the ravages of age

Yondu was a battle slave for 20 YEARS.

I was just thinking about how crazy that might have been considered. Like Stakar rescues him and he’s like “how long you been a battle slave?” And Yondu goes “20 years” and Stakar is just “DAMN, SON.” Because I’m thinking battle slaves are put on the front lines to be cannon fodder and in gladiator rings to be killed for entertainment. This means Yondu must have been exceptionally clever, strong, resilient and resourceful to survive all those years - which probably made him both hated and a favorite among the Kree.


On the Ravages of Aging

This little ficlet came about because I was disturbed by some of the OUaT Fandom’s reaction to Old!Hook in 6x11, Tougher Than the Rest.  So like a good little dork, I wrote out my feelings.

Beta’d by the admirable @icecubelotr44.  Rated G.


A few weeks after returning from the twisted Wish-reality, Emma begins to notice that something is a little off concerning her favorite pirate.

She doesn’t know, at first, what is bothering her.  There is nothing overtly obvious that makes her think ‘this is wrong’; it’s just a feeling, in the back of her mind, insisting that something is off.

So she starts watching Killian a little closer.  Her eyes follow him around the kitchen as he makes dinner and she watches him out of the corner of her eyes as they dress in the mornings.  And for the first few days, everything seems normal and she starts to tell herself that she was wrong, that everything is all right.

Keep reading

You know, it’s not so bad [living with and being one of the Ravagers]. I mean sure, I’ve committed more thefts than most people my age. Or really, most people in general. Then again, I don’t really know anyone my own age. My best friends are a 26-year-old weirdo [Kraglin] and a giant blue alien who constantly hits me. Still, better than my dad. At least they’re AROUND! Huh… where did that come from?
—  Young Peter Quill.

anonymous asked:

When do you think is the best place to stop worldbuilding and start writing? How do you fit a new plot into a world that's already (mostly) made? Anything helps, thanks

This similar question was answered a couple of days ago [HERE] which deals with the matter of working on the beginning of a plot and developing conflict.

World building is important, it’s the foundation of the story that you’re going to tell, and it’s a major source of information on how your characters are going to behave and what will happen. Strong world building leads to immersive experiences in fiction, and enables you to take the reader along on a journey that feels real even when it’s utterly fantastical.

However, during the writing process, it can be tempting to be waylaid by world building as a form of procrastination: I have to finish world building before I write, but the world is so big and wonderful and complex that I can’t just stop until I’ve written down everything about it! Right?

The thing is, the amount of world building that you need to do depends on how much of it you’re going to use. It’s a good idea to know more than you’re going to put on the page, because having a deeper understanding of your setting and world than what is explicitly put on the page will inform the way that you write about things, and it enables you to work with suggestion and implicit details to entice the reader into digging for more clues about the world.

But if your story is set, for example, in a single remote mountain village, then you don’t really need to have to hand the history of all the surrounding nations and their conflicts and interests, except as it pertains to the understanding of the people in your remote mountain village.

Your villagers, of course, will know of the rest of the world, and you as the writer need to know what they know, and a little more than that, but if the story never leaves the remote mountain village, and the characters are caught up in their own affairs rather than being interested in what’s going on outside the village, then there’s not much use in you writing up an encyclopaedia of stuff that’s happening elsewhere but won’t make it into the actual story.

I’d suggest that there are a couple of different levels of information that you’ll want to have sorted out when you start your writing, exactly the amount of detail you’ll need is going to depend on your personal preferences and writing style and the focus of the story, but I conceptualise it in the following way:

Primary world building:

  • The sensory life of your protagonist. What do they see, feel, taste, touch, hear every day? What is their personal experience of the world they live in?
  • The intellectual life of your protagonist. What do they think about the world they live in? What are their assumptions and superstitions? How do they believe the world works and where do they think they fit in it?
  • The functional reality of the protagonist’s locale (where they are). What is this place like, who lives here and what do they do? What kind of a place is this setting, and how does it fit into the scheme of the rest of the world?
  • Primary elements are the things that you’re going to be dealing with in detail, and which are going to be the material facts as you present them to the reader.

Secondary world building:

  • The wider setting, outside of what the reader will be seeing directly.
  • What is the reality of the wider world? Consider politics, religion, tradition, history, war, geography … All the things that sit in the back of a nation’s collective mind, not really at the forefront of many people’s thoughts, but the general knowledge, and the general concepts that people accept as given.
  • What is the true reality of the wider world? Are there any ways in which the ‘actual’ history of the world differs to that which is accepted as true by the people living there? Was there a great deception at some point? Have they simply yet to make a discovery about their world? Are they working on incorrect assumptions about their world in some way?
  • Secondary elements act as the background process of the world, these are things that may or may not emerge through the interactions of characters and world, and things that readers may be able to glean from the way that the character processes the primary elements/ the way that the narrative positions those elements.

These two levels of world building provide you the basis of what is happening and being experienced within the narrative, and also the basis of why it is happening (or why the characters believe it is happening).

Now, another note, but this ask and the previous world building ask have had a similar tone to them that I want to address. The plot isn’t something that fits neatly into the world, generally. The plot happens to the world, in the world, the nature of plots is that they change things. This can feel very difficult and painful when you’ve spent a long time crafting the world, but it is one of, if not the key element of story.

No matter the world you’ve built, no matter how beautiful and real seeming it is, it will not be a static artefact, in fact, if you want your story to have any sort of traction, resonance, and depth, the plot will mean that things change a lot. The real world is ever-changing and developing, for better or for worse, and sometimes for both. The fictional world cannot be static, or it is lifeless.

Consider some big stories; A Song of Ice and Fire is driven hugely by change, the balance of power shifts wildly from one book to the next. The Lord of the Rings ends with the end of an age, the Shire has been ravaged and much of Middle Earth will never be the same again. In Harry Potter, a whole culture is swept up into a war, even Hogwarts itself is damaged by the conflict.

It’s a mistake to think of the world as ‘complete’. That’s the danger and the lure of world building, it can continue forever if you let it, because the world is infinitely complex. Don’t be afraid of changing the world, don’t be afraid of consequences of the plot happening. Those things are the fuel for the story.

World Building Week Day 3: Sojourn/Unworld

They think I’m delusional. Addled by the ravages of an aging and tormented mind. No such place could possibly exist, they said; we would have found it by now. But I know the truth.

There’s only one other person who has made any kind of record of it, just as I remember. Only one other person could possibly know where - or what - it is.

And I’m going to find them.

I was really excited for this prompt! I’ve been super into the idea of the Unworld ever since Hartman talked about it, and Sojourn caught my attention too. I’ve somehow latched onto the idea that Sojourn is the only being that has managed to venture beyond the Ghost Zone, so here are some other things I’ve stuck with since that video:

  • Sojourn is considered the GZ’s master of space in a similar way Clockwork is by default the master of time.
  • Sojourn subsequently has ties to Clockwork, and is actually the progenitor of the Observants (as implied by the eye sigil on their notebook and belt in their alternate character design).
  • Sojourn is the creator of the Infi-map (I think someone else theorized this so shout out to that person, I can’t take credit for this).
  • Has a bit of a trickster streak. Believe it or not, Clockwork is the responsible one between the two of them.

As for Unworld,

  • Unworld is not common knowledge. Only the most ancient spirits have ever even heard of it.
  • It exists in a self-contained space separate from all of the other realms. I like to think of the space in the DPU containing the Ghost Zone, Elsewhereness, human realm and all others as all being different ‘rooms’ on alternate floors in a big building, while Unworld itself isn’t even in the same city.
  • Because of this, time doesn’t affect the Unworld like the other realms. Mishaps from any and all timelines can end up in Unworld, paradoxes included. For this reason Clockwork has no power over what occurs there.

So in honor of @asiansofthedas launching (Or at least apearing on my dash) I thought I thought I would make a little post on my thoughts on the idea of East Asians in Thedas.

Basically East Asians are not actually native to Thedas, But if we are being honest lore wise neither are any humans or the Qunari

This is the city of laysh and it is in my opinion key to understanding east asians in the world of Dragon Age

(My scanner murdered the rest but basically the vints never returned but the Voshai have returned in recent years with tales of a Mysterious cataclysm that has ravaged their land.

All this follows the Dragon Age tradition of seeming to invert seemingly geography (Warmer in the north for example) (I say seemingly because those in the south of South America and the south of Africa could tell you direction does not matter only distance from the equator)

But as a history freak this SCREAMS the spice trade and the very wise xenophobia of many asian dynasties when encountering europeans.

BUT what this fails to talk about is this.

When two cultures encounter each otehr there is ALMOST ALWAYS cross breeding.

And Asian traits can last a HELLA of a long time.

I’m a key example of this. I still have a hint of an elliptical fold from ONE central asian ancestor several generations back.

So there are people like Liselle

Who the fourth image of in google search is a modded version looking like this

Dear Dragon age fandom… THIS SHIT is racism.

Anyhow Liselle is an orlesian commoner who had to move because her brother hit a chevelier over the head with a pot when the man to an unwelcome interest in her

(Something that is considered his right because she is a commoner in orlais)

It might also be worthwhile noting that Leliana ALSO has the skintone used for “asian” characters. 

This did not come from her mother according to toolset so her father might have been.

When it comes to elves judging by those in the Ferelden Alienage and by Zevran it’s common for elves  to develop the racial characteristics of the humans they live near.  

So elves near Laysh might have developed these type of characteristics.

Anymore than this would be my own personal headcannon so I’ll add that latter.

This is not me saying you can’t make Asiatic OCS wherever the hell you want.

This is me addressing the misconception that they are not actually in the game.

memento mori.

from beginning to end, we ask ourselves such questions. what is the meaning of life? is this all that i am? how much am i worth? did i live a meaningful life? do i value my values? or do i have values to not be condemned? which way is right? who dictates us? is free will really real? pressure, pressure. you’re going to break some day, you’re going to die some day. your favorite songs will be played at your funeral, people will cry. all that’s left are bits and pieces of us. how did you treat the people you’ve meet in your lifetime? were you humble? were you loyal? did you count the days right? how long have you had that knife in your back? was she the one? was he the one? worthless are the answers, the person you’ve become— is that person ready? deathbed made of roses, you are holding on. when you used to be young, but time finally caught up to you. did you make life fun? or were you on the run? stumbling through your hallway every night, ravaged thoughts consume us. your age is a number that you’ve forgotten, like everything else humans expire too. our feelings and how we were, the things that we said, how we affected people— are you the cure or the infliction? did you know? i feel like a question instead of the answer— one day, you’ll have to come to terms with it. all of us.

(Little something for Tullk that wouldn’t fit into a fic on it’s own. Mostly headcanon, spoilers for Volume 2)


“Take care of him, Tullk.”

The first time Tullk hears that phrase, he’s still a middle-aged man, one of many Ravagers under the flag of Stakar Ogord.

And the “him” is a bulky, blue-skinned young man – Centaurian? He hasn’t seen one of them in quite a while – standing half-hidden behind the massive figure that is Stakar, red eyes glaring at Tullk as if the other has already insulted him somehow even if they’ve just met.

Well, alright, perhaps Tullk has already seen the man, being half-carried, half-dragged along as Stakar showed up with him out of the middle of Kree-territory, one of the Centaurian’s arms over his shoulder and his own arm slung around the too-thin waist of the younger while Stakar declared with cold seriousness in his voice that the young one would come with them.

And even if Tullk hadn’t seen it, the missing fin and the scars branding the blue skin would still spell slave all too loud.

“Show him around,” Stakar’s voice pulls him from the memories of wildly flashing red eyes and defensively bared teeth and he nods, saluting with a fist on his chest. “Give him some easy things to work at for today, see that he gets his own bunk and some flesh on his rips. He’s skin and bones, it’s not pretty to look at.”

There’s a growl from the Centaurian at the last remark, but Stakar simply laughs and pushes the young one’s shoulder. Tullk notes that there is no fighting back, just a grumble and something that looks endearingly close to a pout. Pup is already growing accustomed, it seems.

“You think you can do that?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tullk grins, more at the young one than at Stakar, and he gets another glare in return.

The glare is still present as Stakar leaves them with an easy wave, when it’s just the two of them. The Centaurian looks now even less relaxed than before, shoulders stiff and eyes drifting to Stakar’s retreating back one time too often.

Tullk decides it’s his turn to break the ice, and he – slowly, seeing how the red gaze immediately darts to the movement – extends a hand towards the other. “Hey there, mate, ‘m Tullk. I don’t think I’ve caught yer name, though.”

There’s a heavy silence, stretching until it’s not comfortable anymore, but Tullk smiles right through it and doesn’t even think of pulling his hand back.

His patience is met with success when there’s a voice, sounding unused and raspy. “Yondu. Udonta.”

If it’s even possible, Tullk’s smile grows even larger. “It’s nice to meet ye, Yondu. Come on, handshake, then we gonna grab something to eat first.”

A twitch and an eyebrow was raised at him in something that looked so very close to amusement. “Thought Ogord said showing around first.”

“Did ‘e? Didn’t catch that. My stomach is tellin’ me that eatin’ is first on the list, though.”

A thrill of unbound joy shoots through Tullk as the others bars his teeth – crooked, yellow and silver-capped things – in what is not a snarl, but a smile, and it makes him look so much more like the young man he still is, that Yondu. And what’s even better, a start of something, is the way rough blue fingers curl around Tullk’s, shaking them up and down carefully as Yondu rasps, “Eatin’ it is, then.”

“Glad we agree!” Tullk booms happily as he steers the other towards the kitchen.


“Take care of ‘im, Tullk!”

The second time he hears it, he’s well-past his best years, hair more white than grey, and he’s been part of Yondu Udonta’s crew long enough to know when Yondu is lost in thought rather than angry and so he catches the little body basically being shoved at him without startling, yelling “Yessir!” after the retreating back of his Captain.

The “him”, he discovers when looking down, is the little Terran they have picked up not more than a few days ago. Boy’s small and scrawny, pale and with red-rimmed eyes that speak of shed tears and sleepless nights.

Tullk can’t blame him, knowing how the whole crew had gathered around the child when he had been beamed up, had all but ripped his things from his tiny hands to look through it. Boy had been terrified and not understanding, seeing as he didn’t have a translator in his brain then and had only heard strange noises coming from equally strange men who had just taken him of his home planet.

A grin splits his face as he remembers the roar and the punch the boy had released straight at Retch’s face when the man had picked up the rectangular music-box the Terran had gripped so tightly. Yes, the child will find his place in the crew soon enough with that fire of his, and it’s only fair that Tullk will help him with that.

He kneels, getting on eyelevel with the tiny Terran, who only flinches slightly away from him before scowling, green – or blue? He isn’t sure in the bad lighting – eyes hard as steel as they regard him carefully. Not red, Tullk notes, but just as suspicious as the pair of eyes back then.

“Hey there, lil’ one,” he is careful to speak quietly and slowly, knowing that the brand-new translator will still be working at a slower setting right now. “’m Tullk. What’s yer name?”

There’s a bit of silence, then a sniffle that pulls at a heart Tullk sometimes wishes he didn’t have anymore, and a tiny, shaky voice, “Peter. Peter Quill.”

“’S nice to meet ye, Peter. Look, I think Capt’n meant I should show ye ‘round a bit, but how ‘bout we go grab us something to eat on the way and get to know each other a bit, first? Bet there’s a whole lot ye can tell me about yer planet, yea?”

Peter stares, and stares – gaze wandering from Tullk’s eyes to his smile, following the tattoos on his face, back to his eyes – before the boy whispers, “I’m hungry.”

“Ain’t that perfect! Then eatin’ it is, okay?” Tullk offers him a hand, full-well knowing how large his own hand is in comparison to the tiny childlike one, but he tries to push that thought away.

And smiles even wider when those tiny fingers wrap around his own calloused ones and shake it awkwardly. “…’kay.”

“See, glad we agree on that,” he grunts only a bit as he gets to his feet again – when did his knees start to crack so loudly, he wonders – and rests a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder as he steers him towards the kitchen. “Now, tell me something about that planet of yers, a’right?”

a totally not-comprehensive list of shit i loved from gotg2 (vague spoilers)

  • gamora and nebula!! dealing with their abuse!! HUGGING!! saving each other’s lives multiple times!!
  • seriously the resolution of gamora’s emotional arc was her realizing that she had been inconsiderate of her sister’s pain during their childhood (without it seeming like the narrative was punishing her for not knowing the extent of nebula’s abuse while she herself was being horrifyingly abused)!! 
  • mantis is completely unique to the mcu in personality, every female character is the Strong Woman Shoot Em Up Badass and she’s a goofy, awkward, lonely girl who wants friends but is still powerful and helpful 
  • and she totally averts the ‘born sexy yesterday’ trope which i was concerned about
  • sean gunn is too cute
  • a villain who is actually well-developed and frightening instead of a faceless mook who exists as a catalyst for the heroes?? 
  • there is an all female ravager crew!!! led by a middle aged asian woman!! WHAT THE FORK I WANT A MOVIE ABOUT /THAT/

And in the mirror she sees
Her face of age
Ravaged by wars raged
How can it be
This me
The mirror tells no lies
It she despises
Still mind of youth
Behind those sad eyes

But the mirror does lie
Seeking to deny
The beauty held within
Aged skin
Each line crafted
By tears & laughter
Mirror’s shallow reflection
Of only skin’s complexion

But I can see
What the mirror denies
I see the ever lasting beauty
Of the soul
Beneath those eyes
I can see the heart
Where my love lies

——- for JH

Yondu and the 4 year old lil girl!! He’s a protective dad who lets her play with his trinkets, and is over protective when she starts dating! She also learns to cuss at a young age and the other Ravagers die laughing when she does. Yondu doesn’t know how to feel. Hope you like the doodles! ❤