bitsy83

[bitsy83]

REBLOG POSTS❗❗ COMMENT ON FICS❗❗COMPLIMENT FANART ❗❗LEAVE LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS❗❗ BOOKMARK FICS YOU LIKE❗❗ TELL AUTHORS WHAT YOU LIKED ABOUT THEIR FICS❗❗COMMENT ON DECADE OLD FICS ❗❗ADD YOUR OWN ANALYSIS IN LONG POSTS❗❗ENGAGE❗❗ INTERACT❗❗ BUILD A COMMUNITY ❗❗

While people don't work for engagement, it certainly doesn't do any harm..

[bitsy83]

I gotta read this fic….

Please do not repost without credit, feel free to reblog!

(Chapter 2, page 21)

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FIRST

[bitsy83]

Reblogging and repeating for myself!

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[bitsy83]

As usual, BEAUTIFUL JOB! I can’t tell you how tempted I am to do an AU of Bruno being a Humphrey Bogart-esque character with Elena being his feme fatale. Thanks again!

Finally getting back into the groove of drawing again after a rough couple of weeks and a welcome family visit.

@bitsy83 won the writing challenge and asked for a fanart of her amazing story

“Dream a little Noir”

A delightful story where Bruno imagines himself as a noir style detective complete with clever one liners.

If you haven’t yet, you can win the prize winning fic she wrote here!

The Answer

[bitsy83]

The Answer

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64127554

Just a little something I wrote for the DTIY @prophetic-hijinks is running! Hope you all enjoy!

(TRIGGER: Panic attack and self-doubt)

[bitsy83]

Going off this hc with m: Dolores and Bruno have a special “silence” bond. When Dolores first got her gift, parties and social gatherings were difficult for her. So she wouldn’t feel left out, Bruno would babysit her in his room since it helped block out the sounds and gave Bruno an excuse not to attend the party. They would build sandcastles and he’d tell her stories that she wound insert her own characters and plot twists. Bruno would occasionally sneak out to get them snacks. Then when she would fall asleep, he’d tell Casita to get Felix or Pepa to come get her.

I have a headcanon, that all the Madrigal babies took to talking early. Because high energy, insomniac Bruno with a ton of stories took the nighttime diapers. Chattering the little one’s ears off until they nodded off.

[bitsy83]

Tagged by @prophetic-hijinks

People I’d like to get to know better: @naoko-world and @rinnysega

Last song: I was listening to The Pulse on Sirius and I think it was Taylor Swift song that tend to block out on occasion. Nothing against her personally, just not a fan.

Favorite color: sea green/blues/teal

Last Book: Currently working on “A Girl Named Disaster” by Nancy Farmer

Last Movie: …..honestly can’t remember. I think it was SCROOGED back in December

Last Show: been watching The Floor. I’d be so great at that game if my category was “Disney characters” or “Beatles songs”

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: not spicy

Looking Forward to: going to Pittsburgh for the weekend next month to visit my brother and celebrate my birthday.

I will tag @anyone who follows me and wants to follow this.

[bitsy83]

It just occurred to me that I never reblogged this! I want to thank my dear friend @prophetic-hijinks for making me this wonderful piece based on my fic. You captured the gatitos beautifully!

Bad Luck Friends

Image based on my friends @bitsy83 story “Luck of the Paw”. It’s adorable and so funny.

[bitsy83]

Adding.

[bitsy83]

Emerald Prince ⏳✨

Somehow I’ve fallen under your spell 🎶

[bitsy83]

Going off your last paragraph, I think what Aang did to Ozai was even crueler than just executing him (though I’m sure Aang wouldn’t see it that way).

Ozai was 100% dependent on his fire bending skills. Not just because of his status as fire lord, but the close-minded delusion that fire bending is the superior bending form. Learning or adapting fire bending skills to any other bending (like how Iroh learned to redirect lightning studying water benders) is beneath him and insulting. It wouldn’t surprise me that if Ozai succeeds in his own genocidal plans to take out the other benders, his next step would be to purge the world of anyone who couldn’t bend fire, even if they were born and loyal to the fire nation. Even elite loyalists to the Fire Nation would be enslaved/executed if they couldn’t bend fire.

All this being said, when Aang first defeated Ozai, Ozai was ready to accept his death. He lost, but he would no longer be alive to live with the shame of not only losing his war, but losing to an Air bender (or non-fire bender). Aang taking away his bending was a fate worse than death in the eyes of Ozai. In his mind, he would be living in mental and emotional torture that he’s causing to himself.

It’s also parallel to this:

Azula was an insanely prideful character; she was a princess AND a prodigy. Everything involving fire bending came easily to her. She never struggled, never failed, and was given everything through either intimidation or status.

Meanwhile, Katara struggled to become a master water bending. She had almost no formal training until she went to the North Pole, and even then she had to fight to earn her training. She was taught humility and how to deal with her limitations. When she failed, she learned, grew, and came back again and again until she succeeded.

Katara could have easily killed Azula right there, but outsmarting her, subduing her, and undoing the damage she did against Zuko drove Azula over the edge. She finally failed, leaving her a broken mess engulfed by insanity.

So, yes, having the Diamonds live at the end of SU was ignoring the “fall to death” trope, but that was never the message Sugar and her team wanted to tell. That’s not Steven’s character. It wasn’t even Pink Diamond’s character (even though she did emotionally kill a few characters). Steven never wanted to be a killer, even if it would be justified.

The goal of a hero is to defeat the villain.

Sometimes the villain falls off a cliff.

Other times they’re humbled or humiliated.

And sometimes the villain can change their mind thanks to the hero.

Sometimes I think about how and why some people had such a *bad* reaction to the end of Steven Universe, specifically in regards to the Diamonds living.

Even though they no longer are causing harm to others and are able to actually undo some of their previous harm by living, some folks reacted as though this ending was somehow morally suspect. Morally bankrupt, even.

And I think it might be because so many of us were raised on a very specific kind of kids media trope:

They all fall to their deaths.

Disney loves chucking their bad guys off cliffs. And it makes sense- in a moral framework where villains *must* be punished (regardless of whether their death will actually prevent further harm or not), but killing of any kind is morally bad for the hero, the narrative must find a way to kill the villain without the protagonists doing a murder.

It's a moral assumption that a person can *deserve* to die, that it is cosmically just for them to die, that them dying is evidence that the story itself is morally good and correct. Scar *deserves* to die, but it would be bad for Simba to kill him. So....cliff. (edit: yes, cliff then hyenas. But cliff first. Lol.)

Steven Universe, whatever else it's faults, took a step back and said "but if killing people is bad, then people dying is bad", and instead of dropping White Diamond off a cliff, asked "what would actual *restorative*, not punitive, justice look like? What would actual reparations mean here? If the goal is to heal, not just to punish, how do we handle those who have done harm?" And then did that.

Which I think is interesting, and that there was pushback against it is interesting.

It also reminds me of the folks who get very weird about Aang not killing Ozai at the end of Avatar. And like, Ozai still gets chucked in prison, so it doesn't even push back on our cultural ideas of punitive justice *that much.* and still, I've seen people get real mad that the child monk who is the last survivor of a genocide that wiped out his entire pacifist culture didn't do a murder.

[bitsy83]

How many people are still in the Encanto fandom? Show of hands! (Cause it's kinda hard to find people, that I don't already know, that are still in the fandom)

[bitsy83]

This is a fact! (Well, Bruno’s smaller but he did like this moment!)

Have you ever even briefly picked up someone much bigger than you? It delights them.

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[index]

[bitsy83]

Swords & Storytime - Page 12

First | Previous

And with that, this story is complete! Gonna take a short break from the comics for a few weeks while I finish up school finals, then I've got a different (darker) Nimona comic in the works that I'm planning to post next. (remember the 'Halloween comic' I mentioned last year?)

After that I've got a final short comic planned to cap off the series, so stay tuned!

[bitsy83]

I know I’m partially responsible for this, but man, did you punch my heart in the face with this!

Guys I've been holding onto this TSOT doodle for over 3 weeks now and I finally get to post it please enjoy (or don't enjoy because sad)

[bitsy83]

Before we know it, the logo will look like this:

Disney +

Disney+ changed their logo to reflect how the color and creativity is fading away :D

[bitsy83]

SO happy to have someone listen to my crazy ideas and make them a reality! Hope you all enjoy!

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 1: Mercy

Chapter 1 here we go - written in collaboration with @bitsy83! (Also available on ao3 here!)

-

Ambrosius was there when the sword went off. The deadly blast caught everyone by surprise - Ambrosius barely had a moment to think before grabbing his sword. It was a moment though, just long enough for him to gather his wits and knock the sword from Ballister’s hand before anyone else got hurt, Ballister included. The sword fell to the ground, sparking as it disintegrated into pieces. Ambrosius and Ballister stared at it, then at each other in shock. Then the guards leapt into action. Ballister was so stunned he didn’t fight back when they pinned his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees.

“I didn’t do it.” his voice was barely audible over the noise of the stadium. Then the guards started dragging him away, past the stunned cadets, back into the tunnels below the Glorodome. “I DIDN’T DO IT!” he shouted, finding his voice. “SOMEONE SWITCHED MY SWORD!”

Ambrosius had watched in shocked silence. There was nothing else he could do.

~ ~ ~

The queen was dead. It was all over the news. Killed by the commoner knight himself. What remained of the blaster-equipped sword was locked away as evidence while The Institute investigated the event. Everyone was saying it was an open-and-shut case - replicas of famous swords were easy to get, and Ballister could have easily gotten one and hidden an energy weapon in it. Why was the question that was bothering Ambrosius.

He’d read the write-ups explaining the psyche of the ‘deranged, previous street urchin who’d snapped under stress’, but he’d known the man for over a decade - the profile didn’t fit. Ballister wasn’t a murderer… unless the last ten years had all been an act. Had their friendship been a facade? Had Ballister been planning this for years? Was this his revenge on a system he felt had mistreated him for so long? Or had he been telling the truth on the night of the murder - that someone had switched his sword out, that he’d been set up? But then who had done it? Some terrorist faction that was just now showing itself? The kingdom had been peaceful for decades, why would something surface now?

Ambrosius needed to make sense of this. He trusted The Institute to take care of it, but impatience was getting the better of him. He’d asked for visitation rights several times in the days since the Queen’s murder, but each time he’d been denied. That man was a raving lunatic, they’d told him, and he needed to be kept calm and isolated.

That wasn’t what the dungeon’s camera feed was showing. Ambrosius sat back in his chair in The Institute’s security room, perplexed. The feed showed Ballister looking dejected, sitting in a cell, sometimes pacing, but mostly just… sitting there, not saying a word. No mad ravings like the guards had described. Ambrosius fast-forwarded the feed. Hours of footage, all showing the same thing; nothing. The guards were lying. Why? Why was nothing adding up?

Ambrosius turned away from the computer, rubbing his head. Staring at big screens always made his eyes hurt. Smaller screens, not so much. He flicked his phone open. A news article flashed on the screen; ‘Breaking News: Ballister’s Written Confession Revealed’. Ambrosius blinked. When had that happened? He’d already skimmed through the bulk of the security camera footage from the last few days, and he hadn’t seen anyone go to interview him.

He tapped the article. Sure enough, there it was. A confession of murder, along with enough broken grammar to convince anyone that the author had lost it. Ambrosius stared at the screen until his eyes hurt again. Why would Bal implicate himself if he'd said he was innocent? Now with a confession made clear, all that was left was the sentencing, and there was only one punishment for murder in the kingdom; death.

Years of feelings began to surface - the times they’d stayed out late getting nachos, the times Bal had comforted him when his parents had died - so many experiences built on love and trust. Ambrosius didn’t want to believe Ballister was a murderer. He didn’t want to lose him. He couldn’t lose him.

Ambrosius got up. The article had mentioned the sentencing would be that evening. There was something he could do - he’d heard of an old custom that someone of noble blood or of high status could call for mercy on a convict - not a full pardon, but a punishment could be lightened. As Gloreth’s direct descendant, Ambrosius could get a judge to give a lifetime of house arrest over hanging… if it was still valid.

Ambrosius headed to the court building. They would know if he could declare mercy and how. If he hurried, maybe he could save Bal’s life.

The receptionist knew about the custom, but didn’t know if it was still legal or who would handle it. It hadn’t been done in decades. She made some calls to different departments to see. Ambrosius dug his nails into his palm every time a call turned out fruitless. Time was ticking away. Time he didn’t have.

Finally, they found the answer; the custom was still legal. Better yet, they found out who would handle the proceeding - someone in the judicial building across the campus. There would be paperwork involved. Ambrosius hated paperwork.

Ambrosius didn’t say who he was pardoning, but he could see the confusion on the clerk’s face when he handed him the sheaf of necessary papers. There was only one person in line for sentencing, and who would pardon an obvious murderer?

Ambrosius sat in the lobby and pored over the forms. He needed proof of his lineage. He needed the exact charges against Ballister. He needed the name of the judge. So many fields. So many signatures. He didn’t have time for this! Maybe he could get the first page done, declare mercy, say he’d missed a page, and then finish the rest afterward. Anything to stall the proceedings long enough to get it all filled out.

The records building was his first stop. It wasn’t far, just a few minutes walk. Ambrosius jogged across the campus green. How much time did he have left? He glanced at a nearby clock tower. Then he froze.

In the distance, there was a black flag flying above the judgment tower. The papers in Ambrosius’s hands crinkled as he tightened his grip. A black flag meant an execution was in progress. He’d missed the sentencing.

Ambrosius broke into a run. Forget the paperwork. He’d declare mercy on the spot and worry about that later. But he needed to get there. He needed to get there NOW!

People hurried out of his way as he tore through side streets and courtyards. He ran, his pulse pounding in his ears. The flag was still at full mast. He could see the front doors to the tower in the distance, two guards out front.

The guards stepped in front of the doors as he approached.

“Closed event. Nobody else allowed in.”

Ambrosius didn’t stop. “Let me in! I need to mercy—”

“No one. Else. Allowed.” The guard stated again.

Ambrosius rushed them. It almost worked - they hadn’t expected that from Gloreth’s descendant. He’d nearly gotten his hand on the door handle when they grabbed him and shoved him backwards. Ambrosius didn’t relent. He pushed back, digging in his heels, reaching past them for the handle.

“Let me in!”

His fingers touched the handle briefly. Then he found himself thrown onto the ground, paperwork falling from his hand.

“Don’t make this difficult.” a guard growled.

Ambrosius was back on his feet in an instant, frantic.

“Or what?! I am a knight! Descendant of Gloreth!” He charged again, this time trying to grapple a guard.

“That doesn’t matter.” The other guard grabbed Ambrosius from behind. “Closed event. Direct orders.”

Ambrosius landed on his back again, his head hitting the pavement. He looked up at the sky for a moment, dazed. The black flag. It was being lowered.

“NO!”

The tower door opened and a reporter stepped out, absently scrolling through a notepad. The guards moved to let her pass. Ambrosius seized his chance and barrelled through the opening, past the guards, into the courtyard.

“STOP! I DECLARE MERCY!”

His voice echoed off the walls, startling the audience in front of the gallows. Everyone turned to look at him. Ambrosius charged through the crowd, ignoring them. The gallows looked empty. Where was the convicted?

“I declare mercy!” He shouted again, pushing his way to the front. Then he froze. He could see the base of the gallows now. A tower worker was working the noose off an all-too-familiar figure laying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

Ballister Boldheart was dead.