#enough to despair about the lack of fanart

[thekittendraws]

There is way too little Sampard fanart on this site

[toons-and-doom]

grahhhh dandy and astro angst now

(no I do not ship moonflower, I’m not really one for ships 💔)

Tbh same, maybe I just haven’t been in this fandom long enough to really latch onto something but the fanart is cute

Read more because this is a bit of yapping

Hm

Graahhh I don’t think about these two more than I should

They are platonically / meteorically divorced in my head

Like they used to be besties but something happened and now they don’t talk

Let’s see what some dialogue Astro has with the other toons

1. Nice to know vee cares about Astro… does he get picked on a lot?

2. ‘ you need to start worrying about yourself ‘ perhaps it’s a reference to dialogues 3 and 4

3. By far the most interesting, ‘him’ is most likely dandy. Seems to imply their relationship is strained.

4. This shows some of the other toons are worried about him in one way or another, for what reason? Perhaps the Ichor operation.

Let’s see what twisted Astro’s description is;

"One of the Main Characters of Dandy's World. Overwhelmed by guilt and despair, this Twisted puts his grief on others. If you fail a Skill Check while on a machine and hide from him, Astro will steal completion from that Machine. Skill Check carefully!" - Twisted Research

AND LOOK AT WHAY DANDY SAYS WHEN UOU BUY ASTRO- OR LACK THEREOF

SOMETHING HAPPENED FOR SURE

So

My idea is

Dandy and Astro were besties.

The icbor operation starts causing dandy to…Change it some way. Hes acting differently no one can figure out what’s going on so Astro goes to confront him. Dandy ends up snapping at Astro due to stress and they end up fighting, cue a falling out. Dandy doesn’t have much to do with Astro anymore (dandy feels guilty but. This. This operation is more important). Astro feels bad, but keeps his distance.

Astro knows about the icbor operation. He didn’t say anything. The guilt eventually eats him alive.

Silly idea :333

Dandy has chronic nightmares. Astro always dispels them or soothes dandy after them. After they’re falling out, they get worse. When dandy turns, it hurts not to see Astro there anymore. But it’s not he can go back and undo all the things he said.

[rriavian]

Because I know what it's like to have way too many ideas and feel that some may never make it to paper:

☔

Thank you so much! I have so many concepts on my list that it feels like either I'm going to be making my way through them forever (at least I'll have ideas for season 2!) or they're never making it out of my head. So—

Dream and flower crowns.

I saw an amazing piece of fanart that inspired this idea and every time I see it I'm reminded of it again. At the moment I don't have a plot but...I really just want to write about Dream wearing a flower crown.

(These are the moments I wish I could draw!)

Did he make it himself? Sit somewhere in the Dreaming and quietly weave flowers together? Perhaps they are chosen for their significance, not necessary an associated meaning, more things like how one day Lucienne had softly commented on her love of daisies. Death might like orchids, Destiny might like lilies...Matthew might have specifically picked a cherry blossom tree to rest in during a walk through the Dreaming. The Corinthian had once trailed his hand along the petals of a poppy, smile a gleaming thing, content.

Perhaps Calliope had loved roses. Perhaps Orpheus had shown a fondness for wildflowers.

Perhaps Jessamy had adored violets.

Or maybe someone makes one for Dream? His creations newly returned perhaps combining their efforts; Lucienne who never left leading the way, an idea that might be someone else's for all she takes charge, and though his new raven can't weave Matthew can definitely pick the flowers. Fiddler's Green offers his forest. Gault tries to find a flower the colour of her wings. The Corinthian who has rebelled and yet still yearns might find one the colour of Dream's eyes.

And others join in too, maybe someone goes to them and suggests they add their own to the crown, Dream's siblings who undoubtably love him but will show it in their own uniquely Endless ways.

This perhaps a way to make it clear, a way for him to know—

And so when Dream is handed the finished crown he smiles, small and soft as is his custom, eyes starlit but also filled with a delicate sort of wonder. Perhaps he places it gently on his head, careful not to crush any of the flowers, threads power into it to ensure it won't wilt. Perhaps he wears it to the Endless family reunion, wears it and speaks not a word about his imprisonment, perhaps now certain that he'd been missed.

Perhaps making peace with it in his own uniquely Endless way.

Desire insults the crown with a mocking, delighted smirk (their own addition sits proudly on the left side, entwined with the rest). Death rolls her eyes, while Despair doesn't take her own off the crown. Destiny greets him with a solemn 'Brother Dream'. After a moment Delirium frowns and pouts at what she considers a disappointing lack different colours.

Perhaps Dream smiles then though he does not speak. Perhaps thanks can remain unspoken, sitting somewhere alongside how love can be shown without words.

Perhaps he does not need to answer.

Perhaps even unspoken forgiveness is enough.

[shinobicyrus]

Thank you for your tags on the squid game post

I'm honestly surprised anyone read those, lol!

I ended up discussing that post with a friend afterwards, and it honestly seemed a lot of people and comments were talking past each other? For sure, fandom culture can get particularly crazy in weird ways, and for certain shows I had to wade through popular ships I didn't care for to get to the stuff I wanted, which still existed.

But like, are coffee shop AUs really the problem here? Last I heard, Squid Game hasn't yet seen the level of real-world harassment and toxicity (yet) that has occurred in larger, older fandoms I will not name. It just seemed most of that post was criticizing the existence of...shipping and genre-bending fanfiction in general?

Like...really? That's where we're going, here? That people aren't enjoying things in a way you don't think is "deep" enough? I've seen plenty of people engaging with subject material for countless fandoms, debating characterization, speculating on details of the world hinted but not seen, reactions to twists, building wikis, wailing in despair about deaths of favorite characters, and y'know what - shipping is just as legitimate because good shipping requires a deep understanding of the involved characters - how they tick, how they interact with other characters; one comment that really stuck with me was someone saying that Squid Game fanfic was like the "equivalent to making anime boy aus of an orwell novel."

Here's the thing. There's a very good reason why Lord of the Rings, a book just a few years younger than 1984, has a modern fandom culture and Orwell's stuff doesn't: Winston from 1984 is not that interesting of a character. At least, I didn't find him particularly interesting.

1984 was a book more about Orwell's politics, and the politics - the ubiquitous phrases often used ad nauseum in our political discourse - was what survived to modern times. I think we can say Orwell accomplished his goal, there. Meanwhile, even though I read 1984 and greatly enjoyed it, I still had to google Winston and Julia's names because I forgot them.

Compare that to when Sherlock Holmes "died" in 1893 - over fifty years before Orwell published his book. Holmes fans wore black armbands to show that they were in mourning. They caused such an uproar that their beloved fictional character died that Conan Doyle was compelled to outright retcon his death. This was over a century ago, and Sherlock fanfiction is still going on because he was and continues to be a compelling and iconic character. Can we really say the original Holmes fans engaged with the subject matter those stories? Maybe, maybe not, but fandoms have always been like this.

Maybe Squid Game has fanfic and fanart and people excited about it because of the characters? Maybe some of those people are in similar situations as those characters: poor, in-debt, feeling the neverending anxiety and despair of this increasingly lopsided system, and they watched the show and saw people suffering like they were, and they create positive fanfiction as a nice escape? A catharsis? You don't know!

Most of Squid Game's gigantic audience - what truly propelled that show to success - are everyday mainstream folks that have not and probably never will have any exposure to fandom spaces, and they greatly outnumber the people making coffee shop AUs. If we want to talk about lack of engagement with the anti-capitalist themes of the show, how about we start with them?

Squid Game made Netflix over 800 million dollars while the show's creators, cast, and crew saw next to nothing of that.

And the mainstream, non-fanfictiony consumers of SG barely noticed. If that's not a lack of engagement of the show's themes, I don't know what is.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer. 

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist. 

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard. 

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world. 

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle. 

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol. 

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K  O F F,  C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.) 

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.) 

They head to a church. 

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael. 

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though. 

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.) 

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen. 

Dean gets a call. 

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt. 

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO. 

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer. 

UGH. 

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. 

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.) 

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) 

Betty is the new Death! 

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.) 

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it. 

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers. 

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.) 

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers. 

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.   

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE. 

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack. 

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck. 

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores. 

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[airitouttwst]

Do you, um, have any headcanons about Ace's big bro? 😳 Share?? Please??

A CRASH COURSE ON ANIPOLA 101

[Courtesy of @bobaryn​. I’m finally bringing my shit-simping of Anipola to Tumblr huhuhuhuhuhuhu)

Hi, anon! Sorry it took me some time to answer this (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ), but I had to collect my thoughts because of the powerful brain rot that I inadvertently inflicted upon myself when I was going through my powerpoints ueeeeeeee (ಥ﹏ಥ)

For the sake of being attentive and mindful to spoilers to personal stories, lemme just put the data underneath the line wwww. There’s nothing NSWF btw wwww. We can save that for another ask? BAHAHA (I’ll get k-worded)

Okay, okay, game time, game time (✪‿✪)ノ

(The following information below has been cited informally via CSE-style; for the ones without citations at the end, those are purely headcanons of Anipola mostly as a sibling to Ace and my inane simp-talk about him. This is not in any way meant to be academic.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who is Anipola?

Anipola is the slang and informal reference to Ace’s older brother. 

Not much is known about him in canon.

Exceptions being [1]:

He is an alumni of Night Raven College.

He is 7-years older than Ace Trappola.

He was sorted out into the Heartslabyul Dormitory.

He has been not only a thorn to Ace’s side but also one of the prominent guiding lights during his childhood and younger adolescent years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HEADCANON 1: The “Annoying Older Sibling”

When Ace was younger, Anipola had blown out all the candles of his birthday cake and woah did they have a huge fight over it www [2].

Furthermore, during another one of Ace’s birthdays, Anipola brought out a really cool watch and showed it to Ace who’d believed it was going to be his [2].

Anipola: “Psyche, just a joke hahaha. Here, have this other gift. Just kidding~ That’s empty toooo—wah! Hey, no, don’t pull my hair!”  < (The dialogue is just my headcanon to what happened wwww).

From this we, can suppose that Anipola may also have a trickster characteristic and you expect to be teased by him. And, hey, maybe he’ll even pull some pranks on you sometimes? (人◕ω◕)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HEADCANON 2: A “Mentor” to Ace

Anipola is very good with magic tricks, especially card ones, and has displayed this during Ace’s birthday parties [2]. Furthermore, he’d taught Ace a few tricks with the sole exception of card tricks—here, Anipola stubbornly refused to teach Ace who eventually learned how to do it himself by attentively watching his brother’s hand movements [3].

As harsh as this may sound, this could also be taken in as a lesson. Anipola could have wanted to teach Ace to be able to be somewhat independent, having him hone his skills for copying techniques and fleshing it out into Ace’s current ability right now as shown by how talented he is with imitating Rook Hunt’s example of speaking in the language of moles after just being demonstrated once! [3]

From this, we can assume that Anipola is good with his hands ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and really just wants Ace to be the very best version of himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HEADCANON 3: In spite of being a thorn in Ace’s side, Anipola is a really good older brother

Ace has explicitly mentioned of how happy and proud Anipola had been when he’d learned that Ace had been accepted into Night Raven College and even into Heartslabyul [1].

He’d given Ace some advice such as: “When you’re lying, mix a bit of truth in it” and also on the best spots as to where to stay when skipping classes—the courtyard being a prime example [4].

From this, we can see a bit more of Anipola’s cunning and sly attitude that Ace himself could have been influenced by. Take note that I’m NOT saying that Ace himself is a carbon copy or Anipola or vice-versa, since the two are their own characters and have their own personalities and struggles. What I’m saying that Ace could have found Anipola to be his role model, even if he would deny it, and Anipola, in turn, has a significant amount of trust in Ace to not get himself into too much trouble (e.g. fail a year because of so many absences from class) with how he’s encouraged Ace’s truant behavior. Also, he just wants his younger brother to have a generally good time while in school. He’s a good older brother UEEEEEEEEE ╥﹏╥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HEADCANON 4: Close with his family

I don’t have solid enough evidence for this, but it has been mentioned that the Trappola Family have little competitions at home (like with card tricks) [2], and this could signify that the family has relatively good relations with each other. But I don’t want to assume just yet, with the lack of evidence.

BUT I DO WANNA SAY THAT UEEEEEEEEE MY BRAIN IS ROTTING AT THIS THOUGHT UEEEE. I LEGIT SHED SOME TEARS FOR THIS BECAUSE CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE?!?!? THE TRAPPOLA FAM JUST DUKING IT OUT, ALL SERIOUS LIKE BECAUSE THEY DON’T WANNA LOSE, AND THAT’S SOOOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! б（＞ε＜）∂ I WANNA ATTEND THAT COMPETITION TOO UEEEEEEEEEEEE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference List: 

[1] Ace Trappola’s R School Uniform [2] Ace Trappola’s SSR Birthday Suit [3] Ace Trappola’s SR Ceremony Robes [4] Ace Trappola’s SSR Dorm Uniform

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A simple Laundromat’s Thoughts:

Thank you for tuning in to such an embarrassing thing (´﹃｀) HUHUHUHU but this is what I generally feel about Anipola. 

I’ve only ever seen him in fanarts or fanworks, showcased in a way that he might have been his time’s Heartslabyul Dorm Leader, a Jack of Hearts version, one of the motivators to have Ace betray NRC (Ace betrayal is merely a theory and not canon! www), demon version, him in his NRC days, generally being a good older brother, visiting Ace during the Halloween event, and visiting Ace during the VDC competition. One thing in common is that he has the same eyes as eyes and, 96% of the time, has the same shade of hair as him.

But, most importantly, all these talented artists have illustrated him in such a handsome way and, to all of you, thank you. You’re all amazing and god, do I just slave away for your works. When I’m more stable in the future, I’d like to be able to commission you for your works or even send payments to you because (ಥ﹏ಥ) they’re all so beautiful holy shit.

In any case, the people in the discord server I’m in get to see me get utterly wrecked by just a single mention of him in chat or even a fanart of him UEEEEE. I’m very very grateful for the server, though, since I get so much food from there (´﹃｀). If ever Yana-sensei gives him an official character design, I’d grovel over and scream until my throat is hoarse—but for now, though, I’m safe and in despair because HNGHHH ANIPOLAAA

Oh oh! If any of you know any Tumblr people who post or like Anipola, pls feel free to message me ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

[katcadecascade]

Reader Study (Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint Oneshot)

*spoilers up to chapter 79

Summary: 

“Your face is getting red, Kim Dokja.”

“No it’s not.”

She didn’t need to use lie detection.

Han Sooyoung clapped her hands, peering down at him with a wide grin. “What kind of fanfics did you read?”

Kim Dokja is both impressed and exhausted by the fact that he’s surviving in the apocalypse.

Most of that credit is due to him being the sole reader to know about the webnovel that just happens to become is new reality. There’s still a lot of confusion on how that came to be. Kim Dokja has encountered character from the novel, the deadly scenarios, and even people who were never a part of this once fictional world.

“Are you finally taking a break from your airbending training?”

There were other readers. They didn’t stay with the novel like he did so his title as sole reader remains.

Techniqually…

“Stop ignoring me.” Despite that, Kim Dokja tried his best to ignore his current companion. She continues, “I know what you’re thinking. ‘Why can’t I learn the Way of the Winds skill?’ Its because you’re not the protagonist Kim Dokja.”

Han Sooyoung. The first Apostol, she read the most of the original Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse aside from his truly. Except she does know a lot more about the novel than others.

Because she plagiarized it.

Or not as she claims every time he calls her out.

Either way she knows about the world. That means she’s dangerous if left alone. Hell, she’ll gather up another cult like what she did with the Apostles and Prophets.

So since Kim Dokja has been separated from his companions, living in the consequences of a kingless world, he struck a temporary contract with Han Sooyoung until the next main scenario.

He’s really regretting his decision.

“Maybe I’ll ask Lycaon to teach me to be an airbender since it’s so important to you. I probably have the SSS grade talent you lack.”

“No.”

Someone needs to learn the Way of the Wind skill to go against the Disaster of Questions. Kim Dokja doesn’t trust Han Sooyoung with that power and the original protagonist is nowhere nearby to get this skill in time.

Logically, he thought he should get the skill but apparently, Lycaon has deemed him void. Despite that, Kim Dokja tried to train with the wolf monster. So after a good few hours of nothing, he finally took a break and is lying flat on his back in the remains of the business district.

“You’re a real rat bastard, Kim Dokja.”

“And you’re a real rat plagiarist.”

“I didn’t plagiarize!” She’s sitting away from him but close enough to kick his foot. “Everything I wrote I saw in a dream and from that point on my novel became popular due to my own writing skills. It became so popular I even got fanfics!”

“I can’t believe you’re bragging about that. They’re probably not even good.”

[Han Sooyoung has activated the skill ‘Lie Detection.’]

[‘Lie Detection’ has verified his words as false.]

“Oh?”

Why did he open his mouth? It’s been a long day of (futile) training under Lyacon. The world is in more ruin because of his choice at the Absolute Throne scenario. He’s away from his friends. The Disaster scenarios are arrive in a few days. Kim Dokja is with the one other person who has read his favorite novel in depth.

Ways of Survival didn’t get popular, it lost a lot of readers. In other words, it never got any fanfics.

But Han Sooyoung’s SSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor did get a plethora of fanart and fanfics.

So maybe one night curiosity got the better of Kim Dokja and searched for some fanfics of a protagonist very similar to Yoo Jonghyuk.

“Your face is getting red, Kim Dokja.”

“No it’s not.”

She didn’t need to use lie detection.

Han Sooyoung clapped her hands, peering down at him with a wide grin.

“What kind of fanfics did you read?”

Kim Dokja has been lying back, slowing regaining his breath from training. He only has enough stamina to simply roll over and face the opposite direction.

Han Sooyoung merely scooted over to his other side, still grinning.

He turns again.

“You read the steamy fics,” she accused.

“I did not.”

[Han Sooyoung has activated the skill ‘Lie Detection.’]

[‘Lie Detection’ has verified his words as truth.]

“Boo.”

“Did you read your novel’s fanfics?”

“Of course not! That goes against an author’s ethics of copyright.”

He just stares at her.

She glares, “I’m not a plagiarist.”

Kim Dokja would love to have the lie detection skill right now.

Han Sooyoung rolls her eyes and offers up, “Occasionally I’ll check the number of fics and see what the most popular tags is. That’s about it.”

A dangerous expression washes over her face as she remembers what exactly the most popular type of fic is. He can see her calculating the probability of Kim Dokja ever reading those type of fics.

Han Sooyoung stares at him with an open mouth smile.

“You, Kim Dokja, may be one of the strongest incarnations, a pain in the ass to me, the dokkaebi, and the constellations, but in reality,” she snorts at that word, “you are weak.”

She didn’t even need to ask. And yet Kim Dokja already feels defeated.

At least he did not admit it aloud.

No way will Kim Dokja verbally admit that he read self-insert fics as the protagonist’s lover.

It gets a little more worse when he remembers he read female self-inserts before finally scavenging the he or they pronoun fics.

But look at him now.

He’s in his favorite novel and met its protagonist.

Kim Dokja wouldn’t call their first introduction a ‘meet cute.’

No way does any of their encounters qualify as romantic. They fought and disagreed and their last encounter ended with Kim Dokja punching Yoo Jonghyuk into unconsciousness. If anything, Kim Dokja’s aim to be Yoo Jonghyuk’s companion is a fantasy.  

Han Yoosong apparently thinks otherwise.

She mockingly pats his shoulder with comfort, “You must be living your fics. Charming your way into Yoo Jonghyuk’s cold barriers.”

“He wants to kill me.”

“Yeah but has he yet?”

Despite the fact that Kim Dokja could come up with many reasons, he says nothing.

Yoo Jonghyuk could’ve killed him at the bridge, at the stations, and, well maybe not at the Throne because of Kim Dokja’s strategy. Every time Kim Dokja said something or did something to convince Yoo Jonghyuk that they are equals and needed each other for upcoming scenarios.

They have yet to ever be on the same page without annoying the other.

And yet Kim Dokja expected this.

It’s the one thing many self-insert fics lack.

As much as Kim Dokja secretly enjoyed the gooey romance orientated stories, none ever measured up with the real stubbornness of Yoo Jonghyuk.

He’s a protagonist who has suffered and thrived and flourished and dealt with impossible odds and despaired and will eventually reach the ending of this story.

Kim Dokja stayed with him for three thousand chapters. Now he wants to stay with Yoo Jonghyuk to… to…

Ah… he got too caught up with the self-inserts fics. A lot of those ended with marriage or something equally domestic.

That’s not an ending deserving of Kim Dokja.

All he wants is for Yoo Jonghyuk and the tohers to make it to the end of this story.

“Hey, you lost in thought about kissing Yoo Jonghyuk?”

“No!”

[Han Sooyoung has activated the skill ‘Lie Detection.’]

[‘Lie Detection’ has verified his words as false.]

She raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“Only because you just said it.”

“Sure,” she smiled like a liar.

Somehow it is the opposite smile of Yoo Jonghyuk’s smile when he threw Kim Dokja off the bridge and into the sea serpent’s mouth.

It’s frustratingly easy to remember how the last sunrays of the normal world is casted behind the protagonist. Seeing that damning smirk finalized the reality Kim Dokja is in.

This wouldn’t be Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse without Yoo Jonghyuk.  

This wouldn’t be Kim Dokja’s favorite novel without Yoo Jonghyuk.

This wouldn’t be Kim Dokja’s life without Yoo Jonghyuk.

So if Kim Dokja indulged into a few reader-insert fics where Yoo Jonghyuk fought by his side, survived by his side, was happy by his side, then call Kim Dokja a hopeless romantic.

“You are a hopeless romantic.”

“Why?” He demanded, less embarrassed and more worried if Han Sooyoung read his thoughts.

“I was there when Yoo Jonghyuk came bursting through the room before the Throne scenario. His eyes were only on you and you just exploded with sunshine.” She sticks her tongue out in disgust.

“I did not,” he shuttered, finally sitting up to defend himself with the little dignity he has left. “Sunshine?”

Han Sooyoung nods as if her words are obvious. She crossed her arms and scowled, “You read too many self-inserts.”

Kim Dokja shuts his jaw. If he says nothing she would not use lie detection.

The results are the same though.

Han Sooyoung laughs meanly, “I don’t blame your taste. Well he’s not for me but I guess he could be a real heartthrob.”

Kim Dokja sighs instead of agreeing.

Technically, all those fics were derived from Han Sooyoung’s protagonist.

As for Kim Dokja’s protagonist, he never got the creative drive (or sacrifice his dignity) to ever write his own self-insert with Yoo Jonghyuk.

Kim Dokja is a reader first and foremost.

And yet he still ends up inserted into Ways of Survival trying to overcome the scenarios, to outsmart the dokkaebi, and to eventually face off against the constellations.

All the while being Yoo Jonghyuk’s companion.

That last one is a work in progress.

“How many fanfics I’ve read doesn’t matter,” Kim Dokja says to Han Sooyoung, but it’s mostly to remind himself too.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” she smirks. “I think we’re in a classic canon divergence story.”

He scratches his chin, “That could be true.” As Han Sooyoung grins triumphantly, he says, “Maybe you didn’t plagiarize. You just wrote a big fanfiction.”

“Hey!”

He slow claps, “What a devoted fan.”

“At least I’m not in love with the protagonist.”

Kim Dokja nearly chokes, “I’m no-“

He shuts up before the display message appears.

[Han Sooyoung has activated the skill ‘Lie Detection.’]

She bats her eyelashes. “I’m waiting.”

“I hate you.”

[‘Lie Detection’ has verified his words as truth.]

“Because I’m not Yoo Jonghyuk,” she said, undefeated.

“Would you drop it?”

“No because it’s kind of flattering. You read fanfics of my novel and it has prepared you for the real deal! So what have you’ve done so far to capture his heart?”

“I’m not going to capture his heart.”

“Why not? He’s already obsessed with you.”

“Why would you think that?”

Han Sooyoung shrugged, “I’m a writer. I see things.”

Kim Dokja just blinks and lies back down.

“Don’t you want to know what I see?”

“Absolutely not, Han Sooyoung.”

“Imma tell you anyway.” His cry in protest is ignored. “In a crowded room where nearly everyone is killing each other, the time limit for the qualifying kings is ticking away-“

“You don’t have to describe it. I was there.”

“…and there! Fashionably late and very dramatic, the last king arrives but he pays no mind to anyone except one-“

“That was the one and only time you’ve seen us together and it was very short.”

“Nah uh,” she shakes her head, “My beheaded avatar. Yoo Jonghyuk practically presented it to you like a cat presenting their kill.”

Kim Dokja opens his mouth and closes it, having nothing to counter that simile.

“If you think I know little then what does that say about you?” She counters as if this is a riddle. “Kim Dokja believes he hasn’t made an impact on Yoo Jonghyuk? The only one who dares to upstand him, shouldering on herculean challenges, and hindering the plans of a great author?”

He frowns, “Are you insulting me or complimenting me?”

“Insulting because you’re too stupid realize that not only are you in a fictional genre, you will easily fall into a romance genre.” She angrily clicks her tongue, “How did an ugly guy like you get a hot harem?”

“My friends are not a harem.”

“Sort seems like it.”

Kim Dokja rubs his eyes, too tired of all this nonsensical conversations.

“My point is,” Han Sooyoung pokes his forehead to make sure he’s paying attention, “that you’re really becoming a reader-insert story. That usually leads to getting dicked down by the protagonist.”

Kim Dokja buries his red face in his hands.

“I’m just saying!”

“Then stop talking!”

“No way,” she pauses for a moment and taps her forehead, “where was I going with this again?”

“You decided to stop talking,” Kim Dokja said in hopes that this conversation will end.

“Nah,” Han Sooyoung waves her hand flippantly and then suddenly snaps her fingers with a grin, “Oh yeah, I was going on about the fact that Yoo Jonghyuk is in love with you like how you are in love with him.”

He just stares at this awful woman and quietly says, “He wouldn’t.”

“Must I repeat all the things I’ve told you?” Fortunately, she doesn’t but instead says, “You’re becoming way too important to a lot of people, including your protagonist.” Han Sooyoung grins, “I’ve read enough fanfiction to know where that goes.”

Kim Dokja unfortunately has read enough fanfiction too.

“Well Han Sooyoung, you’re wrong because the next time I see Yoo Jonghyuk he will likely kill me.”

His confidence does not change Han Sooyoung’s mind. “I think he’s trying to find you at this very moment.”

“To kill me,” he reinstates.

“But,” she flashes a smile, “if he doesn’t kill you immediately, it could be a sign.”

Again, Kim Dokja says nothing to argue against that because… well…

Han Sooyoung interrupts his thoughts with a singsong voice, “Sign of love!”

He stands up and goes back over to Lycaon to try training again, thoroughly ignoring the woman’s complaints.

Everything Han Sooyoung said has some misguided truths. This is the apocalypse. Everyone is depending on someone stronger to survive.

But this isn’t just any other apocalypse, this is the a story Kim Dokja knows from beginning to end. In spite of whatever future awaits them, he will do everything he can to use his knowledge to save everyone.

It’s almost expected that there will be moments where he did not see things coming.

For example, Yoo Jonghyuk showing up and not killing him.

It’s mostly because he’s poisoned.

Oh and the fact that the Disaster of Questions is waking up.

After buying their Midday Tryst and agreeing to the Oath of Existence, Yoo Jonghyuk agreed to not harm and instead cooperate with Kim Dokja for the time being.

All at the price of that Yoo Jonghyuk can hit Kim Dokja once.

Kim Dokja has no idea if this is a sign of love or not.

Maybe he’ll find out once that hit comes.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Smile (Shinsou x Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader

For anon (request)

Genre: Slight angst to fluff

Summary: Shinsou has a crush on someone in 1-B and works up the courage to ask them on a date.

Tags: @wwwwyamd​ @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

Word count: 1,680

a/n: Ah, I missed writing for my tired purple boy. I just miss him in general, when I was searching for fanarts to post, I really was like “Damn I really miss Shinsou.”  How many of you agree?

So this is a request that some of you have seen already, but I don’t quite want to spoil anything for anyone who’s new, so I’ll post it at the end.  I'm glad I was able to extend this longer than I was planning, because I really only had just the one scene from the request in mind vividly and the rest I wrote as I went along.

I have 3 more requests, but I'm gonna take a break from them so I can write some of my own original ideas before starting those up again, so look forward to that!  Enjoy this one!

(Also gender neutral pronouns they/them coming through!)

Buy me a coffee?

Shinsou first saw his crush at the beginning of the first semester.  He was taken by their quirk, a pretty flashy light quirk.  From what he overheard while they were telling their 1-B friend - he was totally not stalking, Shinsou doesn't stalk people - they can control the color of the light to do different things.

"Red light is a heat laser, green light heals, yellow warms things, blue cools things," they explained, the proudest smile on their face.  "I'd say it's pretty versatile.  And the more saturated the colors are, the more powerful they work!"

Shinsou was already intrigued by their quirk, but seeing their face light up was like icing on an already delicious cake.  The sparkle in their hazel eyes, adorably smaller form that's the right right height for him to kiss their head, a smile he already decided he wanted to protect.  If only he could go over there and ask them to tell him more about their quirk, but he was afraid that his intimidating figure would scare them away.  Discouraged, he walked back to his own class to mope.  Crushes and him never worked out in the past anyway; once they found out about his quirk, they would either run for the hills or try to abuse him.

However, he still longed to be with them.  He found himself naturally searching through a crowd to find them.  Each time, they would have the most brilliant smile on their face as they chatted with their friends.  It always put a smile on Shinsou's face that they were happy being in the company of good friends.  More and more, he found himself craving them to smile at something he said, to pat their head to greet them, just to hold them in his arms for a warm hug.  It became less of a want and more of a need, but he held himself back for his heart's sake.

After the Sports Festival came and went, Shinsou had a change of heart.  He's not a villain, he will only appear that way if he comes off like that.  He won't let his quirk define him, and he'll make a much more pleasant impression so they wouldn't think of him as dark.  He took the opportunity to work on himself as a person, gain more confidence in himself so he can put his best foot forward.  He's won't let himself lack in any department, he'll only show the best parts of himself and present himself to them in a new-and-improved form.

After training with Aizawa for a while - not to mention bulking up quite a bit to improve his chances - Shinsou decides on the right time to face them.  The purple haired boy practically shakes with anticipation the entire day.  During his last class, he rehearses the words he's wanted to say since he first saw them.

"You're such a bright, shining person.  To me, you stand out among everyone else.  I'd like to get to know you better, would you mind going out with me?"

He second guesses every word and intonation, convinced that even the slightest error would throw the entire mood off and send the whole thing crashing down.  He won't let that happen.

The final bell rings and Shinsou's practically the first person to jump from him seat, throw his belongings haphazardly into his bag, and rush out the door of the school building.  Stationing himself at a nearby bench, he waits for them to come out, tapping his foot impatiently while still trying to look casual shoving his hands in his pockets.

Scanning the crowd of exiting students like a human radar, he searches for that smile he adores.  His heart practically beats out of his chest when he locks onto them, homing in on them without paying any mind to the surrounding students.  He collects himself and breathes, keeping in step behind them.  They're talking to a friend of their's, going on about hero training and homework.  He could listen to them talk indefinitely if he wanted, but then he wouldn't have the chance to confess his feelings.

Just you practiced big guy, go on.  Do it for that precious smile.  Shinsou gathers his wits and approaches just a bit closer.  Do I say "hey?'" "Hi?"  "Yo?"  Damn it, just do what's natural!  Calm down!  He bites the bullet.  "Hey."  He's proud that it sounds casual enough.

The apple of his eye turns around curiously, their smile just faltering slightly from their conversation with their friend.

Take it away big guy.  "Hey, I noticed you around.  I think you're-"

It's then he notices.  The way their eyes widen, the smile drops completely from their face, their skin turns pale, and Shinsou isn't sure why.  He's sure he didn't say anything wrong, he's barely said anything.  "Is-"

They let out a yelp and hide behind their friend, squeezing their eyes shut and quivering.  Beyond bewilderment, Shinsou's chest hurts as his world darkens.  The one person he wanted to smile at him and lighten his life plunged him into despairing blackness.  All his fear of people hating him for his quirk and being frightened of him resurfaced.  He feels naked, vulnerable, and ashamed all at once standing there frozen.

"You have to forgive them, it's not your fault."  The friend offers a sympathetic smile.

"Did I do something wrong?"  The entire ego he's spent the last few months popped in two seconds flat.

"No, it's not you, trust me."  The girl pats the frightened soul behind her on the had to comfort them.  "You see, they have a deathly fear of purple."

It almost sounds like some twisted joke, a prank the universe was playing on him for some unknown reason.  "Oh.  I see."  That's all Shinsou manages to say in response.  At least he's doing his best not to show how heartbroken he is.

"Sorry about that," the girl flashes another sheepish smile in half-comfort while his crush drags her away by the arm to escape  what anyone from the outside would think is a monster.

And the monster is him.

Shinsou is way past disgruntled once he gets home.  He doesn't know what to do now, what can he do now.  Giving up would be the easiest thing to do, especially with how dejected he feels.  The thing that hurts him the most is his sunshine who he never saw without their smile didn't smile when they were around him, all because of something else about him that he can't change.

He swiftly sits up from his laying position as an idea strikes him.  Or can he?

Two weeks later, Shinsou shows up to school so people barely recognize him.  He'd bought one of those hair coloring conditioners in black and washed his hair with it last night, and the brown colored contacts arrived shortly after he placed his order online.  Shinsou isn't the type of guy to give up that easily, and for someone he really wants to get to know, he'll make it work.  If he can temporarily change his appearance just to get to know them first, maybe he can be the one to help them get over their fear little by little.

Shinsou brushes away all the comments about his drastic appearance change; he's doing it for them and that's all that matters.  He decides this time to just approach them at lunchtime, no dramatic openers or well-timed moments; a friendly conversation is just as good an introduction as he can get now.

He approaches them while throwing away their lunch alone, tapping their shoulder.  "Hey."  He holds his breath when they turn around again, eyes scanning his figure for recognition.  "You don't know me, I'm in 1-C, we haven't spoken before."

A friendly grin spreads on their face.  "Oh, it's good to meet you!"

The boy inwardly cheers in victory.  "I'm Shinsou, your name is?"

"(Y/n)."

He rubs the back of his neck.  He wants to be honest, but doesn't know how they'll take it.  "I tried to talk to you a few weeks ago, but you were startled and ran off before I could say anything."

Their hazel eyes widen slightly before guilt morphs into their features.  "Oh, you're that guy.  I'm really sorry I did that to you, I must've made you feel awful."  They groan, a sound Shinsou admittedly finds cute, red color rushing to their cheeks, "And you even changed your hair color and everything, I'm really sorry!"

"Hey, it's okay."  Shinsou offers empathetically, "You shouldn't feel bad about things that you have no control over."  He knows that feeling all too well.  "I put the effort in because I want to get to know you better, it's not something you should feel bad about.  I think you're cool, from what I've seen.  We should hang out."

The boy can tell how taken back but grateful they are, a deep rooted appreciation shines from their eyes and more color saturating their cheeks.  "I'm not that special, but I think you're a cool guy for doing this for me."

Shinsou's heart can't help but feel captured once again by their vulnerability.  "It's what's on the inside that matters, I guess.  Can I join you for the rest of lunch?"

And finally, he's rewarded with what he's wanted to see:  His bright light shows him a beaming, toothy grin that crinkles up their eyes and puffs out their cheeks; it's a smile that's directed straight at him.  As his heart thumps wildly in his chest, the boy thinks he can die happily in this very moment.  "Of course!  Let's go sit."

It takes him a moment and a cough to clear his throat before he's back on Earth, nodding and following them back to their table.  As they walk next to him, he steals a few glances down, hoping that nothing else goes wrong.  Even if they do, he knows he'll have to find a way to work around them.  With that battery-charging smile, he knows he can figure out the solution to any problem.

So the full request from Anon was: “Hey you could take ALL the time at this but it wouldn't be sad if Shinsou's crush, the reader, is porphyrophobic. That means the reader is scared of the color purple. Have a good day!"

I hope I did it justice, it was originally gonna be just full angst, but it would only be drabble length, so I took it a step further.  I hope it made you guys feel all warm inside :3

[shigure]

i think about shinobu kocho a lot and how even though I’m (thank god) not as perpetually angry as she is, she’s angry for the same reasons i am. she’s angry BECAUSE she’s angry, because that anger is housed in the body of someone so small and ineffectual that it may as well be meaningless. imagine having the honed rage and innate talent to be one of the most skilled people in the world and recognized as such - and your body is so small and weak that even at your best, you’re the only one in the group that isn’t strong enough to behead a demon. what an insult. imagine being the best you could possibly be, better than almost anyone could ever hope to train to become, and you still lack the power to express your anger in the berserker wrath that you were meant to summon up. imagine not being able to scream because you’re overcome with hatred at how pitiful and pointless that scream would be.

the only thing stopping me from reading the manga is how sick i’ll feel when her death happens because it happens due to her weakness… and of course it's a very personal issue for me. I can’t imagine the despair and rage when douma gets her. scratch that, i can imagine it, I’ve felt it. i know exactly how it feels to be poised because you’re weak and can’t let yourself show that weakness. i know exactly how hard it is to forgive a world that showed you nothing but injustice for yourself and others but denied you the strength to do a single thing about it. i know exactly what it’s like to emulate someone who was nothing but light and grace and forgiveness because you know it’s your only salvation, because you’re never gonna find that key to power. to recognize that even if anger is your lot in life, you still have the power to be graceful about it. and that’s all the power you have.

i can’t get over fanart of shinobu holding douma’s head in the palm of her hand after they die. what a romantic notion. imagine if she could have done it. finally summoning up the strength, and it’s to the strongest enemy she'd ever faced. and he'd be impressed, and he'd recognize her. imagine her finally having power over a demon like that. Personally I don’t ship them at all but if i were her holding his head like that i would kiss him on the mouth! even if people getting eaten is something that makes my stomach turn I don’t care. it’s just very romantic. I just wish he found a more interesting way of killing her. wish he’d recognized her enough to give her that much.. to let her die like a man or at least like a person. poo

[natsumiheart]

A rant talking about and defending Saihara Shuichi from haters for like an hour for his birthday.

(Warning: This post is long, again.)

Over the last (two-three???) years after DRV3 has been released I actually came across Shuichi haters here and there, and I have seen their arguments as to why they think he sucks, why he should’ve died, why Kaede should’ve survived instead, etc. Making full on posts on amino, or just scribbling his face on drawings of him and reposting the edited art on instagram. (Don’t do that to anyone’s art that’s disrespectful as hell, disgusting.)

So after I’ve seen all that, I’m going to explode and defend Shuichi right here on his birthday. I rant a lot so it’s not really new or anything so! Enjoy?

> “Shuichi doesn’t deserve to be a detective, he’s so dumb and afraid of the truth.”

Shuichi IS afraid of the truth, but he’s smart as hell. Let’s discuss something, would you, in all honesty, want Shuichi to be exactly like Kirigiri? Because most of the people who believe Shuichi is actually not smart had these expectations for him.

First off, that would be very unoriginal and unlike the writing in danganronpa. What I like about the games is how every character is written, they are all so different and unique. Just because Shuichi is the ultimate detective doesn’t mean he is going to be Kirigiri level or act like her, same as Nagito and Naegi who have the same talent and yet are so different. 

The second point is that Shuichi’s specialty was doing small cases for his uncle so that he can focus on important things, which basically included finding lost pets and infidelity cases (catching cheaters). He solved only ONE murder case, he isn’t at Kirigiri’s level who may I remind you was born in a family full of detectives and had undergone strict training by her grandfather Fuhito who wanted her to be a detective no matter what. They are two different characters with completely different backgrounds, personalities, and mentalities, so they shouldn’t be compared for having the same talent.

Third thing, Shuichi ended danganronpa. He’s not stupid, he figured out Tsumugi was getting them into a trap with the hope and despair options and exposed her for wanting them to choose hope so danganronpa continues. He also figured out that Kaede’s plan to kill the mastermind failed as soon as he found a shotput ball in a trashcan. He is an actual detective, just went through shit making him afraid of the truth (which I’ll discuss next.)

People who say Shuichi doesn’t deserve to be a detective should be legally not allowed to have ice cream, no cookies and cream flavor, no oreo flavor, nothing is allowed. (I’m jk ahahaha… maybe-)

 > “Shuichi is weak.”

Shuichi didn’t have enough self-confidence in himself at first, but there’s a huge reason for it. It’s the same reason why he started being afraid of the truth. Because every single time he tried doing the right thing, life came back and bit him.

He solved a murder case, turns out the killer was taking revenge for his family. He told Kaede about the possibility of a traitor, she ended up using their plan to try and kill the mastermind and was executed for killing Rantaro. He solved Miu’s case and Gonta was executed, Kaito literally stopped talking to him when all he was trying to do is keep them alive.

His parents also neglected him as a kid, probably making him think the problem is with him until he started being bitter towards them instead. These situations and the way Shuichi was raised led to him having self-confidence issues, always doubting what he was doing, if it was the right thing, and if he deserved to be a detective. (and I don’t think he should be blamed for feeling this way, heck.)

But in the end Shuichi had to believe in himself and all his feelings and deductions to end danganronpa in chapter 6. If anything, in my opinion, Shuichi is one of the strongest characters in DR for dealing with so much, he’s no longer “weak” by the end of the game but I don’t think he was in the first place.

TLDR; he’s not weak, just went through a lot and probably suffers from anxiety rip.

 > “Shuichi is also extremely physically weak, a noodle, a twink, etc.”

Shuichi is in fact not weak, he is shown to be able to do up to 50 pushups a day. I can barely do one (yes the real noodle was actually me all along) He may not be the strongest man alive, but he’s not that lacking in physical strength. At some point even during the training with Maki and Kaito he reaches 50, then Kaito says he lost count and makes him start over.

If you check the caged child scene, he lifted the cage with Kokichi (Who was saying he shouldn’t have lied about being strong because it was really heavy.) So he can at least lift up a cage too.

 > “Shuichi’s real self is some murder obsessed psychopath that assaults others.”

That was never confirmed by the game, it is just a fanon version of pregame Shuichi that some fans believe in. We never know if those tapes that Tsumugi showed were real or not, since the pre-memories Shuichi that we saw in the beginning of the game was more of a nervous and scared boy who said he was kidnapped (Also Kaede had to yell at to calm down, which is a notable difference to her reaction when he did the same thing the second time they got out of the lockers.) 

I believe those characters we saw in the beginning were their pregame selves, Kaede wasn’t as nice and had lost her faith in humanity (but she probably knew what DR is because she was trying to ask, and didn’t exactly look happy about it), Rantaro suspected what was going on because he experienced the same thing before, and Shuichi was confused and most probably scared (I have a feeling he’d know what’s going on if he really is a huge fan of DR). The reason Tsumugi got the idea of “a weak detective that gets more confident” is because of his pregame personality. So pregame Shuichi is actually way less confident than his ingame self and it shows mostly in chapter 6.

But that’s just how I view it, take of it as you will. In the end pregame Shuichi and Ingame Shuichi are two different characters, just like pregame Kaede and ingame Kaede. So even if pregame Shuichi was like that I don’t think his ingame character should be held accountable for it. (and like I said, that's just a fanon version of him, not confirmed. You can’t even tell from the tapes if he assaults people like everyone claims he does.)

 > “Kaede should’ve survived instead, she’s a way better protagonist!”

Now this is a controversial topic in the fandom, I think. Because some people love Shuichi more than Kaede and vice versa. I think people can love Shuichi but also want Kaede to be the protagonist, So I’m not going to touch on the topic of whether our favorite pianist could be a good main character or not. (We only experienced a chapter with her, we can’t tell what would’ve happened if Shuichi died instead and we continued the story with her so we can compare who is a “better” protagonist.)

But I’ll explain why Kaede HAD to die.

Kaede didn’t die for Shuichi’s development, she died because she was practically a perfect character. People suspected her dying before the game even came out! She had an actual talent, she was positive as hell, she tried uniting everyone as best as she could, she was confident and sometimes even bossy. Those were all warning flags to the fandom.

But thing is, Kaede isn’t perfect, paranoia got to her too and because she wanted to save everyone so bad she tried to kill the mastermind and died thinking she killed someone. I personally love how everything played out (except for the part where it turns out she didn’t kill anyone anyway, but I can see the appeal of the plot twist) but that’s just my opinion. 

Point is, Kaede didn’t die for Shuichi to become the protagonist, there was a reason everyone suspected she’d die before the game came out and before they knew the role would go to Shuichi instead.

Also a lot of people tend to forget that Shuichi was the one who ended danganronpa. I’m not sure Kaede would’ve been able to because she probably would agree with Kiibo and chose hope, she’s not a detective after all.

 Now onto the smaller arguments that I saw

> “His design is boring”

Let me see you make a better one 👀

I’m just kidding don’t kill me, but I’m pretty sure the thousands of fanarts of him prove that a lot do not agree with that point. (Me included, he is pretty boi.)

> “Playing as him sucks because he cries a lot.”

Are people are not allowed to have feelings now? The portrayal of his feelings is what made him my favorite DR protagonist, so saying you hate him for crying a lot makes it obvious that you’re either grasping at straws for reasons to hate him, or you seriously lack empathy... I don’t even think he whined / cried as much as the haters claim he does.

> “He stands in the way of my ship!”

…. Wow, I’m actually at a loss of words. I only have one advice if you hate a character for standing in the way of your ship: grow up. It’s good for your emotional health I promise.

[gojirahkiin]

What the  Godzilla Anime should’ve been! Part 1

Starting with an apology to Tyrantis Terror, and a promise that unlike the last time I pinged you with fanfiction, this will be a good read.

Alright, so @tyrantisterror​‘s cry of “BE INTERESTING YOU COWARDS!” is essentially the majority opinion of the Godzilla fandom towards the anime. This is how I, personally, would fix it.

To do so, I would take three premises, because in my spite I want to prove that there is a way that good can come of them:

Godzilla has reigned undisputed for 20,000 years

Mothra is dead, but her egg and people live

Ghidorah is an eldritch god.

What the anime lacks boils down to two things: character and spectacle. Everyone was boring and nothing cool happened.

But even assuming that you want to go in a completely different direction than the rest of the Godzilla franchise, you don’t have to be garbage about it. So Mothra has no Shobijin/Cosmos/Elias equivalents. Fine, but she doesn’t need any since she has an entire race/species of people. But you know who does need some now?

I present some amazing fanart for a priestess of King Ghidorah! Ignore the Noodledorah silhouettes behind her. I am scrapping that entire design for eldritch ramen.

Even worse, the canon Exif communicated with Ghidorah through math. That is the lamest thing possible. But once again harvesting and inverting classic Mothra, what do you think I could substitute for Fairy Mothra, a fragment of spirit given form and purpose?

A Dorat. Obviously it needs tweaking. No aspect of King Ghidorah would ever deign to be so cute. But my point stands: his most devout worshipers would have these tiny avatars of their god to guide them in their malice.

Now, I said that Mothra doesn’t need the Shobijin since she has a race/species. That’s not a metaphor. The canon Houtua are covered in powdery tattoos and given antennae. It’s never made explicit (because that might be cool) but they are implied to be literal children of Mothra.

Imagine the implications of being able to genetically prove that your goddess is the mother of your species? I discard the name Houtua and rename these technical kaiju the Elias. Could’ve also called them Cosmos, but I flipped a coin.

I’ll come back to Mothra in a bit. For now, let’s talk about Godzilla. He’s the ruler of Earth in this continuity, but what does that really mean? Well...

I do want to say that I’m not making this a post-apocalyptic MonsterVerse, as cool as that would be. What I mean is that every kaiju that hasn’t submitted to Godzilla’s dominance has been killed.

Godzilla is King of the Monsters in that he has no true rivals for the throne, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t resistance.

Mothra’s egg is hidden, proving that it is possible to hide from him. It is also possible to run from him since he can’t be everywhere at once, and there are creatures capable and willing to do both.

This is where my versions of the Servum (the worm & dragon-like creatures that were never named and hardly shown in canon) come in, in both name and concept.

The Kaiju Catastrophe wiped out many species, if only because humanity got increasingly destructive in their efforts to stop it, leaving vacuums in many ecosystems. 20,000 years isn’t a long time for new species to evolve, but a core theme of the Godzilla series is that mutations happen quickly.

In the aftermath, many species mutated and evolved to be symbiotic towards Godzilla, because being simultaneously around and useful to him was a great way to survive and be protected.

These creatures are the Servum, but there aren’t that many ways to be useful to Godzilla, and so they are essentially “battle honey guides.” They hunt down and swarm creatures that show signs of hostility toward the King, or simply call to summon him if they think they’re out of their league.

Godzilla has naturally been growing and mutating for all 20,000 years, but unlike the near-comatose tree in the anime, my Godzilla is active and roaming. Most of the Earth has well-worn pathways because unless he must deviate to deal with a challenger, he has a decently efficient patrol route.

One of the other results of Godzilla's never-ending world tour is that everything is a bit more radioactive and a bit more violent. The first is natural. The second requires explanation.

Essentially, kaiju that covet the throne hide in nice fertile areas with lots of food of whatever kind they eat. These are typically destroyed in the battle when Godzilla finds them. As a result, aggression, growth, and general "kaiju-fication" has been encouraged in the wildlife for the last 20,000 years, because if you can protect your territory from would-be crown-hunters it won't be destroyed by Godzilla.

Biollante exists, but less as a distinct creature and more as a taxonomic classification; when Godzilla destroys a region in battle, it takes truly remarkable plants to colonize it - these aggressive and radiosynthetic plants are the Biollante.

Now let’s talk about Mechagodzilla, an technology in general. What is left of humanity after 20,000 years? Not a lot to be honest.

Bunkers aren’t much protection from burrowing kaiju, and not even the most optimistic “abandoned by people” documentary thinks any skyscraper will last for 20,000 years.

But it sounds like I’m contradicting myself - if new kaiju are always rising, and virtually all traces of humanity are gone, then where are Mechagodzilla and Mothra’s egg in this continuity? Hilariously, they’re still around because they’re in almost the same place.

In my take on this scenario, Godzilla first appeared in 1954 at a height of 50 meters. By the time humanity had to flee in 2054, he’d swelled to his 100 meter height.

As a result, Mechagodzilla’s factory was built inside a mountain, so that the facility could constantly expand so that if and when the machine got wrecked, it could be rebuilt bigger and better for the next rematch, and both mecha and factory were constantly being built and improved until almost the day humanity evacuated.

Mothra first challenged Godzilla after humanity fled, but her standard procedure is to find a nice safe place for her egg before charging into mortal combat, and she found this very conveniently mostly empty hangar inside a mountain. A bit bland and sterile for her taste, but safe.

Hearkening back to the Heisei era again, Mothra’s egg is psychic, and has a useful passive defense. It radiates an aura that renders the area uninteresting to any kaiju not specifically looking for a Mothra egg. As a result, the egg, the Elias, and Mechagodzilla have been housemates for 20,000 years give or take.

Some of you may have caught that I said Mothra first challenged Godzilla. That’s because this version of Mothra is also active in the timeline... in a sense. Each time the egg hatches, the new Mothra has been challenging Godzilla, and each time she’s taken longer to develop, but done better in the fight. And the most recent challenger was 10,000 years ago...

So, let’s talk about King Ghidorah himself. The anime’s designers claim that their Ghidorah is the final evolution of the essence of Ghidorah.

Screw that! If I want an enemy that’s unkillable because he’s technically in another dimension, other franchises have done it better and with more spectacle.

King Ghidorah isn’t just about destruction. It isn’t enough to let a ghost noodle rip apart and eat a planet (in lore and not on screen of course). King Ghidorah is about the fear, helplessness, and despair in the face of an end to everything you care about that cannot be stopped.

Some people complain that in Rebirth of Mothra III, Ghidorah only destroyed a little bit and then went back to guarding his dome. My hypothesis is that there was a very deliberate and cruel reason for that.

The children knew that they’d been captured and knew that the walls were acidic because one of them tossed a ball at it. But their parents didn’t know yet. Ghidorah destroyed a little and then went back to the dome so that the parents would know what happened and that there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Also, he loomed over the dome and watched it - he was waiting for the digestion process to begin; he was people-watching in the most sadistic manner possible, like a child setting fire to ants with a magnifying glass.

But that incarnation of Ghidorah was a bit too stoic and focused for my taste. I want him to hearken back to Shōwa Ghidorah: we don’t know why he does what he does, only that he’s having a blast doing it!

So let’s run with that. I’m discarding the Exif’s name. In another callback to the past, their name can translate as Xians or Xiliens depending on your preference. And the Xiliens don’t often name their god, but they call him one of three euphemisms: The Laughing King, The Golden Light, and The Threefold Death.

The Xiliens also follow their god’s example: they are quite cheerful and always happy to meet new people (because they’ll get to kill them later); they’re decked out in gaudy, shiny golden colors; and when they’re getting ready to kill someone, they do their damnedest to give them a threefold death.

The Death of their Hopes.

The Death of their Body.

And reserved for their god alone, the Death of their World.

When King Ghidorah is summoned by the terrible cruelty and laughter of his followers, a tear into another dimension is opened over the planet, and an asteroid drops from it, with all the destructive power you’d expect of an asteroid strike.

To die in the blast is an honor and a mercy, because the true horror manifests from the molten ruins and lets out a cackling roar that can be heard across the entire planet. If there are any orbiting ships or space stations, the roar defies all laws of reality to be heard there too.

And in every listener, the sound inspires the primal terror of imminent death.

A cornered rat will bite the cat, but the Laughing King does not begrudge his prey. It’s no fun if they don’t fight back! They need to believe that they stand a chance, so that as they lie bleeding and broken by the Golden Light of gravity beams their hopes can die with their flesh!

This is the true purpose of the Threefold Death that is King Ghidorah. You don’t kill for sustenance or defense; such material needs are mark of a mortal. You kill for fun! For the joy of watching life and hope leave a victim’s eyes!

That is the true essence of King Ghidorah!

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title : Making sense

Author : @alyssaleandra (komakaikoma on twitter)

For : @fhantomhives

Rating/Warnings : G, mentions of Hinata’s surgical scars

Prompt : for the fic - first date; for the fanart - soft forehead touch

Author/Artist’s note : I hope the recipient enjoys!! I tried to make something very gentle and heartwarming! There is an image embedded within the story.

-

Things are hard when the former Class 77-B ship off to real life Jabberwock Island. Unlike its virtual counterpart, it’s been abandoned for who knows how long, and it shows. There’s insect infestations to counteract, living quarters to rebuild, water sources to purify… Hinata never imagined he’d see his friends farming, but here they are with Imposter (who everyone still affectionately refers to as Togami because it’s familiar) assigning tilling duties for the week. They can’t rely on Naegi and the others on mainland to supply too much, lest they out their location to those who’d prefer to see the Remnants of Despair at the bottom of the ocean.

Hinata knows that the others are looking to him for some measure of guidance, even if no one’s said anything outright. He’s Kamukura Izuru, after all. The Ultimate of Ultimates. The one who babysat everyone’s pods until each was safely out of cryosleep and in recovery plans that mainly he (and later Tsumiki) was responsible for formulating. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s had his fair share of being an Ultimate, and he’s happy to take the supporting role to more charismatic figures like Sonia and Togami. The irony of longing for a normal life is not lost on him, but he thinks undergoing a major brain surgery, surviving a killing game, and getting spit out into a completely changed real world is enough excitement for a lifetime. He’s earned a bit of normalcy.

…So of course he’d find himself fawning over Komaeda Nagito, of all people, once things have settled down around Jabberwock. Hinata’s bewildered by it when he realizes what’s happened; it’s like an errant seed found root in his heart while he was distracted with fixing cottage roofs, then budded while he was modifying meal plans, and then the second he had a chance to breathe and check in on himself, full blown feelings had blossomed right under his nose.

It’s hard, and a little frustrating, that it had to be Komaeda, because nothing’s ever been easy with Komaeda. Hinata had nursed something of a crush on the boy when they’d “met” in the virtual world and he thought that Komaeda was just a kindhearted oddball with a pretty face. That whole thing got dashed to pieces during their time in the program once he realized there was at least a few dozen more layers to Komaeda he had yet to scratch the surface of, let alone come close to ever comprehending. It was unthinkable, for a time, that he’d ever be able to feel anything other than confusion with a tinge of what he can only describe as unease towards Komaeda. Now, though, with everyone recovering and filling in the cracks left by their past lives, he feels a bit like he first did on that digital shoreline in the beginning.

Except, no, it’s more profound this time because he feels like really understanding Komaeda is something that’s within arm’s reach for him, rather than an amorphous, far-off concept.

He can’t pretend to fully follow all of the hope-obsessed boy’s fervid ramblings about life and fate, but… nowadays, it’s almost endearing. It’s just routine enough that it’s become comforting. Like Komaeda’s some piece of music that was too dense and intimidating for Hinata to really appreciate the first time he heard it, but now he’s developed the taste for it.

It helps that Komaeda’s achingly pretty, and Hinata’s always been slightly weak for the quirky pretty ones. Even during their conflicts in the program, Hinata had to reel himself out of those serene gray eyes sometimes—really yank himself out of a few unwanted idle daydreams about the Ultimate Luck who caused everyone so much grief, and yet—and yet—Hinata never could shake the desperate desire to figure him out. He’d always thought if he could solve the inscrutable puzzle that was Komaeda, just maybe they could be on equal footing again someday.

And so, it’s somewhat frustrating that it had to be Komaeda because Hinata knows by now how complicated Komaeda likes to make things for himself (and everyone around him), but it also makes perfect sense that the living science experiment known as Hinata Hajime would set his sights on the shining beacon of maladaptive coping mechanisms known as Komaeda Nagito. Since when has Hinata ever taken the path of least resistance for anything?

They aimlessly spend time together just like they did back in the program before things really went south. They do chores together, tag-team scavenging together, and spend cool off periods walking down the beach together. Komaeda still tends to fret over doing anything where his misfortune flares could pose a threat to Hinata, but they’ve managed to go unscathed thus far.

They’re sitting hip-to-hip on the sand and watching the sunset after a particularly lengthy conversation about their childhoods, when it occurs to Hinata that this is basically a date. He feels his heart kickstart at the notion and a heat creep across his face, and he’s suddenly scared to move or even so much as glance at the boy next to him, lest Komaeda be made aware of Hinata’s sudden onslaught of self-consciousness. He’s kept completely quiet about his festering feelings for Komaeda and never once dared to imply that anything between them means any more or less than what he has with everyone else on the island. He’s shy, sure, but he also just isn’t certain of Komaeda can handle that kind of information. He can practically see the spiral that would unfurl if Komaeda were to confront the reality of knowing that someone cared for him.

“Oh, sorry, did I say too much? Ahaha… I never know when to stop talking…”

Hinata’s ears tune in to the sad note in Komaeda’s voice, and he realizes he’s been spacing out. “No, no! I just got lost in thought, sorry about that.” His throat feels tight, and there’s a dozen things he wants to say but doesn’t know how to. “Um… Komaeda?”

“Yes?” Komaeda tilts his head, attentive.

“I was wondering if… well, if you wanted to—to come over to my cottage tonight?” It’s funny, really, the way everyday words rattle up his ribs and get stuck on his tongue like they’re something profound or difficult, given everything else he’s been through by comparison. It’s funny and embarrassing and so normal that it would make Hinata laugh if he weren’t preoccupied with not humiliating himself in front of Komaeda right now. “Just to… I dunno, hang out. Maybe we could… watch one of the movies that Asahina-san sent over for us.”

Komaeda’s eyes widen just a little as he processes this invitation before relaxing back to their usual calm state. “Hinata-kun, aren’t we hanging out already? Or am I mistaken?”

“W-well, yeah! But this is…” Hinata’s voice drops to a fragile murmur, “…different.”

“Different? Hmm… I see.” Hinata isn’t sure what it is that Komaeda sees, and that makes him nervous. The slightly taller boy stands up and dusts sand off his bottom. “I’d be happy to accompany you.”

And he smiles, framed by oncoming nighttime and high tide, and Hinata’s heart stutters. Okay, cool, he accepted it without being weird. Even if I didn’t really explicitly call it a date or anything. God, my collar feels tight right now. He tugs at the offending collar and tries for a casual smile. “Cool. Cool.”

They follow the road back to the inland.

Silence transpires, and in the bit of quiet, Hinata takes note of Komaeda’s hands swinging gently at his sides. Hinata’s never thought about the idea of holding them before, at least not in public, but once it crosses his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it. How would Komaeda react if he just… went for it? Would he be startled? Angry? Beyond that, how would it feel? Would it be clammy? Soft? Would it feel good? …Well, the hand closest to him is the metal one, so that’s irrelevant.

A past Hinata might have been content to let the idea remain as just an idea, but the Hinata now knows that if he wants something, he should probably chase after it without sweating the details so much. He reaches out and takes the mechanical left hand into his right. It takes Komaeda a moment to notice, due to a lack of nerve endings.

“Oh…” he says faintly, too caught off guard for much else.

“Sh-should I not…?”

They’ve both stopped walking so that Komaeda can stare down at their point of contact. He’s yet to put on any kind of discernible emotion about it. “No, it’s okay. It’s—nice. But it’s scary, too.”

“Scary??” Hinata’s grip loosens, prepared to drop the other boy’s hand and forget he ever tried.

“Because it’s so nice.” Slowly, carefully, internal mechanisms work together to tighten Komaeda’s hold on Hinata so that the connection isn’t lost. “It’s… hard to not wonder when my luck might strike again. And I know you have luck now, too, somewhere inside of you… But…” He shakes his head and dismisses the thought. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

Hinata wants to protest and prod Komaeda into finishing what he was saying, but the gentle pull of Komaeda’s hand takes his attention by the reins. He hasn’t rejected Hinata, and he isn’t running away. That small realization fills Hinata with relief that he didn’t know he was hoping for. His step feels lighter as he catches up to his friend’s side.

-

Hinata sets up a tape on an old CRT that Souda put together, sits on the floor with Komaeda, and immediately finds himself regretting suggesting a movie. It’s impossible to focus with so many things weighing on his mind and the subject of his inner turmoil right next to him.

As if sensing Hinata’s thoughts, Komaeda leans against him, so warm and tangible on his shoulder. It seems he’s equally unengaged with the movie before them. “Hey, Hinata-kun. Would you mind telling me that you hate me?”

“…Huh?” The odd request catches Hinata off guard. “Why on earth would I ever say that??”

“It’d be the greatest comfort to me right now. The bad luck of being hated by you… maybe it’d make everything even. Maybe I could enjoy being at your side like this a little longer without fearing what might come next. But I’m too much of a coward to actually try to make you hate me anymore.” He outstretches his right hand, flexing and relaxing the muscles. Even as he talks of being hated, he nuzzles closer into Hinata’s shoulder, as if afraid Hinata really will say he hates him. “I used to try so hard to invite disaster in my life when things were going too well. It scared me so much to enjoy the quiet moments. It scares me even now, to be close to you and have your friendship. I always tell myself that I need to stop being selfish and push you away for your own good, but… then I see you every morning, still alive, still smiling, and my greedy heart can’t help but want to bask in you.”

He shifts and makes direct eye contact with Hinata. As frank as he can be at times, Komaeda always tends to direct his gaze elsewhere during conversations. His hand, or his feet, or just somewhere in the far distance. It always makes him feel unreachable. But this time, his stare is open and earnest. “After everything that happened, I wonder what my standing with luck even is anymore. I died in the program… but then I was alive. But then I had the apocalypse and my own horrible actions to clean up after.” He reflexively rubs where metal and flesh meet on his left arm. “So in the end, was that all good luck or…”

And Komaeda cuts himself off, like he’ll never find an answer unless he just takes action already, and he leans into Hinata and brushes trembling lips against a dumbstruck mouth. His eyes are rife with a dozen conflicting emotions, as Komaeda often is, but this time it feels as though one wrong move will make him burst and everything will come spilling out unfiltered. His eyes widen in something akin to surprise, as if he wasn’t in control of his own actions. Before Komaeda has the chance to overthink things or run away, Hinata catches him by a jacket lapel and pulls him close. He uses his other hand to wrap gently around the back of Komaeda’s head, reveling in soft white curls, and pulls their foreheads together.

“Do you feel them? The scars, I mean.” Hinata pulls his short bangs aside. “Sometimes I forget they’re there. But they remind me of everything we all went through… that we’ve seen hell and death and everything in between, and we’re still here. In the grand scheme of things,” he gestures between them, “this isn’t going to be what ends the world. …At least, that’s what I think.”

Komaeda’s quiet, for a bit. He inhales like he forgot to breathe. Then he breaks, and laughs, and laughs. His eyes water from the force of it. “Aha-hahaha! Hahaha! Ha…” He holds Hinata for support, and Hinata holds him back. Once the fit has passed, he sniffs and straightens up, face still slightly quirked with hysteria. “Perhaps—perhaps you’re right. Maybe it’s arrogant to think luck cares that much about what makes me happy. Maybe it never cared. I’ve been wondering about that lately. It’s a scary thought.”

On the surface, it’s a pessimistic notion, but for Komaeda to yield to the idea that, to some extent, things just happen and that he should do something that makes him happy without psyching himself out of it for once, is the kind of paradigm shift Hinata expects only a virtual death and rebirth could have brought about. “Luck never cared about what any of us wanted. Not just me. And maybe it’s giving luck too much credit to say that it’s what brought me to you.” Then Komaeda does something unexpected—tilting his chin upwards at a pretty angle and kissing the raised skin of Hinata’s forehead scars. “But whatever did, I’m glad for it. I’m… unspeakably glad that you’re still here after everything, Hinata-kun.”

It’s always a toss-up with Komaeda on whether or not his penchant for saying really vulnerable things will embarrass him. This ends up being one of the times where it does, and he flushes a bright red and looks away, direct eye contact finally too much for him. He’s nearly confessed to Hinata once before, but that was ages ago in the program, under far different circumstances. Perhaps this is the first time Komaeda’s ever been really honest about how much Hinata means to him. No wrapping it up in vague non sequiturs about talent and hope. Just, “I’m glad you’re here.”

It’s more powerful than a typical confession in some regards.

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, too.” Hinata feels his face burning as well, but he tries to will himself to remain cool. “…This feels pretty dumb to say now, but I was trying to ask you on a date earlier. So, uh, this is a date. …If you want it to be. I feel like, after… y’know, everything, we need things like this. Normal things.”

Komaeda smiles genuinely, and fondness bears down on Hinata full-force at the sight. “I figured that was what you were trying to get at. It’s really funny, Hinata-kun, when I look at you and think about how your sheer will power broke us out of the killing game and probably saved us all, and yet you can’t even ask someone out without being absurdly awkward about it. I think it’s something I like about you.”

Hinata burns more furiously but can’t find the words to retort, instead opting to fold his arms and stare at the ceiling. “W-well… yeah. Those are two totally different things!! Maybe if lives were on the line, I could find it in me to ask you out a little more tactfully…”

“Hmm, I see, so saving lives is easier than trying to date me, huh? I suppose that’s fair…”

“Hey, you…” Hinata snags Komaeda’s jacket lapels again and pulls him close. The banter ceases, and the two enjoy a normal date, like they deserve.

[estelwenadia]

In which Lan Zhan is the Yiling Patriarch and Wei Wuxian is a disciple of the GusuLan Sect

Written by: EstelweNadia

(Based on a fanart of LWJ and WWX switched clothes - LWJ in red and black, and WWX in white and blue.

Back story: in which WWX is adopted into the GusuLan Clan and Lan Wangji is a rogue cultivator, estranged from his brother and uncle after the death of his mother. Everything else remains the same, uh, to an extent. Maybe.)

Wei Wuxian couldn't believe his luck, or lack of. He had been silently trailing after the lone cultivator dressed in red and black when Lan Zhan suddenly vanished. The next thing Wei Wuxian knew he was pinned and straddled against the nearby tree.

Wei Wuxian sweatdropped. He wasn't scared (he was never scared, okay) because Lan Zhan didn't emit any killing intent but the intensity in the piercing golden orbs was enough to paralyse him in place.

"Uh... Lan... Zhan?"

The grip around his wrists tightened. If Wei Wuxian concentrated enough, he could feel the other person trembling.

"Again."

Poor Lan Zhan. Maybe Lan Zhan hadn't heard anyone calling out his birth name for a long while. He must have been terribly lonely, being alone for so long.

"Lan Zhan?"

Lan Zhan shuddered. He was leaning even closer to Wei Wuxian now, until they were almost in an embrace.

"Come home, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whispered. "They are waiting for you to come home."

Back at Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen could not completely banished the sadness from his ever present smile, and Lan Qiren could not stop comparing him with Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian could not stand seeing anyone still wallowing in despair, so in the end, he blurted out a solemn promise that he would bring Lan Zhan to GusuLan one day.

Lan Zhan peered into his eyes, watching him. For a long moment he didn't speak.

When he spoke at last, his voice was hoarse. "You?"

"Come home with me, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian stressed earnestly. His heart was thundering, his blood roaring in his ears at Lan Zhan's proximity. "We go home together. Okay?"

"With you," Lan Zhan repeated. "Together."

Wei Wuxian couldn't help himself. He surged forward and pressed his lips lightly against Lan Zhan's, as if sealing a promise.

"Yes Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian murmured against the soft, moist lips. "Together."

(Well, that's about it lol. Hope you like it 😅)

[forfansbyfans]

Heart & Expression: A FFBF Interview

Homestuck Tarot Acts 6 & 7 - Cards Illustrated:  Eight of Swords

It’s always fascinating to see how huge the Homestuck art community is all over the world - Where are you from?

I'm from Croatia, Europe. Most of my Homestuck friends were online-buddies though, and I met some wonderful people and amazing friends because of it. We had a Croatiastuck community here which was super small and scattered, though.

We’re in love with the tarot deck!  Can you tell us a little bit about how you became involved?

I am always willing to pay my respects to Homestuck through fan projects considering it was such a huge part of my life. When I saw there is an on-going tarot project I immediately applied! I was really excited about getting a chance to contribute to it, and I'm so thankful I was picked.

Tell us a little bit about the artwork you contributed to the deck – how does the art tie in with the meaning behind the card?

My card was 8 of swords - representing Vriska after she broke up with Meenah. 8 of Swords deals with despair, lack of perspection, self-sabotage. It represents lack of vision. In my piece, Vriska's head is bowed down because she won't look up. Swords behind her represent her inability to go back, and spider webs are covering the swords, representing constriction. Yet, the path in front of her is open - she can rise and walk forward, but she's too captivated in her grief.

How have you grown as an artist over the years and what has helped you grow?

I always loved to draw, but it was books that were more interesting to me when I was a kid. I used to be quite a bookworm. I wrote my own stories and I started learning about art and improving so I could illustrate my characters. Later I started drawing more and became interested in comics. Another huge passion of mine was animation - I used to spend hours watching animated films and analysing them. Today I'm an animation student, but comics are still closer to my heart and expression.

What’s your process? Where do you find inspiration?

I learnt so many things from so many different people and artists online, that it's incredible. The most important thing to me are poses - I strive to draw fluid and expressive poses. I don't only draw inspiration from art itself but from many other things as well - life experiences, friends, photography, movies, tv shows, books, music. I think it's important to realize that art is more than just technical skill. Many people make a mistake of closing themselves in this little box, but good art is not simply about good drawing skills. There's so much more to it.

What kind of impact has Homestuck had on your life and art?

I'd say it's a piece of media that's had the biggest impact on me during my life, both as a person and an artist - and while many other things have inspired me later on, nothing has ever done it in this way, or with this intensity. Homestuck and HS community have made me develop my art style and pushed me to pursue art in a professional sense. Someone once messaged me because they saw me on TV and "my art looked like I read Homestuck". Drawing copious amounts of fanart is what made me improve the most, honestly. Even if I'm not as involved with it as I used to be, it will always hold a special place in my heart.

What advice would you give to a younger you?

Hmm, don't wait to be skilled to work on the projects you want to work on - just do them. Back then I had so many ideas for HS art that I wanted to do, but I kept putting it off because I wasn't good enough. I wish I had done some projects back when the time was right, and I kinda regret not doing them. So - whatever it is - do it now, don't save it for later! Don't be scared to do it!

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Interview by Cassie Steensrud

@whatpumpkin​ @artistotel​

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

Broken bonds

Yep, we’re finally doing this xD Have some Rhys/Axton omegaverse fic awww yiss. Sorry it’s so short (and reads weird imo), more shall be forthcoming and normal as per my style :)

Also on my ao3 here :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

–

Rhys had said yes to everything that Handsome Jack had ever wanted.

He’d been the perfect, submissive omega. Obedient, loyal, flattering to the alpha’s ego. He’d been head over heels in love with the older man, couldn’t believe his luck in catching the CEO’s eye and being the focus of the man’s attention. Jack had called him smart. Pretty. An omega that was making waves in his department and making the man proud to have him as a member of Hyperion.

The dinners were nice, the sex was great, and the way the alpha fawned over him and bared his teeth at any other alphas that got too close just made Rhys’ whole world light up. It was an easy thing to let the older man bond him; to let his world consist of Jack and nothing else. The man burned bright as a star at the center of Rhys’ universe, and the omega was infatuated with his bond mate.

It was two weeks after that the CEO moved on, and another one passed before Rhys began to understand the reality of his situation.

Unreturned calls and messages were one thing, but seeing the alpha with someone else was another entirely.

The realization was something he willfully denied for a long time, rationalizing that Jack was the CEO, and busy, and he met with many attractive people for the good of Hyperion. Actors in his car. Models in his office. That made sense what with products needing advertising. That was to be expected of such an important alpha. He could bear with it. Even if security barred him from seeing the older man, and Jack’s secretary always dismissing him on the excuse that Jack was out. He must be working hard.

Some small, logical part of himself realized what was happening; that he was played with and discarded like the naive, lovestruck omega that he was. There was no misunderstanding or miscommunication; it was simply over. And he was stuck with a bond but no mate, desperate and sick to see the alpha CEO, but knowing he’d been discarded like old prototypes.

Coming to terms with the realization that Jack was actively avoiding him– completely disinterested in his own mate- was what motivated Rhys to leave Hyperion weeks later.

He took up a job with Atlas, the rival technologies firm, and tried to start over; tried to forget the bond that nagged at him, pulled at him, and desperately wanted his alpha at his back.

The omega poured himself into his work, heading an entire department that was impressed as hell with his qualifications and knowledge. He made innovations and realizations that seriously bolstered the younger company’s reputation. It was a great distraction from missing the man that was like an ulcer on his heart. Everyone was nice and more than competent at their jobs, and they took his direction well. He poured himself wholeheartedly into his work.

Atlas might have been a smaller, newer company than Hyperion, but what it lacked in flash and obscene wealth, it more than made up for in quality of product and superior advances. There was a reason they were directly competing with the larger company and actually causing a dip in Hyperion’s stock, and that was the superior work ethic of it’s employees and a dedication to service that the larger company was frankly lacking.

All in all, it was a good fit for a heartbroken omega trying to forget the alpha that bonded and left him. Atlas cared about their employees, it cared about their customers, and there was never a lack of work to bury oneself in and try to forget.

Rhys had been managing thus far, trying to will himself to get over Jack the past several months. He knew the dangers of broken bond syndrome, and what the abandonment could do to him if he couldn’t force himself to forget and get over the man. But that was hard when Jack’s face was literally everywhere, from timepieces to cars to sunglasses. It made him ache and recall words of love that the alpha obviously hadn’t meant, but that he desperately wanted to believe. And it was slowly killing him.

His declining health caught the eyes of the bosses who simply thought he was working too hard. Though it was an important time for the company in terms of projects and the bottom line, Rhys was offered vacation time to recuperate. He was important, they said, and while working yourself to death might be normal back at Hyperion, they needed well-rested, fully-functioning leaders to head their teams. A little R&R was prescribed.

The omega shot that down, fear of what having so much time alone with his thoughts might do, and management offered him working from home instead– just until he recovered, they promised. It was a good compromise, and Rhys had managed to make every deadline and goal for the month he’d been working remotely.

Until he missed one project. And then another. He hadn’t responded to emails checking in on him, and his phone went straight to voicemail. No one could get in touch with the omega and it set off alerts to upper management.

That was how Axton found himself standing outside the omega’s apartment door, checking the address to make sure he was where the company had sent him, hand poised to knock again on the blue-painted wood.

No answer. But then, they had expected that; worry that the omega had gotten too sick to answer a phone, let alone open a door.

Axton knocked again and tried the knob. To his shock, it was unlocked. The alpha cautiously opened the door, looking for any signs of foul play, and stuck his head into the dark apartment, sniffing in worry.

“Hello? Mr. Sommerset? I’m from Atlas, doing a wellness check.” He stepped through the threshold and allowed his eyes to adjust. The curtains were drawn, though light still came through the various windows enough for him to navigate. “Uh, your door was unlocked. Hello?”

He didn’t see or smell anything that set him on edge, and he opened curtains and turned on lights in the hope of finding a clue.

There were some old takeout containers on the counter of an average-sized kitchen. An open living room was filled with a comfortable looking black couch and matching plush chairs. The room was tidy, but had a lived-in feel to it; throw pillows and blankets, magazines, piles of DVDs next to a large tv.

No omega though.

“Hello? Mr. Sommerset?” he called out again as he cautiously explored the rest of the apartment.

There were four more closed doors to search in the space. One was an office that the omega department-head must have been working from, another was a linen closet with towels that fell on his head. He found door number three to be a spacious bathroom, which meant the last door must be the missing omega’s bedroom.

“Hello?” the alpha said again as he opened the door to hazy darkness. He was immediately struck with the realization that he wasn’t alone; omega-tinged, oddly-familiar scent filling his nostrils and the sound of breathing entering his ears.

“Oh, Mr. Sommerset. Hello? Excuse me, I’m from Atlas.”

The omega didn’t stir, and he approached somewhat awkwardly, though he had a duty to see if the man in question was okay or not. Axton was on edge, something about the scent in the room bothering his hindbrain that he couldn’t yet pin.

“Sir? Hello, sir?” He laid a warm hand on Rhys’ shoulder over the blankets, but the omega didn’t stir. He gave him a slight shake while addressing him again, and put a hand over the other man’s forehead.

He wasn’t hot like Axton had expected of an under-the-weather omega, but cold, skin chilled to the touch. His breathing was shallow and his scent was off. A spike of fear went through Axton as his nose realized something his brain took a few more moments to register.

“Shit. Hey darlin’, wake up. Hey.”

He knew broken bond syndrome when he saw it, not to mention the scent that was now impossible to ignore to his trained nose. He was well acquainted to the horrors of the problem, the first time he’d smelled such a scent rushing back to him. He hadn’t known what to do back then, but he did now. This omega needed help.

“Hey, Mr. Sommerset. Rhys Sommerset. Come on now, talk to me.”

He tried in vain to get the omega to wake up. Rhys was cold to the touch, skin chilled though he’d been under blankets. His scent held an odor that sent shivers down Axton’s spine; an omega given up.

His training kicked in, and he brought the cold omega into his arms to warm him up; work some life back into the unconscious man.

Axton chafed his hands over Rhys’ skin, warming it with his own body heat. He wrapped them both up in blankets as he held the other man in his lap, cheek to chill forehead, big arms around smaller, colder ones. The reek of despair hung heavy in the air and made his heart beat faster. He wished they’d sent him around sooner. “Come on now, darlin’. Don’t give up on me.”

He held the other man close, wrapped in his arms, and face to his chest with a blanket tight around both of them. He kept talking to him, saying his name, warming him up. If he could just get Rhys to surface, to open his eyes, then he was confident he could stabilize him.

He just had to pull him out first.

The big alpha took two fingers and gently pressed the pads into the back of the omega’s neck, looking for his bonding gland. “Come on now, darlin’. Wake up. Come on.” He gently massaged the area, knowing the intimate gesture was taboo, a spot only touched by lovers. Ask first and all that; something to stand by.

But he also knew it would activate the nerve in emergency situations, maybe stimulate enough to resurface the omega; enough to save him. A broken bond was an awful thing, but the tease was like a carrot on a stick.

The omega followed it to consciousness.

--

Subsequent chapters will be posted on my ao3 :) AND WE HAVE FANART TOO! :D Way later in the fic but WOOO :D My heart burns with the heat of a thousand suns THANK YOU :D

AND ANOTHER!! Thank you my baaaaabe just aaaaaaagh thank you!!

[yujachachacha]

About the subbing. Please go ahead and take your time, I'm sure a lot of us are genuinely happy you're doing this for us fans and for free as well :)

Thanks - I appreciate the kind words! Though, AFAIK all fansubbers work for free - even groups that ask for donations are usually using the funds for basic needs like server costs rather than profit. I’m just doing my part to help~

Like what @kuuxkat said in his reply to my earlier post (which in hindsight I’m feeling slightly guilty about for sounding a bit too salty), translators are just regular ol’ fans. We just happen to love the series so much that we made the decision to learn a skill (or two, or three…) and invest time into making more content accessible for the fandom. It’s precisely because we’re fans who are motivated by passion rather than money that we do our best on these projects.

[Uhhh…I accidentally ended up hijacking your ask to ramble about the TL/fansub process, so I’m putting the rest under a cut.]

I’m especially in awe of how much effort is put into some of these translation projects. I’ve seen absolutely stunning subtitles and beautiful typesets done by some content creators out there (including within Team ONIBE - I particularly admire Eter’s hard work on the ONIBE call guides and Yunii’s amazing Aegisub effects). But in the end, whether they’re dazzling subs done by a veteran or a simple text translation done by a first-timer, I’m grateful to anyone out there who decides to help out.

Going back to the previous paragraph, translators do understand what it’s like to despair over the lack of translations. We get why someone asks us to sub something - you just love the series so much that you’re hungry for more content. Trust me, I feel the same way. The difference is that fan translators just get so impatient about it that they decide to do the TLs themselves, haha.

Honestly, it reminds me a lot of how fanart and fanfics work. Some fan has an innate talent (artistic skill, eloquence with words; in the case of a TLer, knowledge of a second language) or some free time on their hands to learn a new skill (it’s not hard to learn the basics of Aegisub; if I was doing just plain text subs then I’d probably finish within a day or two lol), and notices a lack of content. They love the series so much that they decide to do away with this injustice by making something on their own.

With this, you might start to understand why some TLers don’t like getting pestered about doing translations. Apart from the annoyance of having the same question being asked of them over and over again, some may point out, “If you want the TLs so badly, be like me and put in the effort to do them yourself. Don’t ask me this question unless you know what that’s like.”

It’s not like requesting someone for subs is a completely forbidden topic. Sometimes, TLers don’t know what’s been translated or not, so they’ll ask people to let them know what they want to see subbed next. I’ve received plenty of polite queries from people, and I’m always happy to answer them. I was only that ticked off earlier because I specifically said not to ask me about subbing the full niconama. I didn’t make that request because I don’t have any plans to - I said that because I might actually consider it, and I want to be able to make the decision on my own.

Think back to LLS S1E4, when Hanamaru expressed doubt about whether someone like her could be a school idol. Chika tells her:

It’s not whether you can or can’t. It’s whether you want to or not!

What Chika says is, in essence, the battle cry of all content creators. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Aside from when you literally can’t dedicate the time to do something due to school/work/etc., the “can/can’t” part is the easier barrier to overcome. I don’t ask myself, “Can I figure out how to make Arisha’s words bounce cutely to reflect how adorable her Korean is? Can I translate this JP slang term?” Instead, I ask, “How much effort do I want to put into this video? Do I want to spend extra time figuring this out?”

Another example is the Yousoroad at the Seoul fan meeting. IIRC the Korean organizer once mentioned that the big question wasn’t, “Can we do this? Is this even possible?” The more important thought was, “I’ve dreamed about this since ‘Snow halation’. I want to try.” Above all, wanting to do something is the #1 motivating factor behind fan projects, and that’s a very personal decision.

That’s why there’s a very real danger of burnout in fansubbing. It’s extremely rare to see an independent fansubber consistently upload videos over a long period of time (KuuRin has my deep and undying respect for being one of the exceptions in this fandom). They start out pouring all of their passion into a project, and then find that it’s incredibly difficult to keep up the same levels of energy as time goes on.

TLers know themselves best, so let them work at their own pace. They’re already stressed out enough as it is - they don’t need the added pressure of people asking them when they’re going to finish a project. I know that 99% of the time, the “subs when?” question isn’t a serious one (for example, a fellow Team ONIBE member and I jokingly asked each other “full subs where?” on Twitter earlier), but aside from it being used as a meme/joke, it’s not a question that TLers like seeing. If you do feel the need to seriously ask it, please be try to be mindful and courteous to the person you’re asking.

tl;dr: If someone specifically tells you not to bother them about TL requests, don’t. Respect their autonomy and let them decide for themselves if they have the time and motivation for it. Otherwise, it’s usually fine if you ask, but at least try to be nice about it because it’s a heavier question than you think it is.