#top stories herald today

[into-september]

"Destruction" is the worst episode of Miraculous Ladybug

Oh hey guys, remember way back in April or something when I said I was doing this? Well, the one year anniversary of its premiere is a suitable time to post this, particularly since yesterday saw the airing of the last piece of canon to come out in a while, which happened to be set immediately after these events.

With the always obligatory reminder in place that I generally think that “Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir” is in fact a good TV show whose appeal potentially reaches beyond its merchandise-mandated target group, it has an unflattering pattern of introducing the juiciest story threads and then just… do nothing about them.

The topic of today’s sermon isn't in isolation the worst offender. But it is thanks to this that the worst offender happens at all, so I'm not gonna be nice about it.

Scroll past to skip the negativity.

So, “Destruction”, possibly the most eagerly awaited episodes of out S5 if you don’t count all the false advertisement that was “Revelation”. I remember finding this episode uncharacteristically charmless for this show when I first watched it. They've been onto heavy topics before, but those episodes still had that je ne sais quoi that gives this show such heart. But re-watching "Destruction" I found it lacking already from the first scene, and felt it only in glimpses. It's just not fun.

The episode is also poorly paced, no way around it. It is inexplicably a flashback to two episodes ago which is not evident from the start. More than half the runtime technically consists of Marinette and Alya having a sleepover. The battle and its game-changing outcome is over at 12 minutes into the episode, which is barely past the halfway point. After that, we spend five minutes - a quarter of the episode's full runtime - on a flashback re-playing the same battle but now with verbal exposition explaining Marinette's clever plan. Mind that the confrontation between Marinette and Gabriel lasts for all of seven minutes, meaning that the flashback is nearing the length of the battle itself.

To top it of, it's bogged down with lengthy exchange between Gabriel and the kwamis just to make clear that the haters on the twitter were totally wrong when they bitched about Orikko being OP because actually its powers were something else than we established last season. Here's a bonus plot hole which has nothing to do with everything else I'm going to nag about: Orikko allegedly can't give out the powers of time-travel because no kwami can replicate another kwami's powers. Except for Nooroo and Duusu, I guess, who have done so on several occasions. One of the more remarkable being the episode which first heralded the event that "Destruction" set in motion: "Timetagger".

And who can forget that this was the second time in three episodes where Ladybug and Cat Noir had Monarch at their mercy but spent so much time giving triumphant speeches that he gets away.

Or that that in fact was the second time on the same night.

But while those things certainly make the episode poor, they are not what makes it the worst.

What makes this episode the worst isn't its technical failures, but about the way it leaves its feces all over the themes and the character arcs it seemed like the show had been building up until this point. Moreover: in the role it plays in S5 and the Agreste storyline, and how the show's refusal to touch it again creates a black hole in the season at large, and arguably in the show as a whole.

I. THE INESCAPABLE CONTEXT OF WHAT CAME BEFORE IT

The art of telling a story is the art of highlighting what matters and leaving out what doesn’t. In a well-crafted story, no matter the medium, no detail is insignificant. Every word is carefully chosen, every line or hue made with intention. The curtains aren’t blue just because, and Miraculous Ladybug has made too many meta jokes to hide behind the claim that it’s just a silly rom-com for kids. It has trained its older audience into looking for context and connections; after “Mr. Pigeon 72”, you can’t insist that nothing that happened earlier in this show matters for what happens later. Titles matter a lot in a show where episodes are titled after the villain-of-the-week who usually is the thematic mirror to what our heroes are going through.

“Destruction” is the fourth episode somehow named after Adrien, and the third somehow named after Plagg. You bet this matters.

As some might know, "Kuro Neko" is not my favourite episode. That's not to say I don't like it! It's cute! It's playing a really interesting scenario! We get Plagg hanging out at chez Marinette! But to enjoy it, I have to willfully ignore the storytelling incompetence it flagrantly displays. Because the moment you peek beneath the surface of the events happening to consider theme, motifs, and narrative parallels, it's just

"Kuro Neko" is the second episode that is named after Cat Noir. The first one was "Cat Blanc". There is a thematic connection between the two; not a very clear one and probably not an intentional one, but all the same: both episodes are about an alternative to Cat Noir. One is the result of his father's violence; the other is Adrien's own attempt to become more like the person he presents around his father. They also both show us Plagg and Adrien negotiation Adrien's relationship to Ladybug, and how Ladybug and Cat Noir negotiate that same thing.

"Cat Blanc", for all its apocalyptic visions, starts and ends with hope. It starts with Marinette’s hope at confessing to Adrien, to Adrien’s hope in finally knowing Ladybug’s identity and knowing her like he’s yearned for for three seasons. Those hopes lead to disaster, but the episode ends with Ladybug finding Cat Noir on the Montparnasse Tower, where he is singing his lullaby about the kitty being "all alone without his Lady". As is fitting, Marinette breaks the pattern: after having just witnessed a world turned to destruction because the two of them loved each other, she leans her head on his shoulder in perhaps the most romantic gesture she's ever given him.

"Kuro Neko", in contrast, starts with Adrien resigning the job when he realises that Ladybug no longer needs him and that makes him feel bad. It ends with him coming back and verbally accepting that Ladybug doesn't owe him any exclusive treatment; he isn't her unique partner, just one of many. Where the final scene of "Cat Blanc" seemed to confirm that Ladybug is indeed the answer to Adrien's solitude, the final scene of "Kuro Neko" and its continuation in the first scene in "Risk" both make clear that the opposite is now status: Adrien has to accept the painful fact that as much as Ladybug might be the most important person in his life, Cat Noir does not hold a similar space in Ladybug's.

(The end of “Strike Back” of course claims to remedy this, but those words don’t ring very true when to Marinette’s knowledge, nothing of what went wrong today had anything to do with her keeping secrets from Cat Noir. More damning: Marinette never follows up on her purported regret. In all of S5, she never once sits down to share all those secrets with Cat Noir. Status from "Kuro Neko" still stands, and Adrien is fine with that now. This has nothing to do with the many problems “Destruction” creates, but talking about “Kuro Neko” by necessity means talking about how it wasn’t fixed even if they put the words in Marinette’s mouth. And now back to our scheduled programming)

"Cat Blanc" and "Kuro Neko" by their very existence bring up a thorny topic: That Adrien being Cat Noir isn't wholly unproblematic, and that both Adrien as an individual and Ladybug as the Guardian might have legitimate reasons to question that choice. This has always been obvious to the viewer who knows Hawkmoth’s identity, but the show itself eventually starts calling attention to that from an entirely different angle - namely that of his powers.

Lest we forget: The first episode of S4 that aired wasn't the first episode chronologically: It was "Furious Fu", wherein we learn that The Order of the Guardians has it out for Plagg specifically, and where Ladybug's status as The Guardian is almost revoked on the grounds that she's letting him run around unsupervised. This question of Plagg's whereabouts comes up again in the only episode that is named after Adrien sans Plagg: "Ephemeral", a re-play of “Cat Blanc” except not good. This whole subplot is quickly forgotten, though it being the only one of Su-Han's complaints that weren't about him being a boomer, it's also worth remember that "Destruction" technically happens a couple of hours after he made his last appearance. One might expect that his one consistent lesson would be important enough to echo a bit in the episode where it’s proven to be justified.

"Destruction", as not only one very early episode of the season promising to finally bring about some significant and not the least permanent changes to their lives, but indeed an episode happening on the same night as Ladybug's declaration of regret and Cat Noir's renewed declaration to be her partner, would by its title and its topic seem like the obvious place to finally resolve what "Cat Blanc" and "Kuro Neko" both asked us to question: The existential terror of Plagg's powers, why it is that Adrien is uniquely chosen to temper them at Ladybug’s side, and how Adrien feels about being the one to carry that responsibility.

Yeah. Well.

II. ADRIEN'S PRESENCE IN "DESTRUCTION"

Where "Kuro Neko" and "Cat Blanc" place significant focus on Adrien Agreste in his civillian life, in "Destruction" he appears on screen for a total of 25 seconds - most of which are another flashback to a previous episode, and whose purpose is to highlight Gabriel's hurt from the cataclysm, not Adrien's thoughts about what is happening.

Cat Noir's presence is also marginal. Three minutes of screentime pass from his first appearance until the battle is over. Said battle is the turning point in the war between the heroes and Monarch, thanks to neither Ladybug's powers nor Monarch and all the kwamis, but Monarch using Cat Noir's powers for an impulsive act of self-mutilation. Cat Noir is distraught over this, turning desperate when Monarch first start toying with the idea and being near tears after he carries it out.

I'll get back to the impact of this event, but for now I'll point out that the aftermath is brief: After Monarch escapes, our heroes have this exchange:

LB: We had him, we almost had him! The kwamis were safe, they were right here! CN: I cataclysmed him! I can't believe this, I just cataclysmed someone! Granted it was Monarch, but - there was a real person behind that mask, and it must have hurt him terribly! Milady, you gotta fix this! LB: Cat Noir, Monarch just ran away with my lucky charm! Without it, I can't fix anything. I can't call on my powers and undo the effect of the cataclysm. There's nothing I can do...

We then cut to the slumber party, where Marinette tells Alya that she and Cat Noir "split up" immediately after, and Alya comforts her. From this point in the episode, Cat Noir and Adrien only appear in flashbacks. First a fifty-second flashback wherein Marinette sets up her convoluted plans, then a few seconds of him moving his statue in the wax museum before Monarch appears.

In the episode that more than anything should thematise Adrien, Plagg's powers, and his relationship to his father, Adrien is on screen for a whooping four minutes and twenty seconds.

And because I am that devoted to proving my point, I went and timed all of Alya's on-and-off appearances, which clocked in at a total of five minutes and six seconds.

Alya is of course core to the slumber party which frames the setting of the entire episodes. Moreover, it is with Alya that the emotional arc of the episode ends: it starts with Marinette tormenting hersef watching a Ladyblog report about Monarch's recent win, for which Alya chastises her. The last scene (before Gabriel pulverises the miraculous) has Alya reassure Marinette that she will get the kwamis back. When she regrets her lack of superpowers, Marinette in turn reassures her that Alyas true superpower is being her friend. The journey of the episode was for Marinette to stop blaming herself for messing up, and learning to rely on Alya's support in the new turn the war has taken.

...

IN THE EPISODE WHERE ADRIEN KILLS HIS FATHER.

III. SIR NOT-APPEARING-IN-THIS-FILM

In the episode where Gabriel commits suicide on his son's miraculous, here are some things that got more screentime than the son forced into using his only source of liberation to kill his father:

Flashbacks to past events (four minutes and fourty-five seconds)

Alya (five minutes six seconds)

The kwamis (six minutes and nine seconds)

Bet you can't guess which one is the only kwami who doesn't appear in this episode!

...okay, and Duusu, but you get the point. In the episode detonating the nuke that is the gruesome potential of Plagg's powers, and the potential damage Adrien might deal with them, Plagg never appears on screen.

In the episode highlighting the presence of the kwamis and their importance to their holders, the kwami whose presence is the most thematically tied to his holder's character arc is completely absent.

In the episode irreparably going into the only kwami whose powers is straight up murder, the kwami who The Guardians have singled out specifically as particularly dangerous, the kwami whose irresponsible nature has previously caused problems both to Adrien privately and Cat Noir professionally, said kwami is never even mentioned.

It's almost as if we're not supposed to remember that it is because of his presence that this whole tragedy was possible.

IV. THE EXISTENCE-DEFINING HORROR OF A CATACLYSM GONE WRONG

And ain’t that a funny one, when the gruesome potential in Plagg’s powers was the driving factor in Adrien’s first true crisis as a hero?

Marinette faced her moment in "Origins", where she gave up on her miraculous after the first disastrous attempt. She knows that she is the only one who can do something about the situation, but refuses out of her own lacking courage. She only becomes Ladybug of her own choice when she realises that she can save Alya's life. After this, Marinette never again questioned her place. She would grieve the burden on occasion, but she never once thought anyone else could do better.

Adrien, as we all know, was the polar opposite: he jumped right into it without reading the manual, had to have Ladybug pick up the pieces after a rash cataclysm, and never doubted his calling again until he realised what Plagg’s powers could do when used on a living being.

The NYC special has Adrien quit for reasons that had nothing to do with being unsatisfied with Ladybug's HR policies. It is in part because he effed up his duty as Paris' substitute guardian, but it's certainly also because of the recent horror he just witnessed: his hand forced by someone else nearly killed Ladybug, and killed Uncanny Valley instead as she stepped between them. Adrien just saw a mother weeping over her daughter's corpse, and how only the lucky presence of Ladybug's powers could undo the damage caused by his, unintentional thought it might have been. Adrien would of course never kill anyone on purpose, but Uncanny Valley’s temporary malfunction was a brutal display of what would happen if he stumbled the wrong direction with the gun loaded. Ladybug might have the duty to protect Paris, but Cat Noir has the duty to not to disintegrate people on touch.

The show never before discussed the weight of this burden in Adrien’s presence. “Cat Blanc” did it from Marinette’s side, but this never was a consistent story thread, only briefly brought up as her remembering why his knowing her identity is a bad idea. The sabbatical in “Kuro Neko” has nothing to do with Plagg or with Adrien’s sense of duty, and where you’d think this would be where Marinette finally brings up the issue bridging the NYC special and “Cat Blanc”, neither of the two are as much as alluded to. That Adrien has the power of murder has yet to be explicitly discussed in the show proper, but in combination with his personal relationship to Hawkmoth being a ticking irony bomb, the question of can he even bear it is inevitable.

That Adrien’s post as Cat Noir wasn’t as given as Marinette’s as Ladybug is echoed in the amount of times that Adrien has either quit or at least contemplated doing so (“Syren”, NYC special, “Wishmaker”, “Kuro Neko”). He likes being Cat Noir more than Marinette likes being Ladybug, but he lacks her iron certainty in the role. It is notable, then, that THE ONE TIME where Marinette questions her part, it is after Cat Noir has quit. She says this, out loud, in words. When Cat Noir’s powers become too heavy for Adrien to carry, then Ladybug, too, disappears.

So surely "Destruction" must be the point where this is finally comes together - where Adrien's history of quitting meets his ultimate crisis, where his powers abused on a human being of flesh and blood forces him into confronting the potential cost of being this particular hero, which will foreshadow the ultimate choice he’ll have to take: between being Cat Noir and being his father’s son. And where his choice, in turn, will define whether Ladybug can exist.

Or not.

Maybe we'll never again have Adrien think about how he probably murdered a man. Maybe we'll just - oh I don't know.

Have him start trying to cataclysm people?

Repeatedly?

While showing none of the horror at himself which he clearly had in the aftermath of accidentally cataclysming the villain responsible for his later victims’ possession?

And in the end, after never calling attention to Adrien’s new and trigger happy ways, we’ll have him give in to his fear, claim that he isn’t strong enough to responsibly use Plagg’s powers, and send his miraculous away for Ladybug to use alone, because it turns out that “Kuro Neko” was right and the NYC special was wrong: she can be Ladybug without him.

Growth, amirite.

V. IN THIS HOUSE WE DON’T TALK ABOUT PATRICIDE

Dramatic irony was the main engine driving "Miraculous Ladybug" from the start, and it was Adrien who bore the brunt of it. Not only did he spend four and a half seasons in unrequited love with a girl who rejected him for himself; he spent five seasons doing weekly battle against his own father.

The superpower war between father and son isn't just a source of story tension, however: it is inextricably mirrored in their relationship as family, where the father is openly abusive and the son is magically incapable of protesting. The show repeatedly makes A Point about how the freedom Adrien so wants, is one that he only gets through being Cat Noir, and the only way Adrien is capable of fighting his father - albeit ignorant of it - is with Plagg's powers.

Cat Noir defeating Hawkmoth was necessary not just for his story as a superhero, but as his character arc as a normal boy.

And in "Destruction", this is exactly what happens. Thanks to Plagg's powers, the path to Adrien's freedom is finally paved, in the most gruesome and unwanted manner possible. Adrien might not get the big cathartic show-down with his evil father, but technically he was the one to bring him down.

But we don't talk about that. Except for his one (1) line after Monarch escapes with Ladybug's lucky charm, Adrien never again brings up the fact that his being careless with a cataclysm certainly maimed a man, by precedent (Aeon) possibly killed him. Rather than a story arc about Adrien being afraid of his own powers, it’s only now that he starts aiming it at people when he’s under emotional duress. This could of course have been one hell of a story point if it was intentional, but by all accounts, it wasn’t. When Adrien never again reflects on his having probably murdered a man, or reasons that Monarch is probably fine since he’s clearly still around so maybe a cataclysm isn’t so bad, and he never dwells on his nearly murdering two of his friends, there can’t have been any connection intended here. Moreover: when Adrien is scared of his miraculous towards the end, it’s not about its capacity for normal murder when he’s having a bad day, but its capacity of ending the world if he happens to be akumatised.

Gabriel is likewise disinterested in the cause of his impending disintegration. You’d think the man would feel some kind of special resentment towards Cat Noir and his powers, you could think this was where he’d get to re-thinking his relationship to the two people who are sitting on the keys to solving all his problems. Maybe he’d start doubting himself now, bearing the ultimate testament to his magical hubris. But no. The cataclysm wound is there and it’s a problem, but the reason it happened is completely irrelevant to the man who did this to himself and unknowingly, to his son.

That is almost as mind-blowing as the fact that they really had a straight up patricide happen on screen. Sure, death was never the intention of either of the two parties, and Adrien certainly holds no blame for what happened. But Gabriel must have at least known what he was risking, and even if the soft-hearted Adrien would somehow reason away the gravity, Plagg would certainly now. By its very nature, this one cataclysm drags out and distils a plethora of questions about both Adrien’s role as Cat Noir, about Gabriel’s vision of himself and his goals, and about their relationship not as father and son, but as villain and hero. The gruesome narrative irony looming over all this is in that regard just the icing on the cake.

There is certainly an Oedipal layer to the drama of Gabriel and Adrien, though the often more scandalous incestuous angle is considerably downplayed here. Even so: By the denouement of S5, Adrien has successfully killed his father and set up a home with his mother. That really happened, but we’re sure not going to investigate how this influenced the relationship between two nemesis, between father and son, between Adrien and his kwami.

The cataclysm in “Destruction” turned Adrien from anguished shoujo love interest to the hero of a greek tragedy, but the show is dead set on pretending that it didn’t.

VI. SO THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT

In isolation, "Destruction" comes across as weird more than anything. It's named after Adrien's kwami, it spends an inordinate amount of screentime on Adrien's father, it reaches back to Adrien's perhaps most defining moment as Cat Noir as it fundamentally changes the game between our heroes and our villains as one of them is finally dealt a damaging blow - which in turn sets Adrien's life down a path towards tragedy that must be interfered with for him to have a happy ending by the end of the season.

And yet, Adrien is a peripheral presence in it. Marinette and Gabriel dominate the screentime, Alya and the kwamis are consistently present as the thematic chorus at their respective sides throughout, the episode plays its events twice in order to make it clear that Ladybug is too clever for Monarch's miraculous, the emotional arcs that are followed are the follow-up on where Marinette and Alya stand after the disaster in "Strike Back" as well as Gabriel's renewed vigour. Adrien's only contribution to the episode is to follow Ladybug's instructions and to make clear that his relationship with his father is still awkward. The episode depicts probably THE most important event of the show, but this event is treated almost as an afterthought, and the horrors of it are confined to one (1) line of dialogue from Cat Noir.

The only thing in “Destruction” that is brought up in later episodes is that Gabriel is now actively dying. If they wanted for Gabriel to live on a countdown for his date with the grim reaper, there were countless other ways about it: Have it be his use of too many miraculous which backfires, have him having used the peacock before it was fixed, have it be too much evil on the hands of Nooroo, have him get a serious call from his doctor, have him screw up Tomoe's machinery, have him develop a drug problem. This is a fictional narrative; its twists and turns are absolutely in the hands of the writers, teenage girls being irredeemable or not. It was never vital that this happened by cataclysm specifically.

So what was the point, then? Did we truly turn our magical girl show into a Greek tragedy for the shocked pikachu faces only?

The one thing I somehow haven't seen people bring up, is that "Destruction" makes it impossible for Adrien to learn Monarch's identity. According to the writers themselves, the reason lies in two of the other episodes named after him: "Cat Blanc" and "Ephemeral", wherein he learns his father's identity and is promptly akumatised. This is of course bullshit: both these cases relied not on Adrien learning his father's identity, but on Gabriel specifically scheming to traumatise Adrien with both the Hawkmoth reveal AND the fact that he's been living in the same house as his mother's dead body for the last year or two (timeline here is spectacularly contradictory). There was anothing inevitable about this. You're the writers. You could've set up a scenario where Adrien didn't learn about his father's crimes as an act of psychological warfare, and where he'd have the time to absorb it, to grieve and to find support by the time he'd confront him with it. Having every person close to Adrien keep life-defining secrets from him “for his own good” is, by god, not a good look on anyone involved here. Still it’s understanable, at least for those who aren't either adults or gods of destruction.

"Destruction", however, serves as an explanation for the gaping plot hole in the epilogue: Marinette tells Alya, she tells Su-Han. The one she doesn't tell, though?

The partner who was at her side before Alya or Su-Han ever appeared, and stood by her in far worse storms. Because telling Cat Noir the truth would mean telling Cat Noir that he dealt Gabriel Agreste the killing blow, and ain't that a nifty way to ensure that Marinette won't. Because if Adrien does learn Monarch's identity and the truth about his fall in future seasons, Emilie better hide those garment pins.

The truly damning part of "Destruction" isn't so much what the episode itself does. It's what it doesn't do. It's the storylines it cuts short and leaves behind, and it is the storyline it by its very existence introduces, but which the show refuses to touch.

Per title and content both, "Destruction" should be the culmination of thematic storylines from "Cat Blanc", the NYC special and "Kuro Neko". It’s not; it’s not even about Adrien, and Plagg isn’t even present in it. Moreover: its lacking presence on future episodes make it painfully evident that ambitions, there were none. Those storylines were either aborted like Adrien picking up Felix's spyglass in the S4 finale, or the show never did mean for there to be such a thing as "layers" to this story about a boy who becomes a hero to unknowingly break free from his superhero father.

The real reason why "Destruction" is the worst episode of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is that it obliterates the most cohesive character arc this show had going for it, and that this was done on purpose.

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which Cullen has accidentally become invested in.

Supplemental material for Unwanted, from the perspective of Cullen. In this addendum, Cullen tries not to ruin it.

(Masterpost. Addendums. Words: 910. Rating: all audiences. Warning: Addendums may contain spoilers for Unwanted and are best read after finishing the story entirely.)

Chapters 39, Addendum

The Herald’s Rest was remarkably lively for what was, by all intents and purposes, noon.

The impromptu engagement celebration being held for the Ladies Erridge and Orroat had spilled out of the tavern, into the surrounding area. The training ring—which had only recently hosted the very duel that was being celebrated—now boasted revellers, perched upon the fence or leant heavily against it, talking and laughing and sharing drinks.

A particularly merry soldier almost fell off it, sparking a round of cackles amongst his friends—which soon fell to silence, when they realised what had caused the accident.

Their Commander strode past.

If only they knew that Cullen did not much mind. Sure, they would have been better off training or on patrols, but such merriment was good for morale, and he had no intention of disrupting it. In fact, he came to join it.

He’d taken the time to get cleaned up proper, though Lady Trevelyan had done a fine enough job of it herself, with nothing more than a napkin. His mind drifted back to that experience, unable to resist its pull. The warmth of her touch still lingered on his cheek. He recalled glimmer of the forge in her eyes when she—

Cullen walked directly into the door frame of the Herald’s Rest. It seemed his face would have no relief today, as the injury he had already received from Lady Orroat began to smart again.

“You been on the ale, Commander?” asked one of the nearby soldiers. “You alright?”

“Fine, thank you,” he grumbled, pinching his nose. “I… hadn’t watched where I was going.”

“You weren’t far off, Ser!”

Though the joke earnt the soldier a few laughs from their compatriots, Cullen remained stoic out of embarrassment, and even considered turning around right there. But he reasoned that it would look more embarrassing if he didn’t even enter the place he’d just bumped into, so enter he did.

His mischeivous mind at least attempted to settle him by noting that Lady Trevelyan would likely be willing to administer some of that tender touch of hers again, should his injury be so bad. However, he would have to find her first.

And the tavern was absolute chaos. Filled with almost every attendee of the duel, the place was crowded from top to bottom. A bard played over constant chatter, barmen and maids weaved through with trays of orders, and the chance of finding even a dragon in this mess seemed an impossible ask.

But then he heard her laughter, echoing through the air. The sound alone made him smile.

Cullen prowled the edges of the room, concealed by the shadows of the other patrons. He caught a glimpse, between their shoulders, of her table. Lady Trevelyan sat with the other Ladies, smiling and giggling, shining like the sun. Every candle in the room seemed to glow in her direction. The chaos seemed like silence in the sight of her.

She was surrounded by friends, for it seemed Cullen was not the only one she’d attracted to attend. Varric and Sera lounged upon the table, having a loud conversation. Dorian had his hands cupped around the Baroness’ ear, whispering something that made her smirk. Dagna, too, had arrived, and was telling a joke that had the other Ladies in fits of laughter.

Cullen observed it a moment. There was more than enough mirth to be had between them. More than enough without him.

He did not wish to ruin it.

Unnoticed, he withdrew. Back through the crowd, back out of the door—and, he intended, back to his office.

“Commander?”

But he managed only three of the battlement stairs, before the call of his name stopped him in his tracks. Yet it wasn’t Lady Trevelyan’s voice.

“Leaving already?” asked the Baroness Touledy, stood at the foot of the stair, both hands upon her cane. She regarded him with something like curiosity, though there was a sharpness to her stare.

“I am,” he said, over the bannister. “I didn’t wish to disturb you all.”

“Really? And has she told you that she does not desire your presence?”

He cleared his throat. “No, but—”

“Then why leave?”

Because he did not wish to ruin it. Not just their gathering, but all that had come before. Though she had shown him kindness in the armoury, he felt lucky that it had gone unspoilt by some error or misstep of his. It was as if he wished to preserve it, as it was, and not cause it damage in retrospect. Let it remain perfection.

“I am… I have work to do,” he lied. Well, not really a lie. He did have work to do. But not urgently. He could have spared the time.

The Baroness knew that very well already, if the quirk of her eyebrow was anything to go by. “She’ll be disappointed you weren’t there.”

“I hardly think—”

“She will.”

He hesitated. “I—I can’t. Not yet.”

This wasn’t some irrational fear. He’d come so close to ruining it before. Time was needed, for her to trust him, and for Cullen to trust himself. And that meant, in the interim, that he would rather she be disappointed by his absence, than injured by his presence.

The Baroness sighed. “A shame.”

“I know.”

“You’re terrible at this.”

“I know.”

She nodded, and turned to go. “Improve, Commander,” she told him, striding away, “and quickly.”

He would. He’d try.

[polutrope]

"green things even among the pits and rocks"+maglor? (you already know all my potential ship preferences if ships were to come in :D)

Thank you for the prompt! From this list. 

Probably not a relationship you were expecting, but I have a Caranthir and Maglor agenda (re-ignited by this character ask), so here we are. Post-War of Wrath in the ruins of Rerir and Helevorn, 775 words.

* * *

Strange, that one of the few tracts of land not to sink into the sea is a place that Maglor knew so well. 

Not so well, any more; that is true, for it has greatly changed. The soaring white peak of Rerir has been brought low. Its slopes, once thick with blue-green pines, are mostly shorn down to bare rock. In its collapse, the mountain has filled the deep basin of Helevorn so that no more than scattered pools of the lake’s dark waters remain.

But the land is not so changed that Maglor cannot remember. 

* * *

Dawn is heralded not by the Sun, whose warm light will remain hidden behind the mountains for some time yet, but by the chorus of birds outside. Maglor and his brother have kept each other awake through the night, meandering pleasantly between story and jest and debate. Now Caranthir has a mind to ascend to the summit of Mount Rerir. Today. And when Caranthir has a mind to undertake some bold, and possibly ill-advised, adventure it is little use trying to stop him. Besides, Maglor is eager to gaze east over the vastness of Endor. 

“It is liberating, Macalaurë, to feel so small, looking out over that endless expanse of wilderness,” said Caranthir, topping off Maglor’s goblet with the last of the second bottle of wine. “You must see it.”

It is rare enough that Caranthir will suffer the company of another, let alone extend an invitation. So Maglor will go with him.

“But first,” Caranthir says, rising purposefully from the chair he has occupied for the last several hours, “I must swim.” 

“Swim?” Maglor says. “Isn’t it cold?”

Offering no more than a grunt and a wave of his hand in answer, Caranthir is on the way out. It takes more effort for Maglor to pull himself away from the comfort of Caranthir’s plush furniture and well-appointed chamber. When he catches up to his brother, Caranthir is already standing on a rock beside the black water, stripped naked. He looks over his shoulder at Maglor and dives, as if he had been waiting for him to witness the bold leap into the lake. Caranthir’s skin is pink with the cold when he surfaces, but he is grinning. Steam swirls around his body from the heat of his own breath in the frigid air.

“Won’t you join me?” he shouts at Maglor. 

Maglor scoffs and scuffs the stone beneath his feet. He is about to cross his arms over his chest and say, “I think not,” but then he catches his brother’s eyes, wild and careless, and he laughs. Before he has the chance to think better of it, Maglor has made a heap of his own clothing on the damp ground and is bounding towards the edge of the rock. The cold is knife-sharp and squeezes the breath from his lungs. It bursts out as a yelp, and Caranthir laughs that rough and raucous laugh that Maglor has always delighted in coaxing from his morose little brother.

Then Caranthir takes off, arms whirling, cutting a path over the glassy water. Maglor goes after him. The cold slips between the tight knots in his muscles and loosens them. In the wake that trails behind his fluttering feet are the cares of too many anxious nights. All the warmth of his body gathers around his heart. 

He gives up the chase, rolling onto his back to float on the surface, limbs splayed in surrender to the sky. The rising Sun purples the ridge of the Ered Luin. 

* * *

The bond between Maglor and Caranthir was not well understood by others. Even Maedhros, when Maglor enthused about his visits east, would furrow his brows and shake his head; perplexed, if not a little envious. 

It was the poetry in the way Caranthir experienced everything—as quick to anger as he was to laughter. As skilled at finding fault that others missed as he was at finding beauty that no one else could see. And it was Maglor who could best translate that acute, often wearying, experiencing of the world into something that made sense. 

Maglor surveys the wreckage of the land his brother had loved. A beam of sunlight thrusts itself through the clouds and catches on a pool of water in the distance. The reflection glitters between heaps of jagged rock and churned soil tangled with roots. Maglor looks down at his feet. Where a trickle of water has found its way between the rocks, hardy leaves, holding the promise of a flower, have sprouted. Green is filling in the veins of the land once more.

* * *

The idea of Caranthir enjoying icy swims in Lake Helevorn is inspired by Dawn Felagund's Caranthir, who also does this.

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

NaNoWriMo 2023 Day 27: Herald At Dawn

***I'm doing half a nano (25k not 50k) cause I have too much other shit to do (school)***

Today's Word Count/Today's Goal Wordcount: 892/835

Total Word Count: 22,705/25k (91%)

Goal Word Count: 25k

Snippet:

Stretching on her tiptoes, Alex snatched the edge and pulled it down. “Damn,” said Jack, passing by. “That was three or four years ago, wasn’t it?” “If not more,” agreed Alex. In her hands was a flier for an air show that took place on May 23-29, with no year attached. It was unfaded, the map having protected it from the sunlight that streamed through the windows at all hours. There was a sketch drawing of a derrigable, with a child and family staring up at it and grinning. “VISIT THE BURNS BROTHERS’ FLYING CIRCUS, IN VOLIMERE ONE WEEK ONLY!” it proclaimed, in big, bold letters across the top. Alex smiled fondly. She had gone. It had not been everything you imagined the legendary traveling show to be when you were a child, but it had been a wonderful day. She tucked it under a nearby stack of books, and pinned up in the center of the board the front page of the Volimere Daily on the day Grayson’s murder was announced, and next to it today’s edition of The Clockwork Herald, with a massive headline on the front in bold typeface. CITY JUDGE FOUND MURDERED; POLICE HAVE NO SUSPECTS.

Notes: Today I learned that flier is spelled with an 'i', not with a 'y'. This was news to me, and I spent about 15 seconds starting at spellcheck in disbelief. Also, it's above 90% done!!!! whooooooo!! well, in word count anyway. the story is not 90% done at all, which I'm actually really glad about. Normally my draft 0s are lucky to hit 10 or 15k, but this isn't anywhere near done at 22.7k, which is REALLY encouraging as to how this is going to turn out. (my draft 0s are generally about 20-30% of the final word count as best I can tell, so if I'm doing my math correctly this might very well end up somewhere around 85k (at the outside, probably closer to 65-75k) and that would be. holy shit that would be incredible.) (honestly, I'm not quite sure I can call this a draft 0. It's a first draft, properly, which is uh. *vibrates very fast because words are not currently present*).

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @thelaughingstag @gr3y-heron @another-white-void @amethyst-aster

[feekins]

today, as I re-read ch 3 of Trigun Maximum vol 1, the focus of our story shifts to post-timeskip Meryl! what's she up to? what strange new translation discrepancies will I stumble upon next? let's jump right in and find out! 😁

(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)

ok so the moment I saw the first page, I had to go grab Trigun vol 1 for comparison purposes.

SO. a couple things I wanna note about the in-'verse timeline, for posterity:

Lost July happened on July 21, 0104

Fifth Moon happened in October of 0110

at Fifth Moon, Vash references the Fall as having happened 150 years ago...

...which has me thinking that some major post-Fall event led to the decision to start a new calendar "era" - like how, in tristamp, the "Planet Era" was heralded by humanity managing to establish a planet-wide radio network using a satellite that was launched pre-Fall (source: Studio Orange on Twitter)

(SIDE-NOTE: on the sheet we see Meryl hand Roberto towards the beginning of tristamp ep 1, we see Meryl's birth year marked as "PE081" and her age as "23" - which tells us that tristamp starts in the year 0104 - which tracks with the date the manga gives us for Lost July! and also has me thinking we won't have a Fifth Moon in the new anime, but I digress;;;;; )

Trigun Maximum picks up 2 years after Fifth Moon (0112)...

...but we first see post-Fifth Moon Meryl on her 23rd birthday in February of 0113...

...meaning a few months have passed since we met Eriks!

oh, and that office lady, Karen, says Meryl's Vash assignment was 4 months long, which puts the start of Trigun vol 1 at July of 0110!

anyway. I thought that was interesting. if it hasn't been done already, it would be cool for someone to keep track of the manga timeline (someone who isn't me, lmao - I've already spent over an hour on this post;;;;; )

(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)

anyway! here's the first little translation discrepancy that jumped out at me this chapter! similar wording, sure, but to me, subtle differences in meaning and overall vibes the phrasing gives off rly emphasizes Vash's softness in the Overhaul 💕

(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)

but this? lol idk, man ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

additional shit in the Overhaul's translation! not surprised that Keele seems like even more of an asshole here lmao

...ok but it's rly funny to think about the possibility that all Vash knows about insurance agents comes from his impressions of Meryl and Milly. so. I guess in his mind, Keele's just par for the course 🤣

subtle difference in wording here, but thanks to the Overhaul, this little bit makes a lot more sense to me this read-through =u=

same deal here!

wow, they're married... 🤣🤣🤣

and again! Dark Horse had me thinking Meryl was talking about Vash here. the Overhaul makes it clear that, no, she's talking about that asshole Keele

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

New tweet from Rhys Darby last night and more about him below:

Billy T’ Billy: Rhys Darby on finding success in New Zealand and overseas

Rhys Darby has gone from performing in New Zealand to leading his own HBO show, Our Flag Means Death

Rhys Darby is one of New Zealand’s biggest entertainment exports of the last 20 years, going from performing local standup to co-starring in Flight of the Conchords, and now is a regular fixture in Hollywood blockbusters.

He has become such a success story that it’s easy to forget he lost one of New Zealand comedy’s top prizes - twice.

Darby was nominated for the Billy T Award, which recognises rising talent in the New Zealand comedy industry, back in 2001 and 2002, but lost the prize to Jan Maree and Dai Henwood.

Speaking to the Billy T’ Billy podcast from his home in Los Angeles, Darby told host Rhys Mathewson it was something to strive for while young, but not something he wanted to sit around for “waiting for some dude to tick me off on his chart”.

“As soon as you find out in your own head through the power of realisation that awards are not the be-end-all, and in fact, are just a pain in the arse, they’re not the finish line, then you’re gonna do better,” Darby said.

“And I think people are still struggling with that idea today because it gives them some sort of recognition, uh, and then they can get their next step up. But we’ve seen from experiences in the past that it gives you about five minutes’ worth of recognition, and then what are you gonna do?

“The most important thing to do is recognise yourself, not through an award, but through hard work. And a show that has sold out, a show that has reviewed really well, and that will tell you that you are a winner, not some dude with an old gumboot on a bit of wood.”

That’s a reference to the Fred Dagg Award, which goes to the winner of the Best Show award at each year’s festival and is indeed a gumboot on a plank of wood. Darby joked that the accolade does count - after all, he won it in 2012.

Darby said his goal always was to go to the United Kingdom, where he was able to break out and start his international career. He credits the New Zealand International Comedy Festival with helping him get there, as many of the international comics who came over for the festival told him he’d do well on the UK circuit.

Getting into the Comedy Store in Leicester Square in London was when Darby knew he’d made it.

“I had one chance to get in there. And I knew I had to prove myself and you get 15 minutes, or not even that, it might be a 10-minute spot in front of the big cheese. And after that, you’ll come off stage and he’ll bring you into the office and he’ll either say, ‘keep at it’, which means, you’re not there yet, or he’ll do what he did to me and which was, ‘I want to give you a paid weekend and I haven’t really done this with anyone that I’ve only seen for 10 minutes before in a long time’.

“And once you’ve got your spot on a Friday, Saturday night, then the rest of the comedy world knows that you’re a major player, and then you’re getting booked in for all these clubs left, right, and centre.”

Listen to the latest episode of Billy T’ Billy from 40:05 minutes in for more from Rhys Darby on his comedy beginnings and memories of local comedy.

Source: NZ Herald

[cilil]

Raising my hand for a smutty version of "summer storms", with whichever ship you like. Surprise me.

Summer Stories

AN: Hope you like the surprise - I enjoyed writing this a lot!

Prompt: Summer storms | Manwë x Eönwë (Lords of Ilmarin) Synopsis: Eönwë takes care of himself during a summer storm. Manwë decides to help. Warnings: Smut

A storm is approaching. 

Eönwë's wings twitch in anticipation as he removes his robes and makes himself comfortable on his bed. The wind is slowly picking up speed, cooling and caressing his naked skin, still sweaty from another day of training in the summer heat.

He loves storms. The sound of rain, the lightning and thunder, the scent of petrichor, the way his lord's usually gentle element shows its true might. It calms and excites him at the same time, like a power greater than himself tugging on invisible strings attached to his very ëala, drawing him in. 

Eönwë lies on his back and waits. He will rest well tonight, he already knows, once he falls asleep in the storm's wild embrace. But it's too early for that still; like the heavy clouds swirling around Taniquetil's peak, he too feels pressure building up inside him and needs relief. His right hand instinctively reaches between his legs and finds his cock hardening in anticipation, demanding attention. Sometimes he forgets how long it has been since he's enjoyed the touch of a lover or even his own, he thinks – and not for the first time. 

He won't rush it today, Eönwë decides, he'll simply indulge – the storm outside the palace, the warmth within his fána, the electrifying sensation coursing through him just as he hears the first thunder. His eyes close, and his lips part to release a soft noise of pleasure. 

Before he can even begin to conjure up the fantasy of a lover tending to him instead, he feels a rush of wind, then a warm embrace. Manwë pulls him onto his lap with ease, watching as his legs fall open, and places his hand on top of his. 

"I see you enjoy my storms," he says and nuzzles the Maia's neck. "As do I." 

"My lord..." Despite being naked and touching himself in front of the Elder King, Eönwë can't bring himself to feel shame, especially not while Manwë is holding him like this. Perhaps he'll even receive another reward for his loyal service. 

"Please," he begs quietly, hips bucking into his hand for emphasis. 

Manwë gently guides it away from his cock to wrap his own around it. "Of course, my pretty little bird. You know I love taking care of you." 

And he does. Eönwë keeps his eyes closed and lies still, happy to relinquish control and let his lord toy with his fána as he pleases. Manwë takes his time while they listen to the storm outside, stroking his cock and caressing his sensitive wings; his ëala sings in delight upon witnessing his proud herald surrendering to him so faithfully. 

Eönwë feels his fána tensing when he nears his peak and opens his mouth to beg, but all he manages are small moans and whines. Yet Manwë knows he's close and resumes pleasuring him with calm persistence, not slowing down until his back arches and white liquid spills all over his hand. 

"Well done," he praises and moves it to the Maia's lips. Obeying his lord's silent order without hesitation, Eönwë diligently begins to lick him clean. 

"Should I serve you now?" he asks, opening his eyes to look up at the Vala. Tasting his own release was strangely arousing, but he knows it could never compare to being filled with the Elder King's glory - in whichever way he's allowed to receive it. 

"Not yet." Manwë leans down to kiss his brow. "For now, let us rest and enjoy the storm together."

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @bluezenzennie @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[thelensofyashunews]

LEON BRIDGES ANNOUNCES SELF-TITLED ALBUM, "LEON" OUT OCTOBER 4

Today, GRAMMY® Award-winning Texas recording artist, songwriter, and performer Leon Bridges announces his fourth full-length LP, Leon, releasing on October 4, 2024, via Columbia Records.

Pre-order/Pre-save is available now HERE.

The highly anticipated release notably marks Leon’s first album in three years and is heralded with today’s unveiling of his new single, “Peaceful Place.”

Filmed in Leon’s own peaceful place, the outskirts of Mexico City, the official video gives a candid look at the recording of the album, showcasing Leon’s explorations as he finds inspiration in the culture with his newfound state of mind that no one can take away.

Says Leon in a personal letter to fans announcing Leon, “Leon has been a long-time coming. I started writing pieces of it as far back as Gold-Diggers Sound. They didn't fit what I was trying to do with that album and I tried moving on. But I couldn’t shake them because they're part of me. And, if I'm honest, also because I think this is some of my most excellent work yet.

In many ways, Leon has been in the works since my childhood. This record is about simpler days. It's about time spent in my beloved Fort Worth and the experiences that made me the man I am today. It's soulful music in the truest sense - it's imbued with my soul.

I'm excited to share these stories about my home, about nostalgia, about my upbringing, about where I'm from, with all of you. I hope this music brings you back to your roots and your journey.”

Recorded and produced by Ian Fitchuk (Kacey Musgraves, Maggie Rogers) at El Desierto on the outskirts of Mexico City with co-production from Daniel Tashian (Kacey Musgraves) in Nashville, Leon features 13 handcrafted tracks spotlighting Leon’s signature storytelling and organic genre alchemy. Leon unfolds as his most poignant, powerful, and personal body of work to date as the man himself takes you through the streets he knows best, the things he holds dearest, and the memories of the people and place that shaped him. This record is unmistakably Leon.

Leon follows his third studio album Gold-Diggers Sound, which was released back in 2021 to unanimous acclaim and serves as Leon’s third album (out of three) to receive a GRAMMY® nomination for R&B Album of the Year. It bowed in the Top 20 of the Billboard 200 and incited the applause of Pitchfork, Clash [9-out-of-10], NME [4-out-of-5], and Rolling Stone [4-out-of-5], among others. Just this year has seen Leon collaborate with Gunna on “clear my rain,” release “Chrome Cowgirl” for the Twister movie soundtrack and join Kacey Musgraves on “Superbloom,” a duet for the extended edition of her Deeper Well album.

Leon Official Tracklist:

1. When A Man Cries

2. That’s What I Love

3. Laredo

4. Panther City

5. Ain’t Got Nothing On You

6. Simplify

7. Teddy’s Tune

8. Never Satisfied

9. Peaceful Place

10. Can’t Have It All

11. Ivy

12. Ghetto Honeybee

13. God Loves Everyone

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, November 28

Buffy: (comes into the room) Well, it's official. Chris and Eric didn't come to school today. Xander: That's no coincidence. Willow: Maybe they finished their project. Buffy: God! What if it worked? What, what if that poor girl is walking around? Xander: Poor girls, technically. Buffy: What could she be thinking? Willow: And what are they gonna do with her? Giles: (comes in also) I don't think we need to worry about that just yet. I spoke to a press person this morning about the remains. The police have finished sorting through them, and apparently they found three heads in the dumpster. Buffy: They only had three girls. Giles: Precisely. Willow: So, they don't have the whole, uh, package? Xander: Heads must be no good. Huh. I found 'em attractive enough. Well, obviously I'm not as sick as Chris and Eric.

~~Buffy Episode #14: "Some Assembly Required"~~

[Chaptered Fiction]

Exposure Ch. 1-5/5 (COMPLETE) (Buffy/Spike, E) by thoughtsofahouseplant

Blood and Chaos Ch. 64 (OC, Ensemble, M) by Aetheron, quote_Amy_unquote (Sannah_banana)

Goodbye to Everything That I Knew Ch. 9 (Buffy/Spike, M) by My_Barbaric_Yawp

Cultivating Chaos Ch 15 (Spike/OC, Ensemble, M) by BunnyQuill

Hope is the thing with feathers Ch. 2 (Buffy/Spike, unrated) by wildflowerr_wildfire

Return of the Soulless Vampire: BTVS S9 Rewrite - a WWS story Ch. 44 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Hoomanbeans

The Text Message Memories of Buffy and Spike Ch. 1-25/25 (COMPLETE) (Buffy/Spike, T) by julikobold

California Sun, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, T) by To Be Hers

The Neighbor's Point of View, Chapter 59 (Buffy/Spike, Ch. 59) by the_big_bad

Wraith, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, M) by simmony

Crash and Burn, Chapter 22 (Buffy/Spike, E) by NautiBitz

(Buffy/Spike, ) by

Bad Necromance, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Rea

Cherry On Top, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Maxine Eden

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Buffy and Angelus by artsying-ifer

Artwork:Wine of the mother. Death of the innocent. (Willow) by pzyii

Artwork:Spike by loser-magoo

Artwork:Character Sketches by vu-prod

Artwork:Spike & Drusilla by pocketsizedann

Artwork:Buffy & Spike by thegothicalice

[Fandom Discussions]

Top Five Episodes of Buffy that don’t have Faith in them but do make you think of her by coraniaid

part of me thinks that Season 4 would work a lot better if the Initiative had heard of the Slayer before by coraniaid

my vote for the most unfairly criticized episode of each season by coraniaid

Beer Bad definitely isn’t the worst episode of Season 4 by coraniaid

Top 10 Spuffy fics I’ve read (Nov 2023) by mcgnagallsarmy

thinking about wishverse buffy. by sunflowerlesbian99

it’s not that I don’t get why the scoobies get hate in certain parts of the fandom by jennys-calendar

Why I relate to Buffy Summers as a chronically ill person by buffyrouge

BTVS Percy Jackson AU Characters by unseentravler

Was Tara Maclay from Buffy the Vampire Slayer fridged? by wasted-women

In which episode did your favorite character actually become your favorite character? by JellyfishDry9464

Buffys fashion choice. by Hairy-Membership-461

Tail man in season 5 by snowblind2022

Best acting skill of your fave character's actor? by Sudden-Star-7190

Why do people hate Xander so much? by imnotokaywiththis_

SMG declares there’s “too much sex” on the show by RealisticAd4054

Characters you identify the most with (and why) by Archonate_of_Archona

Does every monster/demon just punch and kick? by MasonicPleb

wasn't Sunnydale hot? was there a reason willow had so many warm looking hats? by milkmamasilk

Vampire MMA by Virtual_Row_8445

First-time watcher. How is this show real by LateRegistrationz

What's something from season 1 that you thought was good? by george123890yang

Is this scene from an actual episode? by Taeolian

(S)layers of foreshadowing by not_firewood_yet

Am I the only one who hated Angel, gave it a chance, and was won over? by Singaya

PUBLICATION: Return to the Hellmouth by kcmurdarasi

PUBLICATION: Angel Season 4: Trying to Make a Better World by andrew-heard

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: Why Sarah Michelle Gellar Turned Down The Role Of Cordelia Before She Got Buffy by Slash Film

'

PUBLICATION: James Marsters Is Proud of Subverting Expectations With 'Buffy' & 'Torchwood by Collider

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[minato-division03]

The morning light filtered through the curtains of Reiaki Suzubayashi's apartment in Roppongi, casting a warm glow across the room. Today was no ordinary day—it was her birthday, and she had planned to spend it indulging in the rare luxury of sleeping in. But as the universe would have it, her plans were promptly derailed by the energetic cries of her roommate's infant son.

With a resigned sigh, Reiaki abandoned any hope of returning to her dreams. She tossed aside her blankets and stretched, her tattoos shifting over her skin with each movement. The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional cooing and babbling that drifted from the nursery, reminding her that the day had indeed begun, whether she liked it or not.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, Reiaki made her way to the kitchen, her mind still foggy with sleep. But as she stepped out of her room, she nearly tripped over an unexpected obstacle. Catching herself against the doorframe, she looked down to see a collection of gifts, each one carefully wrapped and adorned with birthday stickers and cheerful ribbons.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Trust her roommate to go all out, even when she wasn't awake to see it. Reiaki gathered the presents, her silver jewelry clinking softly, and arranged them on her bed. The first gift beckoned to her, its wrapping paper glinting in the morning light.

She reached for it, her fingers deftly peeling back the tape to reveal the surprise that awaited her inside:

Inside a small, gift-wrapped box was a small, yet intricate music box with a cherry motif on it, as well as a cute Chinese-looking black cat on top. Looking at it, Reiaki pressed the button on the front of the music box, making the lid pop open, which released a beautiful melody filled with bells inside, making the SFX artist's mouth open in surprise. She smiled as the melody ended. Although the box itself was kinda tacky, the music it displayed was wonderous, proving that the inside is what mattered, not the outside.

Placing the music box off to the side, she looked as there was a note tape to the bottom, which read:

"Reiaki,

In the quiet of the morning, as Roppongi slowly awakens to the symphony of a new day, I'm reminded of the subtle yet profound influence you've cast upon our world. This music box, with its delicate bell melody, is a tribute to the enduring echo of your artistry and the shared rhythm of our existence. May its tune greet you like the dawn's first light—gentle, hopeful, and full of promise. Here's to the melodies yet to come and the stories they will tell. Happy Birthday, Reiaki, and may the music in your heart always play as beautifully as the sunrise that heralds a fresh start.

Warm regards,

Kai 'DJ Veenyle' Quinlan"

Giving a slight chuckle at the DJ's letter, Reiaki placed it off to the side and turned to her other gifts. Noticing the slight, sweet smell coming from one of them, the SFX artist felt her mouth water as she could picture what was inside of them. Opening them, her hopes weren't dashed as inside was what she expected:

Yup, true to her nature it was a birthday cake made by her favorite chef, Luis. The SFX artist could already fill her mouth watering looking at it, weird cat design on top, barring. Laying it off to the side, she looked at the other gift, which was slightly heavier. Like the cake, it also gave off a smell, making her pause. Opening it up, her eyes grew wide:

It was a basket full of spicy dishes and foods, most of which she had ordered and eaten at Luis's restaurant. On top of one of the foods was a note that said,

"Dear Reiaki,

Your teammates mentioned your birthday was on the horizon, so I whipped up these treats in advance. Knowing your penchant for the piquant, I've prepared this basket of spicy delights and a birthday cake to match. Enjoy the feast, and I'm eager to welcome you back at the restaurant soon.

Sincerely,

Luis Kōkyū

P.S. Appreciate you sparing me the anime requests this time. I've been binging so much lately, it's almost second nature now."

“Waaaaaaa wow, wow, wow, wow, wow!” Ayato babbled, his dazzling iridescent eyes lighting up when he heard the light and delicate music play from the ornate music box.

Just moments earlier, Reiaki dashed out of her room with her gifts in hand and into the nursery, just absolutely excited to share the wonderful goods with her favorite people.

They were all seated on the floor to Ayato’s bedroom, the gifts all spread out on the floor.

“Isn’t it cool, Ayato?” Reiaki cooed, watching the toddler pick up the music box with his tiny, chubby hands.

Juri chuckled. “The citizens within the different divisions of Minato are quite generous.”

Reiaki smiled cheekily. “Yup!”

Ayato set the music box down, his attention span already dwindling. He stood up on his two feet and waddled over to the basket of spicy delicacies and the cake.

Ayato threw himself down.

Before he could land on top of the cat cake, Reiaki quickly reached her arm out, catching the boy by his round belly and pulled him to sit on her lap. “Well that was close! Boy! That’s for us! How’re we supposed to eat the cake if it’s smushed to smithereens!”

Ayato laughed heartily and squirmed against her hold.

Juri followed her son’s gaze. “Oh dear, it seems he has his eyes set on the basket that Kōkyū-san had sent along with the cake…”

Reiaki picked up chuckling Ayato so that he was facing her. “You silly boy, that stuff is spicy. You’re not gonna like it~”

Juri reached over and picked up the tiny jar of salsa. “Actually, there is something I want to see…” she murmured as she removed the lid and scooped out some of the salsa with her nail.

“Hold on, you wouldn’t…”

Juri brought her finger closer to Ayato, who opened his mouth widely. She paused and retracted her coated fingernail. “This might be really spicy, my love, this is your chance to back down.”

Ayato squealed and grabbed onto his mother’s hand and brought it to his mouth, his tiny little baby teeth chomping down on her finger.

Reiaki gasped and pulled Juri’s finger from his mouth.

Without so much of a reaction, the roommate instead seemed to be waiting for a reaction from the toddler.

Thanks for the gifts!

[theluckywizard]

Sunshine from Beyond

In the Shattering of Things, Chapter 28: Sunshine from Beyond

A Dragon Age: Inquisition longfic featuring Rose Trevelyan x Cullen with a side helping of x Garrett Hawke

Varric has negotiated his way onto my walk this morning, despite my full throated warnings that I am a very early riser. He wrestles his way out of his tent, cursing the cold, cursing mornings, cursing the Maiden, cursing me.

“Conveniently omitting yourself from that list,” I tease him. “I didn’t ask you to join me.”

“The literary gods compel me,” he replies. “But Andraste’s ass, let’s make this a one time thing.” Last night’s installment of snow is wet and cumbersome and just grazes Varric’s thighs, prompting more spitting and cursing, so I trample the trail for him with precision stomps.

“You do this every blazing morning?” he asks me.

“Most of them.”

“And you talked a couple kids into joining you half the time?”

“They showed up one morning and talked me into bringing them.”

“Witchcraft,” he teases me. “Something magic about you without a lick of the Fade. It reminds me of someone else.”

“That would be the mark.” I waggle the fingers of my left hand  out to my side.

“Maybe in part. But that’s not what I mean,” he insists from behind me. “For all intents and purposes you present like a pretty ordinary woman. But for some reason I have this urge to confess secrets so deep they’re gathering cobwebs. To follow you blithely into some kind of madness. There’s only one other person that has that effect. And if it weren’t for his letters, I’d think I conjured him up for a story.” The absurdity of being compared to the Champion of Kirkwall catches in my chest in a laugh.

“I won’t go asking for your dirty laundry, Varric, don’t worry.”

“That’s just it. One day you’ll come to holding an armful of my dirty laundry and neither of us will know what hit us.”

“Then it’s probably a good thing I’m about to get blasted to bits under the Breach tomorrow,” I joke. Varric is having none of it.

“We’re going through the motions, Freckles, but I get the feeling your story isn’t done yet.” The vote of confidence feels like a spark inside me but it isn’t catching. I’ve been trying to rekindle that flame of optimism all week, but all the tinder has been expended.

“I believe I recall you telling me to run while I can because you know tragedies and you know where this one is headed. Well? We’ve arrived.”

“Yeah. And that was before you doggedly survived every curveball of batshit demon combat. That was before you sashayed into a horrific future and waltzed back out to nab the Tevinter magister tinkering with time. There’s something more going on here.”

“Are you going to start calling me the Herald of Andraste, now, Varric?” I ask and it’s almost a scoff.

“I’m just saying there might be something to the miracle angle. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

“Better to expect the worst,” I say. He doesn’t press. I take the opportunity to explain my hunting process and how I involve the boys when they come with me. The snares are all empty, the growing population of the town having depleted the game to an elusive handful. I help Varric climb to the top of my rock and we perch there, watching for rams that I have no intention of taking today.

“So what does the Champion of Kirkwall think of all this?” I probe. Varric looks at me like I’m taking advantage of his admitted vulnerability beside me.

“He believes it's well in hand. He believes in you.”

“And how would he know anything about me?” I ask. Varric gives me a look and I puzzle it together. A thrill skitters through me that almost tickles. How absurd.

“I suppose you won’t tell me what you told him about me.”

“I told him the truth. That you’re disgustingly precious and I don’t know how you do it,” he says. I snort indignantly.

“Thanks, Varric.”

“Just peddling the truth, Freckles.”

“The truth? I’m shocked.”

“I don’t lie to Hawke. Couldn’t sneak one past him if I wanted to anyway.”

“He sounds kind of terrifying,” I laugh.

“Hawke? I mean– he is if he needs to be. But I think you’d find him to be a bit of a puppy. A puppy who could crush you at Wicked Grace, crush you in a drinking contest and crush you in general, but a puppy.”

“I’m telling him you said that. If I ever chance to meet him.”

“And I will stand by my words. He knows what he is.” (Continued at AO3)

Tagging the DAFF Crew

@warpedlegacy, @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb, @nirikeehan , @oxygenforthewicked

[thefisherqueen]

Granada's Sherlock Holmes: Thor Bridge

I haven't watched this Granada episode yet. The canon story started off so well and then got quite dissapointing, the plot heavily relying on racism and sexism. I remember a repeated use of 'exotic woman'. I'm curious to see how Granada will handle it.

The location where they filmed the opening scene is beautiful. Look at those gardens and gates.

*Mother stands before window, waves at own children and governess* *All just stare back* Wow, rude. So they kept the part where the morther comes from Brasil, then. Please don't just keep the original plot? On another note: this lady is wearing a bright red dress with, for victorian standards, a very deep cleavage. This seems like a not entirely innocent artistic choice: red and sexy because of the racist stereotype of her being 'passionate'.

Ok, so the lady goes to her husband, shows them the flower she's plucked. He shuts the curtain. That's just mean. My sympathy is actually more and more with this lady. She can have a little murder

Lady to random guy: "Never allow yourself to love too deeply. It will destroy you." Guy: ?????

Actual scene at the bridge: the lady is again wearing a red dress with a lot of lace, a very deep neckline and even a velvet collar. I would call it quite sexy even by today's standards. Compare that with the governess, clad all in white with a high neckline, the very picture of supposed innocence and virginity. Urgh I hate this coding

Holmes sitting in a weird way is always a blessing. He looks so happy and content! (such a good look for Jeremy Brett) Ah, Watson deduces correctly that he has a case, that's why!

I had forgotten the passage where Holmes complains about his eggs being too hard boiled because the cook was reading a romance story at the same time. It makes for a very funny scene. Jeremy Brett puts a lot of emphasis on the magazine (The family herald) being 'excellent', even more strongly implying that he read and loved the story. I just want to know - how explicit was it? Are we dealing with fluff here, or smut?

*Holmes making a thorough mess of the papers once again* I love how Edward Hardwicke doesn't even object anymore, only sighs

Holmes: "I'm falling into your beloved habit of telling stories backwards" sir why are you so snarky. Go eat your breakfast

Wait, the governess wouldn't smile at the lady, but actually does smile at the husband? Urgh I would hate it if they made her actually in love. It's even worse because in this episode it's clear he's so much older than her

The following scene is hilarious. The client is almost at the door, Holmes has made a mess of informing Watson, and then chaotically tries to make up for it in top speed. Such ADHD behaviour. This scene actually does a great job of showing how Watson helps Holmes with his thinking: he brings structure and clarity with his questions

Granada has something of a problem of making each woman either scream or sob or (in this case) faint

Good that they kept the passage where a servant of his tells Holmes how harsh the husband is and how badly he treated his wife. I'm still hoping this gets resolved better than in the canon story, or the racism at least adressed, but I'm low on hope in the moment, considering they kept everything so far the same

I love the kids on the street, all excited to climb on what is probably the first car they've ever seen. In just a bit of time they'll go on to hate those

The scene where the client tries to tempt Holmes with the promiss of money or fame is very well done. Jeremy Brett is acting Not Impressed and Unamused to be told what to do (TM) and it's awesome. Especially that little desmissive hand gesture when he points the client to a chair

Jeremy Brett is so pretty when he looks grave and concerned

Holmes: "What are your exact relations with miss Dunbar?" *uncomfortable silence* Client: "Well I suppose you are within your rights..." Holmes: "We would agree to suppose so" Haha, loving everything about this exchange. I'm not even sure if I can describe what Jeremy went for here, but gods, he nailed it. Somehow it's giving 'I'm laughing at you' and 'I'm irritated at you' and 'careful, I'm dangerous' all at the same time *goes on to watch the same scene 10 times*

*Client angrily storms out after Holmes accuses him of lying and doesn't come back* *Watson proposes they still engage on behalf of the governess* Ah, Granada does stir away from canon here, if I remember it well. Loved the scenes and the way the team reworked it

*client angrily sends them away from miss Dunbar* "I'll have you crushed for this, Holmes" Oooh they are really making the client more into the villain of this story. That is a good sign. I don't get why he gets a say into who visits her, however. Just because he was her employer?? That's fucked up. Oh wait, maybe it's because he pays for her defense?

I always love Granada's crime scene investigations, the one at Thor bridge is no exception

"Some of you rich man must be told that the world cannot be bribed into condoning your offences" There it is, the great line!

I'm getting gender envy from seeing the governess striding about the garden in her long skirt. I love those skirts. But I almost never wear them because you can't cycle in those, and being Dutch, being able to cycle is way more important than gender feelings

I love how once more it is Watson that helps Holmes figure it all out at the end

Watson after the demonstration: "My revolver, Holmes." Aww he looks and sounds so sad! Poor Watson

Watson, ever the romantic, wishes the client and miss Dunbar would marry. Holmes seems sceptical and I love him for that (I had to look up what magnanimous means)

I wish Granada would have just gone ahead and made mr Gibson - the known exploiter, harrasser and abuser - the murderer. But I understand that it would have been too great a change from the canon story, messing up the great reveal. It's such a shame though that they still went through with all the 'exotic, passionate, insane woman from Brazil in the sexy dress' stuff. That could so easily have been cut without losing major plot points. It already have been a more balanced representation if they would have made miss Dunbar a woman of colour too. I also would have liked it better if the client would have faced some actual consequences for his violent and hateful behaviour (though he certainly was thoroughly called out by Holmes). The episode is so well done otherwise

[theblinkserial]

Chapter 1

And there, there overhead, there, there, hung over Those thousands of white faces, those dazed eyes, There in the starless dark, the poise, the hover, There with vast wings across the cancelled skies, There in the sudden blackness, the black pall Of nothing, nothing, nothing — nothing at all.

-- Archibald MacLeish

Ryan knew the instant he opened his eyes that he was going to be fired.

The curtains covering the windows of his cramped living room no longer glowed with afternoon summer sunlight as they had when he stretched out on the couch for a quick power nap thirty minutes earlier. At least it was supposed to have been thirty minutes earlier, but naps had a funny way of turning into full blown sleep when you forgot to set your alarm.

Three months of unemployment had rewired Ryan’s brain into believing that naps were now a requirement, a necessary half-hour of downtime that kept him functioning through the blank pages of his days. More than that, he had come to see a nap as a vital step in what he considered his “creative process.” Before he would even start to rework another cover letter for another company that would send him another “Thank you for applying, but” email, Ryan would close the curtains to block out as much of the Texas sun as possible and set his alarm for thirty minutes. When the alarm sounded, he would arise a new man, refreshed and full of ideas for how to better present himself to potential employers. On good days he could see the perfect closing line printed out right there in his dream, Times New Roman font hanging in the air even when he opened his eyes.

But then he’d actually landed a job, and things had changed. Getting on at the Honey Grove Herald had been a godsend, make no mistake, but the disruption to his daily naps had been like kicking a bad drug habit. When noon rolled around each day Ryan found he couldn’t think straight, he became irritable, and when he finally dragged himself home at 4 in the evening all he wanted to do was curl up on the couch for a short nap–just a short one, ten minutes, fifteen max–but those evening naps almost always left him feeling worse instead of better. The golden hour of napping came and went each day after lunch while he was stuck staring bleary-eyed at a Word document, his third cup of burnt coffee no stronger than decaf in the face of his withdrawal. It was like his body knew exactly when it was time for his daily fix and, upon being denied its expected and necessary dose, promptly shut down all upstairs operations until it got its way. This lack of productivity in the office meant Ryan took most of his work home every day, where he could have a quick nap (ten minutes, I swear!) and then hammer out a whole article before the sun went down. Was it an efficient way to write an article? No. But it worked, and it had worked for the last three weeks he’d been employed.

Until today.

Ryan leapt up from the couch, his phone and TV remote flying across the room as he threw off his blanket. One of them, he wasn’t sure which, sounded like it exploded from the impact, but he didn’t have time to look. He turned on the corner lamp and straightened the pages fanned out on the coffee table, a lead ball of dread settling in his gut at how much work he had to do before tomorrow. Each sheet of printer paper had a keyword for his assigned article scrawled at the top, leaving him a whole lot of blank space to write out ideas and figure out where the story would lead him. Despite, or maybe because of, the extra hours of couch sleep Ryan had received, he still had no idea how to make this one work. The current assignment was an especially uninspiring writeup of a town council meeting from the day before, one involving tax cuts and spending budgets and a great deal of other lines less interesting than a play-by-play commentary of paint drying, but Ryan recognized it as a necessary rung on the ladder to becoming a real reporter. Everyone had to start somewhere, and even writing about the percentages of Honey Grove’s annual budget allocation was a step up from the handful of opinion pieces he’d written so far.

But oh, how he missed those opinion pieces now.

Ryan flipped open the manila folder containing the meeting’s minutes and began copying over important finance figures onto the appropriate blank page, wondering if it would be better to make a pot of coffee or just go lie down in the street and call it a night. Before he could decide, the passing sound of squealing tires came to him from outside, followed by a loud crash. Ryan looked up and froze, his ears dimly humming in the silence that followed. He waited to hear a car door open or another car pull up, anything to indicate that his assistance wasn’t needed and that he could get back to his article, but for several seconds he heard nothing at all. Then came the blare of a car horn that sounded like it was right outside the window, another long screech that grew louder instead of fading away, and then a metal KTHUNK that Ryan actually felt through the floor.

The lights went out half a second later, as did the A/C, refrigerator, and anything else plugged into a wall.

Ryan blinked, his eyes instinctively widening in an effort to distinguish light from the darkness that invaded his living room. All he managed to find was a thin strip of yellow that stood out like a highlighter mark on the floor beneath the window curtains, shadows drifting through it as people passed in front of headlights outside. Worry shifted to fear as Ryan rose to his feet and carefully approached the front door. What the hell was going on out there? Two accidents and a power outage? He debated whether or not to open his door, his mind filled with the openings of half a dozen zombie movies where scenes exactly like this happened, always just seconds before a horde of infected broke down the doors of everyone stupid enough to poke their heads outside, but he shook the thought away and reached for the door knob. Someone might actually need help out there. And anyway, a car crashing into a power pole was a bit more likely than an undead apocalypse unfolding at his doorstep.

A second thought, this one somewhat more realistic, crossed his mind and again stopped his hand from touching the doorknob. If a car had slammed into his street’s power pole hard enough to kill the power, didn’t that mean power lines were down? The crash had sounded like it was right in front of his house. He pictured sparking wires writhing madly at his doorstep like black snakes, waiting for him to touch the metal doorknob so they could inject their venom into his hand and fry his nervous system. Ryan gritted his teeth and grabbed the handle anyway, not wanting his nap-enhanced imagination to be the reason some poor soul bled to death in their car ten feet away.

There was no electrocution as the door swung inward, no electric serpents dancing at his welcome mat. There also were no zombies, he noted, which was good. The power outage was limited to his house alone, it seemed, as every other window along his street glowed with light from inside. He noted with a bit of inward humor that the zombie movies had gotten it right after all; all down the street people stood silhouetted in the door frames of every single home. If it had been zombies, well, there was no doubt about it. They’d all be dead.

Ryan turned his attention to the more important matter of the night: the three cars that weren’t where they should have been. The first (and arguably the most obvious) car had its front fender jammed a good foot into the wall of his bedroom. Smoke rose up from the crumpled hood where the car had taken out what Ryan guessed was his home’s connection to the powerline. A second and third car sat sideways on the road, fenders dented in what looked like a minor rear end collision. Ryan took in the scene and pieced together what had happened: Car A hits Car B, blocks the road, Car A tries to warn an approaching Car C with a horn blast but is a second too late, Car C swerves and skids into the corner of a house. Ryan’s house, because of all the other homes it could have hit, why would the universe allow any other to lose power? Wasn’t like he was busy or anything.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. The real problem would be getting his landlord to fix the new window his bedroom had suddenly gained.

Something about the crash bothered him, though. No one had been injured, at least not that Ryan could tell, but every face he looked at was turned in the same direction. That would have been expected if they had been turned toward the smoking cars, but not one person was looking at the crash. The people standing at their doors, a man straddling his bicycle on the sidewalk (the dumbass doesn’t even have a headlamp on, Ryan thought), even the people in the cars that had been in the crash, they were all looking in the same direction up over the rooftops. Ryan followed their gaze to a patch of empty night not unlike the rest of the sky above them, dark and rich and brimming with starlight, no full moon casting its haze into the night to spoil what must have been the most beautiful view of the Milky Way he had ever seen. His phone buzzed from inside but he ignored it, too caught up in the wonder of seeing the creamy brushstroke of the galaxy stretched out above him. It was a sight he hadn’t seen since he was a boy staring up from his childhood backyard outside of town, miles away from another porch light. There was also the awestruck, somewhat unsettling silence of the people around him, people who seemed fully hypnotized by the stars and unable to look away. Sure, the stars were bright and beautiful tonight, but that was nothing to wreck a car or two over, was it?

Ryan tore his gaze downward and started to ask a nearby woman what he had missed, if there had maybe been a meteor or fireball that had drawn everyone’s attention skyward, but before he opened his mouth the streetlight across from him hummed to life and cast a weak, orange-tinted glow down onto the sidewalk. As if following some unheard call to action, the next streetlight came on, then the next one, and the next, until the whole street began to glow under the dull red of warming bulbs.

That’s what was different, he thought, looking up as the stars appeared to lose some of their luster to the brightening street. The streetlights were off. Which didn’t make sense, as they were all automated by those little light sensors that detected when it got dark. Sometimes a good summer thunderstorm was enough to trigger them, but they were always on by 8 this time of year, 9 at the latest. Before he had time to consider this further, Ryan again heard the sound of his phone faintly buzzing from inside the house. He took another look at the fading stars before retreating back inside to see who was calling him.

Face down, his phone crawled across the linoleum with each burst of buzzing, but as Ryan reached down for it his hand froze. A floaty haze of unreality settled over him and for just a moment he was almost certain he was about to wake up from a dream. He must have still been on the couch napping safely in the land of logic where swerving cars didn’t target his house and people didn’t all stare silently up at the night sky, because the sound coming from his phone wasn’t his ringtone. It was the annoying, repetitive chirp he heard every single morning at 6AM before waking up for work. The same sound he also heard every afternoon right after his 4:30 nap.

It was his alarm.

Ryan picked up the phone and tapped STOP beneath a box informing him that it was in fact only 5PM, that his thirty minute nap was over now and he could start working on his article. Dazed, he drifted back to the doorway and joined the rest of the street—the rest of the entire Western Hemisphere—in staring up at the place the sun should have been but wasn’t.

[crackinglamb]

I posted 7,159 times in 2022

That's 1,391 more posts than 2021!

248 posts created (3%)

6,911 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lilbittymonster

@ir0n-angel

@sorrelchestnut

@pip-n-flinx

@bitterotter

I tagged 5,578 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#sound on - 774 posts

#always reblog - 349 posts

#*snort - 342 posts

#this - 310 posts

#cats - 245 posts

#no lies detected - 241 posts

#awesome art - 239 posts

#hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! - 210 posts

#solas - 151 posts

#lamb writes - 128 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#... & to all y'all that have to watch could have been better spent monies get pissed down the drain of an overblown funeral & coronation

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Til It Squeaks, a Series

Today, on the anniversary of its beginning, Da'Fen Carly Mayers Lavellan's story came to an end. Two years, 337,909 words, 7 works. So I thought I would put together a masterpost of the series, with links to AO3, for all of you.

Twist

The fic that started it all. Carly Mayers, a woman from Earth, gets transported to Thedas and becomes the Herald of Andraste. And she decides that canon needs a hammer. A Solavellan fix-it with a happy ending. Rated E for sexual content. Also contains canon typical violence. ~197K words.

The Cutting Room Floor

A snippet fic, full of little bits the main fic had no room for. Includes screenshots of the ensemble cast. Also includes 'deleted scenes' and versions of the first draft that never got off the ground. Rated T for occasional swearing, adult themes and canon typical violence. ~27K words.

Choice, Pride and Trust

A oneshot of Carly and Solas defeating Imshael at Suledin Keep. Rated M for graphic depictions of violence. ~2300 words.

Waiter, There's a Fluff In My Soup!

A multi-ship collection of prompt fills for Fluff-uary 2021. Pairings include Carly and Solas, Varric and Marian Hawke, Dorian and Iron Bull and more. Rated E for sexual content. ~28K words.

Twist Some More

A sequel to Twist. Carly and Solas continue their work rebuilding the Dales, taking down the Veil and having a surprise baby. Incorporates events from Tevinter Nights, but is overall self-indulgent and fluffy. Rated E for sexual content. ~67K words.

Earth Pizza and Qunari Street Food

Takes place four years after the events of TSM. Carly and Solas welcome Dorian and Iron Bull for a visit. Cooking and family fluff ensue. Rated T for some adult themes, but with a happy ending. ~4600 words.

Make It a Good One, Peaches

50 years post-canon, mortality affects Carly's inner circle. A final send off including the generation to follow that of the Inquisition. More sweet than bitter. Rated T for major character death. ~1700 words.

Thank you to everyone who has read these fics and come to love Carly as much as I do. My heart is full. 💕

18 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

#4

Six Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you! 💕

Tagging @about2dance, @a11sha11fade, @sinsbymanka, @mrscullensrutherford, @dreadfutures, @mogwaei and @espressocomfort. No pressure!

R&R grabbed the Muse this morning. Have some Lark Cadash in Skyhold.

---

Something had happened here, some cataclysm that broke the magic of this place. That sundered it.

The Veil.

What she felt under her fingertips and saw in her mind's eye was like the aftermath of a shockwave. A burst dam of energy, exploding outwards from a central point deeper in the bowels of the Stone. Traces of the spell lingered like a taste on the back of her tongue. She didn't recognize it, but felt like she should.

19 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

#3

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you!

Tagging @fiadhaisteach, @lilbittymonster, @sinsbymanka, @serial-chillr and @about2dance. No pressure!

It's Fluff-uary, folks. I am neck deep in somft and silly. Have a peek.

---

As often happened, a bolt of inspiration hit Varric while he was bathing. He gave a rueful sigh, wrapped himself in a towel and rushed to his desk without even bothering to swipe his dripping hair out of the way as he jotted down the idea before he lost it. He was never more grateful to Imogen than in that moment, since having his own suite meant having his own bathing chamber in it. He didn't have to traipse halfway across the keep to get back to his room, the mad gleam of words in his eyes. He didn't need that kind of blow to his reputation.

He got lost in the idea after a while, eventually snagging his reading glasses so he could see the page better. His hair stopped dripping onto his bare shoulders and he didn't even notice he was getting chilled sitting there in nothing more than a damp towel. He never heard the door open.

He certainly didn't hear the low, needy hum that Hawke made. If he had, he might have been warned.

Her sharp teeth sank into the ball of his shoulder and he jumped, thoroughly startled. “What the...Hawke!”

She cackled, leaning on the back of his chair. At least she'd bitten the off arm, so the only splotch on the page in front of him was his own fault. He glared at her over the rim of his glasses.

“Oh, your face! That's a weighty look, serrah.”

“What are you doing?”

She smiled at him, warm and loving and he almost melted. Almost. Then she spoke. “Haven't you ever just wanted to bite someone? You looked so delicious sitting there, I had to have a taste.”

Half his blood rushed southward. The rest seemed to have taken up residence in his cheeks. Either way, it left none for his brain and he gaped at her like an addled nug. He scrambled to find anything to say, anything at all.

“Andraste's flaming knickers,” was what came out. Hawke laughed again.

“No, I don't think I'd want to bite those.”

21 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

#2

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you!

Tagging @lilbittymonster, @natsora, @blueboxness-art, @whataboutbugs-art, @espressocomfort and @serial-chillr. No pressure!

While The Fluffs(tm) have been keeping me busy, I've still been working occasionally on new chapters for WG. I made myself very emotional with Cole's personal quest recently. And by emotional, I mean angry. I could rant forever (and will in the author's notes), but here, have a snippet.

---

“You!” Cole shouted, advancing on the man. “You killed me!” The Templar scoffed and tried to push him away, but Cole wouldn't be deterred. “You forgot. You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot, and I died in the dark!”

“The Spire?” the man replied. Imogen heard the others behind her.

“Cole, stop,” Solas commanded. The Templar took advantage of his hesitance and ran.

“Cole,” Imogen said gently, reaching out but not quite touching him. “He didn't kill you, he killed the human Cole. You came to him, as a spirit, to give him comfort at the end. He was not you, not the way you are now.”

“A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone. Guts gripping in the dark, dank. A captured apostate. They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him, and he starved to death.”

“Yes,” Imogen said. He turned to her, his watery blue eyes boring into hers with all the power a fully realized spirit possessed. “And you crossed the Veil to help. But you couldn't make food out of nothing, so all you could give him was yourself. Your compassion. You became him when he was gone. Cole.”

“Let me kill him back. I need to.”

Imogen cupped his face in her hands, the Anchor flaring against his skin as it touched the Fade within him. “No, baby. That won't help you.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You need to forgive him.”

“What?” Varric sputtered. “He can't just forgive the man who killed him!”

“You can't,” Solas said. “But Cole is a spirit. His nature works differently.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Imogen snapped. She focused back on Cole. “Make him forget, it will remove the ties that bind you together. You will remain you, and he will no longer carry the pain of his guilt. Can you feel it? Cole, concentrate. Can you feel his pain?”

“'Don't worry, we'll erase his records'. They clap him on the shoulder, smell of oiled metal and blood. They smile at him like Louis did when he made him drown the kittens...”

“Go to him Cole. Help him. He's in pain, and you are a spirit of Compassion.”

She let him go and watched as he disappeared down the path the Templar had run. Varric was staring at her like she'd fallen from the sky – always that look, she thought idly – while Solas looked at her more pensively. She wondered if he guessed that she'd taken his words and spoken them herself.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” Varric muttered.

21 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Dash did a thing.

55 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

NaNoWriMo 2023 Day 30: Herald At Dawn

***I'm doing half a nano (25k not 50k) cause I have too much other shit to do (school)***

Today's Word Count/Today's Goal Word Count: 629/625

Total Word Count: 25,004/25k

Goal Word Count: 25k

Snippet:

In his traditional fashion, Leo was sitting crossed legged on top of his desk. Alex was on a chair, elbow leaning on the desk next to her. James was across the semicircle from her, in the middle of what one would call the flat part if it was drawn out onto paper, where everyone could see him. It was, all in all, a fairly casual meeting. “Alright, folks,” he said, gathering the attention of everybody in the room. “We all know about the murders, yes?” Murmurs of assent came from the assembled flock of journalists.

Notes: ''assembled flock of journalists'' is a contender for my favorite sentence in this whole story, i think. also. it's done. well, no, its not, there is a hell of a lot of plot left to go, but you know. the goal is done. I did it. now imma go and finish my history project. see you in a couple days for a wrap up/whats next post (also, new writeblr intro coming soon, hopefully by christmas).

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @thelaughingstag @gr3y-heron @another-white-void @amethyst-aster

[mariacallous]

It was heralded by Le Monde in 1976 as “the first masterpiece of the feminine in the history of cinema”. Nearly 50 years later, Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles has become the first feature by a female film-maker to be named the “greatest film of all time” by Sight and Sound, the magazine of the British Film Institute (BFI).

Akerman’s 70s classic, which follows the meticulous daily routine of a middle-aged widow over the course of three days – including having sex with male clients for her own and her son’s subsistence – topped the decennial poll this year for the magazine, pushing Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo to second place and Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane to third.

The Belgian film-maker was 25 when she shot the experimental, groundbreaking film starring Delphine Seyrig in the main role, and it has since become a cult classic – provoking years of analysis and debate.

“Jeanne Dielman challenged the status quo when it was released in 1975 and continues to do so today,” said Mike Williams, the editor of the Sight and Sound, which has conducted the poll every decade since 1952.

“It’s a landmark feminist film, and its position at the top of the list is emblematic of better representation in the top 100 for women film-makers.”

Dielman leapfrogged from 36th place in 2012. Williams said the film’s success was a reminder that there was “a world of underseen and underappreciated gems out there to be discovered”, and he emphasised the importance of repertory cinemas and home entertainment distributors in spotlighting undervalued films.

In fourth place this year came Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story, while three new films have made it into the top 10, including Wong Kar-Wai’s In the Mood for Love in fifth place (up from 24th in 2012), Claire Denis’s Beau Travail at No 7 (up from 78th in 2012) and David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive in eighth place (up from 28th).

The survey was its most ambitious to date this year, with more than 1,600 of the most influential international film critics, academics, distributors, writers, curators, archivists and programmers voting – almost double the number of participants in 2012. It is an eagerly anticipated moment within the global film community, representing a litmus test for where film culture stands.

In 2012, Vertigo took the No 1 spot from Citizen Kane, which had held it for 50 years. That year, Jeanne Dielman and Beau Travail were the only female film-makers’ films in the top 100. But this year’s poll features 11 films by female film-makers in the top 100, and four in the top 20.

Furthermore, in 2012 there was one film by a Black film-maker listed in the top 100 – Djibril Diop Mambéty’s Touki Bouki, at No 93. In 2022 there are seven titles in the top 100 by prominent Black film-makers. Touki Bouki has climbed to 67th place, with new entries including Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing in 24th place, Barry Jenkins’ Academy award-winning Moonlight in joint 60th place, and Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Ousmane Sembène’s Black Girl jointly at No 95.

Jason Wood, the BFI’s executive director of public programmes and audiences, said: “As well as being a compelling list, one of the most important elements is that it shakes a fist at the established order. Canons should be challenged and interrogated and as part of the BFI’s remit to not only revisit film history but to also reframe it, it’s so satisfying to see a list that feels quite radical in its sense of diversity and inclusion.”

Laura Mulvey, a professor of film studies at Birkbeck, University of London, said the success of Jeanne Dielman – a film that closely adhered to the female perspective –signalled a shift in critical taste. “One might say that it felt as though there was a before and an after Jeanne Dielman, just as there had been a before and after Citizen Kane.”

Meanwhile, in a separate directors’ poll, a record 480 film-makers from around the world, including Jenkins, Martin Scorsese, Sofia Coppola, Bong Joon-ho , Lynne Ramsay and Mike Leigh, voted Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey the greatest film of all time. Citizen Kane was at No 2, and Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather was placed at No 3.

Sight and Sound’s top 20 greatest films of all time

1. Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (Chantal Akerman, 1975) 2. Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 3. Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) 4. Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) 5. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai, 2001) 6. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 7. Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1998) 8. Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001) 9. Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1929) 10. Singin’ in the Rain (Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly, 1951) 11. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (FW Murnau, 1927) 12. The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) 13. La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) 14. Cléo from 5 to 7 (Agnès Varda, 1962) 15. The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) 16. Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren and Alexander Hammid, 1943) 17. Close-Up (Abbas Kiarostami, 1989) 18. Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) 19. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) 20. Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)