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glitteryinknotes · 7 months

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This face haunts me.

Sebastian.

This poor sweet soul, no different than the unnamed "darling boy". The only difference between them being that when Astarion got to him - he didn't have it in himself to disobey his master's commands anymore.

Sebastian. His life, his joys, his innocence stolen from him. Who was he? Who did he wish to be? Who could have he become in his time? We will never know. He will never know.

This moment in Astarion's storyline hit me in the face unlike any other. More than the hug and the confession. Not only because this is the moment we truly see the abhorrence of our lover's past deeds, but because Sebastian is presented as someone we - as the Tav romancing Astarion - are supposed to relate to personally.

We may not be exactly the same. Astarion's goals may be different, we may not be as naive, circumstances might be different alltogether. We may be smarter, more powerful, more experienced, more careful, whoever you headcanon your Tav to be and how their relationship with Astarion looks like in detail.

But it doesn't change the bottom truth.

We are the same fools who acted with kindness, benevolence and trust when it made no sense to do so. We are the ones who extended our trust and affection without any solid reason to. It paid off in our case - Astarion eventually trusted us, opened himself to us, allowed the morality and conscience he still had in himself to guide him for once, and showed willingness to be a better person - but we didn't know that he would when we invited him to our neck, followed him into the forest and in the first place - invited someone who just threatened us with a knife to our party.

We are the same fools who came to love and trust someone - objectively - probably undeserving of genuine love and trust, as things were back then.

Sebastian is one of the few true innocents Astarion seduced. Not a street drunk, minor criminal, brother patron. Not a degenerate from the city's underbelly. He is the true face of the horror Cazadorr unleashed through his vampiric pawns. This is what we choose to look past, forgive and take upon ourselves as someone caring for Astarion. This is the responsibility we must bear, the burden on our conscience we must now live with. If we truly care for him - and wish to think about ourselves as a person of any morals or a kind heart (which is the type of person who, storywise, pushes Astarion to be better than he was as we first encountered him, better than he himself ever thought he could be) - this is the "burden" that comes with the man we believe in and choose to be with, who we choose to see as someone better than everyone else sees him).

The seven thousand ritual - bound souls are now our burden as well. Our responsibility.

I personally believe that the choice to seek & aid the spawns in the Underdark is the only right choice for Tav & Astarion's story conclusion. To deal with the consequences of our choices; for Astarion to prove (if only to himself) that he indeed "can be better" than the one who made him and creatures like him; to finish doing the right thing. Cazadorr's end is a pivotal moment for Astarion, but even more for all the other unfortunate enslaved souls. For him is the final, decisive step towards healing and growing, for them... It's entirely up to you.

You and Astarion have all the time you need, in his own words. You can travel the world, engage in every kind of delicious debauchery Faerun has to offer, find a way to reverse vampiric curse, settle down in luxury and enjoy each other, probably all of the above, but I myself have been convinced, since the moment I saw Sebastian that tthe spawns should come first.

Help them the best you can. Make sure they have any joy in their tragic unlife, community, guidance, stability, safety, future, if that's even possible. Find a better place for them to settle down than the Underdark. Possibilities are endless, nothing is impossible in a magic - filled realm like Faerun. If Astarion has been lucky enough - they deserve a chance as well. If Sebastian - and those like him - deserve a chance, so do the other seven thousand.

And then you can go and have every fun awaiting two people happily in love.

#astarion #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 sebastian #bg3 sebastian

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melonba11s · 2 months

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This Is You On Drugs (Strade/MC BTD fanfic)

Strade doesn’t like drugs because they can change the way someone acts… But what if he shows them later how they acted?

Contains: Drugging, Filmed Violence, Canon typical violence, blunt force mutilation, gore gender neutral MC, Strade.

Food and drink in Strades house were safe. Strade wasn’t the type to poison people, it was too quick and didn’t give him time to see any reactions he craved.

Drugs would change or inhibit how you reacted too much. He wanted you to be yourself. A true king of encouraging self love and confidence.

So food and drink was safe. Water from the filtered jug in the fridge was safe. The cheese was safe. The cut up bits of steak were safe.

You had no reason to not eat in his house. If you tried to starve yourself he’d eventually force you to eat.

So when you woke up in the middle of the afternoon with a pounding headache, dry mouth, and chronic dizziness you just had to believe you were sick.

You had to be really sick. That was why you couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, or even waking up in the morning. You must have slept through the night and well into the day.

Getting up was hard. Your legs felt like cement. But you needed water. Your mouth was so dry.

Stumbling down the hallway, groaning in pain the entire way. It felt like your head was detached from your body, floating on its own towards the kitchen.

The light of everything was too much. You were forced to shield your eyes just to make it to the kitchen, squinting so much your eyes were almost closed.

Actually closing your eyes as you opened the fridge as the cold air hit your face, along with the fluorescent bulb’s shine feeling more like a needle to your skull.

Reaching in, blind, but knowing where that water was, you curled your fingers around the plastic handle.

“Don’t drink that.” A sudden voice, the fridge was closed forcefully. You looked up at Strade, he had a smile on his face… Like he was in on some joke you didn’t get. You rubbed your eyes, frowning.

“I’m thirsty.” you said, a fact made obvious by how dry your voice sounded. A chuckle, and he was pressing something cold into your hands.

You looked down. Bottled water. He never bought bottled water. That’s what the filter on the jug was for.

You didn’t ask questions, you cracked it open and began to chug it. You had been really thirsty. You felt better with every gulp of water.

Strade kept his eyes on you, his grin widening the entire time.

“Feeling better?” he asked, as you finished off the bottle. You nodded.

“Head still hurts… I think I’m sick.” an arm around your shoulders,

“Bet you need some rest then, huh? Come on, sit on the couch with me. You can relax there while I show you something…” He was pushing you towards the living room, still grinning widely.

“Strade…” your voice came out in a whine. “Can’t you show me later? I’m tired…” nothing sounded better than crawling back into bed, maybe with another bottle of water or two.

“Oh come on, Schatzi.” He sounded almost hurt. “This won’t take long!”

You sighed, giving up. Nothing would convince him otherwise when he got pushy like this.

He was admittedly gentle with you, guiding you to the couch, sitting you down against the throw pillows after making sure he fluffed them up a bit.

The TV was on, but for now the screen was black. Strade got comfortable next to you, arm around you again, leaning against you. Despite how terrifying he was, his solid warm form was a comfort you indulged in without restraint. Loving how soft and comfortable it felt to be nestled against him.

He lifted the remote, and pressed play. The screen fizzled a bit, then the picture became clear.

The basement. You jerked in his grip. One of his homemade films.

You definitely couldn’t handle this kind of thing right now.

“Strade-“ You began to protest.

“Hush. Just watch.” he shushed you, smiling at the screen.

A woman was on the ground, slumped against the pole. The camera moved towards her, accompanied by footsteps. It hit you that Strade was actually holding the camera. He usually had it up on a tripod-

“Okay Schatzi! Are you ready?”

You couldn’t recognize the voice responding at first.

“Yeeeaaaahhhh” They dragged out the word, ending it with a bit of a giggle. “You sound like… an ant.” The camera moved over.

It was you. You were wavering on the spot, eyes unfocused. A silly smile plastered on your face.

“What?” the you that was sitting on the couch began to speak. No, that couldn’t be you. You would never stand like that, talk like that, hold a giant sledgehammer like that.

The woman on the floor was beginning to beg, scream, writhe in place.

The Strade behind the camera began to laugh, backing up a bit.

“Go ahead then! Just like I told you! It’s just a fun game, like the ones you play with Ren.”

You sat in fear, disbelief, as you lifted the sledgehammer and began to approach the woman on the floor.

“No.” You said as you began to lift the hammer up. The you on film didn’t hear you, or maybe they just didn’t care.

You could only watch in horror as the hammer came down.

Ankle shattering, skin ripping apart. No. You shouldn’t be strong enough to do that much damage. As the woman on the floor let out an ear piercing scream, blood splattering across the floor, staring at her mangled foot in horror.

“Stop!” You yelled, trying to get up, to turn off the TV. Strade kept a grip on you, his spare hand was unbuckling his belt.

“Don’t be like this, Schatzi.” His voice was in your ear. “You looked so happy, it was almost worth the price of the drugs.”

Drugs. Drugs that he hated. It made you stiff with fear.

Drugs that had altared you, made you not yourself. The kind of thing he never wanted.

You could only watch as the you that was apparently hopped up on some horrid mix began to lift the hammer again.

Kneecap was next, the sound of bone splintering, skin turning into ground beef, your stupid fucking voice continuing to giggle.

“That’s… funny…” The you on camera knelt down, shoving your fingers into the freshly destroyed leg. How easily they slid into the torn tendons and pulverized muscle.

You pulled out a shard of something. The gross sound of wet suction and the woman’s breath hitching between her screams made you want to vomit.

“Uh oh…” You sounded like a complete dunce, looking at the shard of bone in your hand. “I broke it…”

You seemed to be referring to the piece of patella in your palm, staring at it. You dropped it onto the floor, now looking at the camera (or perhaps Strade?) in dissapointed.

“I wanted… Something to give you.” The woman at your feet was breathing heavily. Strade was laughing.

“It’s okay, Schatzi. You’ve given me so much already.” He was cooing, and you hated how it made your slack face light up in a grin.

The woman on the ground seemed to find her voice now.

“YOU’RE A MONSTER.” She wasn’t looking at Strade. She was looking at you.

She was right.

“A SICK FUCK.” Your smile had dropped now, using the hand that wasn’t on the hammer to cover an ear. It made your heart pound, watching this.

The you on camera shaking your head as she continued to yell insults at you. It was comforting, knowing that even while not in your right state, you didn’t want to be called those things-

“SHUT UP.” The drugs were speaking. They had to be. “YOU’RE GIVING ME A HEADACHE.”

No, the drugs were. Realize that. You were begging yourself to realize that as the hammer rose again. The woman was still yelling.

“STOP.” The both of you yelled at the same time. You were frozen in place, but they weren’t. The hammer swung down.

Wet thump, horrid cracking, teeth coming loose. A scream of pain turning into a wet gargle as blood and muscle filled her throat.

Another swing, an eyeball popping open, the inside oozing all over her face as her skull caved in. There were no more screams.

Another swing. Brain exposed, flying from the safety of the cranium, hitting the wall and floor.

You were breathing heavily as you dropped the hammer. Legs shaking, hands twitching, you were looking down at yourself in horror.

“Oh no…” The you on camera said, before looking back at Strade. “I got… really dirty.”

Your front caked in shards of bone, blood, bits of gore and more. You doubled over on the couch, retching.

Strade was laughing next to you, laughing on camera. It echoed and bounced, it was everywhere.

You were dirty. You were filthy. You were diseased.

Strade had turned off the TV as you sat there, rocking back and forth, gagging and trying not to vomit.

“You put on a good show, Schatzi!” He sounded genuine, rubbing your back.

And you hated how it made you feel just a bit better right now.

#boyfriend to death #strade #btd fanfic #boyfriend to death fanfic #strade btd

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clockwayswrites · 8 months

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OKAY, so I have been rereading some of your stuff, as anyone with a wonderful taste does /j. And I got to the One Stop Soup Shop? I hope that titles right lmao; anyway. So rereading that, and I got to the part where Jason and Danny are talking right after Jason wakes up, right? And I managed to overlook it for the first few rereads but the conversation where Danny is explaining what he used to be and what Jason is now makes me think of a couple different theories on what Danny could be now? Because he's almost, or he is implying, he isn't a Halfa anymore.

So, Fascinating. And I have a couple theories on that? So; here they are,

My first thought was Danny is the ghost version of a liminal. Like the opposite of a liminal. Ghost with human traits, instead of a Human with ghostly traits.

My second one was that whoever had him/captured him basically forced him, either permanently or until something can be done ie with Frostbite the yeti doctor or some other means, into his Ghost form, unable to turn back into human/living form.

My third was that, on the basis that a halfas core is connected to their heart, they tore Danny's heart out from the core, Either by the Fentons misguided attempts at believing Phantom was hiding in their now dead-from-the-portal-opening boys body, so taking his heart out to both kill Phantom, seeing him as some kind of parasite now, and allow Danny to be laid to rest, or the GIW got him, saw it, was wishing to experiment on it, did so, and when Danny was escaping, he tried grabbing it, and the pieces wouldn't rejoin, having been apart for a little too long, leaving Danny as this Halfa Husk, almost but not quite. A Core with a human body but missing the most vital piece of being alive, a heart. So he's essentially stranded to be a ghost, unable to turn human without dying slowly, and painfully. Again.

.... As you can see, I am so normal about OSSS. Clearly. Lmao, anyway, yeah I have gone slightly insane but it is so good, it's worth it, honestly. I think i have said enough to last a thousand years about OSSS. But I will leave with the fact that I am so excited to go reread, and spin in my head with OSSS, LBFD and BWAO. Hope you've been taking care of yourself, all the writing and head thinking you've been doing, okay? Great writers must be kept happy or something like that

I had to sit down and reread the first fic of this just to make sure I was thinking right LOL which was enjoyable, so thank you for that. It's always nice to have a reason to reread my own work, even if it's at the cost of your sanity I suppose? ^_^;

Like most of my fics, I have the scaffolding but not necessarily the details. Bobi esp was written more on vibes than on a plan. That said, your third one is closest.

Spoilers, I guess lol

But Jazz talks Danny into revealing Phantom to their parents, who go the route of being convinced that Danny is dead and his corpse is just being puppeted by Phantom. And in their experimentation he tips from being balanced to being more dead. The details I don't know, though your idea of heart is chilling! Basically Danny has a 'living' form that breaths and bleeds and is solid, but it's only that way because he started as a halfa. Unlike before when he had to transform to use some of this powers, he's always basically more ghost than not and so can turn off any of that. And he's still alive in his unique way.

JLD would have a fit meeting him lol.

#askme answeryou #darlingclementines #one stop soup shop #dp x dc #dead on main

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minamorsart · 5 months

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Happy holidays to you 🎄🎁🌟❤️

*whispers* , who do you think deserves better

Lotor or Ben Solo/Kylo Ren

First of all: thank you so much! Happy Holidays to you, too!! I hope you are enjoying this holiday season with your loved ones 🎄🎀☃️💖

And second of all: NOOOO Anon how could you make me choose??! 😭😂😂

My gut reaction is to say both of them, but that's not really the answer we're looking for here, is it? Hehe. So I have tried to seriously consider this and provide a sincere answer to your question.

A quick heads up, I will be mentioning reylo and lotura here and there throughout this little essay!

The most fun part about comparing Ben and Lotor I think comes from the fact that these two are suuuuper similar to one another. I covered this a tiny bit in this ask where I talk about how protective the two of them are, but to reiterate:

Both Lotor and Ben are from sci-fi/fantasy franchises that were released around the same time, both have troubled relationships with their fathers, both are great swordsmen and pilots and engineers, both murdered their fathers, have complicated childhoods, rarely show their true faces to others, killed their dads, fell in love with fierce and powerful women, kissed said fierce and powerful women before shortly dying afterwards, said bye-bye to papa by doin a lil stabby stab, became intergalatic leaders of the most powerful empires in the universe -- oh, and did I mention daddy issues? You tend to find that a lot with long-haired emo boys from fiction. It's just the way it is. And for these two in particular you can also sprinkle in a little "mommy issues" just for funsies.

But in all seriousness, Lotor and Ben share a LOT in common, which is pretty crazy! So who deserves better, really? In order to make a fair judgment my first thought was to take into account their crimes and if they were able to redeem themselves in the end. But this is also fiction. As soon as people slap the label "toxic" on a character or ship, I usually tend to tune them out. This is by no means a hot take, but fiction is a form of escapism. It is a way for people to experience a thing (e.g. horror, adventure, romance) without actually having to experience it. So if we have a couple of sad boys who murder and manipulate people but also want to find love, who's gonna stop us from rooting for them? Absolutely no one!

I digress, but my point is that I usually don't care which character did what and why they're a bad person for it. But even then were Ben and Lotor really all that bad? After all, we learned from "The Rise of Kylo Ren" comics that Ben was ultimately not the one responsible for destroying Luke's Jedi school, and in TROS we found out that he was being manipulated by Palpatine the entire time.

For Lotor, we never really got a clear picture of what exactly he was doing with that Altean colony. To this day I still don't get it! In S6E6 he says, "Many Alteans perished in my quest to unlock the mysteries of quintessence." But then in S8E13 Allura says, "Lotor may have been misguided, but ultimately he wanted to preserve life." Like, what does any of that mean?? There are cracks in the armor, Anon! Cracks!!! Not to mention all of the theories with very convincing evidence that there were a ton of changes made to season 8, and unfortunately I don't think we're ever going to get a solid answer from the showrunners as to what was really supposed to happen.

In the end, the complicated and morally gray choices that Lotor and Ben made throughout their lives are what make their characters so interesting! They did the wrong things for what they believed to be the right reasons. If they didn't come across as the mysterious and devious fellas as they did when we first saw them, we wouldn't be such big fans of them. We would've chosen someone else 😉

So any bad deeds aside, maybe we oughta take a step back and do one last comparison. Most notably, comparing how they died. Ben died saving the person he loved, while Lotor died fighting the person he loved. I would have to argue that Lotor's death was far more gruesome and superfluous than Ben's. Not only did he go mad from all of the raw quintessence coursing through his body, but we find out in season 8 that his body had remained in his ship for three whole years, decayed and melted (seriously whose idea was it to share that imagery? I'm scarred for life) and left to sit there by his own mother.

Ben's passing was also deeply upsetting. I cried in the theater. But you can't deny that it was a peaceful one. From the way his body faded into nothingness, leaving beind only his clothes, the audience is able to assume that he became a Force Ghost (or did he? 🤔). He was battered and beaten, but he brought the woman he loved back to life, and in giving his life to her and helping her defeat Palpatine, he redeemed himself. And not only did he redeem himself, but he was also able to reconcile with both of his parents.

Lotor didn't get to do either of those things. He never got the chance. He was manipulated by both of his parents, and he never had the opportunity to redeem himself on his own terms. You know, for someone who directly influenced the entirety of season 8's plot, Lotor is hardly in it! I suppose he sort of redeemed himself, at least in Allura's eyes, but he was long gone by then. He wasn't around to see any of the stuff going on in season 8, stuff happening specifically FOR him because his mother wanted him back. In season 6 he went out like your average cartoon villain--dying because of his own hubris while the heroes looked on. In season 8 we only get: a flashback episode, him showing up in Allura's bedroom ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and him copied and pasted into the background as a ghost in the finale, almost like something is amiss in this scene (cracks in the armor, Anon!!!). UGH. You hate to see it.

But at the same time, I'm not too upset that Lotor died if I'm being completely honest with you. At least not anymore, anyway. Don't get me wrong, at the time I cried when his death was confirmed, and then I cried again when Allura died. But at least they get to be together in the afterlife. Ben had a lot going for him. He was only 30 years old when he died, and that's still very young. He could have had a long, happy life with Rey, and to truly redeem himself in the eyes of the resistance, could have devoted his time to restoring peace and order to the galaxy, as well as teach the new generation of Force-wielders alongside Rey.

Lotor, on the other hand, was 10,000 years old. The idea of having lived that long is not only unfathomable, but the fact that he probably spent most of that time being completely alone is just... really, really sad. If I were him I would have been ready to kick the bucket, too. I think the kindest thing to do for him at that point was to give him a peaceful, as well as justified, departure in the series finale. Allura had suffered as well. She had lost everything, just like him, so the two of them finding peace in the afterlife would be the most merciful conclusion, I believe.

Soooo I'm gonna cheat again with my answer 😂 Who deserves better? I would say BOTH of them deserve better, but in different ways. Ben Solo deserved to live, while Lotor deserved a better death.

Thank you so much for this question, Anon! I really had to think a lot about this one, and even though in the end I couldn't actually choose between the two, I still enjoyed coming up with this long-winded answer haha! If you have any further insights you would like to add, or if you even disagree with any of the things I've said, please don't hesitate to say so! I am always happy to discuss anything Ben or Lotor-related 😁 My love for these boys knows no bounds 💖

#asks #meta #lotor #kylo ren #ben solo #lotura #reylo

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daintydoie · 2 years

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i've got an idea

pairing: none (gen)

wc: 1.9k || oneshot

tags: spidermark, mark lee as spiderman, ncit sharehouse, johnjae nerd himbos

language: english

excerpt

It’s a normal day at the NCIT sharehouse.The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, everyone’s getting their lunch and cramming assignments. Just like any other day.

Except for some reason Johnny and Jaehyun are hiding behind some plants, peeking through the leaves and watching Mark eat.

Doyoung, carrying a tray with snacks and iced coffee, stops in his tracks when he notices the two. What on Earth are they doing?

“Why are you-“

“Shhh!” Johnny shushes him.

Doyoung looks at Mark, then back at them. “Don’t tell me you guys still think Mark is-“

“Shhh!” Jaehyun does it this time.

“Can you stop interrupting me?!”

“Can’t you see the obvious?!” Johnny gestures towards Mark. “He has to be Spider-Man! You don’t believe us?!”

Doyoung looks around then leans closer towards them and whispers. “I’m half convinced he is, but either way, he’s a busy guy. Maybe you should leave him alone. What other proof do you have?”

“We literally found the mask in his bag! How is that not solid proof?!” Johnny whispers loudly.

“It is! But have you ever seen him take it off?!”

Johnny hesitates a bit. He’s never even seen Spider-man with his own eyes, let alone see him reveal even a sliver of his identity.

Doyoung takes a deep sigh. “I don’t know what you guys are doing, but you should eat already.”

Out of nowhere, Jaehyun rushes and smacks Doyoung’s tray upwards, sending his food and coffee flying across the common room. Before Doyoung could scold him, Mark sees the tray and speedily gets out of his seat. He grabs the tray and somehow manages to catch Doyoung’s food and drink without anything spilling. Everyone stops and stares, astounded at Mark’s reflexes. As if it was natural.

“Dude, what happened?” Mark just laughs and hands Doyoung his tray. “Did you trip or something? How did everything just go flying?”

Doyoung stands still, mouth agape. “I, don’t know either Mark, but thank you.”

“Alright, just uh, be careful next time.” He pats Doyoung’s shoulder and heads off to grab another drink. Doyoung stays in his place and looks back at Johnny and Jaehyun, their faces screaming ‘We told you so!’

Although Doyoung is confused, he finally settles down at the table with the rest of the members.

Meanwhile, Johnny and Jaehyun face each other. “You saw that right? He caught everything perfectly.” Jaehyun says, his eyes wide from the scene he caused.

“There’s no way he isn’t Spider-man! There’s too much evidence!” Johnny checks if Mark is near, but no sight of him yet. “But Doyoung might be right. Maybe the only way we can know for sure is if…” He trails off.

He goes silent for a concerning amount of time. Jaehyun taps him on the shoulder. “Dude, you didn’t finish.”

All of a sudden, Johnny’s eyes widen and he grabs Jaehyun by the shoulders. “Dude! I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” “An idea!”

“Really?! What is it?!”

“It’s the best idea, that’s what!”

“Tell me!”

Johnny leans in and whispers softly into Jaehyun’s ear.

“…I am so hungry man. We’ve been watching Mark for 30 minutes and I need something in my tummy to tell you.”

continue reading!

#read on ao3 #ao3 fanfic #nct mark #mark lee #mark as spiderman #spidermark #johnny suh #jeong jaehyun #nct johnny #nct jaehyun #nct 127 #nct fic

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shuriflurry · 10 months

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Season 1 of Owl House: complete. And it was fine. It was ok. It was 19 episodes of mostly wasted potential. But that's ok (I guess).

I really liked the 2nd to last episode, which is unfortunate in a way because it made me question even harder why the previous 17 episodes had been so bleh. It really feels like the creators were focusing on all the wrong aspects during this first season. This is gonna get long soooo....

The best example I can think of for how the team wasted time was by them needing to show us repeatedly that Willow gets bullied. Like, I understood that from the 3rd episode. I didn't need to be shown and have entire episodes about how Willow gets bullied. The subplot between Amity and Willow's past also felt unnecessary (Amity saying "I can't be friends with them. They're mean!" did make me go into an actual fit of hysterics though. God forbid Amity just be a nasty, feral demon child). I think one of the benefits of this being a Disney channel Y7 show is that viewers can pick up on little stereotypes and tropes to make inferences about character archetypes and such and get a feel for the characters without needing to be shown or told (and don't tell me kids can't do that. Children are not stupid). Which isn't to say that means they should have removed ALL backstory. It just means IMO that the back stories they focused on really didn't add to the greater story and instead seemed to exist as a way to purge Amity of any wrongdoing.

I didn't mind Lilith's role in the season, but I found her motivations to be muddy and the timeline didn't seem to make much sense. I also found it hard to believe she was forgiven that easily for what she had done. I don't hate Lilith, and I 100% see what they were going for, but I think it needed a bit more time on the writing table/it needed to be mentioned earlier.

Like, instead of Eda learning Lilith is the reason she's cursed, get mad at her, then forgive her in the course of like one week (being generous), have Eda have learned about it years ago. Have Eda be festering in her anger for what her sister did while also missing her terribly. Have Lilith be trying to fix it the only way she knows how to (I'm blatantly ignoring the pain sharing spell because it's dumb). And have them finally make up at the end when the one thing Eda was convinced Lilith would never do - betray the Emperor - is exactly what she does and it's only then they can fix their relationship.

Speaking of the Emperor: I'm into that funky dude. I liked his little chair (both of them!). I liked that he had a cool room. LOVED the beating heart over him. Liked the thought of him dealing with elementary school children in his house. He seems threatening? He has a cool blue eye. Willing to do public executions. All good things IMO. My only complaint is that he was such a non-entity for every other episode this season.

I think it would have been really cool to drop little hints about him throughout the earlier episodes, but because we see the world through the eyes of Luz it gets brushed off/not addressed. For example, statues of him in the background, or the book King was reading in the finale on a table during the library episode. Just anything so when he does finally appear it means something lmao.

These thoughts are very disjointed and I'm sorry if they don't make sense. But I also feel like that's the best way to summarize my feelings towards The Owl House season 1. It was disjointed. It was sloppy. It went off on unnecessary tangents. It had plots that seemed interesting and then made no sense or got dropped.

I still love Amity even though she is already starting to be a shell of her former self. I like Belos even though I know he turns out to be one big nothing burger. But even still, I'm tentatively positive Season 2 will be more solid.

#personal #the owl house criticism #the owl house #i never know how to tag these #but anyways this is a rambling mess of thoughts good luck navigating it #as always justice for amity #she deserves better

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quordleona03 · 1 month

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20, 23, 31 :3

20: Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Religion. I have been a convinced atheist since I was a teenager . (Intensive reading of the Bible and other myths will do that to you.) But I am fascinated by religion - by the stories people live by and the faiths they hold to against all reason. I invented an entire Cardassian religion for the sake of having a devout Cardassian discuss her faith with Jean-Luc Picard, who was (at least in my headcanon) brought up Catholic.

For quite a while I was also consistently interested in slavery - find me a universe, I'd write a slave-story fic in it. Sometimes I combined this with writing about religion. (MirrorMASH - especially A Hawk Through the Mirror - and A Good Job, are both technically examples of this.)

I love dialogue. My favourite thing about stories is usually when you get two or more people together and they're talking and it's so intense the reader doesn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream.

23: Best writing advice for other writers?

Avoid glaucoma. No, seriously, the usual: you have to actually sit down and write that shitty first draft in order to get the story done. You don't need to show the rotten first draft to anyone til you make it better, but the only way to make it better is to write that crappy first version. A lot of writing advice is situational and personal. What works for me is to write something, anything, at least 750 words a day, just to keep my writing muscles energised. It helps to read a lot, to plan my stories out, to spend a lot of time thinking about my characters in situations that don't appear in the story, just so I know how they move and act and think and speak. But the one thing that is universal, I believe, is just that: write that bogging-awful unpublishable shamefully bad first draft - then polish. But you can't polish what isn't there.

31: Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Oh, characters. Definitely. Except when I start with the plot. No, usually it's the characters. But I get really interested in the characters when I think of plot for them. So really, it's both.

I launched into MirrorMASH and The Games, both of them, without having any clear idea of where the plot was going - I just knew I wanted to put those characters in this situation and see what happened. On the other hand, I started writing "All We Know" with a very clear idea of the plot - but I would never have begun writing it if I hadn't so badly wanted to go back and find Hawkeye and Mulcahy and make sure they were still happy ten years after "Goodbye, Farewell, Amen".

3: Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Those are two different things.

If I am writing a multi-chaptered story, I have the story planned out. I know what's going to happen in each chapter. I may not know in exact detail (though I may have a lot of exact detail written down) but I know the plot steps. I think of this as crossing a wide, deep, fast river by stepping stones. Out in the middle of the river, you're surrounded by chaos and muddle and danger, but you have each stone solid underfoot and the way across is clear. So I embark on the chapter knowing whose POV is telling the story, and knowing what has to happen in the chapter (though obviously surprises happen). I started Margaret's chapter for April in "All We Know" three times over until I got to a good starting point (Barbara, Sam's daughter, turned out to be the way in). While sometimes it can be difficult, the steps behind me are solid and the framework ahead of me is worked out and I just have to complete this step, and so I start writing. And sometimes people give me an idea for a story and I run with it. I wrote a lot of the MASH drabbles like that. And "Comrades " was written because Ajay wanted to see Hawkeye and Mulcahy trapped behind enemy lines. Generally speaking, a story from an idea someone else explicity gave me is going to be shorter and tamer. (But not always.) But a story that has no chapters, which I have just embarked on with characters in a situation and a sketchy plot - I am writing off into a white page of hope, buiding the story one sentence at a time. Sometimes doing this leads to writing a multi-chapter story when I realise this has got out of hand. Sometimes it just ends up being one very long story that I keep coming back to and coming back to until the story curls round and tells me "it's done". I got the idea for "Tuttle" like that: and the idea for "Crabapple Cove", and the idea for "For Ever" and - longer ago - "Friend and Stranger", and the whole MirrorTrek sequence. Sometimes I begin a story thinking, this is just a flashy idea, it's a one-shot, how many words can this take me to do - and then I look up and realise, my God, where am I. In the middle of the river, with no stepping stones, just a lot of chaotic water and the surety that if I can keep writing, carefully, thinking things through as I go, there will be an ending. I hope. That's the creative process. Story in search of an ending, for the love of words.

#ask game #ask quordle #why i write #how i write #my stories #writing #creative process #stepping stones #my fic #religion in fiction #slavery in fiction

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dracolichbitch · 10 months

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Thanks to @lucien-lachance for the tag!! I’m tagging @kettlequills @liches-covered-in-lich and @illumiera

Line from fic that makes you laugh

“Why do you wear that when you don’t believe in Akatosh?” A familiar voice from behind asked, and a large shadow cast over the book as the much taller Atmoran loomed over her, imposing as always without even trying to be. “It isn’t one of his traditional symbols after all.” Miraak noted before amending himself. “At least, not one of ours.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was to mock Nords and their wholehearted belief only one of them could be Dragonborn, and to rub it in their faces that a half elf is their supposed savior of Skyrim?” Jura asked, voice drier than a well during a drought as she closed the book in her hands, as she wasn’t learning from it anyway. There was more to learn from the elder Dragonborn, as there wasn’t any way to spend a couple thousand years in Apocrypha and not come out privy to arcane secrets the likes of which the scholars of Winterhold could only dream of.

Even though the College welcomed the walking encyclopedia with open arms, he still unnerved Jura, ironic considering she chose to work with him against Mora and brought him here to begin with.

“While that does sound like something you might claim, I do believe you would simply set them on fire if anyone dared speak a word of it in front of you.” Miraak stole the seat across from her, a hint of amusement in his voice, though with that mask on, it was impossible to decipher what he might really be thinking.

“Not in broad day light and not with witnesses.” Jura smiled cheerfully in sharp contrast to her words.

Line from fic that makes you sad

“What happens to me doesn’t matter.” Karashi repeated in the same broken whisper, shaking his head before resting his face in his hands once more, his shoulders shaking as he fought not to sob. “It doesn’t matter.” He repeated, over and over like a mantra, as if simple repetition would be enough to convince his brother, as if he could make him understand how he was feeling. But he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. Nothing would make his brother understand how it felt to have his beating heart freeze into a solid hunk of ice, only to be shattered into more pieces than stars in the sky or fish in the sea. How could he possibly make his brother understand that the fragments of his heart and soul had been reduced to nothing more than icy slush, unable to be reforged into anything useful any more than a tree reduced to ash could become whole again?

Frowning, Karentus rose to his feet, and forced the disgust back into his eyes, and it came easier than it should have to look at his brother, his only brother with such an expression. Family should be everything. It should come before everything. Blood over bonds, from now until the end of time. “What does then? What could matter more than you being cleansed, and returning home? Home to us? Me? Mother? Father?” He demanded desperately, slamming his hands on the table, losing his composure for the first time in decades, but he couldn’t wrap his head around his brother’s reasoning. His baby brother, who no longer cared what happened to him.

Karashi remained silent for what seemed to be an era, but when he spoke, he utter only two words. “She did.”

A line from your fic that you’re proud of

“Everything you think you are is fake, an elaborate lie forced upon you, false defilement etched into your mind and your body, from the frail mortal skin you wear to the meaningless name lesser beings have forced upon you. Something else, something godly lurks beneath the surface of your soul, you simply don’t remember it.” The dragon crooned as it landed on the crumbling stone wall of the village behind her, before lurching its head forward so that, as she turned slowly to face it, the same hazy look in her gold and crimson eyes, they were nearly nose to nose. “What I want, Viinaaz, is for you to peel back the lies you’ve been convinced were truth your entire life. What I want is for you to remember what you truly are, and who it is you live to serve.”

A line from you fic that could’ve been better

Would you be willing to find them for me? Farengar has mentioned you before. If I recall, you specialize in delving into ruins overrun with the undead. Is that correct?”

“It is.” Jura confirmed after a moment’s hesitation, before cocking her head to the side, allowing her hair to slip into her face, obscuring her eyes from view. “Though if you want me to go slogging through a crypt, I want to know what I’m supposed to be looking for first.”

The Jarl looked up at her in silence before closing his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping him, despite his clear efforts to hold it back. “If you choose to walk away, I would not blame you.” He stated lowly, looking at the polished stone floor between his feet before dragging his eyes back up to the mage in front of him.

“I never said I won’t do it, I said I want details before I agree to anything.” Jura kept her voice and gaze level as she looked the Jarl right in the eye, unlocking her fingers in favor crossing her arms. “I’m not the type to just look away and pretend I didn’t see anything.” She assured him, though the words felt wrong rolling off her tongue, like a lie steeped in honey to mask the bitter taste of poison, because even if she wasn’t lying through her teeth, her words weren’t true either.

A line that makes you want to punch a character

“Then what are you trying to say, Jura?”

“That people die every day and that while Helgen was a tragedy, we shouldn’t go around pretending that Skyrim isn’t crawling with all sorts of dangers. Wild animals, bandits, rogue mages.”

Of course that’s what this was about. Of course it was! Lysandra wasn’t even sure why she was surprised, but she’d hoped Jura wouldn’t bring it up when they both had bigger problems to worry about right now. “Oh for Talos’ sake, you’re still bitching about my magic?”

Jura’s fingers twitched, and a gold spark flickered between her fingertips before fading as she pointed towards her accusingly. “You’re a necromancer! Don’t pretend its something innocent and harmless!”

“Magic is magic! All that matters is why it’s used!” Lysandra protested before snapping back, “My necromancy is no different than your cavorting with Daedra.”

“It’s completely different!” Jura stated, mismatched eyes narrowing to dangerous gold and crimson slits. “Daedra are neither people, nor do they consider us as people, and summoning them doesn’t require them to fucking die. They can be summoned and bound without completely stripping them of personality and dignity. That’s completely different than killing people just so you can add their corpses to your arsenal of weapons.”

“You say that as if I go around slaughtering people in cities and flooding the streets with blood!” Lysandra scoffed, throwing her hands up incredulously, before crossing her arms. “They were just bandits! They might as well have been-”

“They were people!” Jura cut her off before she could finish her words, and she continued before she could recover from the interruption. “They were people with their own hopes and dreams, their own wishes and desires! You could’ve tossed a pacify spell at them and walked right on by, but you didn’t.” Jura took a deep breath, golden magic lighting up under her skin, as if the blood in her veins lit up with her anger. “You killed them, for no reason other than because you could.”

A line that makes you go awww

Isolde, however, was less than pleased that she was no longer the direct recipient of Miraak’s attention, and mewled in protest at being met with his back, except unlike when he’d directly gave her to Jura, the sounds she made were soft little squeaks, so, after sitting up slowly and stretching her tiny body, she hoisted herself up onto the pillow the dragons were sharing and made a point of curling up in between their faces.

Jura propped herself up on an elbow and raised an incredulous eyebrow at the kitten’s behaviour.

“Now that is going to be a problem.”

Miraak just laughed and shook his head at how the tables turned.

“Look who’s jealous now.”

A line that’s full of symbolism

I was told there would be a mortal to test, but I never dreamed it would be you.” It spat out to the side, a chunk of ice bigger than she was crashing into a pile of smoldering rubble. “Viinaaz. How low you have fallen.” The dragon declared as it turned its blade like eyes back to her. “You’re as low now as you once were high. Pitiful.” The dragon snarled. “Pathetic.”

It launched itself into the air through sheer strength, and the gusts of wind sent her staggering back, but Jura still didn’t take her eyes off the dragon as it circled in the sky above.

“I will give you a gift, even if you do not recognize it as such, and put you out of your misery.”

A ferocious snarl ripped from Jura’s lips as she charged a dual cast Incinerate, aiming it at the dragon as it flew by overhead, but kept the blazing magic captured in her hands.

“Arrogant bastard!” She hissed, burning eyes tracking the dragons flight, watching, waiting, looking for an opportunity to strike. “You presume to be able to save my soul from misery?” She demanded, her blood rushing like fire through her veins as magic mixed with her blood, blossoming into a heat almost too much to bear. The fire wanted out. The fire wanted free. The fire wanted to burn, to destroy, to reduce those wings to ash and to char that dragon to the bone. The fire wanted to burn.

“Give your soul to me!” The dragon shrieked as it dove down towards her, mouth agape and rows of glittering ivory fangs glistened with blood and saliva in the light of the setting sun.

“Not today!”

Jura gave into her fire, her magic, her heart’s desires and relinquished her control on the spell, the blaze shooting across the sky in a burst of golden arcane energy and light and sailing right into the outstretched, gaping maw of the dragon.

A line that contains an Easter egg

Jura scoffed before slowly raising an eyebrow as she looked around the necromancer’s haphazardly strung together laboratory, taking in the various apparatuses strewn around the cave, balanced precariously on rickety wooden tables, bones and other body parts she didn’t want to identify laid out almost reverently on what appeared to be an altar. Nestled along one of the walls were some rusted cages, bodies lining the bottoms of all of them, each one a cold, still corpse, save for one on top of the piles. The vibrant, sky blue glow surrounding the body like a cloak of light and snow gave away their attempts to cling to life with bloody claws and fangs.

Jura completely ignored the necromancer as she raked a critical eye over her “home,” until she decided she was done with judging the filth and it was only then that she finally brought her mismatched eyes back over to the fuming necromancer.

“My name is Jura Rhapsodos." She introduced herself politely, more polite than when she had spoken to the Jarl in Whiterun mere days before, though her tune twisted ever so vaguely as she asked, "You call this a house?” before shaking her head with an incredulous smile. “I absolutely must meet your interior decorator because I am so impressed. They did an absolutely wonderful job.” Jura mocked, a cheery laugh on her lips as she spun her staff in a wide, slow circle with her fingertips, flames running down the blade and searing the stale air around her as the spinning only goaded them to burn brighter. Behind her back, her free hand carefully cradled a pulsing ball of pure light.

A line that’s shocking

Fine.” Lysandra scoffed and rolled her eyes. “The only logical explanation for what’s going on is that you’re losing your mind. The only way any of what you’re claiming could be true is if you’re Dragonborn, which you’re not, because you’re not a Nord, you’re not even half a Nord. You’re-” Lysandra bit her tongue, her voice trailing off.

“I’m what, Lysandra?” Jura snarled, roughly popping her fingers as she fought the urge to swing. “Go on! Say it! You might as well finish the sentence. We both know what you’re thinking!” She demanded.

Lysandra only remained silent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jura spat in disgust, walking around her. “For as proud as you are for being a “true” Nord, you have more in common with the Thalmor than I do.”

Lysandra spun on her heel and grabbed Jura’s wrist, pulling her back to face her with a hard look in her eyes. “How dare you, stooping to petty insults simply because you’re wrong and you know it? You owe me an apology.” She demanded, indignation dripping from her voice like venom from a viper’s fangs.

“I owe you nothing.” Gold clashed with silver as the mages glared at each other, only to be broken with no victor as Jura pulled her arm out of her grasp. “The next time you lay a hand on me will be the last time that you have hands. Consider this your only warning.”

A line you want to talk about more

Be at peace, Dragonborn. Azura herself showed me visions of your coming, and I assure you, that neither her nor I are your enemies. We possess no malicious intentions for you, though I cannot say that the other Lords can truthfully lay claim to the same words.” The woman was quick to assure her, pulling her hood down slowly to show her face, and she offered her a warm, gentle smile. The Dunmer woman looked young, no older than herself, but Jura knew full well that could mean she was a few decades old, or she could be centuries. Her face was only beginning to show the signs of age, but she bore no scars, not even around the empty hole where one of her eyes were missing.

“What happened to your eye?” Jura found herself asking, more out of curiosity than any actual care, and the only reason she was interested was due in part to her own missing eye, it led to her being curious as to why there seemed to be no external damage around the socket for this woman to have lost hers.

“All power comes with a price, as you well know. But I ask you, how does the sight of one eye compare in value to visions of the future? I know not, and I believe not even Azura could explain it even if she tried. At least, not in a way that we mortals are capable of understanding.” The woman answered with a bemused smile, as if she were used to this question and had answered it a thousand times, or if not that, like she’d expected her to ask it. “As a fellow who also sacrificed their sight in exchange for a different kind, I assume you understand.”

Jura smiled bitterly before shaking her head, her hood sliding down from atop her head to rest against her shoulders from the motion.

“No, you were more fortunate than I, I’m afraid. Sacrifice must be made willingly, otherwise, it is simply loss.” She raked her gloved fingers through her bangs, brushing the snow beginning to dust her hair from it, and her hair back out of her face. “I simply made the most of my situation, in the best way that I knew how.”

#tag games #oc: jura rhapsodos #my writing

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rphelperblog · 2 years

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The Night Circus Book Quote Rp Meme

inspired by @tricohven based on the book by the same name- feel free to edit quotes or change pronouns for rp purposes

“The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.”

“People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see.”

“The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.”

"This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Look around you,

“Is magic not enough to live for?"

“People are naive about such things, and they would rather write them off as evil than attempt to understand them. An unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.”

“Trespassers will be exsanguinated.”

“I believe you have my umbrella"

“Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flawed stones.”

"You appear the same way to me, so which of us is real?”

“You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.”

'There may be decisions to make and surprises in store. Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that

“That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.”

“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it.”

“Wine is bottled poetry.”

“I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work.”

“I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?”

“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held.”

“...have a theory that she is in love with the dream of someone and not an actual person.”

“Nothing's impossible,"

“It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you.”

“And there are really never endings, happy or otherwise.”

“Timing is a sensitive thing.”

"Love is fickle and fleeting.It is rarely a solid foundation for decisions to be made upon, in any game.”

“Most maidens are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves in my experience, at least the ones worth something, in any case.”

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”

“Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that.”

“We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams around from place to place.”

“But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.”

“I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.”

“You're in the right place at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that's enough.”

“I would have written you, myself, if I could put down in words everything I want to say to you. A sea of ink would not be enough.' 'But you built me dreams instead.”

“The most difficult thing to read is time. Maybe because it changes so many things.”

“Good and evil are a great deal more complex than a princess and a dragon . . . is not the dragon the hero of his own story?”

People don’t pay much attention to anything unless you give them reason to”

“I made a wish on this tree years ago,"

“I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.”

"But I remember the people who look at me the way you do."

"As though they cannot decide if they are afraid of me or they want to kiss me."

“I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.”

“Everything I have done, every change I have made to that circus, every impossible feat and astounding sight, I have done for her.”

“The truest tales require time and familiarity to become what they are.”

“I think looking forward will be better than looking back.”

“I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.”

“We must put effort and energy into anything we wish to change.”

“I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.”

“But you built me dreams instead.”

“I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.

“I don't think there's anything wrong being a dreamer.”

"I think I made an analogy about cake."

"Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?”

"you are not destined or chosen. I wish I could tell you that you were if that would make it easier, but it is not true. You are in the right place, at the right time, and you care enough to do what needs to be done. Sometimes that is enough.”

“It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the midst of it,It is too familiar. Too comfortable.”

“You prefer not to see the gears of the clock, as to better tell time.”

“You need to understand your limitations so you can overcome them.”

“And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.”

“Once they were librarians, but that is a subject they will only discuss if heavily intoxicated.”

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world”

“Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.”

“All empires fall eventually. It is the way of things.

“Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.”

“It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.”

“This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.”

“It is likely to make us think we are not caged. We cannot feel the bars unless we push against them.”

“So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.”

“A woman I should like to think I know rather well and a woman I had always considered a mystery, are in fact the same person.”

“Only the ship is made of books, its sails thousands of overlapping pages, and the sea it floats upon is dark black ink.”

“Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.”

“You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.”

“I am tired of trying to hold things together that cannot be held. Trying to control what cannot be controlled. I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do.”

“If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.”

Unusual yet beautiful. Provocative while remaining elegant.”

“I am tired of denying myself what I want for fear of breaking things I cannot fix. They will break no matter what we do”

“Perhaps it is controlling the chaos within more than the chaos without.”

“The rain increases and umbrellas sprout like mushrooms amongst the graves.”

“Striving for uniqueness in a world of sameness”

"It is a long and complicated story."

“How are you managing to keep everyone from aging?”

“The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.

“Are we going to discuss whatever it is you are here to discuss instead of dancing around it?”

“I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.”

#erin morgenstern #the night circus #young adult books #literate roleplay #roleplay meme #ask meme #rp meme #memes #open to all #open to suggestions #Open to anything #open to anyone #open RP #open starter #open

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martianbugsbunny · 2 years

Text

OUAT Thoughts Pt.15--Episodes 10-11

I have watched through S2E11; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—The absolute cruelty of trying to convince me that Dr. Hopper was dead! I might never get over it *falls dramatically onto fainting couch*

—On the other hand, I now know that Dr. Hopper can bake. 🌟The more you know🌟

—In Storybrooke, Red wears fedoras, fingerless gloves, and vests. In the fairytale world, she wears lace blouses, corsets, and a cloak. Either way I’m happy.

—Pongo crying at Dr. Hopper’s funeral is below the belt. I hate it when dogs cry.

—Is Dr. Hopper going to get Pongo back? I mean, it’s sweet that Henry was deemed Custodian of the Dog, but Dr. Hopper might be lonely.

—I love how Rumplestiltskin has been wearing more crocodiley stuff lately, just to make sure we don’t forget.

—Mr. Gold being good with dog is a pleasant revelation.

—Red having wolf-to-dog communication (wolf-to-dog conversation) is awesome. I love when she uses her wolf abilities.

—Hook’s comment about the poor random sap Cora actually murdered having to look like Archie *contemptuously* was stupid. I’d much rather have a boyfriend who looks like Archie than one who looks like Hook. I mean, I’d like to believe I’d pick brain/heart content and personality over looks, in which case Archie stills wins by about fifty bajillion miles, but tbh I find Archie much cuter than Hook.

—I think one of my favorite things about Belle is that she’s intelligent. OG!Belle? Yeah, she reads, but that’s more a symbol of her different-ness than her brain power. This Belle, however, is a smart person, with solid deductive reasoning skills. She thinks outside or inside the box, whichever will get the job done best, and she only has one blind spot. (That would be Rumplestiltskin.)

—Speaking of which…I knew they weren’t going to have a happy ending. I deluded myself into thinking maybe she could break his curse in the fairytale world someday, but I didn’t really believe it. One of them was always going to end up dead (which I’m not ruling out yet) or amnesiac.

—I knew something would go wrong with THE LINE in this episode. Either Rump’s charm wouldn’t work on him, or a hawk would snatch the shawl off his neck, or there would be a time limit he didn’t anticipate. Basically the only thing I didn’t expect was Hook shooting Belle across THE LINE.

—Rump should’ve killed Hook when he had the chance. I may be a bit more sympathetic to Regina now, but Hook is one guy I will never have any pity for. Also, he’s pretty sleazy. A guy like that I would knee in the nuts without a second thought if he got as close to me as he does to every woman he encounters.

—Seriously, of all people, Belle is the most likely to groin-kick him, and she never got to. Bummer.

—I love, adore, cherish, exalt, laud, etc. Mulan and Belle’s dynamic together. Instead of pulling the standard, predictable crap and having Mulan refuse Belle’s help out of wounded pride or stubbornness, Mulan was like, “Girl, you are one good beast-tracker. Help a sister out?” *And then* Mulan is injured, and instead of pushing it so she could be the hero, she goes, “You got this, Belle. Here’s my sword.”

—They really had to double down on the Beauty and the Beast stories, didn’t they?

—The beastie was pretty fine. Kinda reminds me of Solgaleo (I went for Lunala, no surprise there, but Solgaleo is still cute as heck). I was kinda disappointed when it turned back into Prince Philip.

—Gepetto being sad at Dr. Hopper’s funeral was exactly the kind of angst I needed, but where is my Gepetto and Pinocchio reunion? This is getting ridiculous!

—ooooOOOOOoooo, an unknown person crashed their car into Hook! *bows down* Thank you, mysterious stranger!

—Henry calling Dr. Hopper just to hear his voicemail after his supposed death is too sad.

—Where has Regina got to? I’m assuming the only reason she wasn’t in episode 11 is because she and Cora are off somewhere planning evil things and practicing their evil laughs.

—There’s something interesting to me about the way Mr. Gold’s limp is depicted, but I don’t quite have the brain cells to actually figure it out at the moment. Suffice it to say, it’s not just *this guy has a disability, so he’s obviously weak* or *this guy has a disability, so the disability is his entire character*. We actually don’t even know the specifics of why Mr. Gold (and pre-Dark One Rumplestiltskin) limps. And needing a cane isn’t his entire character, either; nor is it a darkly decorated, scary showpiece to reinforce that he’s a bad guy. It’s just a mobility aid, which he occasionally uses as a weapon; this, in fact, shows it’s even an extra option for him (when traditional weapons don’t suffice). It’s intriguing, and I think very different from the way such a character trait might be treated in a lot of other media.

—I guess Rump will never find his son now. Yet another thing to be sad about. As if there weren’t more than enough already.

#once upon a time #ouat #dr. hopper #red riding hood #pongo #mr. gold #rumplestiltskin #belle #rumbelle #lmao not anymore #mulan #Captain Hook #Cora #regina #Henry #gepetto #martianbugsbunny reviews

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vines-of-ivy · 11 days

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A thing I’ve found difficult is the realisation that maybe I need to give Muay Thai a real break. An actual planned break. Because I keep stressing about not going when I can’t help the reason I haven’t been consistent this year. It’d be better if I just mentally said nah so I don’t feel guilt for keep telling myself I will go and then not doing it.

My reunion with my old friends was definitely needed. I think that it’s not just that I feel like I don’t get care from people often enough anymore, it’s that weight of the past and believing I spent all those years at uni around people who secretly hated me haunting my mind since I’ve been back in the city. Seeing old friends who I lived with and still adore and see how much they still adore me reminds me that I didn’t spend those years just convincing myself things were better than they were? If that makes any sense.

Those thoughts are probably why I can’t commit to Muay Thai anymore. I saw a Leo Skepi short and he verbalised exactly what it was I’ve been dealing with. Because why do I feel too tired and too busy to do the things I used to enjoy? Why do the easier things in life feel harder than the normal things? It’s because I was in stressful situations for so long and am still very hyperaroused. All the things I’ve had to do on my own since coming back to England - it’s had an effect on me even if it hasn’t been as extreme as it could be for others.

I can’t really ‘remember’ how I used to be when I first met these guys but talking to them brought out the best of my memories. I used to throw myself into everything and push past anything that looked like negative emotions just because I was at uni and I was gonna do everything while I had the chance. I was gonna drink all the booze, make all the friends, join all the clubs and I had massive FOMO about everything. I would cook elaborate meals and experiment while staying keto. I’d spend my time updating my wardrobe because I never had my own money to do it before. I was finally out of my parents’ house and wasn’t going to let my bereavement block my blessings. My uncle would be proud of me adopting his positivity. It kept me fit, involved and very popular.

But since the assault and the way a lot of people reacted toward me in my second year before COVID, I spiralled backwards, stopped showing up to things and gained a bunch of weight because I’d developed, not quite agoraphobia, but being stalked took its toll on my energy and self-assuredness. I never really got to heal from that and get used to being in the real world again because next thing I knew, I was in Japan.

I still haven’t gotten used to cooking for myself like I used to and have wasted to much money on apps because I feel exhausted. But now I can at least make sense of my exhaustion, I can learn what it actually means to prioritise myself again. And when I learn how to do that, I can go back to Muay Thai again and really enjoy it more.

I still love the guys and will go to social things until I feel better but I need to stop punishing myself for not showing up.

Instead of spending energy on things like that, I should go back to the foundation. I’m fat. Focus on losing the weight. I don’t cook anymore. Get back in the kitchen. My room’s always a mess. Put energy into your space. My skin looks bad? It doesn’t but you get the point. Without a solid base, I will fall apart easily.

#journal #Ive been staying s my grandma and she went to hospital when I was supposed to go this week lol #and I still felt bad #I need to focus in just being healthier in general

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pollardmartinez83 · 2 months

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whythehellnaut · 1 year

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Why’s Little Mermaid remake review

I know people love to hate the Disney live action remakes for one reason or another but I'm still willing to give them a chance if there's any probability that it'll be a quality experience. The new Little Mermaid follows suit with all of the remakes by being nowhere near as good as the original, but I think falls in the upper tier of them, as it has enough strengths to make it worthwhile and not all a soulless cash grab. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's definitely a cash grab that no one really asked for, but there's also effort put into it that I didn't see in remakes like Lion King and Beauty and the Beast. Ultimately it's a mixed bag but with a decently solid end product.

I should start with the performances, as that's the category that feels the most mixed to me. Halle Bailey gives a rather poor acting performance as Ariel in my opinion- she emotes enough in the first half but her lines feel half-hearted, or like she's focusing too much on sounding like Jodi Benson's voice without having a believable delivery. That said, she's clearly cast for her singing ability because her performance of Part of Your World is so amazing that it gave me chills on multiple occasions. I don't exaggerate when I say she is the closest you'll ever hear to Jodi Benson's performance from a musical standpoint. Javier Bardem was clearly cast for Triton because of his booming voice, however he phones in all of his lines and is totally lifeless. Bardem is a good actor, so I blame the director here. Melissa McCarthy as Ursula is fantastic casting and she's very much into the role, but she comes off as cheesy sometimes in her delivery, which, again, I have to blame the director for. Jonah Hauer-King as Eric is probably the best actor of all of them, as he was convincing throughout it, and gave life to a character that historically was forgotten as a side character.

As a musical, it succeeds pretty well, with some caveats. As I mentioned, Part of Your World is goddamn amazing and absolutely needs to be heard, but the other renditions aren't bad either. Daveed Diggs does pretty well as a singer for Sebastian's songs, and Poor Unfortunate Souls sounds pretty good, although I noticed McCarthy's lips didn't line up well for the lip-sync. The chef song was removed, but three new songs by Lin Manuel Miranda replace it. Eric gets a song that sounds pretty good, but is definitely shoehorned in, as nothing important to the plot happens during the song, and nothing would be lost with its removal. Ariel gets a second song, which is very welcome, as such a beautiful singing voice deserves more than just one iconic song- an issue I had with the original film. This one is solid as well, and is sung over Ariel's first encounter with humans on land, ending with a great moment that I won't spoil, but I'll say it invokes some positive emotions. The last one is Scuttle's song, sung by Awkwafina, and is pretty lousy, in my opinion, not just because her rapping voice sounds grating, especially in context, but it's the final song of the movie, meaning they pulled a "Frozen" by not having any showstoppers to follow the silly comic relief song, ending the film on an awkward note. The visuals for the songs range from wild, vibrant, and dynamic in Under the Sea, (which I think is an improvement from the original) to dark, dull, and lifeless in Poor Unfortunate Souls. The CGI is subpar, thanks to Disney's poor treatment of their visual effects department, but the cinematography often makes up for it with some great angles and camera movement, so, again, everything feels like a mixed bag.

I think my biggest complaint on the movie is a change they made to the second act, where they add an effect to Ariel's curse that makes her forget that she needs to receive a kiss from Eric. This results in a very underwhelming romance that lacks all of the charm of the original. Instead of smiling brightly and acting energetic around Eric, Ariel now seems mentally distant and simply absorbing knowledge of the surface world with slightly amused half-smiles. There's so much energy missing from this portrayal that even Sherri Stoner, the 1989 model for Ariel, exuded. It causes the romance to feel less genuine and more forced. Kiss the Girl comes off as more focused on convincing Eric to go for it simply because Ariel is too lethargic to try it herself, rather than getting through the nervousness. It's a little uncomfortable when you have the original for reference. That said, I do appreciate a few changes they made to the script, like leaving out Ariel complaining that, at 16, she's mature enough to get married, and having her learn from her mistake and become a hero later on, as those were two complaints many people had about the original.

Considering how many people are anti-Disney lately, I don't recommend this to everyone. While it can't compare to the animated version, it does just enough right to be serviceable and an enjoyable outing, but specifically for people who are huge Disney fans (not unlike myself) or who don't mind the money grubbing remakes coming out of their studio. I think there are enough positives here to make up for the low points, but I won't defend it as much as I do with the Aladdin remake, which I found to be a great film experience overall.

#movie review #little mermaid #the little mermaid

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

----------------------

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Mace Windu #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Jedha #Jedi #Phoenix Posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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stxleslyds · 2 years

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ive also stopped reading nightwing issues bc of all the same reasons uve posted lol.

u know those recommendation lists like "if you read book X, you might like Y" ? do u have any similar recommendations for fans of nightwing who are just tired of his recent runs? can be fanfic, old issues/ runs, other fandoms!

Hey there! How have you been doing?

It sucks that you have also stopped reading Nightwing, I think that the fact that many people have stopped investing their time in that run is very telling of both Tom Taylor’s writing and DC’s approach to Dick and Barbara as individual characters.

I hope better times (and comics) come our way!

As for recommendations, I have some in mind right now, I will list them down below!

Other Dick Grayson/Nightwing books I enjoy:

Future State: Nightwing

This book was pure bliss, two issues of competent Dick Grayson, leader of the resistance and the great comeback of his mechanic tendencies!

Outsiders vol.3

Dick is flawed, he is a shell of the person he used to be and is going through an immense rough time. This book shows us just how much the nickname “golden boy” doesn’t work for him at times. Dick is deep down still Dick but he also acts like a dick. Judd Winick makes him bearable thanks to the team by his side but most importantly thanks to Roy Harper who makes the perfect companion for Dick.

Nightwing vol.3 (New 52)

Alright, I know, New 52 was shit for the most part but I truly believe that Kyle Higgins did an amazing job with what he was given. His Dick/Nightwing was very sad and lonely but he was a beast, he was competent, an excellent fighter and extremely resilient when confronted with terrible upon terrible situations. To me this is a wonderful run if you pull it away from the whole New 52 narrative.

Batman: Gates of Gotham

They really popped off when DC gave us this beauty with Dick!Bats. The art and story are really worth anyone’s time. It is story heavy but it really gives us a look on what Dick was able to do as Batman even without his Robin. Detective heavy stuff.

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding: Nightwing vs. Hush

Now, this issue might have the advantage of Travis Moore’s ridiculously gorgeous art but the story is quite good too. We get a look at just how important Dick is, was and will be to Bruce and we also get some “unreliable narrator” vibes from Dick. If it was intended or not, I don’t know, but I can still appreciate it.

Nightwing: Old Friends, New Enemies.

Well, this one is on the list because it has the recompilation of “Cheshire’s Contact”. Those amazing issues in which Roy Harper trusts Dick only with getting his daughter back. Very enjoyable and a story that I would love to see made canon again.

Batman: Prodigal.

That’s a solid book, it is a good book to read if you want to see a bit of how Dick did in his first time as Batman and that time with Tim by his side. Not only are we offered Dick!Bats but we also get to see a more “domestic” side of him. Alfred left the Manor with Bruce so all the chores have to be done by Dick and it is always a good reminder for people who are convinced that Dick is a “human disaster” and cannot attend his own needs.

Nightwing vol.2 (#140 to #153)

Tomasi’s turn on that roller-coaster of a book was a good way to end it. He pushed Dick/Nightwing’s status up in every single way. Dick was a protector, leader, detective and so much more. His skillset and will to be (and become) better were always there. If you are looking for some BAMF Dick Grayson this is the place.

Other books that don’t have Dick Grayson:

Yeah, I can offer you some marvel… don’t know if that’s your cup of tea but check then out if you feel like it.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2020) #6

You could read the entire run (it is complete), it is honestly amazing. It is a team book so you won’t find many of the issues to be related to a single character. However, #6 offers an in depth look at Richard Rider (Nova). Richard is a leader, a team player and an excellent hero, but just like Dick he tends to put a lot over his shoulders and take the blame for things that maybe he shouldn’t. This issue is all about him and how he deals (or not) with his demons and everything else in his life.

Black Widow (2020)

This (ongoing) book is a masterpiece, Kelly Thompson is someone that sometimes misses me with her takes but ever since she took a hold of Nat, she has only made her more badass and interesting. This is an assassin heavy book, yes. But the villains and storytelling would really please some Nightwing readers. Dick and Nat don’t have much in common but I am sure that this book will be someone’s favourite either way.

Spider-Gwen/Ghost-Spider/Gwenom

This is me pushing Gwen Stacy as much as I can when I am given the chance. This book might not seem like it will match your average Nightwing connoisseur but there three separate books of Gwen’s life kinda give us the perspective of someone who might be like you and me and got powers. Gwen grows into the hero life and herself. The Spider-Gwen runs might be a bit too teenage heavy but it takes a turn once Ghost-Spider comes into place. Gwen is faced with more responsibilities, moving away from home (a whole ass different dimension) and then… Knull, 2021’s biggest Marvel Comics baddie. She is extremely fun and a bit too forward at times, it can certainly be a hit or miss but I would say that she is worth the try!

Dick Grayson Fics: I have to be sneaky; I will link here two asks in which I was asked about Jason Todd fics and I ended up recommending Dick fics that have Jason in them or “Dick and Jason are/were friends” because those fics make me weak and I just can’t help myself.

I will link the first one here! and the last one that I made here!

I hope you enjoy some (or all) these recommendations. I tried my best to remember some of my favourite Nightwing books, I got my notes back at home so I might be missing some. Maybe @hood-ex can help you out and rec amazing Dick/Nightwing books, she is my favourite Dick Grayson connoisseur!

Thank you for the ask, hope you have a lovely week!

#dick grayson #nightwing #fic rec #asksss

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