world, radfems would be the last white women with Christian values. That’s just true!!!! Also they’re the only ones who seem to hate evil.

Anyway Zuckerberg started Facebook for pervy shit, do you really think that the people who wanted to use phones to brainwash people wouldn’t start by being creeps? Do you really think it never occurred to them that they could use it to brainwash white girls into becoming sex slaves? (Or at least spiritually destroyed and afraid to reproduce? Or afraid of any relationship?) There are Skeksis-directed big-budget 80s movies with this plot line, they were excited about it! They still are! Surely the process is improving!

No wonder the feds freaked out. The older supervisor probably saw all the posts about it: “Hey I recognize that term, that’s what we used to call it back in my day! Quick, spread the term around next to false information to discredit it! Hurry!”

[canisalbus]

✦ Freshly ordained ✦

[navree]

"rhaenys could have ended the war by dracarysing all the greens right there" yes because a distant relation to the throne deciding to barbecue an anointed and publicly positively hailed king and his entire family who is well loved within the city and in multiple other parts of the country for the sake of the succession of a far-away princess no one was ever on board with who hasn't been seen by the populace in literal years, her psycho husband, her three obvious bastards, and two toddlers from the psycho husband would go over super well with westeros and especially in king's landing where scores of the still-cheering population were killed for no reason by that same dragon who would do the barbecuing, because when targaryens act unilaterally without thinking of how the people would react there's never any problem, which is why the storming of the dragonpit and robert's rebellion were actually just collective delusions dreamed up by readers who hate rhaenyra and not key parts of the story and house targaryen's history that directly contributed to their demise and are intrinsic to the plot

truly team black stans are made up of only the most genius and media literate amongst us

[gracelesstars]

"Back when you first came into my life, I recalled a place that I knew as a child A special place One that I held close to my heart Won’t you lead me in a dance down this winding road where light and shadow entwine to take hold of the thoughts of the one left far behind? Know that, sometimes, I want to turn around and see the things that I’ve passed on the journey, but know with love on my side, with courage and pride, I’ll fight I will carry on"

R.I.P. Akira Toriyama

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character

there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox

this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

I do think Withers has a really subtle background character arc in bg3. Because at the start it is really clear he doesn't want to be here and he's being forced to clean up his mess by Helm and probably Ao. He doesn't really care either. Everything ends so nothing really matters, he'd like to go back to his paperwork now please.

Except he's stuck babysitting a bunch of traumatized dumbasses as they stumble into dealing with the most recent bad idea of his three fuck-up disappointments. So he brings them back when they die for a pittance, lets them pay for some vengeful ghosts to come back as flesh and blood to wreak bloody vengeance on the Absolute, and starts to... comment, on what's going on, as he follows them on their adventure.

Next thing you know Withers is like, doing things unprompted. He refuses to bring back Alfira (or Quil) but that's an act of compassion, keeping the poor girl from the Urge and letting her rest, his actual duty as a god of death. He tells Arabella to follow her destiny and does that thing to make her grief go away which honestly freaks me out but seems to be him trying to help her. He shows up at Moonrise and prompts us to consider why the Dead Three would want a bunch of soulless illithids that would give them no power, getting us to think of the big picture.

And by the end (especially if you do a resist!Durge playthrough) Withers is actively interfering and seems genuinely invested! He brings Durge back from the dead, free of their father! He encourages us before the final fight with the Netherbrain! He's real fucking smug that the Dead Three lost when he never seemed to care about the destruction they caused before! He throws a reunion party and many of his lines are genuinely touching or kind! Especially if a companion died permanently! He has tea with Gale's mom and Tara! He's like, socializing and shit! Yes, everything is temporary and we all die, but there's great beauty in fighting for that precious time and living it to the fullest!

Basically Wither's character arc is this meme, all because Helm made him go outside and touch grass.

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads / storygraph

The Pomegranate Gate

start of a trilogy set in a high fantasy version of Spain 1942, where Jewish people are being forced to either convert to Christianity or leave

follows a young woman who, when her family are being driven out of the country, stumbles through a pomegranate grove on the full moon and finds herself in another world with two Maziks (mythical magical people) living in a ruined castle

and a young man who saw Toba disappear, who’s left in the company of two old women, trying to figure out what happened to her, and why he dreams of the Mazik and their world

multiple worlds, dreamrealms, politics, learning magic, m/m

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Now that I've finished dungeon meshi I have to say, while I understand the disappointment with fandom's constant obsession with shipping two dudes in fandom typical ways and ignoring the women/men that don't fit a certain mold and basically ignoring the entire rest of the story...

People acting so indignant that people would do gay or even straight shipping, because this manga is such a super women-led yuri show that's all about the power of Marcille's all-consuming love for Falin, are absolutely fucking bonkers and have lost the plot.

That is not to say that these shippers are not insane or can't be annoying in the typical ways that they are, or that Marcille/Falin aren't the most shippable pairing and just about the closest you're gonna get to something romantic in Dungeon Meshi (it's a platonic ass story and I love that), or that it wouldn't be nice for the fandom around something to stay mostly devoted to the closest to a canon pairing most shippable F/F ship. It would. But like. I don't know I'm kind of upset by that attitude now

And my intention is not to be super negative about Marcille/Falin fans, because they are certainly not all like this, it's just. WHOO! That is just so not remotely what Dungeon Meshi is about to a degree I still wasn't prepared for despite being aptly warned.

[solradguy]

Ok, about 230 words of LtA translated tonight. There was a paragraph with a giant complicated sentence that slowed me down a bit. Better than no progress at all though!

Bernard was introduced in what I translated tonight. I saw on the wiki that it seems he's generally referred to as Ky's butler, but I decided to render the word 「執事」 as "steward" instead because he does more than just cleans Ky's house and bring him tea biscuits lol

Bernard manages crime syndicate reports, compiles summaries of them, and works as an analyst for Ky at the former Holy Order HQ in Paris, too. That's way above a standard "butler," imo. It seems like the word 「家令」 more generally means what we think of a butler as in English anyway.

LtA hasn't referred to Bernard with「家令」 at all, but if Norimitsu uses that or「バトラー」to refer to his job later I'll change it.

[brutalmasks]

where do you carry your pain?

your heart.

you have loved and been hurt. your heart is tired, but cannot grow calloused...

tagged by: @divingdownthehole

tagging: @volegne, @warled, @question-marked, @cxpperhead, and anyone else who might like to take this quiz!

[bitterseaproduction]

Just saw Joker described as a '2nd year' in the P5 Tactica information, which is gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah--

I swear, for a series with a message of moving forward, Persona (see: Atlus) sure loves to avoid moving forward. Never mind complaints about more P5 content -- I'm here for side games and returning character storylines -- they are keeping the Phantom Thieves stuck in a Peter Pan state.

Where is that willingness to move forward that came with the P4 Arena games? For the P3 and P4 kids? Man, just the P4G epilogue alone took us as far as Strikers did timeline-wise.

And speaking of Strikers, the sole actual sequel to P5? Evading or hiding half of the characters we'd be love to revisit, and generally dodging Royal's entire existence? Woof.