#have to kill yourself NOW !!

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

In the early weeks of my divorce (during the “we just need counseling and everything will be fine” delusion I was going thru) I decided I wanted to watch City of Angels. Cannot remember why for the life of me. We sat in the living room, awkward, opposite sides of the couch, trying to Be Present together and watch what I genuinely believed would be another schlocky Nic Cage movie to chortle at occasionally.

And maybe it is! Maybe it’s a schlocky Nic Cage movie to chortle at because it blows or something. But not to me. Because the first time I saw it, at age 28, I was beginning to comprehend that the person I had tied my entire life to did not love me. Probably hadn’t for years, possibly never had at all. I was on the “do we even need love? can’t we just be partners for our child?” stage of coping. I was in the mindset that I would never be loved again.

And I watched Nic Cage’s character visibly come to comprehend love, give up everything he’d ever known for the chance to just PHYSICALLY EXIST next to the woman he loved, and then, you know, the rest of the movie. And how loving her was worth it anyway.

And I looked at the person next to me scoffing at it all because, you know, schlocky Nic Cage film to chortle at.

And I silently cried until the credits rolled and immediately started packing my shit up. Because I realized I will never have that love from him. If I ever had, it was gone, and if it ever came back, I wouldn’t trust it. It was well and truly over.

So thanks schlocky Nic Cage movie City of Angels dir. Brad Silberling starring Meg Ryan you helped me understand that I did need a divorce actually.

[soulbrand]

man you all were not kidding abt the therapyspeak in veilguard.

[twinstxrs]

so much happened in this whole episode but i’m still on fig infiltrating ruben’s dream, making it look like the place where his friend was murdered, and then disguising herself as kipperlilly & repeatedly saying different variants of “somebody needs to take the fall for this, and it’s not going to be me. it’s going to be you.” while adaine as the elven oracle shows up next to her. can you imagine waking up from that, the idea of a horrible truth being pinned on you by your friend to save her own skin while the personification of fate and destiny stands there, almost as a promise that this is GOING to happen to you. we don’t even know if this kid is guilty. my god.

[buttclench-ryugazaki]

lord hades meets his daughter after who knows how long and whichever of many emotions emerge — fear, protectiveness, pride? grief, panic, affection, regret? — last about five seconds before all of them are singularly replaced with exasperation. the realization that both his blasted children are equally stubborn and will not listen to him gods FUCKING dammit

[fishwikipedia]

✷ PWG PPV GUIDE ✷

full list of all 217 PWG PPVs w/ links

[genderoutlaws]

went to buy hair dye today after work and got fucking chased down in the parking lot by 4 dudes in a car screaming slurs and shit at me abt my body and my hair and shit. and 2 ladies were walkin in front of me n no one said shit or asked if i was okay. being a girls girl isnt for dykes and heshes i am well aware but it always stings and it sucks feeling unsafe and also knowing theres no one on your side. cant show your heart or tears just have to rage and scream and fight back and hope for the best bc what else is there. last time i saw a girl in a parking lot getting yelled at by dudes in a car driving by i screamed go fuck yourselves and she thanked me and it felt good and i will always stand up fr others but i wish tough butch dykes had someone to stand up for us too sometimes. thts what femmes are for honestly but my femme is 200 miles away and im just Here. anyways i hope those guys get in a fiery car wreck and die

[imeriayapping]

[heroesriseandfall]

Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990

Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)

Transcription below the cut/readmore.

INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL

Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.

He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.

Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.

It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—

I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.

We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.

The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.

Dennis O’Neil

April 1990

[trappedinafantasy37]

Anybody else realize that it is news to Minthara to find out that Ketheric wasn't working alone? She knew about Orin this entire time, but still thought Ketheric to be the head of the Absolute. Obviously she knew Orin was involved with the Absolute and did something for them, but she didn't realize the extent of power Orin actually had. And I think it is pretty fascinating that Minthara "men are only useful for breeding" Baenre did not immediately presume that the woman was in charge or had any significant power in the Absolute.

Can you imagine how Minthara felt to find out that not only were Orin and Ketheric working together, but that they were equals? I think it only dawns on her how much danger she was in the entire time and just how little control she had over herself. She was made the personal plaything of one of the three prongs of the Absolute and was slowly being driven into the same kind of mad monster Orin was. So what would have happened to her if Ketheric fully claimed her like he had intended before Orin basically stole her? How much worse could Ketheric have done to her? Or was she only in her shit ass predicament, debased amongst goblin trash out of Ketheric's pettiness for Orin?

But like, she knows Orin is the Chosen of Bhaal so she already knows how powerful and dangerous she is. But it almost seems like after finding out Orin is Ketheric's equal, she kinda places her at the top of the hierarchy between the Chosen Three anyway and insists she is the most dangerous. By Menzoberranzan standards, she probably would see Orin as being the most deadly and dangerous. Because in her experience, the woman is the most powerful. Orin already did a lot of fucked up shit to her, but she realizes that Orin could have done so much worse.

It makes a bit more sense why Minthara's tone about Orin turns from rage to terror in between acts. She is the only character in the game that portrays Orin as a threat. Gortash, Sarevok, Fel - they all treat her like a joke, an annoyance, someone to roll your eyes at. But Orin has shown a side of herself to Minthara that others either don't see, or don't take seriously. Orin is cruel for cruelty's sake - she revels in the suffering she brings to others. Minthara has scars and nightmares left behind by Orin, and it ultimately meant nothing. No - Minthara's suffering empowered Orin. Chronologically, Orin probably got her hands on Minthara after taking out Durge and establishing herself as Bhaal's Chosen. She was on a winning streak. Minthara's torment was her celebration, her victory lap, a tool to establish herself as the true monster she wants to be seen as. Everyone in her life has overlooked her, so she created a victim who never will. A victim who is so paranoid, that she is constantly looking for Orin's presence everywhere she goes, because Orin could be anywhere... Orin could be anyone...

[uncanny-tranny]

Your fears that you don't have a body that will transition "well" are, sure, understandable, but there isn't truly such thing as a body that's unworthy of transition. Perhaps your changing body won't suit everybody's taste, but would you rather live for yourself or for the whims of random people who don't care about your happiness as long as they're attracted to what they see?

Transition is for anybody who wants it. It's okay to be fearful. It's okay to be uncertain. But it isn't the end of the world. You are in control, and if you choose to transition to any capacity, it should be at your behest. You and your body are worthy of transition. I hope you are able to seize transition and do what you truly want for yourself.

[therainbowwillow]

I love Epic The Musical very dearly but I do wish just a little bit that we’d gotten to watch Telemachus’s antics in Pylos. His gay awakening(?) over Pesistratus? Athena disguised as an old man?? Nestor and Menelaus?! HELEN! He really has a bewildering time away from Ithaca lol

[bearotonin-international]

Apex predator, my ass. I’m going to pet the dog 🐻🐻‍❄️🐼

perhaps now is a good time for some responsible bear programming to remind everyone that as cute and cuddly as they may seem, bears are lethal apex predators and should absolutely be treated accordingly if ever encountered.

DO

NOT

PET

[sonnetforbonnet]

Listen. One of my favorite parts of the "stab me" scene is Stede calling Ed a nut. Like, I could listen to him say "I've stabbed you, you nut!" over and over again. It's sweet, incredibly endearing, and just so so silly.

And then the writers had the absolute NERVE to bring it back when Ed died? How did they expect me to recover from this? Why would they devastate us in this way? What gave them the right?

[the-crooked-library]

okay so I gotta say, I don’t believe the whole “vampires cannot make good art” thing. I just don’t buy it. Like, call me biased, but as a writer, I don’t think you could talk the way they do and not be good at least at writing. There’s no way.

(you are a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis)

(I had powers now, and decades of rage to process - and so it was both random and unfortunate the man picked that night to dabble in fuckery) (I mean are you kidding me, that line is MUSIC)

(THE NAME! The name, unuttered in our home for twenty-three years - said over and over, until it was pounding in my head like a hammer!)

As such: what I personally think is actually happening is something far more mundane. Picture this - you've just been turned. Vampirism has enhanced everything about you, so your senses are like 10 times more distracting, you're stronger, faster, you're murdering nightly, you're most likely born out of some sort of trauma, and on top of that you've got years to compound whatever issues you already had - which, surprise surprise, are also somehow more intense now, whodathunk, mainly because your senses/murder/immortality are fucking with them BIG. Seriously, think about it: how much would vampire senses exacerbate symptoms of ADHD or autism? Would the species change, the nocturnal lifestyle, the mind gift contribute to dissociation, psychosis, schizophrenia? Would the killings and the loss of community be a factor in the way your depression might develop - or religious scrupulosity? OCD?

It's not that vampires cannot make good art. It's just that it becomes supremely difficult to do so, especially given that they cannot take human medication/finding a nocturnal therapist would be a bitch even if you're modern/Louiiss mon cher what eez a coping mechanisme y'know. I am convinced with 100000% certainty that, given enough time and dedication a vampire could absolutely make good art again* - though, in all fairness, very few of the ones we know possess the patience. Mind gifts/vampire speed + strength/inherited riches tend to destroy that sort of skill real fast; still, though, it's not a curse. It's symptoms disease.

* It is also possible, just as it is for humans, to develop all sorts of technical skills and still lack the “eye” for art (cough Marius cough) - but in that case, maybe try music?.. start writing? Get into ASMR? you’ve got an eternity to fuck around. Do whatever.

[muffinlance]

Next Dark Night in Ba Sing Se part! Is! Fully outlined!

...And so is the majority of series in lesser detail because oops my hand slipped.