the light of stars was in her hair

queer elves, personality systems, stubborn hope | occasionally nsfw | plural, transfem | violet_tides on ao3, liltalle.bsky.social on Bluesky, & liltalle on Dreamwidth

[anywhoozles]

[i-am-a-lonely-visitor]

share some wip!

i was tagged by @ettelene to share a scene and @maglors-anion-gap to share 6 sentences (thank you!!!!). instead of both of those here's...a bunch of setup plus a scene!!! hahaah. this is a hypothetical, gil-galad pov, post-canon marriage plot continuity fic that i started writing literally a year ago and may never get anywhere. releasing it into the wilds as i focus on other gil-galad projects ✌️

The problem is not that Elrond has come to Valinor.   It is beyond any doubt that the moment the Lord of Imladris set foot on the Undying Lands counts among the happiest in the two lives of Ereinion Gil-galad—both the one that had ended rather rudely in the shadow of Barad-dûr and its so-far somewhat banal sequel, which after a sojourn in Mandos began just as abruptly on the slopes of Taniquetil, bestowed unto an unmarred form.   Upon Elrond’s arrival on these shores, in his original and enduring body—the one which Ereinion knows quite intimately—the erstwhile High King of the Noldor was filled with an immense and nourishing gladness, and a breath of tremendous relief. For Elrond had survived, had kept his vigil over the world they loved when Ereinion no longer could; and is now reunited with Celebhîr, husband and beloved, who sailed so long and so sorrowfully before him to undertake his healing.   Bittersweetness lingers at the corners of Ereinion’s joy in welcoming his friend—for Elrond is sundered still from his children, and his lovely brow bears, at times, the weight of all the sufferings of the past Age—yet joy it remains.   Still, in spite of the gladness, all the grateful tears Ereinion has shed to the Theme for this reunion, the longer that the Ringbearers of Middle-earth settle into Valinorean residence—those who had borne the Three, and the One—the more the problem presents itself.   It is the way people look at Elrond.

Ereinion knows that look.   He can remember his own eyes being drawn, over and over, to the smallest details of Elrond’s person—the first time he’d truly noticed the mind-bending darkness of his herald’s hair, one morning over a working breakfast in Lindon, how bound with plain silver pins it was like a sheath of night sky caught between stars; how a single unkempt tendril—brushing Elrond’s amber cheekbone, bisecting his sea-grey eye—was nearly blue, nearly violet, nearly void.   Yes, Ereinion remembers confronting the puzzle and paradox of Elrond’s beauty, how this person who had come into the High King’s service professing to be half-formed, a confused, misshapen tangle of lineage and loss, had over the centuries slowly, nearly imperceptibly resolved himself; had reforged all that strange blood and circumstance into grace and strength, wisdom and kindness, all of Elrond’s admirable and very non-superficial qualities, which are nonetheless complemented by the fact that, in physical form, he is undeniably and utterly beguiling.   To put it in colloquial terms—of which Ereinion, having been a king of the people, is certainly capable—Elrond is an absolute smokeshow.     It would be one thing if when Ereinion’s erstwhile herald walked the main avenue of Tol Eressëa or Tirion the Amanyar and Returned peoples of these lands turned their heads in reverence or awe. To behold the visage of Lúthien herself ought to inspire only holy feelings; chaste approaches.   It is not so. People gawk at Elrond. If they are bold, they flirt with him, and with abandon.   Worse, though for many years as he emerged from the sorrowful trance of the Third Age of Middle-earth such advances had scarcely registered, Elrond has begun, of late, to notice the attention. To lavish in it.   He is starting to flirt back.

###

“Well?” Ereinion glances across the seaside pavilion. “Aren’t you going to intercede?   Celebhîr tips his glass to the busty Falmar bartender, appreciatively biting his lip.    “Intercede where, your highness?”   Ereinion hisses: “Over there!”   With an emphatic splash of his cordial he gestures towards the oceanside balustrade. There stands Elrond, shoulders bared, in the presence of…oh, Gods, is it Egalmoth? or Duilin? Who can say, no one brings his signature scimitar or longbow to a cocktail party—whoever it is, Elrond is standing before him, laughing very prettily, with one hand dangling a wineglass (men keep on bringing him drinks!) and the other twined around that errant ebony tress fallen from his braids, the very same that has been driving Ereinion mad for millennia.     The king—one always remains a king, even if no longer in the highest sense—licks sweet liquor from his wrist, and mutters:    “Your husband is flaunting himself in front of some Gondolindrim footnote—”      “Ah.” Celebhîr squints, then smiles fondly, resting his cane and substantive biceps back against the bar. “Having fun, is he?”   “Evidently.” Ereinion scoffs. “Look! Look at him touching his hair!”   Lifting a scar-crossed brow, Celebhîr takes another sip of his drink.

“Since when are you so invested in the sanctity of monogamous marriage? My marriage, by the way.”

[violetsbookshelf]

The Lost Art of Compulsory Figures

Before the world of Quad Jumps and Biellmann Spins, Compulsory Figures were the basis of figure skating. Demonstrating immense control and skating skills these ‘figures’ made up a significant portion of skaters final scores. However, as one of the International Skating Union’s (ISU) ‘modernisation’ tactics, these gradually became less significant before being phased out entirely in 1990. This has been controversial with many arguing that it has caused a decline in skating skills of singles skaters and a reduction in overall technique, with some even campaigning for their return. But what are these ‘Compulsory Figures’?

Prior to the 1890s, figure skating competitions consisted entirely of skaters etching patterns made up predominantly of circles and figures of eight into the ice using the only blades on one’s feet. These would be judged for accuracy and consistency. By the early 20th century a ‘Free Skate’ had been introduced, allowing for skaters to perform choreographed, artistic routines including jumps and spins. Compulsory Figures continued to make up 60% of a skaters final score.

Judges would closely scrutinise the shapes skaters had made. They’d examine the symmetry and accuracy of the circles as well as the consistency of the skaters repetition of the figures. The first judges handbook for Compulsory Figures was created by the ISU in 1961 and listed the judging criteria as the following: flow of movement, accuracy of shapes of both bodies and figures, deepness of edges, and any double tracks, scrapes or deviations from perfect circles. The Compulsory Figure sections of competitions were notoriously long and boring for audiences to watch, often taking up to 8 hours to complete with only skaters and judges being able to see the final figures before the ice was reserfaced.

Skaters were required to change their edge and foot as well as complete the three turn, counter turn, rocker turn, bracket turn, and loop in order to create the figure assigned. They would then have to repeat the figure multiple times in the same spot to demonstrate consistency.

The decline of importance for compulsory figure began in 1967 when they reduced in value to 40% and a Short Program valued at 20% was introduced to bridge the gap. From the mid 1960s and throughout the 1970s and 80s figure skating competitions began to be televised more frequently, however the Compulsory Figures portions were almost never shown in their entirety. Skaters such as Trixie Schuba of Austria was known as an incredibly strong skater of Compulsory Figures; her Free Skates, however, were extremely weak in comparison. To audiences watching from home and less aware of how Figure Skating was judged and scored didn’t understand how she was winning competitions. There were multiple instances similar to this, such as skaters being poor at Compulsory Figures but stronger program skaters yet rarely medalling.

Towards the end of the 1980s was when conversations surrounding the retirement of Compulsory Figures entirely significantly picked up traction. The ISU wished to make Figure Skating more enjoyable for those watching on television as well as the practicalities of filming the Compulsory Figures competitions. Attempts were made to film the competitions at the Olympic Games throughout the 1980s, however it required suspending cameras over the rink. Even with this complicated camera set up, the figures themselves were almost impossible to see on a television.

In 1988, the ISU voted for the elimination of Compulsory Figures for singles skaters beginning in the 1990/1991 season in ISU sanctioned international competitions. The last season of Compulsory Figures (1989/1990) saw only two competed for the entire season and make up just 20% of skaters scores. Most other countries eliminated figures with the ISU, however US Figure Skating continued to compete figures in their national championship up until 1999.

Compulsory Figures are truly a lost art which demonstrated the skill and technique of skaters. Most singles skaters in contemporary figure skating will have never completed one of these figures in their time of skating. Although Ice Dance saw the maintenance of the Compulsory Dance until 2010 and then the inclusion of Compulsory Pattern Dances in the Short/Rhythm Dance until 2022, with the Pattern Dance making a return in the 2026/2027 season, subsequently maintaining somewhat of a stronger basis of skating skills for skaters, this has not been the case for those competing in the singles discipline. A heavy focus on jumps has caused coaches and skaters to pay less attention to the technical fundamental skills previously associated with Compulsory Figures and still needed for other elements, such as Step Sequences, alongside good jump technique.

Compulsory Figures are unlikely to make a return to competition any time soon, however they should still be recognised as the origin and basis for what we know as figure skating today. A skaters ability to complete figures would still demonstrate their technical skating ability today.

[itsjesscapade]

[boobieteriat]

This website valorises libraries to an unnatural extent while hating open access and piracy

So strange, so annoying and so global north

[nyantara]

If you actually care about archival you have to know shadow libraries are actually the single biggest archives by a large margin.

[tpwrtrmnky]

The rhetorical strategies against trans women can be generalized to just a bunch of different implementations of "blame trans women for things that are done to them"

There's fetishisation of trans women arising from their position as marginalized women ending up in survival sex work? actually trans women's fault for being a sex thing

Trans women have their gender presentation policed heavily by gender clinics? How dare trans women reinforce gender stereotypes!

The position of trans women as vulnerable targets of patriarchal violence means they require access to support structures intended to protect women from said violence? This must be a scheme by the violent men actually.

Trans women are hesitant to participate in debates due to the extreme risk of mass harassment at the hands of the audience? Must be censorship. From the trans women.

Trans women rely on healthcare, which is funded by the exploitative structures of capitalism? This is on trans women. nobody else is to blame here.

[bienenkiste]

Givenchy Spring/Summer 1999 Couture

[chuunifox]

Autism Representation written by an allistic: My name is John Autism and I like the designated autistic interests

unintentionally autistic character written by the creator who hasn't really thought about whether or not theyre autistic: I wish I could be human like the way everyone else is but I know they can tell I'm not. And I know they're right

[tubapun]

Everybody was Sun Tzu Fighting (Riff Designed to Piss Off Your Enemies of Choleric Temperament)

[tubapun]

Visit Original Link

[satanfemme]

it's not enough to say "IP law doesn't prevent theft" (<- true) we must also stress that IP law enables and causes theft and then legally bars the original creators from using their creations, until corporations are mass producing the IP for immense profit while the original creators die in poverty (<- also very extremely true!!!)

[satanfemme]

like I could not care even a little bit about "IP theft". you can not steal a concept the way you can steal a car just by copying someone. that isn't a real thing you can do. I don't care about this.

but what I do care about is comic book writers dying broke and hungry while disney pumps out another $1billion military propaganda MCU film using their characters (labor they were payed comparatively nothing for).

what I care about is Gary Bowser paying nintendo 30% of his income for the rest of his life, just because he was pirating games.

IP law is not just some kind of hypothetical ideal. IP law is a law, and it hurts people in real material ways, while helping corporations further stuff their pockets.. if you support IP law, if you're some kind of pro-IP activist, you are perpetuating real harm that hurts real people while helping corporations gain more and more power. your motivations do not negate this. and if anything your motivations just make you look like a useful idiot.

[carnageandculture-deactivated20]

There's something magical about old pictures of stars

Andromeda Galaxy, 1925 Around The Pleiades, 1932 Cygnus Wall, 1910 North America Nebula, c. 1920

[mollyjames]

reworking an older character for my warmup this morning

[mollyjames]

[mollyjames]

thank you yes that's exactly correct

[mollyjames]

[dbaneofmyexistence]

Lestat's stutter

As a fellow individual living with stutter, I cannot appreciate enought the quality of representation the community is getting from how Lestat's character is written. The attention and care paid to portraying his stutter and the social trauma resulting from it deserve wider recognition. This includes, amongst other things, the fact that his stutter (in his case) is only present when:

he is in extreme distress or converses with people that wear him out/mock him regularly (contrary to popular belief, most of us don't stutter constantly, certain social situations can exacerbate the frequency of it. When we are with our close friends or family, it can happen that the stutter doesn’t show at all.)

pronouncing certain letter combinations or words (each of us usually has a set of trigger words that we try to substitute with synonyms) – stutter also not only manifests in repeating the first syllabil of a word, also can mean 'strained' pronouncination (not being able to 'get out the words at the right time', often accompanied by 'hissing' sounds).

in his childhood (the severity of stutter can fade over time, leaving most affected individuals with mild to light symptoms when they get older).

Sadly, this kind of basic emotional intelligence and sensitivity is not the norm in the entertainment industry, where mocking people who stutter is usually what we get. Happy to see this change.

[headspace-hotel]

Hey! I used to follow you and somehow lost track of you! It’s great to see how you’re doing now that I’ve stumbled back upon your blog. I have a question- when I followed you I remember you were really struggling with college. I am currently really, really struggling, and I was wondering if you have any advice, or found things that work for you? Or honestly just that there’s hope? Thanks <3

This past semester was the first semester where I didn't felt like I was dying all the time.

like, something was DRAMATICALLY different. I had the social stamina to hang out with friends and actually started making friends with my coworkers. No mental breakdowns. I wasn't walking around in agonized suffering anymore. At work I started leading events and actually being comfortable doing the public-facing parts of the job.

Something changed, but what?

So the weird thing is. I think it may have been. The Bucky Barnes fanfiction. I started posting it the day before classes started. I had been in the remotest pit of a depressive episode and as soon as I locked onto this writing project, I felt life return to my body.

Maybe having a creative project to pour myself into that was completely outside of the realm of college gave me the strength to continue. I felt a lot before like I was suffocating because my life had narrowed to this tiny sliver. It felt much better to have something important to me that wasn't part of college.

Or maybe putting the guy through The Horrors helped me to find catharsis with/process some of the shit that was passively hurting me in the day to day? Like, I don't know, I'm aware on some level that I bottled up and locked down my own traumas and horrors for a long time and it Affected Me, and I eventually found my way to, like...a craving to work some of that out creatively. I dunno, it's good. It really helps with the self-compassion thing.

I also took a yoga class, which was really good because it wasn't like an "exercise" class and like "pushing" yourself, but more about like...existing in and noticing your body and how all the parts work together, and where you're holding tension and kinda systematically wringing that out. Very good. Had a couple yoga videos though that triggered the absolute fuck out of me because of the "push through pain" kinda mindset. So be careful with that one.

I will say that some of it probably was building over time. Like. As much as the academic pursuits have beat me with hammers and crushed me with bricks, I have grown in a valuable way from the experience, in the sense that I have learned to just. Choose for myself what I want to give a fuck about. Not play along with the institution's incentives and pressures.

Like. It was almost a problem, but it wasn't? Instead of making rational judgments about whether I could afford to slack off, I slacked off because I just did not fucking care.

And the sense of "omg omg omg shit fuck shit there's a deadline I'm going to be late I have to turn this in aaaaauuughhg" feels very hard to let go of, because it seems to be the thing motivating you to meet those deadlines. It's the thing that keeps you safe from failure. And people will encourage you to hold onto it.

My mom would ask me, "Oh, when's your paper due" and I would be like "Yesterday," and she would be like "omg you have to get that done" and I would be like *shrug* and she would be like "you still have time to work on it tonight" and I would be like "I don't want to work on it tonight."

And it was fine. I made a B+ in the class, actually. If I had spent the weekend grinding to finish that paper as fast as possible it would have done nothing but make me exhausted. Nothing is as serious as you're supposed to feel like it is.

I feel serene, or maybe indomitable, because I do not feel the pressure the world applies to me anymore.

Last year, going through the worst and most grueling gauntlet of horrors, I was sitting there realizing that whatever happened, I was going to wake up tomorrow, in this body that keeps me alive and allows me to feel, in this world where everything is interesting. And if I didn't wake up tomorrow, well, it wouldn't be my problem anymore anyway.

Like...I was just an animal. A creature. I had days where I broke down consciousness to its atoms, noticing myself as a creature reacting to stimuli like I was a paramecium floating around in a drop of pond water. Colors! Light! Interest?? Mystery??? Snacks! Hunger! Snacks! Good! The constructions around me were very flimsy and fake, and pleasures and interesting things were real, and I would wander around just...doing what my body seemed to want to do. I thought of myself as a wildlife, fulfilling my biological needs, investigating novel stimuli.

Sometimes with the biological needs thing you really have to like, throw off all social and external expectations about what behaviors are allowable and go full creature mode to figure out what the fuck your body wants. Sometimes this means eating whatever the fuck you want, whether it seems like a meal or not, and eating it until you genuinely don't want to eat it anymore. Sometimes this means sleeping when you feel like sleeping and not waking up until your body says so. Lay on the floor, roll on the ground, pick a direction and walk as far as you can, run really really fast, sit in your room buck ass naked.

One day last month I legitimately fell asleep at like 5pm and when I woke up again it was 4:45am. I got dressed and went outside and went on a long walk, halfway across town, past the gas station and the apartment buildings, all the way to the pollinator garden at the park. It was dark and I was completely alone and I noticed how the stars became more visible even a short ways outside the lights of the town.

Another time I went downtown to the railroad tracks and decided the follow the railroad tracks as far as I could. I was wearing flip-flops so I got stabbed with a stick very nastily, but I walked over a mile and I passed through a tunnel under an old bridge with cool graffiti on it, and a drip of cold water from the ceiling of the tunnel landed on the back of my neck! and I kept going until I started leaving the town, and then backtracked and climbed through some scrubby bushes and trees and came out onto a small road where there were some kids playing basketball and they all stared at me, but I am unaffected by staring. And then eventually I found my way back to campus.

Like, the point of life is to live. Does that make any sense

[ecofutural]

white is the shroud color [Aredhel drabble]

Aredhel lives canon divergence, but make it worse because she's a kinslayer (maybe twice if you count alqualonde??)

cw: major character death of course because it's the silm

In a clearing of holin and white oak, aided by Amras, Aredhel lifts her son's body onto its funeral pyre. Already the followers of Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir have lit the fires for their slain lords and their companions. When Maedhros at last exhausts his search for Dior's twin sons, he comes upon her kneeling beside the flames that lick at her son's corpse. Maedhros falls to his knees beside her. Through the blue smoke-haze, Maglor keens a lament.

"I give you leave to go," Maedhros rasps out. "Indeed I wish you would." He had fought with Celegorm over her coming; wanted her to stay at Amon Ereb, but Celegorm would not forbid her, not when Menegroth held Maeglin as a hostage. Just as Aredhel could not have forbid Maeglin from his errand most necessary, for which he was uniquely shaped: to broker exchange of the Silmaril from the line of Luthien to the heirs of Feanor. Now he lays dead by the hand of his father's kin. By Nimloth, whose daughter had managed to escape their net but whose sons had not. "Am I not by some custom your law-sister?" Aredhel asks, dry-cheeked: the tears melted by the heat of the flame. "And even if I had wish to go, who would receive me? There is nowhere for you to send me." "Celegorm would--" "He is not the brother of whom I speak." Since the Nirnaeth, she has followed Celegorm and kept close to his side. She has not been in Maedhros's counsels, for he ever holds himself apart, even from kin. For a time she must have feared his temper, perilous as Thangorodrim. But she has sewn her own white cloak around her son as his burial shroud. Maeglin's father is dead, and so is Celegorm, who saved both Maeglin and Aredhel from him. Maedhros stares into the fire, unseeing, utterly still. Not once have they spoken of their shared loss. This is the closest Aredhel has come, and she has not even spoken Fingon's name aloud. "He would not have wanted me to lead you here," Maedhros says, "and I cannot guarantee the path ahead leads anywhere but into deeper Darkness, like the Oath that drives us." "I have already known woods and Elves far darker than these," Aredhel replies. Her fear of dark silhouettes congealing from beneath black-leafed boughs no longer holds any horror, nor does the path that Maedhros describes. For she is the White Lady of the Noldor, and white is the shroud color; the color of fiercest, brightest burning.

[spandexinspace]

I need everyone to know that the ship Götheborg, the world's largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship, answered a distress call the other day.

Imagine waiting for the coast guard or whatever to show up and instead a replica of 18th century merchant ship pulls up and tows you to the coast.

[foxgirlofficial]

pov: you’ve been transported to the 17th century

[uvradical]

#in the article it says that the sailboat sailors were concerned because they could not be towed quickly because of the kind of boat#so they asked Götheborg what type of ship they were and warned that they would not be able to go above a certain speed#and götheborg went ' we are also a sailboat. 50 meters length. no worries :) '#and the poor sailboat sailors were just like ' That's not possible. they have to be messing with us' and then the ship Rolled Up (via bunjywunjy)

[ms-demeanor]

I'm crying. Here's a photo of a sailor from the Götheborg watching over the little sailboat in tow:

From the story:

We repeatedly emphasized that we were aboard a small 8-meter sailboat, but the response was the same each time: "We are a 50-meter three-masted sailboat, and we offer our assistance in towing you to Paimpol." We were perplexed by the size difference between our two boats, as we feared being towed by a boat that was too large and at too fast a speed that could damage our boat. The arrival of the Götheborg on the scene was rapid and surprising, as we did not expect to see a merchant ship from the East India Company of the XVIII century. This moment was very strange, and we wondered if we were dreaming. Where were we? What time period was it? The Götheborg approached very close to us to throw the line and pass a large rope. The mooring went well, and our destinies were linked for very long hours, during which we shared the same radio frequency to communicate with each other. The crew of the Götheborg showed great professionalism and kindness towards us. They adapted their speed to the size of our boat and the weather conditions. We felt accompanied by very professional sailors. Every hour, the officer on duty of the Götheborg called us to ensure everything was going well.[...] This adventure, very real, was an incredible experience for us. We were extremely lucky to cross paths with the Götheborg by chance and especially to meet such a caring crew. Dear commander and crew of the Götheborg, your kindness, and generosity have shown that your ship is much more than just a boat. It embodies the noblest values of the sea, and we are honored to have had the chance to cross your path and benefit from your help.

"Our destinies were linked for very long hours" is just knocking me out.

[hawt-me33]

Coming into a fandom late

[baxterdamus-deactivated20130513]

Coming into a fandom early and watching it become an angry clusterfuck

[valorious]

Being in a dormant fandom that suddenly comes alive again after a new book/movie

[leatherpatches-deactivated20150]

Don’t forget about those who come in the midst of a fandom war. 

[fauxmoux]

Accuracy at its best

[street-of-mercy]

Being in a fandom and not even knowing there’s a war going on…

[my-reylo]

all of this shit…lol

[nerdsagainstfandomracism]

When You’re Not In The Fandom But You’re Nosy AF

[not-so-secret-nerd]

When you get into a fandom only to discover it’s dead

[jupiter235]

This gets better every time I see it. 

[sageblackrose95]

@fuboos-mess

[inverted-mind-inc-sideblog-deac]

Being in a dead fandom…

[illogicalarchive]

Or being in such a tiny fandom that it feels like youre the only one

[erilias]

The accuracy hurts.

[fanfic-yes-please]

Being in a fandom that had a shit ending.

[it-is-bugs]

When you’ve been fangirling long enough, you’ve experienced all of the above.

[sweetferalbaby]

Being in a fandom meant for kids.

[teaganvamp]

This just gets better..

[hamboj2]

@mi-kleos

[thatcrazysonicchick]

When you realize that joining the fandom has ruined you

[knightofbloodcancer]

Fandom hell in general

[morathavictoria]

Yes.

[marvelanimelover]

This^^^ just… ALL OF THIS.

[stop-talking-babe-deactivated20]

Being in so many fandoms that you don’t even know what’s going on

[raise-cain-archived]

THIS IS THE SKULDUGGERY FUCKING PLEASANT FANDOM IN ONE POST!!

[crochanblackbeak]

Trying to recruit people to your fandom

[kateriverameliawolfe]

Annnnnnndddd it’s back

[ishipwhatiship247]

Being in a fandom which has so many antis

[ravenhilarious]

I’ve probably reblogged this before, but that was before these great additions.

[swanqueen-author]

Being in a fandom that actually works together

[commanderunhingedmongoose]

Why is this so true? All of it.

[pillowprincesslexa]

being in a fanbase but all your mutuals suddenly turn into Kpop blogs

[hangingfire]

I always enjoy it when a good post comes around again and has been improved by the reblogs like the years for a fine wine.

[priory-of-stars]

Being in a fandom when shit goes down and everyone has different opinions

[marianagmt]

When you are in a fandom and don’t care for others people opinion…..even if they are right…(believe me, I have met several of those)

[batbyte-alghul]

Being in a fandom you never meant to join

[tirnel-sutcliff-spears]

I love this. and it’s gotten better

[cartoonjessie]

After abandoning a fandom you’re still a little bit emotionally invested in….

[brit-is-bookish]

All of these are me. Lol

[thehikingastronomer]

Being in a fandom on Tumblr

[julietsemophase]

And it reached its epic conclusion