the hero of a thousand faces

Ways to un-stick a stuck story
  • Do an outline, whatever way works best. Get yourself out of the word soup and know where the story is headed.
  • Conflicts and obstacles. Hurt the protagonist, put things in their way, this keeps the story interesting. An easy journey makes the story boring and boring is hard to write.
  • Change the POV. Sometimes all it takes to untangle a knotted story is to look at it through different eyes, be it through the sidekick, the antagonist, a minor character, whatever.
  • Know the characters. You can’t write a story if the characters are strangers to you. Know their likes, dislikes, fears, and most importantly, their motivation. This makes the path clearer.
  • Fill in holes. Writing doesn’t have to be linear; you can always go back and fill in plotholes, and add content and context.
  • Have flashbacks, hallucinations, dream sequences or foreshadowing events. These stir the story up, deviations from the expected course add a feeling of urgency and uncertainty to the narrative.
  • Introduce a new mystery. If there’s something that just doesn’t add up, a big question mark, the story becomes more compelling. Beware: this can also cause you to sink further into the mire.
  • Take something from your protagonist. A weapon, asset, ally or loved one. Force him to operate without it, it can reinvigorate a stale story.
  • Twists and betrayal. Maybe someone isn’t who they say they are or the protagonist is betrayed by someone he thought he could trust. This can shake the story up and get it rolling again.
  • Secrets. If someone has a deep, dark secret that they’re forced to lie about, it’s a good way to stir up some fresh conflict. New lies to cover up the old ones, the secret being revealed, and all the resulting chaos.
  • Kill someone. Make a character death that is productive to the plot, but not “just because”. If done well, it affects all the characters, stirs up the story and gets it moving.
  • Ill-advised character actions. Tension is created when a character we love does something we hate. Identify the thing the readers don’t want to happen, then engineer it so it happens worse than they imagined.
  • Create cliff-hangers. Keep the readers’ attention by putting the characters into new problems and make them wait for you to write your way out of it. This challenge can really bring out your creativity.
  • Raise the stakes. Make the consequences of failure worse, make the journey harder. Suddenly the protagonist’s goal is more than he expected, or he has to make an important choice.
  • Make the hero active. You can’t always wait for external influences on the characters, sometimes you have to make the hero take actions himself. Not necessarily to be successful, but active and complicit in the narrative.
  • Different threat levels. Make the conflicts on a physical level (“I’m about to be killed by a demon”), an emotional level (“But that demon was my true love”) and a philosophical level (“If I’m forced to kill my true love before they kill me, how can love ever succeed in the face of evil?”).
  • Figure out an ending. If you know where the story is going to end, it helps get the ball rolling towards that end, even if it’s not the same ending that you actually end up writing.
  • What if? What if the hero kills the antagonist now, gets captured, or goes insane? When you write down different questions like these, the answer to how to continue the story will present itself.
  • Start fresh or skip ahead. Delete the last five thousand words and try again. It’s terrifying at first, but frees you up for a fresh start to find a proper path. Or you can skip the part that’s putting you on edge – forget about that fidgety crap, you can do it later – and write the next scene. Whatever was in-between will come with time.

A GUIDE FOR YOUNG LADIES ENTERING THE SERVICE OF THE FAIRIES, by Rosamund Hodge


I.

This is the lie they will use to break you: no one else has ever loved this way before.


II.

Choose wisely which court you serve. Light or Dark, Summer or Winter, Seelie or Unseelie: they have many names, but the pith of the choice is this: a poisoned flower or a knife in the dark?

(The difference is less and more than you might think.)

Of course, this is only if you go to them for the granting of a wish: to save your father, sister, lover, dearest friend. If you go to get someone back from them, or—most foolish of all—because you fell in love with one of them, you will have no choice at all. You must go to the ones that chose you.


III.

Be kind to the creature that guards your door. Do not mock its broken, bleeding face.

It will never help you in return. But I assure you, someday you will be glad to know that you were kind to something once.


IV.

Do not be surprised how many other mortal girls are there within the halls. The world is full of wishing and of wanting, and the fairies love to play with human hearts.

You will meet all kinds: the terrified ones, who used all their courage just getting there. The hopeful ones, who think that love or cleverness is enough to get them home. The angry ones, who see only one way out. The cold ones, who are already half-fairy.

I would tell you, Do not try to make friends with any of them, but you will anyway.


V.

Sooner or later (if you serve well, if you do not open the forbidden door and let the monster eat you), they will tell you about the game.

Summer battles Winter, Light battles Dark. This is the law of the world. And on the chessboard of the fairies, White battles Black.

In the glory of this battle, the pieces that are brave and strong may win their heart’s desire.


VI.

You already have forgotten how the mortal sun felt upon your face. You already know the bargain that brought you here was a lie.

If you came to save your sick mother, you fear she is dead already. If you came to free your captive sister, your fear she will be sent to Hell for the next tithe. If you came for love of an elf-knight, you are broken with wanting him, and yet he does not seem to know you.

Say yes.


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the standard response to someone on the net saying “i do not care for this fake space fascist or his feelings and i do not want to see him more than i absolutely must” should be “oh ok cool” and we should all leave our super condescending explanations of the hero with a thousand faces or whatever the hell out of it, because who gives a shit. oh you’ve read a tvtropes page in your life and now you know how Intelligent people watch movies good job

two men meet in a field. the first man says, “what is your name?” the second man say, “i am called Gamer.” the first man says “what do you do?” the second man says “i protect the galaxy. i defeat bowset. i am the hero with a thousand faces.” the first man says “i can do all that and more.” the secodn man asks “what is your name stranger?” the first man says, “i am called Blogger.”

Heroism

Heroism means to totally devote oneself to a great idea, to consume oneself like a torch in the flame of a mighty ideal, to see only one great ideal in sight and in mind and in marching step. Heroism is being stirred, obsessed, fulfilled with a very great task.

His own personality no longer plays a role for the hero. Desire and suffering, life and death, step back for him behind the tremendous obligation toward the work for which Providence has called him. Heroic deeds are done not out of ambition and egoism, rather out of ultimate selflessness, unselfishness and personal devotion. Infinite faith in work, calling and idea fill and give wings to the deeds and the bearing of the hero.

Heroism differentiates Itself from insanity, fantasy and senseless self-sacrifice.

In every age there have been people who, misled by false doctrines or driven by a hysterical disposition, were devoted to senseless and ineffective idols and fantasies and became pitiful, poor martyrs of life-alien religious teachings.

And there have been people who, above all, under the influence of the most diverse religions, viewed self-mutilation, unnatural castigations of the body and deadening of all natural forces as heroism.  

Genuine heroism lives in reality and reckons with reality. Genuine heroism is supported by the natural laws of life and grows from the infinitely deep soil of folk, homeland and family. Only in the framework of this divine order of creation can a genuine heroism exist. Only in the service of real life - created and wanted by God - can a person become a hero. And only this earthly reality connects the hero to the divine.

Man’s heroic, ultimate effort for life often takes place in a brand framework visible from afar.

But often heroism grows in all quietness and seclusion. Heroic women and mothers, heroic soldiers and heroic workers are at work by the thousands in large cities and small villages, on all life’s battlegrounds and in all the folk’s workplaces.

The great heroes often awaken hundreds of thousands, yes, millions of people within a folk and pull them along to victorious charges and ultimate effort. Like shining torches, they often being life, movement and glow into a dark night. Fortune is the folk for whom in every age, but above all in difficult hours, heroes arise.

Not everyone is selected by Providence for this radiant heroism.

But everyone can brighten and encourage his small surroundings as a quiet hero of daily life, save them from exhaustion numbness, and lead them to a victorious life.

In a folk’s hours of decision and in the peaceful periods of confirmation, these quiet heroes are no less important than the great heroic figures. These quiet heroes hold the front together, always give new strength, again and again bring light and joy. They create calm where agitation threatens to cause damage and bring motion where a stoppage could mean danger. Hundreds of thousands of people owe it to the silent working of an unknown hero that they have preserved their faith and their idealism, that they have remained decent people or become ones again, that they hold their position soldierly at the place where Providence has put them.

If among a thousand people one quiet hero, man or woman, walks and works, then this heroic example will radiate onto them all, then our whole folk will grow together into a great, eternal front.

Each of us can be this quiet hero, at whom others looks, to whom they turn, even if no command calls for it.

But there can also come hours in life in which we face the choice either to be heroes or cowards, either to be men or traitors.

There are events in which a middle line between heroism and baseness is not longer possible.

Whoever proves heroic bearing in the quiet life struggle, will in these fateful hours all by himself grow to great heroism.

Heroism is the dream of all youth.

Heroes are the shapers of all events.

God is with the heroes.

by Anton Holzner, Eternal Front

You guys ever think that the reason why Wally is progressing so much faster than Barry is the difference in their mentors? 

Barry had the weight of a lying, two-faced sociopath bent on making him faster to make him fall down harder.  

Originally posted by runningwithhelicopters

Wally has the full support of his family and a speedster mentor who admires and loves him - someone who only wants see just how great of a hero Wally can be.

Originally posted by dailydcheroes

Excuse me while I cry for a thousand years…

is this the real life?// old man logan

Originally posted by thethorninhisside

Originally posted by peteneems

So because I couldn’t find an actual gif of all the xmen collectively, enjoy a 90′s Logo of the Xmen. L) I was so tired last night I didn’t post the second one I was planning on. Enjoy this! Requests still OPEN.

Requested by Anon: But I’d love to see something, maybe an AU, where Laura is Logan and Readers biological daughter and all the Xmen are still alive and everyone’s happy? I need some happy after Logan. Thank you!

I’ve been so accustomed to writing angst for this movie… Let’s see how this goes.

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anonymous asked:

DA:I companions (plus advisors) meeting the Hero of Ferelden (kudos if Leliana is in a romance with the Warden)

Cassandra: It’s an honor, of course. She might not have been anywhere near Denerim during the Blight but she knows what they managed to prevent– anyone who doesn’t just needs to look at the Hissing Wastes. They are a hero- as the name suggests- and she’ll treat them as such. But on a whole different level she is also Lelianna’s lover, and after years of serving the Divine together the Seeker knows more about the famous Warden than she is perhaps comfortable with. But its good to see their spymaster so happy, and theres a part of her that wants to see if this distant and almost legendary figure lives up to the sweet stories that Lelianna can be convinced to tell about her beloved.

Solas: Having seen spirits play out several aspects of the blight, from Ostagar to Denerim, the rift mage is curious to see the hero behind so many of those moments. If they’re a city elf and he hears about their experience before Duncan recruited them it confirms some suspicions in his head of how their race has fared among humans, but for the most part Solas enjoys listening to stories of their travels and observing the jovial mood amongst the Inner Circe and most of Skyhold.

Varric: Its a check off of his list of famous heros to have drinks with, and the dwarf is happy to set aside the role of racanteur to listen to the warden’s stories. When they mention Lothering he can’t help but be reminded of Hawke, and between bouts of note taking reminds himself to pen a letter to his friend in Kirkwall. Its been enough time since the blight that a warden character might go over well, and he needs something new after the Hard in Hightown 2 fiasco. Best to take notes from the source.

Blackwall: If it’s before Revelations he avoids them like the Blight itself. He has no way of knowing if they knew the true Blackwall and if they are going to reveal his secret to those people who trust him. Despite numerous invitations to join in on evenings in the tavern he stays apart in the barn and waits until they are gone. After Revelations sees him cautious around the Warden, ready with an apology if the Warden calls him out for his actions. But a good warden died in the beginning of their adventure too, and before long the two are at least comfortabe around each other.

Sera: The Red Jenny was young when the full terror of the Blight struck Denerim, but she remembers peeking out of the cracks in the cellar door where they sheltered and watching the Wardens take on darkspawn. If they are Cousland or Aeducan she’s wary of them, but otherwise she’s willing to sit down to a drink with them and- if the conversation goes well- to embark on a few pranks together.

Vivienne: If the Warden is from the Circle the Grand Enchanter will be quick to inquire after their politics, but otherwise shes polite and somewhat aloof. By the time news of the defeat at Ostagar had finally reached them the Hero and their party were well on the way to havig things handled, and the Battle of Denerim and fall of the Arch Demon happened too quickly for most circles to pass a vote on whether or not they should send people. Their stories are entertaining though, and its worth it enough to watch Sister Nightengales masks fall a bit as the bard relishes being around her inamorata.

Dorian: The Blight wasn’t given too much attention in Tevinter, mostly due to its relatively short time span. And if it hadn’t been for Felix Dorian might not have known anything at all about the Wardens or the Hero of Ferelden. But while he was still an apprentice he and Alexius had poured over every scrap of literature the could find regarding the taint, and he’d spent a very informative morning talking to a Ferelden merchant who’d been stuck in Denerim. Felix is gone by then of course, but Dorian still pokes at his old research from time to time and the offer to donate it to the wardens search- if they are not yet successful- spawns a few evenings of camaraderie and the beginnings of a friendship.

Iron Bull: Its a thrill to hear stories of the Arishok when he was till a Sten, and having read extensve Ben-Hassrath reports from both the former soldier and others who observed the chaos of the blight he’s eager to share drinks with the person behind the legends. If they recovered Sten’s sword for him his respect for them grows even higher but he is most keen on hearing descriptions of the arch demon. By the time they are done he is slightly envious of them– what a hell of a fight!

Cole: “Whispers not your own, nightmares and old gods and black in the blood. You are’t you anymore, but you make people happy. Happier than honey in wine or shoes.”

Cullen: The commander will be extremely tempted to hide out in his office until they are gone. Their last meeting was spectacularly awful and he has no wish to face their anger or disapproval, and if they are a mage those feelings are a thousand times worse. But eventually the warden drags them out -with a smile and the assurance that they understand why he said what he said so many years ago- and he is convinced to join the group for drinks and stories even if he has nothing to share himself.

Josephine: By the time she gets the proper quarters set up, deals with the nobles who want to meet the Hero and pries Lelianna away from her love long enough to help her get everything squared away the ambassador is exhuasted. But diplomacy rarely sleeps and besides she is too happy to see her friend happy to miss spending at least a few moments in the tavern. ONce shes there and has a drink or two she relaxes further and settles in to enjoy the wardens stories.

Lelianna: Her happiness is complete. For too long she and her love have been completely seperated, with only a rare letter to ensure the other that all was well. For the first hour or so that the hero is there she refuses to let go, and they hold each other in the alcoves of the aviary and just soak in each others presence. After that there are people to meet and the spmaster insists that her warden gets some rest, but that night they take their seats in the tavern and the story telling begins. In time she is convinced to grace them with a song or two, and for a moment it feels so much like the camps of old that she has to wipe a surreptious tear from her eye. Its been a long time since she was so happy, and nothing can take it away.

anonymous asked:

Hi! You probably have a ton of asks, so I'm sorry if this just further bogs down your inbox, but I adore your dialogue prompts! Honestly, I've never found prompts that inspired me as much as these, thank you so much for running this blog! I was wondering if you could give some dialogue prompts for a hero flirting with a scholar/historian who is living/traveling with them? Either way, I adore your blog and I'm so excited to see prompts from you in the future!

1) “You love history. Fancy making some history of our own?”
“Because I’ve never heard that one before.”
“And that is what people in the present call a non-answer.”


2) “Are you even listening?”

“Sure. I love it when you wrap your mouth around all those long, ancient words.” The hero’s gaze flicked to the scholar’s lips, and they bit down on their own. “Speaking of long-”

Colour rose to the scholar’s cheeks. “-”-You’re an ass. This is serious-“

The hero rattled off a perfect, nuanced summary of what the scholar had been talking and raised a brow.


3) “I would launch a thousand ships for your face.”

“Oh my god, don’t even get me started on the Trojan War. Honestly-”

The hero watched their face light up in animation, hands flailing, passion spilling over and grinned. The scholar caught the look and stopped short.

“You’re teasing me.”

“I mean, if you want me to start a war for you I will, but yeah. You’re adorable.”


+1

“I think,” the hero said quietly. “Sometimes you get so distracted by lives past, that you forget you have a life of your own right now. Present needs. Desires not satisfied by a book.” They stepped closer. “The world’s not in that tome of yours, it’s out here. With me. Take a break.”

anonymous asked:

What do you imagine Lotor to be like the next season?

At this point we don’t have too much to go off of, but I know what I’d like to see.

I kind of outlined in this post that I think that it’s pretty likely that the Weblum Galra/Black Helmet is Lotor. That said, if that’s the case, it tosses a bit of fuel to the fire of a theory I had:

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No Place I’d Rather Be

Oliver and Felicity grab dinner, set after 5x15.  Also on AO3


Felicity was sitting at her computers staring at the data running past, not that she could read it, the computer was still scanning through the data from the visit to Prometheus’ mother’s house. She heard the elevator doors open and looked up.


“Good you are still here.” Oliver said with a smile on his face.


“Yes, what’s up? PLEASE tell me you have something for me to do? I need to be useful and right now the computers are doing all the work!” Felicity was practically begging.


“Nope. No work. But I thought we could go grab some dinner.”


“I’m not really that hungry Oliver.” Plus, Felicity couldn’t help but think we aren’t the type of people who do that anymore, remember?


“Maybe just a shake? I’ll take you to Big Belly Burger it will be my treat.”


Damn, he was persistent.


“Okay,” she said a little nervously. “It’s not like I’m doing anything.”


“Great! Let’s take my bike. I know you used to love to ride on it.”

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Run To You // Sam Wilson x Reader P3

Pairing: Sam Wilson x POC Reader
Word Count: 2k+
Warning: fluff, language, angst, abuse mentions, violence (justice) , FEELINGS

Summary: Andrew finally gets what he deserves. Steve makes a mistake. Healing from psychological trauma is always a lot easier said than done, but your newfound family makes sure you know you’re not alone. 

A/N: Holy hell! You guys are absolutely fantastic with your feedback! I can’t believe you like this so much!  This is probably going to end up have way more than 4 parts lmao. I cannae be stopped.

Inspiration: “In Repair” ~ John Mayer

Too many corners in my mind,
So much to do to set my heart right.
Oh, it’s taking so long,
I could be wrong, I could be ready.
Oh, but if I take my heart’s advice,
I should assume it’s still unsteady.
I am in repair…I’m not together but I’m getting there…”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

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Darcy/Steve, Bodyswap

for @glynnisi

1. Bodyswap


“Oh my god…” Darcy reached up to touch her face.  “I’m so tall.  This is wrong, what even…I have stubble on my face…”  

Steve glanced over at her, half shocked/half unsurprised to see himself looking back.  She had his voice, after all.  “Calm down, Darcy.”  

“Easy for you to say,” she squeaked.  “Nobody’s gonna mistake you for a super hero.  Nobody’s gonna ask you for help only to be gravely disappointed…”  She buried her (his?) head in her hands.  

“Well, I think they’re gonna be SOL if they ask me for help with their wifi or any of the other thousands of things that you do everyday.”  

“Those things aren’t that hard to do…” she sniffed.  

“Maybe not, but I’m sure as hell am not doing them.  I do not have the disposition to be you, Darcy.  We have to fix this, or this entire place is going to fall apart.”

No, you can not say “nigga” if you’re not black.

“Nigger” is a term that was used when slave masters poked and prodded us while we were being live auctioned away from our family members on the streets, while white people determined our worth as workers with work so strenuous it could kill any person soon before their time.

“Nigger” is a term that was used against us as blisters formed on our fingers from the constant picking of cotton and other various forms of agricultural work.

“Nigger” was the term used when black woman gave birth to black babies that if they weren’t soon to become slaves for the rest of their miserable lives themselves then they were snuffed by their fearful mothers or fed to alligators alive as bait by our white captors instead.

“Nigger” was the term used when our white captors used hounds and shot guns to chase down runaway slaves hopeful for a glimpse of freedom forever denied by the white man who ran him down.

“Nigger” was the term used when the whip broke skin in such ways welts lasted for a lifetime serving as a reminder anytime we dared to challenge the system.

“Nigger” was the term used when the white man raped a black woman and she bore his child that would be striped from her to live in the plantation house, treated a little better but never ever as equal as his white children and forever still a “nigger” after all.

“Nigger” was the term used when we fought in white mans wars but still faced heavy discrimination in the north and even as free men.

“Nigger” was the term used when feminists couldn’t even fathom the thought that black men could vote before them because black men were far inferior to them.

“Nigger” is the term used when white women praise early white feminists as their heroes but to black people we see them as the racists that white womans privilege can afford to ignore.

“Nigger” was the term used when young boys and girls, men and women, elderly and pregnant women were lynched by the thousands throughout history.

“Nigger” was the term used when prominent civil rights leaders were murdered one after the other for daring to share churches, schools, and neighborhoods with white civilization.

“Nigger” was the term used when redlining and gentrification comes and forces black people to live generations upon generations in poverty.

“Nigger” was the term used when the fight for interracial marriage was seen as destroying traditional marriage because marrying a “nigger” was impure to the white race.

“Nigger” was the term used when black children were chased all the way home by angry white mobs, some unfortunate enough to get caught and lynched.

“Nigger” was the term used when black homes daring enough to stand in white neighborhoods were set on fire by angry white arsonists.

“Nigger” was the term used when the KKK resurrected and had such a strong political force that no one, not even police, touched them. Many political figures themselves were even a part of this group and the group is still alive today.

“Nigger” is the term used when the mis-education the the Black Panther Party is taught.

“Nigger” was the term used when our community is still targeted til this day by law enforcement through biased drug laws or something as simple as existing.

“Nigger” was the term used when white people came out in droves to defend the slaughter of a teenage boy who done nothing wrong, or the dozens and dozens of innocent black people slaughtered since.

“Nigger” is the term used everyday as strong reminders that white people still hate us in large numbers.

“Nigga” is the term used by black people to take the power that white people gave to “nigger” and reclaim it as a symbol of pride and reclaim as a means to dismantle your whiteness and privilege over us.

No you can not use that term if you’re not black because your history and story can never ever back up your need or desire to use that word.

You want to say “cracker” is the same.

Name Five Prominent Female NPCs from Warlords of Draenor

If you’re anything like me, you’ll get past Yrel and then promptly draw a blank.

Liadrin counts since she appeared a few times, right? I think Draka showed up too, although that might’ve just been Horde-side. And what about the Iron Maidens? Oh, wait, they were just a raid boss. Wasn’t one of the orcish clan leaders female? What was her name again…? Zarya? Zayna? Z-something. Bah.

Ask me to rattle off five prominent male NPCs, on the other hand, and I’ll have no trouble. Khadgar, Gul’dan, Durotan, Blackhand, Maraad, Garrosh, Thrall, Velen, Kilrogg… The list could go on, but we’ll be here all day. My point is that all of these are male characters who featured prominently in either quest chains, raids, or a combination of the two.

World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor was a lacklustre experience for many reasons, and the lack of notable female characters throughout the expansion was but a small droplet of saltwater in a vast ocean of mediocrity. But that’s not what I’m really here to talk about. What I’m here to talk about is Legion.

Talk about #squadgoals amirite?

This is a screenshot I took today, at the conclusion of the March on Suramar storyline. In the middle you can see my player character, Kalpana. If you’re especially observant, you might notice something about the lineup of NPCs surrounding my character: Every single one of them is female. Allow me to introduce them.

Starting on the far right, we have Vereesa Windrunner, the youngest sister of Alleria and Sylvanas Windrunner. Vereesa created and led the Silver Covenant, a militant group of high elves which was originally formed to oppose the Horde’s admission to Dalaran; however, as of Legion she has pledged her order to the Unseen Path, a union of hunters dedicated to fighting the Burning Legion.

On the far left is Lady Liadrin. Liadrin stands as the matriarch of the Blood Knights, an elite order of blood elven paladins. Following her character arc in The Burning Crusade, she was conspicuously absent from the game up until the Warlords expansion, though she has since played a much more pivotal role as the leader of Horde forces in Suramar.

She’s also been added as a playable hero in Hearthstone, so that’s pretty cool.

To the right of Kalpana is Tyrande Whisperwind, one of the most prominent characters in the game as leader of the night elves. Tyrande previously stood as general of the night elven sentinels and protected the continent of Kalimdor for over ten thousand years, as well as being the chosen high priestess of the moon goddess Elune. To face Tyrande Whisperwind is to face the wrath of a deity.

Finally, to the left of Kalpana stands First Arcanist Thalyssra, a new character introduced in Legion. We first meet Thalyssra at the beginning of the Suramar campaign, where we find her withering away from mana starvation. We hear her story as we help her recover, and over time grow to sympathise with her as a character, along with the rest of her faction of Nightborne outcasts, the Nightfallen.

I’d probably be equally upset if my home was overrun by demons.

All of these characters, each a leader in their own right, are shown working together to make a stand against the Burning Legion. And to see all these skilled, powerful, important female characters standing side by side in the run-up to such a pivotal conflict in Legion’s storyline is honestly astounding to me.

This is far from the only example; Sylvanas Windrunner, Helya, Mayla Highmountain, Grand Magistrix Elisande, Arcanist Valtrois – all female NPCs, both good and evil, who each play integral parts in the story of World of Warcraft: Legion.

I feel as though Blizzard are trying to bring some semblance of gender equality into a game that’s long been overpopulated by male characters. And while they’ve still got a ways to go in terms of representation, I want them to know their effort is being noticed and appreciated, and I can only hope that they’ll continue to make strides as time goes on.

Okay but imagine

The Miraculous Ladybug theme song was written and scored by musicians in Paris who wanted to show their appreciation for their heroes on their one year anniversary of fighting crime, and ask the local school to aide in its production so their heroes can see love coming from their cities youth. Adrien gets basically signed up to be Cat Noir without his exact permission because they need a good face and his singing isn’t bad, and as they audition girls he has to sing his part like a thousand times and gets progressingly more annoyed and less in to it. The directors are getting frustrated cause there just isn’t a Ladybug that makes their Cat Noir shine. It’s looking like Chloe is going to get the part because her dad is essentially rigging the auditions, but behind the scenes Alya is doing her best to convince Marinette to audition because “YOU WOULD BE GREAT, can you seriously imagine being the Ladybug to Adrien’s Cat Noir??” She doesn’t think much of the comparison since she doesn’t understands Paris’ obsession with a superhero romance, but getting to play opposite Adrien would make her absolutely DIE from happiness. But how can she seriously sing and perform not only in front of HIM but ALL OF PARIS, but then again she CANT let it be Chloe, she refuses to let Chloe represent Ladybug and steal her time with Adrien. So she gets a mask, a plain red one, to try and trick her brain in to being more confident, and just GOES for it before she has a heart attack and dies. Adrien is looking at the ground, bored and annoyed when he hears the instrumental pick up for the billionth time. He just groans and gets his mic ready, but then he hears, “I live a life, its full of fun, it keeps me sharp and on the run,” and its just so… so- sassy? He can’t even think of the words. Its so fierce and confident and playful and maybe just a tiinge flirty and its so incredibly LADYBUG and he looks up to see- wait is that Marinette?? Shy little Marinette just BURSTS onto stage like she was born to play his Lady. And when the song picks up he gets more and more excited, because shes doing it perfectly, shes jumping and walking and doing all these gymnastic stunts across the stage and theater seats and rigging in time with the words and he just gets PUMPED and then its his turn, and he nails it. Hard. He falls completely into Cat Noir mode, confident, flirtatious, playful and fun. And he gets kind of flustered, sort of stunned when he runs up on to stage and Marinette, shy Marinette, meets his eyes and doesnt flinch even a little. there is no trace of his shy class mate and the way she holds herself is perfect for the part, so perfect that he feels himself get that racing pulse he only gets for his real lady. When his part dies back into support vocals he starts to slowly tail her as she runs around, peering after her and trying to keep up, and SHES PLAYING ALONG. Shes running out in front, letting him get close and then slipping away again. Then the song kicks up into full gear and hes after her, top speed, trying to get to her till hes running across the stage, sliding on his knees and putting his whole heart into the vocals as she finally struts up to him, harmonizing “the lucky charm” perfectly with him and shes red faced from being near him and hes red faced from being near her and then they strike the poses, just like the statue and end the performance with all of their energy.


And the directors and the entire school and the mayor and god and everyone is completely and totally STUNNED.


“I think we found our heroes”

(You have no idea director man)

Every failure to cope with a life situation must be laid, in the end, to a restriction of consciousness. Wars and temper tantrums are the makeshifts of ignorance; regrets are illuminations come too late.
—  Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces
why finnlo should be a larger ship in the star wars fandom: a bitter manifesto

[disclaimer: need to rewatch, have read before the awakening but not the novelisation, have not read bloodline. i am very tired and wrote this in one sitting. im tagging this with the ship name, star wars, and then just the tags i use for the characters on my blog. i am very sorry (ish)]

part 1: fandom trends

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emilio-g  asked:

your GDC12 talk mentioned "The Garden of Forking Paths", which brings up a question i've been meaning to ask: what works NOT directly about game design would you recommend for building good game design sense? e.g. "The Hero of a Thousand Faces" isn't a manual for writers, but is considered standard reading for fiction writers.

Hmm.  I don’t know if The Garden of Forking Paths is a must-read for designers, nor is Hopscotch (Cortázar), but they are both interesting to examine for foundational ideas about branching stories/narratives.

The Hero with a Thousand Faces wasn’t that valuable to me as a designer because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from DMing/GMing, most RPG players do not want you to gently guide them along a curated storyline.  Just because a large number of myths and stories have recurring patterns, that doesn’t mean your story needs to follow the same patterns.  It’s interesting information, not a design book.

While I’ve read blog, forum, and twitter posts that have useful design information, I’ve never read a published game design book that stuck a single bit of information in my head for more than a moment.  It may just be because I’ve read bad game design books, but I get a lot more out of reading and playing games, then discussing them with other people, than from reading a design book about them.

I do get a lot more out of reading design books from other industries: typography, illustration, furniture design, etc.  It may be because those industries are more mature and there’s a larger body of established work in those fields.  Most good design books that I’ve read either contain insights that are universal to all types of design or can be easily considered within other types of design.

There is a Charles Eames interview video I like to go back to because I think he answers a lot important design questions in broadly-applicable, succinct manner.

Anon Request: Holy shit that angst fic with McCree was so sad D: I could just see the poor dude crying. Can I request the same prompt but with Soldier: 76?

Here you go, anon! I hope this has the angst you wanted! If you have any questions, message me.


“I-I love you, J-Jack. God, I l-love you so much.” Your voice cracked, the cellphone connection wavering. He could hear your shaky breathing, the pain that you were trying to hide.

Jack Morrison felt guilt swirl around in his gut as he approached the podium, staring out at the crowd of Overwatch agents. Some had their heads high, holding back the tears until they were in the privacy of their home. However, most were weeping, cradled in the arms of their partners.

Sighing, he readied himself and said, “Y/N L/N was a valiant soldier. They were courageous and brave and stood with their head held high when faced with danger. They…they had a heart of gold that was matched by none other.”

He took a breath, tears prickling in his eyes. No, he refused to cry. He had done enough of that after your call. Hearing your voice as you slowly died had destroyed him, and he had spent days in the sanctity of his room, away from others.

“Y/N stepped up when others refused to, and they risked their life to save the many lives of others. They were one of the best soldiers I could’ve had the chance to meet.”

“I was going to g-get you a-a new w-watch for your birthday, Jack,” you said, “Y’know that one we s-saw?”

“Yeah, I know the one,” he whispered, body trembling. He was so far away from you, and you had begged him not to come for you. It was much too dangerous, and you didn’t want him to get injured.

“W-we saved money—Winston and I—and w-we were g-going to surprise you. You w-would’ve l-loved it.”

“Y/N was also the love of my life. They made me into a new man, and they made me realize that there is more in this world than death and destruction. They had a heart that could love millions and still have space for others.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Winston trying to hold back tears, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. In the distance, a dark shadow lingered by the trees. For once, he didn’t react, not caring that the man there was the enemy. He didn’t care anymore.

“Y/N was the reason Overwatch was created. They were what this world needed to survive without blood being shed. They…they were loved by thousands and adored by so many more.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry fo—“

“I don’t want to h-hear that, Jack. Just…this isn’t y-your fault. T-this is the risk w-we take by be-being heroes.”

Jack swept a hand over his face, feeling his age more than he had ever felt before. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to hear your voice.

“I love y-you, Jack.”

They were clapping, the sound deafening, and Jack backed away from the podium. Sighing, he lowered his head and walked away from the funeral, his eyes on the dark shadow. When he was close enough, Jack lifted his head to stare into Gabriel Reyes’ eyes.

“They shouldn’t have died, Jack,” Gabriel growled, a solemn look in his face. Black smoke billowed from his mouth when he spoke, fueled by his anger.

“Well, they did, and it’s because of that organization you work for, Gabriel.” Jack bit down on his cheek, tasting blood on his tongue.

Gabriel didn’t say much else before he phased away, a whispered apology lingering behind. Jack closed his eyes and slumped against the tree, letting his head fall.