#meanwhile I let people who tumblr just sticks in the tag for no reason at all survive. those are part of tumblr's natural ecosystem

[twitterdotcom]

I might block everyone with even the slightest bad vibes regarding izzy, but I still keep around that one person with the cat that happens to be named izzy and that person who's really into that musician guy

[lilartifex]

Ink and Fictober 2023 Day #4: "Do you even know what this means?"

Inktober Prompt #4: Dodge

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Fandom: Original Work

Character/s: Bunch o' random superhero + villain OCs made solely for this story.

Additional Tags: Superheroes, Villains, OCs, Attempt at Humor, Comedy, Based on a Tumblr Post (which I now cannot find :') )

Summary: Everyone just has one of those days. You know, those days where everything just gets weirder and weirder and your luck gets worse and worse. In this case, it means a trio of villains-who-aren't-really-villains and a pair of superheroes whose Corporate office decides they want to try out a new strategy. This goes about as well as most Corporate plans when the head honchos have never actually had their feet on the ground.

Quick Note: This is probably the closest thing to crack-writing that I’ve ever written. I have six assignments due over about four weeks. Let me have my goofy story. :3

___

People become villains for all kinds of reasons.

Sometimes it’s for monetary gain. Sometimes it’s to stick it to the man. But sometimes, it’s because of a deep-rooted trauma through years of mistreatment, scorn or abuse at the hands of a cruel world that deserves to burn for eternity for what it has done.

And then sometimes it’s just because it’s fun. And a way to cause chaos when nothing seems to be going right for you, so you’re out to make it everyone else’s problem.

That was mostly what motivated Miss Behave. The city called her a villain. She preferred the term vigilante.

See, most people, if they had superpowers at all, just had these basic little quirks that made everyday life a tiny bit easier. Maybe they could carry twenty shopping bags at a time. Maybe they could run at fifty kilometres per hour and were efficient at daily coffee runs. Maybe they had just enough telepathic strength to stop their hot tea from spilling onto the person beside them and avoid the awkward apologies and social interaction that followed.

Miss Behave didn’t have that. Instead, she was cursed with continuous bad luck, which could only be curbed by redirecting it onto someone else. In school or at work that wasn’t too bad. She could make her lazy coworker deal with all the worst customers, or make her least-favourite teachers’ technology throw a fit all day.

But when she got to university, she found it hard to redirect her powers onto anyone. Her fellow classmates were suffering the same way she was, her lecturers were actually really decent people, and she didn’t have the heart to torture her already-stressed-out coworkers who were, more often than not, in the same boat as her.

So, she decided to redirect it onto people who made the world a crummier place by donning a costume and skipping along buildings on her nights off. It wasn’t her fault that she just so happened to accidentally do it to a few local superheroes who had now convinced the media that she was a menace. They just got in the way and then had their super-suits turn bright pink in the wash. They should’ve been more careful.

Now though, Miss Behave was certain that she mustn’t have been using her powers enough because tonight she and her little team were facing two new superheroes whom they’d never seen before. And on a Monday night, too.

“GEEZ! Freaky, watch where you throw that thing!” screeched her teammate, Brain Freeze.

Their other teammate, The Freak (AKA, “Freaky”) launched another brick at his assailant. “Oi! Do you have any idea how hard it is to control Gorilla arms?” he shouted back. “These things weigh a tonne!”

Miss Behave rolled her eyes.

Freaky could shapeshift, which, in itself was a pretty unusual ability. But when it was coupled with the fact that he could only shapeshift parts of his body and had pretty poor balance even without it, there’s little wonder he was kicked out of the Hero Program. Meanwhile, Brain Freeze could, well, freeze stuff. A pretty minor power, until he sneezed. And considering his almost constant allergies, life wasn’t exactly easy for him either.

The two heroes they were facing were a mentor-sidekick duo dressed in matching reds, oranges and yellows. Brain Freeze and Freaky were doing battle with the mentor, a tall guy called ‘Sunflare’. Miss Behave was facing off on her own against the sidekick, a brunette called Redflame. The names were kind of a giveaway to their powers, but she hadn’t actually seen either of them use them yet. The fight so far had been completely physical. And, other than the heroes’ initial introductions, strangely silent.

Miss Behave glanced up and noticed a small awning above them. It was weighed down with water that had accumulated during the afternoon showers, creating a dip right above where Redflame was standing. Redflame. Water.

Miss Behave shrugged. Easy enough.

She knocked the hero on her backside and concentrated, squishing her face into what Freaky called her ‘About To Mess Crap Up’ face. There was a nasty tearing sound and the awning above Redflame tore open, as if it had been waiting for a while and chosen this moment to inconveniently give way. Which it pretty much had.

Miss Behave grinned as Redflame glanced up sharply, realising the danger she was in. Then she raised a hand and the water just - stopped. It floated above her in mid-air like some sort of freakish bubble.

Redflame froze, realising what she’d done. “Oh, heck.”

Miss Behave recognised that voice. And those powers. “Wait a minute,” she cried in disbelief, “That you under there, Wavelet?”

Redflame hesitated. “Uh… no?”

Miss Behave was only vaguely aware of her teammates’ shouts as they were hurtled out of the way by a wave of water behind her. She was too busy staring at her nemesis in absolute bewilderment.

“It is!” she gawked. “What the Hell? So he must be -”

“Riptide,” came a deep, sour voice behind her. She whirled around, fist flying, but the older hero caught her wrist easily. Now that she was much closer, Miss Behave wondered why on Earth none of them had recognised the pair before. They were two of the most prominent heroes in the city and the only ones she and her teammates fought regularly. True, they were both dressed in completely opposite aesthetics and had different names, but still.

God, she was an awful nemesis. Even the fact that he had disarmed both her teammates and now had her in his iron grip couldn’t shake off her surprise.

“Why?” she managed, staring at him with wide eyes. “I just… WHY?”

“New strategy from the High Ups,” said Redflame - Wavelet - before her mentor could chime in. She’d always been talkative, even for a superhero. “They got it in their heads that we should give rebranding a go. Try and make ourselves out to be the opposite of what we actually are.”

“... Okay, I can see that,” said Miss Behave slowly, “But why?” At this point, she figured that the more she kept them talking, the more chance there was of her teammates getting their act together and getting her out of this mess. Also, she did genuinely want to know what was going on.

“To confuse our enemies,” said Wavelet monotonously, as if she was repeating memorised lines from a script.

Miss Behave had no idea what to say to that. But she had to keep talking, so she said the only thing she could think of, “Er… good for you guys, I guess?”

“‘Good for you guys’?” Riptide burst out. “Do you even know what this means?”

Mis Behave was taken aback by the normally calm hero’s outburst. “Um…”

“It means,” exclaimed Riptide with the air of someone who’d been waiting all day to complain, “That people expect me to set things on fire. With my WATER powers.”

Before she could reply, there was a shout from the street down below.

“Sunflare!” cried a shrill voice. “Sunflare, help! Brain Freeze’s blasts trapped my car in ice!” Miss Behave had a vague recollection of one of her friend’s stray blasts landing down there somewhere. “You need to get rid of it! My taxes pay your wages, you know!”

“AND WHAT THE HELL D’YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?” roared Riptide. “THAW IT OUT SLOWLY WITH LUKEWARM WATER?”

Miss Behave gawked at him.

“He’s… having a day,” explained Wavelet apologetically.

“Right - Wave - uh - Redflame,” growled Riptide, hastily correcting himself, “You deal with this one. I’ll sort out… that.” He spun Miss Behave around and disappeared over the building, sliding down what she assumed must be a PVC pipe.

And that left Miss Behave and Wavelet staring at eachother.

“So…” Miss Behave began awkwardly. “Bad day at the office?”

Wavelet glared at her. “Oh come on! As if you don’t already know!”

Miss Behave blinked. “What?”

“You!” Wavelet flapped her hand at her. “You and your little… Bad Luck powers. You did this to us last time, didn’t you? Cursed us with your… thing.”

“Me? I didn’t do this.” Miss Behave’s day was just getting weirder and weirder. What the heck were they putting in superheroes’ diets these days? Unfiltered drugs or something? “Why would I curse you for something you did on - when was our last battle?”

“Wednesday.”

“Wednesday! Seriously.” Miss Behave shook her head. “You two are annoying, but you’re not THAT annoying.”

Wavelet stared at her. “But I - we thought all this was happening because of you!” she cried helplessly. “And we figured we were sent out to fight you because you’d used your powers or something to manipulate the Patrol Roster so you could gloat at us about your dastardly evil plans for the city and then world domination!”

“... You’ve really overthought this, haven’t you?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Miss Behave sighed and shrugged apologetically. “Yeah, sorry my dude, but that just happens. Corporate be like that sometimes.”

The sidekick stared at her for a moment longer. “You mean we could’ve just pulled a sickie and let someone else fall for the ‘swapping personas’ thing?”

“Yep.”

“Ughhhhhhhhh,” Wavelet moaned dramatically. She glanced down at her mentor, who was still trying to explain to a Karen that no, he could not thaw out an entire car with lukewarm water in under five minutes, and yes, the Superhero Initiative would be sure to cover all costs for the damages.

Miss Behave took the opportunity to glance over her shoulder, where her teammates were starting to get to their feet with a lot of grumbling and groaning. They had a lecture tomorrow, Miss Behave realised, and she hadn’t done the readings.

“You know,” Wavelet said hesitantly, “I think it’s safe to say we’re all just done with today. If I take him-” She jerked a thumb at her mentor below “-home, will you three call it an early night too?”

“Yeah,” said Miss Behave, thinking of her readings, “We will. We’re kinda done too.”

“M’kay, good.” Wavelet hesitated. “But don’t think we’ll let you off next time,” she added quickly. “This is just a one-time thing. Next time we’re back to fighting and there won’t be any breaks. We’re gonna actually arrest you.”

“Sure you will,” yawned Miss Behave absently. “Like you have every other time.”

Wavelet scrunched her nose but didn’t reply. With a last weary wave, she summoned a small stream of water from the air around her and slid down to collect her mentor.

Brain Freeze and Freaky finally managed to pull themselves to their feet and made their way over to Miss Behave. They had clearly heard everything. And they were arguing, as usual.

“I’m just saying,” said Brain Freeze as they approached, “That it wouldn’t be too bad a strategy. Nobody would be able to keep track of their powers and guess their weaknesses until they actually saw them in action. No point in giving away vital information in the very word people use to identify you, is there?”

“It would only last until people started seeing their powers in action,” Freaky reminded him. “Then it wouldn’t matter what they were called. Everyone would know it’s the opposite.”

“They could change their names and appearances regularly,” reasoned Brain Freeze.

“Yeah, but the branding, Brain, think about the branding,” argued Freaky. “How would anyone franchise them if they did that?”

“C’mon guys,” Miss Behave moaned. “I’ve had enough tonight. And I’ve got readings to do. Let’s just go home.”

༝ ˚ ｡⟡ ｡ ˚ ༝

Down below, Wavelet had convinced Riptide that they were done for the night and that the Initiative probably wouldn’t mind if they called in and said their new ‘strategy’ was a bust. She’d reassured him that the villains had managed to escape tonight, although it might be a while before they tried anything again.

He’d managed to calm the Karen down enough for the pair of them to slip off, but as they were about to go Wavelet caught the sound of voices drifting down from the rooftop above. She paused to listen.

“Yeah, I’m done too,” came The Freak’s voice. “Pizza at my place?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not a half-bad plan!” That was Brain Freeze. “Better than how I got MY name, anyway.”

A snort. “Brain, you chugged an entire Macca’s slushie and then got a two-minute brain freeze.” Miss Behave. Wavelet’s ears perked up. “If that isn’t deserving of a name, I don’t know what is.”

“I hate you guys.”

Wavelet listened as their footsteps slowly moved away, before turning to catch up with her mentor.

As she fell into step with him, she had to duck her head to hide her grin.

[antiloreolympus]

14 Anti LO Asks

1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.

Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because

A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.

B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 

2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??

3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.

4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.

5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭

6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).

I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.

Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).

Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.

Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.

Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.

Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.

However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).

So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.

(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )

7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.

8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.

9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.

10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?

11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.

(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨

12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).

Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.

(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 

13. FP Spoiler ahead:

Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.

14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?

[dvarapala]

🔥

flame emoji // @pyreshe

🔥 we all know that the cw has a problem with people of color and writing them correctly (see celeste, and lisina, and aya, and bonnie bennett, who should have been the protagonist of tvd imho because she is so much more compelling than elena, who didn't even get her book personality or her angel wings). but they also have an asian people problem. in the sense that they're, imho, constantly failing them: roswell new mexico? three seasons in and we haven't seen any asian characters aside from the evil indian alien guy from s1.

tvd: aimee bradley played by tiya sicar got killed by katherine because she had a point to make, meanwhile amber bradley, a white girl, lived.

to: gia got killed by one white man for another white man's man pain and suddenly there is no way to resurrect her even though characters came back from the dead before like davina; vincent was happy with ivy but whoops she died for dumb reasons too; van was, if i remember correctly, trying to take care of his family and got raked across the coals for it, and killed for it.

legacies: sanskrit is a core elective at the salvatore school yet there are zero indian characters. except for emma tig, the counselor, whose backstory consists of scraps that are haphazardly stitched together. emma tig flits in and out of the narrative and her character is as unsteady as i am whenever i walk in heels. oh! and don't forget that one nameless indian vampire who had something to do with malivore and then got eaten by it. and don’t even get me started on finch.

and to be fair, i didn't realize this before either. but now that i know, i can't unsee it. and i know it's not really up to the fans to fix stuff like this, and i hope this doesn't come across as me trying to push you - general you - or pressure you because that's not at all my intention. but i can't help but notice that there is only one (1) indian oc in the tvd ocs tag, none in the to ocs tag and none in the legacies ocs tag at the moment, and that there aren't any asian tvd/to/legacies ocs on the rp side of tumblr either.

which is so sad because legacies had the malivore plotline going for a long while: you could use jessie mei li as a child of xihe, and have them be like: "what's a malivore?" while she gathers their bearings and gets on alaric's nerves. or use naomi scott in her power rangers era as either a supernatural creature or a hunter. use simone ashley as a caroline forbes-esque human. or heck, use simone ashley as caroline!

it just sucks that indian characters only exist in tvdu canon to be canon fodder or a side character that gets brought in every once in a while. i tried for a while to bring gia back and though i had lovely interactions that i’ll cherish, it was a struggle sticking with her: i continually lost her muse because i felt as though most people - not all, but most of them - didn't particularly care about gia or what i tried to do with her so i stopped writing her.

not to mention the arrowverse and the way they utterly, utterly failed their characters of color. especially their asian ones like mckenna hall and william dey while white characters like lena luthor get a pass. despite the fact that she brutalized two men of color: malefic and russell rogers. don’t think i’ve forgotten about the way people cheered after william got killed on the show. don’t think i’ve forgotten about jack spheer.

emma, gia, aimee, mckenna, william, jack. all of them are amazing characters to take on and bring back. and yet, as far as i know, as far as i’ve seen, no one writes them.

so let me ask a question that’s been on my mind for a while now: are we really that uncompelling to write about? or is it just that you - general you - don’t feel like doing the necessary research?

[venusofthehardsells]

No Rest for the Wicked [Dea ex Machina part one]

John ConstantinexAngel!Reader Summary: You travel to a remote island to put a murderous spirit to rest, but things get complicated when you run into one John Constantine. Warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness, blood, smoking, ghosts, pining, is slowburn a warning? A/N: My first Constantine fic on tumblr, yay! This was originally written for a challenge aaages ago, but it got away from me and I couldn’t meet the deadline. I had so much fun with this though, Constantine is a great character to write for! There will definitely be more stories about him and this particular angelic reader in the future ♥

I’ve mixed elements from both the Vertigo comics and the NBC TV series, as well as from the general DC Universe, so don’t expect accuracy when it comes to canon. A special thanks to @nellblazer​​ for support and linguistic aid, you’re the best! ♥ Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged ~

Contrary to common belief, there had never actually been any ravens on Raven’s Rock. The tiny, windswept fleck of land in the North Sea had been named a few hundred years ago by a fool of a sailor, who hadn’t been able to tell a raven from a severely lost and consequently very confused Scandinavian pigeon. Said sailor had regrettably also been of some importance in his homeland at the time, meaning no one had bothered to correct the unfortunate mistake for fear of losing a head. Even though everyone who since came upon the island only ever managed to find gulls and puffins and various other seabirds, it had still kept its misleading English name.

The Celts, who by rights had been on the island long before the British, had chosen to play it safe and completely forego the bird names (although it had been suggested several times in later centuries to change it to the Gaelic word for seagull, or even pigeon, as a taunt). Instead, they had most likely looked to the ancient ruins that specked the island, jutting up from the rocks like broken teeth and, all things considered, had endured well beyond memory and history and legend. Or perhaps they had still been reeling from the mad determination that had brought them and their wooden ships so far from home. Whichever the case, they had called the stubborn, little rock Innis Seasmhach, “the steadfast island”.

That was its official name to this day, though most people, especially those who didn’t speak Gaelic (which in all fairness are not very many), still referred to it as Raven’s Rock.

The locals shrugged and simply called it “the island”.

There was only one village on the entire island, whose population on a good day might reach a hundred and thirty people. That usually only happened a few times during summer when the ferries from Stavanger and Aberdeen docked at the same time. The tourists came to see the ruins, buy a souvenir fridge magnet of a raven or a puffin, complain about the frightfully bleak weather and leave again on one of the ferries that departed before evenfall, secretly happy they didn’t have to spend any more time on the island.

On the day you arrived, the population on the isle of Raven’s Rock, was an astounding one hundred and forty four, which was quite unheard of in the middle of October.

What was even more unheard of, however, was the reason for all these untimely appearances.

A night ago, a pair of fishermen had discovered the body of a man in a small, secluded cove on the north side of the island. The body was placed so that it could only be seen from sea, unless one were to venture down a rocky and extremely narrow trail into the cove itself. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone slipping and ending up on the stony beach below. That kind of unfortunate death was of course tragic, but it hardly warranted the wide array of policemen and journalists the death had attracted. No, the reason for the sudden interest was the gruesome way the body had been displayed.

The dead man had been stripped bare and splayed out on the rocks like a cross with his arms stretched away from his torso. His skin was almost completely covered in symbols and writing no one could make sense of, though one expert, when consulted by the mystified and slightly desperate police, vaguely suggested it was possibly a rare pre-Arthurian dialect.

The more macabre specifics had so far been kept out of the press.

One was that the writings on the body had been done in blood, the corpse’s own, and another was that it came from where the head had been crudely severed from the rest of the flesh and spiked close by on a piece of driftwood.

Even hypnotised, the young sergeant who had told you, had looked slightly green when he related the information. You had padded him sympathetically on the shoulder before moving on. He wouldn’t remember revealing the details to you, but the information itself was seared into his mind forever.

His, along with the rest of the islanders’, you mused as you continued from the harbour and on into the village.

The locals called it “town”, but in truth it wasn’t really big enough to warrant that title.

It had one store that sold a little bit of everything depending on the weather, a church, a pub, a repair shop (it wasn’t specified what exactly you could get repaired there) and a public building, functioning as city hall, police station, post office, library and school in one. All the police reinforcements from Aberdeen had been moved into the city hall, seeing as the only two policemen permanently stationed on the island had never handled a murder case before. Meanwhile, the reporters and TV crews covering the case were taking up the pub’s five tiny bedrooms, both B&Bs and every single rental cottage Raven’s Rock could boast (nine in total if you counted the back room in the garage of the repair shop). Because you had left for the airport in a hurry and jumped onto the first plane to Norway, you hadn’t had time to secure a place to sleep on the island. You had pondered it on the ferry, but when it came down to it, you didn’t want to stick around longer than a day. If you worked fast, you could probably be on your way back to the mainland in the morning and wouldn’t need to worry about finding a bed. You had spotted a bench down by the harbour; it would have to do.

Besides, you didn’t have any time to waste as long as the murder case was unsolved. You could still hear Madame Xanadu’s words in your head like some annoying ominous echo.

A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks. The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Fate was a menace when you had to deal with it like this, grounded and fumbling through the world with nothing but scraps to guide you. Not like in the old days when you had all of Heaven at your disposal… Being a proper angel had really had its advantages. You scoffed and walked faster. At least this prophecy had been pretty straightforward, which was far from what you were usually given to work with, you thought sourly, folding your arms around yourself against the wind.

A malevolent spirit that should have passed on, but hadn’t was easy enough to figure out; it happened all the time and you could deal with that. The location of the spirit had also been a walk in the park with so many hints to go on.

What really worried you was the second part of Madame Xanadu’s little mystic insight.

The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Blood drinking was never a good omen in prophecies. It hardly ever meant vampires, usually just death. And the laughing magician, well, that one was always the same. The reason Madame Xanadu had called upon you to restore the balance in this place.

John Constantine.

Whenever one of her foresights indicated that the blonde warlock was walking into something he couldn’t handle himself, she sent you after him or, in this case, ahead to clear his path for him. Most times, he didn’t even know you had been there and you preferred it that way.

Like now.

The last you had heard of John was that he was in the States. Sufficiently far away, you thought. Even if someone had alerted him to the murder on Raven’s Rock, it would be at least another day before he could reach the windswept little island and by then you hoped to be long gone. It was best if you two didn’t meet at all.

You chewed on your lip as you thought of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, it was just… easier if you didn’t. The things you did, the jobs you took were simply too dangerous if your focus wasn’t a hundred per cent on the task in front of you. And with John around, your newly mortal heart had a tendency to make your better judgement evaporate.

You passed a phonebox on the main (and only) street that looked as though it had seen better days and a small tourist information office/part time bakery with its doors and windows shut for the night, before you reached the seemingly only building in town with light and, admittedly subdued, noise streaming out of it: the pub. Apart from the city hall, you reckoned it must be the oldest building around, but also by far the one in best repair. The wooden sign above the heavy green door was, unsurprisingly, in the shape of a very sinister looking gull and it swayed in the wind with an ominous creak that made a shiver run down your spine, as if trying to dissuade you from entering.

Well, it wasn’t very likely that you would get any information elsewhere. With determination in your steps, you walked the last few cobbled steps to the door and went inside.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, the patrons, the energies... and you froze on the threshold.

On a stool by the bar sat the very man you had hoped to avoid. He had taken off his signature trench coat and his back was towards you, but it didn't matter; you would recognise him blindfolded. He was so thoroughly cloaked and shrouded in magical protections of all sorts that the space he occupied was practically a vacuum. It was damn near impossible to locate him by magic, you knew. If one weren't looking directly at him, like you were now, no sixth sense or intricate spell would reveal his whereabouts. But his was a vacuum you had come to know very well. So well in fact, that by now you could pin him down by his apparent lack of magic, rather than by his well-hidden magical signature, and yet, there he was, sitting only half a room away from you with a drink in one hand and one of his ghastly Silk Cuts resting between the fingers of the other. And you hadn't noticed. You hadn't even done a quick scan to see if there were other magical presences on the island when you arrived. Worse, you hadn't cloaked yourself as thoroughly as you normally would have done and your own signature reached him before you could even think to try and prevent it.

From the way he straightened his back and immediately snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray as if someone had shouted at him to show some care, you could tell he knew you were there. He shifted ever so slightly as if making room for you and you sighed. There was no getting out of this one.

Getting rid of your raincoat, you went over and crawled onto the empty stool next to him.

You were met with that wicked smirk of his that made your heart stutter and stumble in your chest.

"Now, there's a pleasant surprise to brighten this hellhole," he greeted, raising his glass at you. "Must confess, I never guessed I'd be running into you on this godforsaken rock, luv."

"Hello John." You did with a nod, trying to keep your voice even. "Can't say I expected this to be your sort of retreat either."

The warm light in the pub shone in John Constantine's dark eyes and his smirk grew into a grin.

"It's good to see you, luv. I've missed that disapproving pout o' yours. The fact that I never know when I'll see it again makes it so much sweeter."

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't attempt to hide your burning cheeks. The bastard couldn’t possibly know exactly how brightly your torch for him was burning, but he always acted accordingly.

"So, what are you doing here then? Odd place for playing tourist, innit?"

He leaned on the counter, his hand moving closer to where yours was resting and there was that little, dark gleam of hope in his eyes that always appeared when he looked at you. As if there was somehow some other reasonable purpose you could have to be in a place like this, at a time like this.

You shrugged, biting down a smile.

"I find the climate rather agreeable."

John threw his head back and laughed at that. Even the barkeep, who had overheard your words, snorted. You caught his gaze before he turned back around and ordered a sparkling water.

"Right. And I just happened by to see the sights, eh?"

"Well, what do you think of them then?"

You raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of the fizzy water the barkeep placed in front of you. John grinned and gave you an obvious once-over. Your dirty boots and high-neck jumper didn't seem to put him off.

"Much improved since this morning. At this rate, I can't wait to see how they'll look in the night."

"Oh, I ought to slap that smirk off your smug face, wizard," you sighed, feeling how your stomach was practically fluttering at his suggestive tone.

"Is that a promise, luv?"

"You're insufferable."

"Aye, that I am, luv, but you keep coming back for more. Must be doing something right, eh?"

You bit your lip and looked down; he suddenly felt too close. And the general level of noise inside the pub from people chattering wasn't as high as you had hoped. It would be easy for others to overhear anything you said. Given the island-wide unrest over the murder, you were sure ears were perked more than usual and you didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, or John. You would have to gather more information some other way.

"I missed you, too," you confessed, staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar as if they were all of a sudden exceedingly interesting. "But I... I thought you were helping out a certain green vigilante overseas these days."

John visibly tensed up.

"Who told you that?"

You shrugged, still not looking directly at him. The truth was that he couldn't really hide from you, not even in your current state. If he found out though, you didn't doubt for a second that his heated flirting would be switched for a literal knife in the back before you could even think the word "portal". Well, perhaps not literal, but you had no doubt the outcome would be fatal for you anyway.

"Who told you to come here?," you countered, raising an eyebrow and John scoffed.

"If you must know, I got a call from an old friend. Looks like she's been scrying on her own and this little spit of land kept drawing all her energy. Didn't seem like something I could ignore."

"You should've," you mumbled, taking a large slurp of your water and doing your best to ignore the persistent little spark of envy starting to gnaw away at you at his choice of words. What old friend? It had to be someone he had slept with, it always was with him. Why couldn't you just not care? "Take my advice, John, leave. Go home and lay low. I'll handle this island."

"Is that concern for old Johnny I hear, luv?," he asked with mock-surprise.

"Maybe. Don't let it get to your head, your ego won't be able to fit into that coat of yours."

He chuckled, but the tension was still there and you didn't know how to break it without giving him the truth, or at least something close.

"Your turn, pretty bird. I don't believe in coincidences like this, so tell me. How'd you know to come here?"

Lying to John Constantine was out of the question. As was being honest with him.

You chewed on your lip a bit, weighing your options. It wasn't like him to accept any kind of help unless he was downright desperate and that was still a long way off. If you challenged him though, he was most likely to flee, that much you knew. But you didn't want to get on his bad side unless you had absolutely no other choice.

"Leave," you repeated. "This one's out of your league, John. Let me take care of it, please."

The way your eyes were pleading with him made him frown and you realised you might have shown too much of your hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, luv." His hand was on top of yours on the bar before you could move it. To anyone looking, it seemed like an affectionate gesture, but he was effectively pinning you in place. "Not until you give me a bloody good reason not to give you the same treatment as whatever beast it is we're dealing with on this island."

"Let go of me."

Your voice wasn't very loud, but you knew he could hear you. He answered by pressing down harder on your hand and you winced.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe I just want to keep you safe?," you all but hissed at him, emptying your drink with a sour expression.

"Oh, I trust you just about as far as I can throw you, luv. Every time I see your pretty little face it means there's trouble brewing just around the corner."

"I saved your life in Tennessee. And in Derry," you tried, but his hold didn't loosen. If anything, John was now gripping your hand so hard no blood could possibly flow to your fingers. "I am trying to do your stubborn Scouse arse a bloody favour, why can't you just for once in your damn life listen to me?"

"Tell me your name then and maybe I will."

Fuck. Somehow it always came down to that.

"Xanadu," you snapped through gritted teeth, eyeing John with what you hoped was an appropriate amount of ire. "Xanadu contacted me and told me about this place. Happy? Obviously, she wasn't going to tell you now, was she?"

John withdrew his hand from you as though you'd burned him. It felt about as pleasant as a punch to the teeth, but you tried not to let it show on your face.

"I suppose you're right...," he admitted. "What did she tell you then? Her usual cryptic nonsense I reckon?"

"For someone in your line of work, you're not at all keen on prophecy reading, are you?," you sighed, forcing a bit of humour into your words.

There was no love lost between John Constantine and Madame Xanadu, that much had been clear to you from the beginning. But even though she couldn't stand the sight of him, she believed John was instrumental in keeping the world safe and had begrudgingly agreed to help you protect him when she could.

"Not really my style. I prefer things more tangible, to the point. Besides, I don't need to worry about divination when I have you."

"You rarely do."

"Not by my choice, luv."

Your eyes flickered back to the empty glass in front of you and you had to take a very slow breath to try and steady yourself. His effect on you was too strong for you to be safe around him. Your job required a clear head - for both your sakes.

"A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks," you recited, steeling your voice as you averted his unspoken question the way you always did. "It wasn't that cryptic at all for once."

He didn't need to hear the other part. You could feel his eyes roaming your face, trying to figure you out, looking for something without fully knowing what. It was at times like these you missed your wings. Keeping secrets in a human body full of emotions and urges and reactions beyond your immediate control was frustrating at best. It was another reason you were better off keeping your distance.

After a while of searching your features, John sighed and gave up.

"Alright. So it's probably some kind of malevolent spirit then, wreaking havoc. Don't see why you're so worried luv, sounds like any other Tuesday to me."

The barkeep was close enough for you to signal for a refill to you both. He grunted something unintelligible, obviously not too keen on all the Brits suddenly hanging out in his pub. You made sure to send him a grateful smile as he filled your glasses, yours with sparkling water, John's with whisky.

"My weeks are all Mondays," you said and raised the glass to your lips; just as you had hoped, John did the same. "Did you get here in time to see the body?"

"Only after they moved it. Wasn't pretty..." He took another swig while staring at the wall with a distant glaze clouding his eyes that told you he wasn't seeing the wall at all. "Pathologist told me the man had been alive when 'is head was severed. The, er... the inscriptions..." John looked just as sickly green as the constable had done and very gently you put your hand on his shoulder. A small gesture of reassurance. "I'm tired," he whispered suddenly. He turned his head to look at you and your heart ached when you realised how glassy his eyes had become. "I am just so bloody tired. Demons, vampires, curses, spirits, the lot. No matter where I go, there're always more and people die, it never stops. Innocent people, good people... I just want a fucking break, but if I don't stop the darkness from spreading, who will?"

His voice was thin and on the verge of breaking entirely. You wanted nothing more than to lean forwards on the stool and put your arms around him, somehow make him know he wasn't alone, but the risk was too great. You were in too deep already.

"Sometimes I wonder whether it's all worth it..."

"Of course it's worth it, John," you said quietly, clenching his shoulder. "We do what we have to so they...," you gestured discreetly towards the patrons, ”they can go on living their lives and not... not know and see the things we do..."

"I know, luv, I know. I just... I want..." The gloom that was always lurking just below the surface of his existence was spilling into his eyes. He was weary to the bone, deep into his very soul. For a moment, you thought he was going to let the tears burst. "I risk my life every day and it's never bloody enough, is it? A man got his head carved off by some wretched spirit who should have been resting in peace. Fuckin’ Hell..."

He rubbed his eyes hard and you decided then what to do. You didn't like it one bit, but seeing John this worn down, well, you liked that even less. It meant you had been sleeping on the job.

As subtly as you could, you put your hand in your pocket and found the tiny zip-bag with a pinch of purple powder in it. It wasn't something you used often and it had never been meant for John, but you couldn't in good conscience let him go after a rogue spirit in his current state. While he emptied his glass again, you drizzled the powder into your hand and braced yourself.

"John, look at me. It's going to be alright. You are John Constantine and without you this world would have ended twelve times in the last decade, maybe more. And right now you are going to save this island, because that is what you do. So get off your sulking arse and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We have a job here. You're going to find that spirit and put it out of its misery before it hurts someone else, got it?"

He huffed, but even so raised his head and managed a small grateful smile at the reprimand.

"Yes. You're right. Thank you, luv. You always know what to say..." His eyes darted to your lips and for half a heartbeat, you did nothing, just sat there and waited for him to lean in the rest of the way and kiss you. It was far from the first time it had happened, but you still felt at war with yourself. There wasn't a single atom left in you anymore that didn't crave his affection. He was drunk and emotional and between the way he looked at you and the way there suddenly seemed to be less and less space separating your bodies, there was no doubt about his intention. It would be so easy just to finally give in and let it happen.

"Don't thank me."

Before he could lean back or ask you what you meant, you blew the purple powder straight into his face.

His eyes widened in shock, but his body immediately began to turn relaxed and pliant.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me...," he mumbled, but his gaze was already unfocused.

"I'm so sorry, John," you whispered, gently guiding his torso onto the bar.

He tried to say something more, but his words were slurred and within a few seconds, he was gone.

You had gotten the sleeping powder from a dealer in New Orleans, who had told you the effects would last at least four hours. They always oversold their stuff, but hopefully John would be out long enough for you to deal with the entire affair if you hurried up and took a few shortcuts. It was a messy solution, but then again, you hadn't planned on him being here. Desperate times and all that.

"He gonna be lying there all night?," the barkeep grumbled with a raised eyebrow at John when you hopped down from your stool. You put on the best smile you could manage under the circumstances and slid 50 quid across the counter.

"He'll come ‘round soon enough. If not, I'll be back for him in a few."

You practically fled the pub before he could ask you any more questions.

The road outside was deserted and you hoped no one was watching as you marched to the lonely phone box you had spotted earlier. It didn't look like anyone had used it in several years, but when you picked up the receiver the dial tone was there alright.

You took out a stained, battered playing card from the depths of one of your pockets (the seven of diamonds) and slid it into the credit card slot. You didn't own a mobile phone and neither did most of your acquaintances, but still you had memorised the few numbers you occasionally needed.

"Hey Chas, it's me," you said when the answering machine finally picked up. "I'm at the island with John and I haven't got much time. I don’t want to get John involved in this so I need to work fast. There's no need to worry, really, I've got it under control, but... just in case something unforeseen happens, uhm... if I don't call back in let's say ten hours, will you let John know where to find my body? He can't track me in his usual ways, so he'll need your help."

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What you were about to do was risky, maybe even reckless.

"I'm going to the beach where they found the dead man and work my way from there. If... if I don't succeed..." It was as if your throat was suddenly full of gravel. "Chas, please, just make sure John isn't the one to take on that spirit. He is not ready for that." Too late, you held the receiver away from your face while you tried to suppress a sniffle. So much for convincing Chas Chandler that you had things under control. Forcing your voice to even out, you continued. "I have to go. Just help him if I can’t, okay? And don’t worry too much. I’ll probably see you in a couple of days.”

Before you could say anything even more stupid, you hung up and slid your helpful seven of diamonds back into your coat. Handy little thing to have on you.

You left the phone box in the last light of day and made your way down to the beach. It took you twenty minutes to reach the cove and less than one to sneak under the police tape unseen. There were just two constables standing guard at the scene and they only looked when you wanted them to. For an active crime scene, the site was unusually quiet, but you attributed your luck to the dusk that made searching for clues almost impossible.

Of course, that went for you as well, you thought sourly as you carefully stepped around the little plastic numbers the police forensics had put up all over the little stretch of beach. You could make out the bloody piece of driftwood and the large dark spatter running down the stones where the corpse had lain, but nothing smaller than those. Even if the place was rather secluded, you didn’t dare light a torch with the uniforms standing idly guard so close by.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and concentrated.

The place was tingling with dark energy and it became clearer the more you felt around, using your own magic.

A spirit, just like you had anticipated. A lost soul preying on the living for… revenge? Yes, the bloody traces sang with the mad desire for vengeance that so often kept the dead from their rest. 

Bloodshed, the thirst temporarily quenched. Then what?

The movements of the spirit became blurry after that no matter how hard you tried to focus. The leftover energy had been disturbed and mixed with the signatures of all the people who had been to the crime scene since the discovery of the body and it was impossible to make out without assistance, even for someone as experienced as you.

If you couldn’t locate the soul, you couldn’t send it packing. 

Luring it via séance required more people and it was too risky for everyone involved anyway. Without its name, summoning it was out of the question as well.

You groaned when you realised what you had to do.

Making sure for the last time you couldn’t be seen from the line of police tape above you, you took off your backpack and dark raincoat and shoved both of them under the nearest rock. Next, you loosened your boots and sat them next to the backpack, then your thick scarf and woollen jumper. With short, angry movements, you rolled your trousers down and folded them hastily, ripped off your socks and wriggled out of your top.

“You’re so bloody lucky I love you, John,” you mumbled through clenched teeth that were starting to rattle in your skull. With fingers already numb from the cold, you unclasped your bra and slid down your underwear before you could change your mind, and with a deep breath, you stepped into the waves.

Even before you went into the sea, your body had been covered in goosebumps from the chilly October air, but the surfs rising around your legs now made you heave for breath with every step forward. The rocks under your feet were dull compared to the sharpness of the water. When it reached you mid-thigh you had to stop and wait for the pain to subside enough so that you could get further out. You were too close to the beach and the water was still too shallow for your purpose.

A tangle of seaweed drifted past your ankle, or at least you hoped it was just seaweed. It was hard to tell for sure in the dark.

Your submerged muscles were screaming as you forced yourself out until the water reached your ribs. If only that wretched spirit hadn’t chosen the middle of the bleeding autumn to throw its tantrum.

“Sacred Nanuet, your humble servant speaks to you,” you intoned through gritted teeth and held out your hands on either side of you so the gentle waves touched the palms of your hands. “She beseeches you; allow her the honour of sharing in your wisdom. Blessed goddess, lend her your sight and expand her understanding, your humble servant begs of you, great Nanuet…”

The ancient language you muttered your request in felt strange on your tongue as always, but your flattery worked. You could feel the magic start to sing under your hands and so you took a deep breath and lowered yourself completely into the sea.

The stranglehold of the freezing water somehow got pushed into the background of your conscience and within a beat of your heart your mind was alight with images. Through the water, you could see most of the world, but you focused on Raven’s Rock and the little beach behind you. The water had seen it all. From the depths of the ocean, it rolled onto the sand and sneaked its way under the island’s rocks, seeped into the soil and was drunk by the hungry roots of The Green, stretching into the light above ground…

It wasn’t long before you managed to zero in on the exact event you needed. The Sight of Nanuet allowed your mind to access the memory of the watery abyss, which included as good as all water on Earth and not a lot of people mastered navigating it anymore. You had been forced to use a lot of wordly magic since you lost your wings and so had learned to find what you needed relatively easy.

Through the Sight, you saw the murder of the man on the beach, how the spirit severed his head and lapped at the blood before turning away from the scene. It lost some of its shape then, but through the dewy grass above the cove and the moist air, you managed to follow it away from the beach and across the land.

The spirit held its physical form, or at least the overall contours of it, and it made it easier to trail. From what you could tell, it definitely had been human when it had been alive. Poor thing. If only it hadn’t gone and murdered someone, maybe you could have sent it to rest. 

But would you even be there if it hadn’t?

When the spirit finally settled, you had followed it to an old, abandoned stone house with no windows and a door rotting away on the hinges. The place must have been a farm. There were several small outhouses scattered around the main building and indents in the earth marking former animal pens. The roof had been a thatched one, but now it was more moss than straw and what still remained beneath the heavy green patches had long since turned mouldy and dark. A few shards of glass jutted from some of the window frames like crude, predatory teeth waiting to chew up whoever was unfortunate or foolish enough to get close.

You went after the spirit through the remnants of the front door.

A voice in the back of your head told you it was enough, you should get out of the house and the Sight and the water. You had what you needed for now.

But the way the spirit slumped through the dark rooms and up a ramshackle staircase, as if it had done it a hundred times before, as if it belonged there in that house, intrigued you. It didn't match your original theory, the reason you didn't want John involved.

Curiosity piqued, you followed the lonely ghost up the stairs, where it turned left and went into a room with what had been two alcoves in the wall but were now mostly caved in. The room didn't have any windows and it was hard to make out the details, but the flimsy shape of the spirit trudged towards one of the beds and with motions as if the bedding had still been intact, it lay down and pulled the memory of a blanket over itself.

You slowly got closer, unsure of what to do. The visible shape of the ghost was gone now that it was no longer in motion and the general gloom of the empty house made it near impossible for you to see anything clearly. But the person the ghost had been once seemed so at home here. You couldn't feel any hostility from it at all, not even a trace. Only peace, comfort. Quiet.

This had been its home once when it had lived, you were almost certain of it.

But the desolate little stone house, out of the way even for the island's standard, must have stood abandoned for several decades, maybe even a century or two. If the ghost had lived here it was much older than you had initially thought.

Which meant you might have knocked John out for nothing.

Fuck.

You had to find out more and fast, but it was unlikely the memory of the house before your closed eyes would yield anything further. Even if it was dark and late in the evening, you would have to go there physically. The chances of finding something would be higher, and besides, you couldn't stay in the water forever. You were almost human, after all.

The thought had barely crossed your mind before the reflex to breathe kicked in and you could feel the freezing seawater rush down your throat. One inhale was all it took for your lungs to feel heavy as a pair of burning bricks. A fleeting realisation, that drowning was one of the most unpleasant sensations you’d had the misfortune of experiencing since losing your wings, faintly made it to the front of your perception before the back of your head hit the sand on the ocean floor. Then the only thing you could focus on was the pressure of the water and the way your body grew ever more numb…

The room still flickered before your eyes, slowly losing definition as you lost consciousness. Strange, you mused with your last bit of coherence, that an angel from Heaven should die looking up at it from so far below, in the cold embrace of the sea. It wasn't even painful anymore, the water, but oddly comforting, lulling you to rest, holding you tight.

The only regret you had was leaving John…

The last thing you saw before your eyes fell shut was his face above yours and a faint smile moved your lips. How very considerate of your mind to conjure up his image as the last thing you would ever see.

You could feel his arms around you even, fingers digging into your skin, his body pressed down against your own…

“Bloody fucking Hell, let her go!” The words didn’t make sense to you and they sounded so awfully far away. “She isn’t yours, you stupid paegan relic, let go of her! Let go!”

But you were, you were letting go, there was nothing more you could do.

“Christ, luv, which heathen tosspot did you enlist to drown you?! Yam, Ægir? Tiamat? Nanuet? Nanuet, isn’t it?” At the invocation of her name, you could feel the ancient goddess slacken her hold on you, as if in surprise, and you vaguely realised that the embrace you felt didn’t belong to her or the water, but to John. “Oh, you always were a fickle tart. Let go of this servant or so help me God, I, John Constantine, will destroy you and every last shrine still bearing your blasted name! Let her go!”

With a cry you weren’t sure was even coming from you, your face broke the surface of the waves. You violently coughed up seawater and if it weren’t for John’s arms, you would have fallen right back down into the deep. Your head was spinning. The numbness gave way to a cold so freezing you might as well have been rolling in needles. Everything hurt. Your legs felt unsteady, no, your entire body felt as if someone had replaced your bones with straw and your muscles with jelly.

“J-John…,” you coughed, but he shushed you, keeping you close to him in the water.

“I know, luv, it’s a bloody miracle you aren’t dead, you’re welcome for that. Now let’s get you out of the water, yeah?”

He was really there, drenched in the North Sea in the middle of October at what might as well have been the edge of the Earth, just to save you from drowning. His white shirt and black trousers clung to his frame like film and from what you could make out in the light from the moon, he was shuddering from the cold, too. You had never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

“I c-can’t m-m-move,” you got out through teeth rattling painfully in your skull, suddenly all too aware of your proximity and your own state of undress. As much as you wanted to cling to him for warmth, for closeness, the logical part of your muddled brain was screaming at you to keep your distance. That was what you did, wasn’t it?

“‘Course you can’t. How long were you under for, anyway? Completely off your rocker summoning a paegan goddess alone at night in the middle of the bloody ocean! What were you thinking?”

“I-I saw the g-ghost,” you weakly tried stammering through your clattering teeth. “Saw h-how it killed-ungh!”

You let out a groan as John swiftly picked you up and started carrying you towards shore. Your severely tested heart felt as though it might give out entirely. Never had you been reckless enough to let him touch you like this before, to let him hold you, as if you were a lover who would readily indulge in such intimacy. If it weren’t for the fact that you were very likely about to freeze to death, your cheeks would have been on fire. Every inch of your skin would have been scorching.

As it were, you were too cold and too exhausted for your body to produce that kind of heat. Surrendering to the fatigue in your bones, you allowed your head to rest against him and closed your eyes. He could carry you to shore or to Hell on his hands. You weren’t going to argue. For the first time in all your human life, you completely let your guard down.

[alexseanchai]

Fanfic 2020 in Review

I got tagged by @kasienda @noirshitsuji and @marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

*filters own works to complete and updated in 2020*

1 - 20 of 57 Works by AlexSeanchai

nope. *adds filter to include only works of at least 1000 words*

unless otherwise indicated, these are all Miraculous Ladybug:

“don’t bake it lying down”, post-reveal Marichat vs Felix Graham de Vanily

“veracity”, canon divergence from “Ladybug” featuring Mister Bug and Verity Queen (so also Marichat, I guess)

“(no request is too extreme, if) your heart is in your dream”, in which Hawkmoth wins, for the thirty seconds or so before Emilie saves Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives

“tell me you love me and make me believe it”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire ropes Ladybug into helping plan her civilian self’s escape slash social transition

“kingmaker, oathbreaker”, in which Hawkmoth wins and Emilie watches her son remove himself from the family

“stay and let me watch you break it down” (Twelve Dancing Princesses), a modern setting

“set a course for winds of fortune”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire has already escaped and Gabriel and Nathalie are trying to bring Gabriel’s son home

“we ground love in a hopeless place”, in which post-reveal Marinette’s attempt to remain resolutely not in love with her partner dissolves like sugar in coffee when they start a pun war

“ring the bells that still can ring”, in which Alya is deeply confused about why Adrien and Marinette are planning a wedding when last night both were single

“burning wishes at both ends (the cold wind and long loud wail remix)”, in which Gabriel made a monkey’s paw wish and Emilie makes another

“words cannot espresso”, in which Marinette’s OC roommate is justifiably worried for Marinette’s safety, and meanwhile Adrien takes care of Marinette

“the compromise of truth” (the chronologically second-earliest part posted to date of nine lives, snake’s eyes), in which Adrien tells his friends how he won some freedom and respect from his father

“At The Present Time”, the Ladrien/Ladynoir marriage proposal follow-up to @art-deco-shrimp‘s  “Your Presents Required”

“j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”, in which the events of canon must just have been a series of dream sequences, Marinette and Adrien both think, until they both arrive at Chloe’s Halloween masquerade dressed as themselves from the dreams

2) Number of words written:

ahahaha no. I am not counting all my scattered fic drafts and trying to figure out what I did and didn’t write in 2020. I refuse.

AO3 says I posted 162K in 2020. it is counting all of keeps you guessing (like any real love), which (a) I started posting in 2019 (b) is co-written by @galahadwilder​; it is counting all of my meta snippets collection, much of which was written in 2019; it is counting the Vimeo passwords for my vids. but I probably cleared 150K by a safe margin.

3) Your most popular fic:

“veracity” has a four-digit kudos count, wow, when’d that happen? this is also the 2020 work with the most hits and the most bookmarks, but “tell me you love me” has four-thirds as many comments as its nearest competitor.

4) Your personal fav:

“cannot break us, not with a thousand swords”, no question about it. this is the one in which Ladybug proposes marriage to Chat Noir via Princess Bride meme on Tumblr. (if you intend to download the work or otherwise to consume it with creator style off, you want the accessible version instead of the primary version.)

5) Your fav scene:

aaaaaaaaa

—okay so this is cheating and I know it, since Uncertain Humors (the one where Marinette/Adrien is both Orpheus/Eurydice and Theseus/Ariadne) is nowhere near finished, never mind posted (maybe I'll get “Sanguine” done to post on my birthday?)

but it is still my favorite of the year. as you might guess from that description of the story, this scene has content notes for character death:

Hell is a maze. Marinette walks.

This acrid passage has little to see but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. At about the height of her heart, the faintly glowing thread cuts through the not-clammy air; it ought to be pulsing at the same rate as the heart it's bound to. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes through, dampening the canvas of her shoes. She might see reflected what's behind her.

She remembers Mme. Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Some Parisians have had several such moments.

The thread is braided with itself around her left fourth finger, rows of tiny red half-hitch knots, and falls loosely over the back of her hand to loop twice around her wrist. She holds it wrapped between the fingers of her right hand to keep it at a constant tension, as though knitting with this insubstantial thread, so fragile for something two (two dozen, two million) lives hang from—too thin to sew with, no thicker than one strand of his hair. As she walks, she winds it around and around and around her wrist.

Between her ring finger and her right hand, it loops twice.

Marinette's shoe lands in a puddle she didn't see. The rainwater splashes soundlessly onto her bare ankle and on the stone.

(With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal— It's a very loud song.)

She walks on.

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

where the firelight fades, no contest. this is the second story I’ve ever been able to stick with more than a couple hundred words past the 20K mark, but it’s easily the twentieth novel-length I’ve begun. (though also, you know that kedreeva post? well, 90K later, I’m less than 15K from completing this 10K fic! I think.) and I have been learning so much about long-form fiction.

there has also been a lot of weeping and tearing my hair. case in point: I just trashed the chapter 15 draft because I figured out the reason it wasn’t going anywhere! I can probably keep the first few hundred words of that draft without any editing, and another few hundred with some revision...

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

from “j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”:

Everything about their partnership is fragments of sentences in the dream diary Adrien writes in ultraviolet pen. Disjointed flickers of thought even when examined under the black light he hides in the snack cabinet under packets of Super Yoyo sandwich cookies and bags of cheesy Monster Munch potato chips and boxes of petit écolier butter cookies (chocolat noir)—none of which explains the gym-socks smell. All fleeting incoherent flashes, invisible between the mundane lines of La Modification shelved at his bedside between Leroux and Dumas. None of it is solid. Adrien has more proof his room's haunted.

okay let me break this down for you!

* Adrien started a dream diary to make sense of the memories

* in invisible ink, in a book that (according to Wikipedia) is thematically appropriate and won’t (if Gabriel sees it) look like anything other than Adrien developing an interest in French literature

* shelved between Phantom of the Opera and The Three Musketeers

* look I didn’t come up with the name “black light”

* or “chocolat noir” for what English speakers call “dark chocolate”, or “petit écolier” (that is, “little schoolboy”) for that sort of butter cookie

* also not my fault that “chocolat noir” sounds remarkably like “Chat Noir”, which, attentive readers may have noticed, is not a name that appears in the story after the header and before Miraculous Cure

* I found the website of a store in Boston, Massachusetts that caters to French expats, and the yo-yo cookies and the monster chips were right there in the photos, y’all

* the snack stash and the black light live in the cabinet where, in canon, the Camembert lives; yes, that cheese smells in the real world like gym socks

* this story’s akuma was not able to affect anything but squishy human memory: nobody affected remembers anything about Ladybug or Chat Noir or Hawkmoth, not in any solid way, not even when they read news articles about the subject, and this includes Marinette and Adrien not being able to see or hear or remember their own kwamis—but you know what Adrien’s Insta post about his poltergeist and Adrien’s Insta post with the floating sock don’t show and don’t explicitly refer to?

* I love this paragraph so much (my housemates may have been lovingly mocking me over it)

8) A comment that touched you:

there are people (y’all know who you are) who said y’all are studying my style. I ded of blush.

9) Something that inspired your writing:

by volume of fic drafts that can be blamed on any particular person, the winner is probably @norakwami​

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

so that longest-story-ever-written record I set in 2007 with the 89.5K story that, till where the firelight fades, was the only story I’d gotten much past 20K?

I broke that fucking record!

and then I deleted the draft of firelight chapter 15 😭

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I’m starting work on a fantasy novel, a Sleeping Beauty retelling in which I explore (among other things) the economic consequences of the king’s ordering all the spinning wheels burned, and I want to make significant progress on that. and I want to not make my hands any worse; I kind of need those!

(breaking news alert: bodies fucking suck. so does giving yourself repetitive stress injuries in doing one and a half to two people’s worth of work for an organization that was never ever going to pay you more than one person’s worth of pay.)

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ Chapter Nine.

I feel like I’ve been writing this chapter all day and yet it still seems like the shortest thing ever ffs. Ahoy, am here.

Honestly still not feeling great and super surprised I even wrote this today so, Enjoy.

If you want to be tagged let me know please, if tumblr won’t let me tag you I’ll message you <3

Warnings: the usual some Swearing and a conversation about past trauma but nothing too deep.

tags: @i-am-sarah​​ , @whothefuckstolemykeds​​ , @drowsyrrog​​ , @culturefiendtrashqueen​​ , @rogue-barnes-16--main-account​–main-account​ , @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome​​ , @valerie-weasley​​ , @sueeatstheworld​​ , @bleona2808​​ , @pippin248​​ , @myfatbottomedgirls​​ , @httpfandxms​​ , @cooliosmosh​​ , @speckles-s​​ , @walking-disgrace​​ , @itsmeaudrieee​​ , @fight-the-freaking-fairies​​ , @irrelevant-pumpkin​​ , @captain-sparkles-who​​ , @podcasts-8-my-heart​​ , @foulvintagenature​​ , @imjustboredso​ , @loophoria​

Gif credit mrbenhardys ______________________________________________________________

A shot rang out.

I knew it was coming, yet I still flinched.

The man who had been punching Four repeatedly, fell to the ground like a bag of bricks. Meanwhile Four had managed to haul himself up and perched on the orange platform.

I sank to the floor in relief. “Seven, you are a saint.” I whispered to the man who now stood beside me.

He reached out his hand for me to grab onto. Pulling me up we both sighed.

“Get in the car.” I just stared at One my anger about to boil over. “Zero, please. Get back in the car!”

Was he honestly mad at me right now? I’d never wanted to punch someone so much in my entire life.

I knew though as bad as I wanted to hug Four when he finally joined us, too much had happened tonight and we had to get out of here as fast as we could. So I stormed towards the Mini where Five stood holding the door. She gave me a quick side hug and kissed my forehead.

I ducked inside, sitting on the far right side.

I held the head rest a bit too tight with one hand, the pain of my nails digging into the fabric distracted me from the previous events.

About Three minutes passed before everyone else started to pile back in. Three lifted me up slightly so I was sitting on his lap.  Seven occupied the middle, Four and Five were to his left. 

I couldn’t look, I wanted to glance at Four to see what condition he was in but I knew if I did and saw him so broken I would burst into tears.

I felt him burning holes into the side of my head but all I could do was stare out of the from windshield, trying hard to control my breathing.

Once we arrived back at the hotel I made a fast exit, One reached out to speak to me but I just forcefully pushed him aside.

“HEY! Zero you get back here right now.” He shouted after me.

I swung around angrily. “Why should I? Give me one good reason. Why I should talk to someone who’s going to stand there and watch someone we all care deeply about die! and don’t stand there and give me a bullshit lecture about ‘it’s what you signed up for, you knew the rules’.” I mocked One. 

Everyone just stood there shocked at my outburst.

“Zero, keep your dam voice down.” One snapped back.

I felt a shooting pain in my side that travelled all the way up my side to my neck, my knees buckled as I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. then the blackness took over.

I woke up to the sound of running water, when I finally got my bearings I realised that it was the shower.

Wait who the hell is in my room and using my shower?!  I swear if its One am kicking his butt out of here clothed or not.

I turned on my side deciding not to care and get a bit more sleep. When I noticed the skateboard resting against the wall.

I shut my eyes again, only to tear them back open. A skate board?! this is Fours room.

“Ah you’re awake.” I turned around so fast the shooting pain in my side came back.

I laid down on my back, the back of my head hitting the pillow hard. A grunt of pain leaving my lips.

“Hey, hey careful. Not too fast.” Four shot forward, helping me settle more comfortably.

“What happened? I don’t remember anything after I shouted at One.” I kept my eyes closed trying to focus on making the intense pain go away.

“You collapsed. You also lied to me.” My eyes shot open.

A mistake, a very big mistake. There sat Four on the other side of the bed with only a towel around his waist. 

When I finally realised that I was gaping at him I just clicked my tongue, darting my eyes away.

“What did I lie about?” I asked surprised. 

“When I saw the blood you said it was just a scratch.” 

I looked at him now. “It is just a scratch.” I said confused.

“It was a stab wound Zero, You also lost a lot of blood. Hence why you collapsed.” He looked at me concerned.

“That would explain the intense pain then.” I was not going to cry in front of him so I bit back the tears.

“I assume Five fixed me up?” I smiled as best as I could at him.

“She did indeed, she fixed me up too.” He beamed.

It was weird seeing him smile after he endured so much.

“Are you okay?” I asked seriously.

“Am fine, seriously Zero don’t worry about it.” He touched my hand then began to get up.

Just before he was out of reach I grabbed his hand lightly. “Seriously, if you ever want to talk it out. Don’t be afraid to come to me. 

He just looked at me with the softest expression and peered down to where our hands connected in mid air. 

“Ah and Four would you put a shirt on its-”

“What, Zero am I distracting you?” He started to suddenly lean forward with that stupid smirk on his face.

I just scoffed. “No, I was going to say it’s cold. You also just got the shit beaten out of you so getting sick won’t help anyone.” 

He just leaned forward even more, till our faces were inches away. “Don’t lie to yourself Sweetheart. Soon enough you’re going to give into that temptation that you’ve been resisting.”

“And what might this non-existent temptation be.” 

He moved in even closer. “I know you’ve wanted to kiss me, ever since we had our first little encounter at the bar.” 

My eyebrows shot up. “Is that so, how do you know that. Are you some sort of mind reader.”  

“I can tell by the way you are always looking at me sweetheart. You want me bad.” 

Just as I felt his lips touch mine the door swung open with a loud bang. We parted immediately. Four stood and went about getting clothes so he could dress in the bathroom.

One appeared from around the corner. “Get out. I don’t want to speak to you.

“Come on Zero don’t be like this.” He leaned against the wall eyeing Four suspiciously. “Why are you only in a towel?”

“I came out after my shower to check on her while I retrieve my clothes, I didn’t think she’d be awake.” Four said reaching for the bathroom door again.

“Fine, get dressed then get out.” One turned to me. “We need to talk.”

“No we don’t, I don’t want to talk to you. Not yet at least and you can’t just kick Four out of his own room.” I tried to sound as upset as I could so he’d get the message through his thick skull.

“Then when are we suppose to talk?” He said getting angrier. 

“Back at base, when am well enough to throw a decent punch at you.” I snarled. 

“Aren’t you being to dramatic Zero?” He pushed off the wall.

“Just leave please, am too exhausted to fight with you right now.” Just then Four reappeared out of the bathroom.

“I’ll leave now shall I.” He went to walk past One. 

“No need. One was just about to leave. weren’t you One.” I was passed caring at this point.

He was mad. He just made the ‘watching you’ signal to Four and left. But not before he made a scene of banging the door closed after him.

“Asshole.” 

“I’d be careful what you say if I was you.” Four laughed as he placed the wet towel over the heater.

“I don’t care, someone needs to speak up and am glad Seven started it.” I tried to sit up against the headboard as carefully as I could.

Four strolled over to help me, I gave him my sweetest smile. “It was brave of him to stand up for me like that. I don’t know how am ever going to repay him for saving my life.” I patted the bed beside me.

He laid gently on top of the bed, resting against the headboard. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. He knows you’d do the same in a heartbeat.” I glanced at him to give him a smile to find he was already staring at me. 

“Seriously though, you’ve been through a lot tonight. I know you can handle yourself but-”

“Are you worried about me.” He said smugly leaning down a bit to catch my eye.

“If you must know I am, but if you keep acting like a smug ass bitch I’ll stop sticking up for you.” I tutted.

He just laughed sitting straight again. “You know what’s weird but strangely comfortable.”  

“What’s that?” I questioned. 

“Bickering with you in person, I mean teasing you through coms was always the highlight of my day. but pissing you off in person is just extra fun.” 

I turned to him with fake shock. “Gee thanks! “ We both just laughed together. “Seriously though, the teasing is fun. But I want you to know that you can come to me for anything. I won’t judge.” 

“Thank you.” He whispered softly.

He coughed. “ I know were not supposed to talk about it, but seen as we’ve just had our little heart to heart. Tell me how One found you?”

I just gaped dramatically, smacking my hand against my chest. “That my friend is forbidden information.” 

He was silent for a while. When I turned to look at him, he was giving me the biggest puppy eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine I’ll tell you if you stop pulling that ugly face.” 

Now was his turn to Gasp.

“I use to live in London, both of my parents died in a car crash. My only Aunt and Uncle wanted nothing to do with me so I was put in the system. After a certain age they try set you up to live on your own when really they don’t care. I moved from place to place, did odd jobs for people. I learnt the only way to survive on your own was to trust no one and being sly was you’re best bet.” 

“I’d always found tech fascinating, then I met Tim. He was a hacker, he’s the guy that taught me all I know. He frequented a Cafe I worked at on Saturdays, I’d always serve him his coffee and we’d chat and he’d show me some techniques. One day he met me outside the cafe, said he needed to ask me an important question. He had a big hacking job lined up and couldn’t do it alone. I trained for months he even said I’d become more skilled than him, The day of the job came fast but it was doomed from the start. To save himself he set me up and my location was given away, before I could even register what was happening about 5 men burst into the room and put a bag over my head.”

“I can’t believe he just set you up like that, god if I ever meet him I’ll kill him.”

I just smiled at his protectiveness. “You’ll have to get in line. Anyway when they took the bag off I was in some kind of warehouse.  They wanted information for who I worked for, I obviously told them about Tim but I’d never questioned Tim about who this job was for. I was just happy to have someone to spend time with, to feel needed by someone. So the information that they wanted I didn’t have. But as in any case like this they didn’t believe me, the fifth day I was there I was becoming weaker. Getting beat everyday will do that.” He winced at this point and reached for my hand.

“But then One walked in, I still don’t know why he was there or how he got me out but he did. How ever pissed he makes me, I can never be too angry at him. He saved my life, I owe him a lot.” 

“I agree though he’s a pain in the ass, but am glad you’re safe now.” he brought our hands up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.

“He also brought me you guys, going from no family and no one to trust. To an amazing group of people I know I can trust my life with. I can’t be too mad at him, well until he tries to kill you.” 

He sighed and I turned to look him in the eye. “That wasn’t fair of him. To just leave you like that. Am sorry.” 

“You shouldn’t be sorry, If it wasn’t for you and Seven I wouldn’t be sat here with you now.” He reached out and brushed away the stray tear that I didn’t know escaped.

“Am sorry you had to go through so much, I’ll make sure to be extra caring and less teasing from now on.” He smiled.

“Eh.” I shrugged. “I like the teasing.” I smirked.

He smirked back.” I see how it is sweetheart.”

“So monkey boy.” He rolled his eyes at my favourite nickname for him. “I’ve spilled the beans, now I want to hear your sob story.”

“Okay.” He turned in my direction a little bit more and started playing with my fingers. “Well I actually used my parkour skills to steal valuables from very rich people.”

I tutted disgracefully.

“Hey Princess, I wasn't the only one breaking the law apparently.” The butterflies went crazy, ‘Princess’ that was a new one. 

I tried to play it off that I wasn't effected by the nickname. 

“We got into this place but I couldn’t find the precious necklace I knew was hid in there. I manged to find it but just as I did the police burst through the door. Most of my gang was either shot or arrested, the few of us who escaped climbed the buildings until we made it to a fallen metal sign. I somehow slipped and was swinging back and forth, My girlfriend at the time who was part of the gang managed to get a hold of the necklace that I was carrying in my mouth.Turns out she was a traitor, she let me fall just to keep the necklace for herself. I fell pretty far and blacked out.” 

My eyes shot up when he said girlfriend. “Seems I also have someone from your past to kill if I ever meet them.”

“You’ll have to get in line sweetheart.” He smirked and I just smiled at him.

“When I woke up One had strapped me to an old hospital bed, and rigged a gun that was pointed at my head. He kept telling me that I was going to die, I was scared but I was so worked up I just told him to kill me. He moved the weight but the whole thing fell apart, I was relived but obviously very pissed.” 

I just nodded and laughed. “I guess we were all a little stupid to follow One blindly.” 

“I guess so, but the team he built is well worth it.” 

We just smiled at each other, a sense of calm settled over both of us.

“I guess we’ve both been through a lot.” He said quietly reaching out to brush my cheek. 

“Today especially, I think we should sleep.” He was so close now, just like before.

I could feel myself falling again.

He closed the gap and just as lips were about to touch he grabbed my head in both hands and kissed my forehead. 

I gasped in shock as he let go and turned out the light.

“YAH! YOU LITTLE TEASE.” I poked his firm chest.

“Shut up and turn around.” 

“WHAT?!” I squealed as he grabbed me by my waist and snuggled into my neck.  

“Ouch! am wounded you know.” 

“Well you should have been a good girl and did as I said in the first place.” He whispered in my ear.

Was he actually being serious right now?  luckily for him loosing so much blood seemed to knock me out straight away, or was it his warm arms that were engulfing me and his warm comforting puffs of breath on my neck?   

Chapter Ten

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

I will not tag BLM posts as nonsims/non sims, and here is why:

I do understand to the fullest that many people come here, to our Tumblr/Simblr community to escape from reality, and have a time off from whatever we are facing in our individual lives. I do too. This is the very reason why I made my very first Tumblr blog, and the very reason why I made multiple after that. It’s my escape too. And the people who has followed me through the years, very well know, it’s rare I post anything “political” of any sort. I also very well understand that there are many people around here with mental health related issues, such as anxiety, depression, PTSD, trauma and many more. I fully understand the impact these protests, deaths, murders, violence, police brutality, lockdowns and anything else going on in the world, have on people with mental health issues. I’m right there with you. I personally suffer from anxiety, depression, OCD, PTSD/trauma’s. For almost 2 decades I haven’t watched the news. I discovered how much it was affecting my anxiety and cut it out of my life. With social media growing, it became harder to escape. It’s hard/triggering for me too. I usually reblog the most important on my Facebook and try my best to scroll past anything else, while keeping my Tumblr as free from it as possible, only sharing the absolute most necessary stuff, not even once a month. I usually tag non sims related posts properly, yes it slips here and there, I never claimed to be perfect, quite the opposite.

However;

As much as I understand and relate, this is not a time to stay silent. The protests are helping, a man who was going to get away with max a 3rd degree murder, is now up for 2nd degree murder. Others are being charged/held responsible now as well. But there’s still so many people who needs to be held responsible, and it’s still continuing as we sit here in our little Simblr world, trying our best to pretend it isn’t happening. And this is why it’s happening. This is why it keeps happening. Our privilege to escape the insanity, while others never get to escape. Black people never get to escape. So why do we get to constantly stay in our comfort zone, turning our back to anything that makes us remotely uncomfortable?! And this is why I refuse to tag BLM posts as non sims. I refuse to silence voices of people being oppressed, violated and murdered, for the sake of your comfortableness. 95% of the BLM posts I have shared the past days, have been reblogged by my followers, providing the posts more reach. Many of my followers has the nonsims/non sims tags blocked. This means people who blocks these tags, wont see the much needed BLM posts on their dash. Which results in less reach for these posts. Could I make a new blog and reblog the posts there instead? I could, but I would have no followers, so once again, the posts would have no reach, for the sake of your comfort. Could I post them on my other social medias instead? Yes, I could, and I do. However, on my Facebook, although I have followers, none of my posts has been reblogged, so I can’t help with reach there. On my Twitter, I have 7 followers, which means no reach there either. I do keep the BLM reblogs at a minimum on this blog, I haven’t reblogged anything showing violence, and I wont, that’s the best I can and will do for your comfort. Meanwhile my Twitter, although it has no reach, is glowing red, and most of the reblogs are full of police brutality, while I on this blog have only shared the ‘peaceful’ posts. As much as I understand people’s need to escape, and I even share the same need. As much as I understand mental health, and also need to protect my own. I will not silence people living every day in fear to a point where they don’t dare to stick their hands in their pockets in public, wear a hoodie in public, go to a store to buy Skittles, pay for their purchase at a quiet corner store, sit at home on their couch or dare to look at a white person for more than 3 seconds! I will not silence these people for the sake of your comfort! Cause that’s the very reason why things never change! That’s the very reason for racism still being alive and thriving! That’s the very reason for innocent black lives being taken every day, as if they were flies on a hot summers day! That is the very reason for the by now extremely public police violence roaming the streets! That is the very reason for Donald Trump’s army of destruction!

I will not silence these people for your comfort!

While I am just as uncomfortable and triggered as you are, -as a writer, it’s hard when my words fail and I stumble, so I apologize if I say something wrong or out of tune or if my words fail, but I’m trying my very best, I will keep fighting with what I have, and that’s the freedom to reblog and sign petitions. I will keep reblogging posts with useful information, as long as my own mental health allows me to participate. After that, my blog will return to be the usual refuge I need in my own life, and you can all be comfortable with me again. If you are uncomfortable with me trying to lend a hand to people that desperately need to be heard, kindly unfollow, and don’t return. Enjoy your privilege and right to be comfortable, while others never had that privilege and right.  Please, spare a few minutes from your comfort zone, to sign these petitions, I know many of us may not have any money to spare, but these are completely free, only requires you to fill in name and email. It can’t be more convenient to lend a helping hand. It only takes a few seconds for your vote to count. Breonna Taylor: https://www.change.org/p/andy-beshear-justice-for-breonna-taylor Joāo Pedro: https://www.change.org/p/prefeitura-do-rio-de-janeiro-justice-for-jo%C4%81o-pedro?recruiter=false&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_message&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial&recruited_by_id=1daf3eb0-a675-11ea-bc30-8f70846579cc&share_bandit_exp=message-22456027-en-US&share_bandit_var=v3 George Floyd: https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd?recruiter=false&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&recruited_by_id=c0d85430-a5c3-11ea-a283-f7f1ba5cd143&utm_content=mit-22414602-10%3Av1 There are many more petitions like this, if you want to sign more, please have a look at this link: https://www.change.org/t/black-lives-matter-en-us Alternative to donating money: You can (for free) let this video run on replay either with sound or on mute (turn off your addblock, if you are uncomfortable with that while being online, consider doing it while you shower/cook/sleep and aren’t actively using your browsers): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCgLa25fDHM&feature=emb_title

[sailor-cresselia]

Zi-O 48-1: In which I surrender and watch the raw.

So, it’s been a few days, and I know that the subbers have their own lives and whatnot, but… I can’t safely go on tumblr until I see this, because I follow a lot of Rider blogs, and have the Zi-O tag tracked, and i’ve got friends talking about this…

So I’m caving and watching 48 without subs. It’s been a long while since I’ve had to do this!

Enjoy eleven and a half pages of me being a nerd over a children’s tv show, that I can’t even properly understand.

(EDIT: SHIT SORRY I THOUGHT I”D PUT THE READ MORE IN THERE)

–––– ––––

Actually, first, I watched 47 again, to refresh myself, and noticed something. Not only did Tsukasa do the hand pose from the Zi-O promotional material when he transformed, but so did Daiki as Another Zi-O II.

The main difference is that Daiki used his pointer and middle finger – because he’s the second form.

It’s the little touches.

––––

We pick up exactly where we left off last time – with Tsukuyomi, Sougo, Daiki, and Decade finding htemselves surrounded by mooks and monsters from heisei riders past. Mirror monsters, makamou, masquerade dopants, yummys, dustards, ghouls, inves… so Ryuki, Hibiki, Double, OOO, Fourze, Wizard, and Gaim are gone. The meteors, and skywall say that Kabuto and Build are, too. Adding in the roidmudes we saw with Chase, that makes ten out of eighteen watches broken. I say eighteen because we’ve obviously still got Zi-O, and Decade is literally right there, having reclaimed his watch.

We get Tsukasa repeating – or, rahter, we re-see Tsukasa saying that he’s going to destroy the world… Not right at this moment, though. They should get going.

It looks like Daiki takes off in a different direction from the other three.

––––

Amid the scenes of people running, there’s a ganma mook… and Revol, along with people colappsing, static crackling across their bodies. That’s the Ghost and Ex-Aid watches done for, then.

––––

Geiz and Woz run along a rooftop, but immediately become a book image – we’re going pretty much right into the recap. Now, of course, I don’t speak Japanese, but I can get the gist of what he’s saying. Basically, there’s copious fighting, the time-space continuum is falling apart, and the world is ending because of Swartz.

There are two pages left.

Woz is looking off into the middle distance as he says this.

––––

… I don’t think I really expected that they’d update the OP again, this late in the game, but…

That doesn’t change that it kind of hurts to see Heure and Ora still be there.

––––

At 9-to-5, Tsukasa is being interrogated- I mean, is getting everyone onto the same page.

Ehh… let’s see… Basically, he’s saying that more and more of the other Riders are being… I don’t know, more completely erased? Like, the watches held their stories in stasis, like bookmarks, and now that they’re breaking, parts of those stories are escaping out.

Tsukuyomi mentions the wall and the tower – namely, Fuuto Tower, as opposed to Yggdrasil, which kind of bothers me. See, even if this weren’t all one Rider world, Fuuto Tower would have no reason to not exist. It’s just part of the city. Yggdrasil, on the other hand, was built explicitly to deal with the encroaching Helheim Forest and you know what it’s not that big a deal, because the multipleworlds thing bugs me even more than that.

…Although, since they’re apparently sticking with the outdated “every rider is his own world” method, which has basically never been true, with the exception of Decades ARs, I suppose it could make sense to have both towers appear. Fuuto and Zawame are different cities, and most Rider seasons are set in Tokyo. That would account for the Skywall, as well – it’s from a different world. That’s the best way to show ‘things aren’t where they should be’ - to have landmarks from parallel worlds and different cities all appearing in the same place.

Tsukasa explains that Swartz has been using Sougo for his plans since he (Sougo) was a young boy. He pulled him to that ruined future, and gave him the time powers there. Then he set him on the road to gathering the powers of all the Kamen Riders – thus consolidating them into one complete form. Namely, Grand Zi-O.

…Okay, the multiverse thing still doesn’t pan out, here. If they were all in different worlds, then Sougo couldn’t have met them! They specifically said once, during Shinobi, that the Time Mazines can’t go to different timelines – which would presumably include different realities along with it. So, the people that Sougo met couldn’t have been riders anyway, regardless of his interference.

…Wait. Unless Swartz is actually pulling the assorted AR worlds together – by removing the ‘original’ or ‘main’ versions of the Riders, he removes the potential for there to be alternate versions of them. So the Shinji who worked at Atashi Journal, the Wataru who was a small child, high schooler Takumi, and so on… none of them can exist, because the Shinji from Ore Journal, the Wataru who was an adult, dry-cleaner Takumi, and so on were never riders.

I mean, I don’t know if that’s where they’re actually going with this, but it’s a good theory, right?

I can still try to make sense of this, right?!

ANYWAY.

Sougo’s despairing over the fact that all of his fights have been playing right into Swartz’s hand, and I think that Woz is trying to reassure him? I’m not sure – I can’t make out any of what he’s saying there.

Geiz asks what they can do now.

“I already told you. I’m going to destroy the world.” Tsukasa sets down the mug he’s been holding this entire time. “This world is already lost. However… there might still be a way to save it.” He looks pointedly at Sougo.

Sougo pauses, and says that he understands, bringing up the ‘choice’ that Swartz told him about.

“Tsukuyomi’s path, Sougo’s path, or the path to Oma Zi-O.”

…Ah, man, I can’t tell what they’re saying now. I’m not sure what Sougo’s implying that he’s planning, but Tsukasa seems at least somewhat satisfied. The fate of the world counts on this.

––––

There’s a breif shot of the watch stand. It’s empty.

––––

Sougo stands in front of the wall of clocks, looking at them. It’s eerily similar to a shot in the opening… hang on.

Okay, no, he’s in a different outfit. In the opening, when Sougo reaches towards the wall of clocks and spins it backwards, he’s in a mint green shirt and tan pants. Here, he’s in dark green with white-and-black pants. But also? He’s just a little bit taller.

In the opening, he’s dwarfed by the wall, with the counters and everything else seeming to be so much larger than they really are. He’s not the one who’s really in control. The situation is so much bigger than he is.

But now? He fits perfectly. He’s coming into his own, both as a rider and as a person. He’s not holding the image of an idea that is so much more than he is anymore.

Sougo smiles as he looks at the assortment of clocks, saying that it’s time to head out. The acoustic guitar version of Over Quartzer starts to play.

Tsukasa – the only other person present – tells him to wait. There’s… he says something about either how there’s a lot of people involved, or there’s a lot of people counting on this, or that are at risk. Maybe he should be the one to carry out this plan-

Sougo cuts him off. It has to be him. He tells Tsukasa to listen. He’s been ready for this since he put on the belt. Or… maybe… he’s always been destined for this moment.

Tsukasa looks… I don’t know what that is. Surprised? A dull form of surprise or shock, that he wasn’t sure if this young man would actually be willing to pull this off?

Sougo does seem to have one small regret though, in that he doesn’t get to tell his uncle. He picks up a note off the counter.

…Junichiro has terrible handwriting. Holy shit. Like, that’s damn near illegible – I’m lucky that it’s just enough that I can tell he signed it, via using the Rider Wiki having his name. Given the preview from the last episode, I’m assuming he went out to the store? Maybe?

––––

In a plaza, Tsukuyomi is attempting to help people escape the assorted mooks, shooting with her Faiz Phone X and instructing them to run. Woz, meanwhile, is sitting and watching, like an absolute tool. She’s pissed at him, and basically yells that he can help out any time now, thanks!

“Okay, okay, fine…” He gives the single most put upon sigh as he transforms into Ginga Finaly.

––––

Geiz is in a construction area, beating mooks off of people with a literal pipe, until Swartz shows up, apparently taunting him.

Cue Revive Fury versus Another Decade.

––––

Junichiro is screaming as he’s being approached by two Waste Yummys and the Bison Yummy.

Oh, judging by the box with the shops logo, he wasn’t out shopping, he was making a delivery.

“LOOK OUT!”

Zi-O blocks the Yummy, shoving them away from his uncle – notably without saying anything else to Junichiro.

Why is that notable?

Because Junichiro’s next line is “…Eh? Sougo-kun?”

Me, crossing my fingers as Zi-O prepares a finisher: please have known all along please have known all along or at least have caught on at some point please

Zi-O, having finished the monsters off with a Time Break – don’t think I didn’t see those little circles flying off of them as they exploded, Toei, I saw those cell medals there – storms up to his uncle. “Uncle, are you an idiot? Why did you go out at a time like this!?”

“Sougo- that was- just now-”

Zi-O drops his transformation… and Tokiwa Sougo bows low to his uncle, apologizing.

“Uncle… I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you… the truth is, I’m a Kamen Rider.” As he straightens back up, the piano version of Toki no Ouja starts to play. Junichiro is speechless as Sougo continues. “It’s a power that I’ve been using to fight, in order to protect everyone.”

Junichiro doesn’t seem to know what to say, just asking if this is how he’s being a king.

Sougo… supposes that’s true. But he has to go, so that he can save everyone. He just wanted to tell his uncle first.

Junichiros response? “I can’t do much, I just fix clocks. But you… You’ve got such a responisibility. Go. Have a safe trip.”

I don’t think Sougo expected him to react this well, he probably expected that his uncle would try to stop him, or protest in some way, at least. But really, clearly Sougo hasn’t been paying attention. Junichiro barely batted an eye at the Imajin asking him to fix the Denliner. This isn’t much of a stretch at all.

“I’m headed out.”

Junichiro kind of looks like he’s about to cry as Sougo runs off – tears of worry and of pride.

Sougo runs down the partly ruined street, as his Time Mazine zooms down in the ship mode.

––––

Sougo is in the cockpit of the Time Mazine, which is barely lit by dark blue light.

“One last trip through time…”

He looks at the display, set for 2068.

“Time-space system, activate!”

Time Mazine!

The machine zooms through the time tunnel, off into the future.

––––

Geiz, in a very ruined stairwell, fights a whole slew of mooks as Another Decade watches. He gets knocked down a few flights, and can’t get back up due to all the mooks who are basically on top of him.

Right up until Decade shows up to knock them away.

I can’t tell what they’re saying, but Geiz sounds really surprised that Decade’s still here.

They start fighting their way back upstairs together.

––––

Woz and Tsukuyomi are fighting against another set of mooks, in the same plaza they were in earlier.

Eventually, Woz calls down a bunch of mini planets to destroy the mooks and a Violence Dopant, because of course Ginga can do that. This might as well happen.

A bat-type Roidmude appears, advancing on Tsukuyomi – before Mashin Chaser flys in from nowhere, tackling it down, and quickly dispatching it with the Spider Viral Core’s Tune attack.

He then immediately falls to his knees, clutching at his head, before dropping his transformation. His hand shakes as he wonders why he just saved a human.

Woz, being far too flippant for my robo-lad’s current existential crisis, hops down from the steps. “It’s quite simple, Chase. According to this book, in the original timeline, you, too, were a Kamen Rider.”

“I’m… a Kamen Rider?” Chase looks at his shaking hands, and we get another flashback. (Toei no don’t break my heart like this…)

––––

Chase, in a warehouse, water pouring from a broken pipe. He holds up a shift bike, determined.

Kamen Rider Chaser stands under the pouring water after his first transformation.

––––

Chase roars in denial, slamming his Break Gunner to activate it.

Break up!

Mashin Chaser yells. He’s a GRIM REAPER, damn you!

(Toei, NO! Don’t break my heart like this!)

He brutally starts attacking Woz.

––––

2068, in front of the statue commemorating the first transformation of Tokiwa Sougo.

…Oh, now that’s interesting. The other times we’ve seen this particular statue, the riders weren’t posting at all – they were just standing, looking somewhat down. Right now, though?

Each and every one of them is doing their post-transformation pose.

Interesting.

So’s Sougo’s comment, which I think is ‘The most important person in the world…’

Sougo’s arrived at a point where there’s a smaller fight between the resistance and Oma Zi-O. It’s not that final stand we saw in the first episode, with the copious time mazines – the battlefield isn’t nearly large enough to be that one. But Geiz and Tsukuyomi are both there, both shooting at Oma Zi-O; her with the Faiz Phone X, and him with a machine gun.

People are being injured/killed left and right. Sougo goes to Tsukuyomi, who’s just been knocked down, asking if she’s alright.

He slips a blank ridewatch into her pocket.

I’m not sure what Geiz is yelling at them, but I’m pretty sure it’s something about ‘if you’re not going to fight, then get out of here!’

Tsukuyomi seems to feel the same, telling him to hurry up and run.

His expression stoic, Sougo tells them that they should hurry and get out. He’ll take care of this.

He pulls out his Ziku Driver, and the Zi-O Ridewatch as Tsukuyomi, Geiz, and the handful of resistance members look on.

“HENSHIN!”

As Kamen Rider Zi-O strides forward to face off against his future self, Geiz and Tsukuyomi are stunned. They know that armor and transformation, even though they’ve not yet met him properly in person.

––––

Oma Zi-O and Kamen Rider Zi-O stand across from each other, in that same valley where they’ve fought twice before. Or, where Sougo’s fought him before, and Oma may or may not have been on the current side yet. Time travel, yanno.

Oma says… er, basically that his younger self has no hope of defeating him.

Sougo… he says that that may be true. That this may really be his future.

Even so… he still has to try.

He pulls out his gun – his gun, not his sword – and fires, charging at Oma.

I’ve said before that Sougo almost never uses the gun form, and it’s true. All of his upgrades exclusively gave him a sword. The gun is only ever used for strategic purposes – Sougo doesn’t usually fight at a distance, he’s much more of a close range combatant. This only serves to make the fact that he pulls it out as the gun form all the more unusual.

Each shot is blocked by little mini forcefields that Oma raises for each individual blast, before Sougo is finally close enough to switch into the sword. Each strike is blocked, before Oma shoves him backward with waves of orange and black energy.

Sougo – still in base form Zi-O – lands, and as he pushes himself up…

“Let’s go.”

He pulls out the Trinity watch.

––––

2019

Geiz Revive Fury and Decade versus mooks and Another Decade.

They’ve made it back out into the open, and quickly dispatch the assorted mooks, leaving the two riders and the single villain.

Swartz… ugh, I can’t make it out, but I think he’s saying something about how they can’t stop him, the world’s already finsihed.

Both Geiz and Tsukasa say that’s not true. There’s something about Tsukuyomi in there – either they’re saying that it’s not Swartz’s world to take, it’s hers… or that they’re choosing her. They’re not choosing this world, they’re choosing Tsukuyomi’s.

Or they’re saying nothing of the sort, because I just can’t pick out enough words that I recognize to be sure at all.

Regardless, Swartz screams in rage, and starts wailing on the both of them, before knocking them both down. Aiming for Geiz, he charges his copy of Tsukasa’s rider kick – card images and all. They’re eerily accurate, too. They’ve got the exact Decade logo on them, but they’re black and dark purple, instead of the lighter magenta that Tsukasa would have.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. As Another Decade passes through the last card-

A yellow beam of light shoots from the sky, and warps Geiz away.

––––

Tune! Chaser Cobra!

It doesn’t matter, anyway. As Mashin Chaser’s whip attack reaches Woz’s location-

A green beam of light shoots from the sky, and warps Woz away.

Growling, he turns to Tsukuyomi.

––––

Trinity time!

Sougo, in the Trinity Cockpit, smiles a little as Geiz and Woz appear. “Oh, good, it worked.”

I don’t think they were sure it would.

Woz, appearing as an overlay on his shoulder, says that they’ve made it to 2068.

Geiz, doing likewise, says something about Oma Zi-O.

Sougo, no overlay in sight, says that in any case, it’s time to fight.

Trinity charges at Oma Zi-O, wielding Zi-O II’s sword.

––––

2019

Kamen Rider Decade dusts off his hands as he stands up. Time for Decade Versus Decade.

Swartz almost laughs at that. You think he’s only got Decade’s powers?

He freezes Tsukasa in time. His own power is even stronger. As he advances on the frozen Tsukasa, he’s frozen, himself.

Kamen Rider Diend strolls up, one hand outstretched. “Oh, you mean the power you gave little ol’ me?”

Decade’s fight music starts to play as Daiki straight up whacks Another Decade with his gun, breaking both magenta men out of their paused states.

As they stand next to each other, Tsukasa has to be rolling his eyes under that helmet. “Took you long enough.”

“Let’s go, Tsukasa.”

Kamen Riders Decade and Diend – Kadoya Tsukasa and Kaitou Daiki – attack Another Decade in unison.

––––

2068

KING GIRI GIRI SLASH!

Trinity slams his slash attack down on Oma, but said overlord just pushes the energy to the side. They rush him, bringing the sword itself down on him, and when he blocks it with his crossed arms, a ring of dustclouds explode around the combatants.

Trinity forces the sword down, before abruptly yanking if off of where he’d been pressing it against Oma, using the loss of that resistance to throw Oma Zi-O off balance, and pointing the tip of the sword at his torso. Under the helmet, Sougo at minimum is grinning.

Trinity Time Break-Burst-Explosion!

A beam of attack power pushes out from the sword, blasting Oma Zi-O back into the cliffside, where he leaves a massive impact crater before falling to the ground.

He asks where his younger self found this sort of power.

Sougo’s answer? It’s not his power. It’s his friends power.

In the cockpit, we see the three standing side by side, their sections of the faceplate behind them, but they aren’t in a circle around the clock, or in divided screens. They’re all on one visual plane.

According to Sougo, and my very limited understanding of what’s being said, because I don’t recognize most of this… there’s more than one path to take. He’s not taking the one that leads to Oma Zi-O. He’s taking the one that he’ll make with his friends.

Oma Zi-O seems to find that interesting, and says that Sougo’s… what, fighting for his friends sake?

And I’m not sure what just happened, but Geiz doesn’t know what Oma’s talking about either, and Woz tells Sougo to be careful…

Right before the Trinity transformation ends, leaving only Sougo standing in front of Oma Zi-O.

Just Sougo, without any armor.

He’s not even wearing his belt.

He also doesn’t look surprised, or concerned. Just angry.

––––

2019

Woz reappears right where he left from, in his civilian attire, and looking confused. Tsukuyomi is nowhere to be seen.

––––

Geiz appears right where he left from, in his civilian attire, and looking both confused and frustrated. Decade and Diend are still fighting Another Decade, and getting kicked around a fair bit, before Swartz scoffs, and says that Tsukuyomi is his to… uh, I think kill is the word here.

He dimension-walls himself out of there, and Geiz curses.

––––

2068

Tokiwa Sougo stands across the field from Oma Zi-O.

“Now what? You’ve sent your friends away, and what for?”

There’s no background music, just the sound of the wind.

Sougo stays calm. “That’s because I’m not here to fight you. But… I’m still going to defeat you.” He starts to walk forward. “Tell me, what is the power of Oma Zi-O?”

Oma Zi-O looks a bit to the side. “It’s the power to destroy space and time.” The orchestral version of Toki no Ouja starts playing. I can’t quite make out the next part of Oma’s answer, unfortunately. Something about Swartz’s granting him time powers, and his own powers over space, and those combining. I think.

Sougo responds that the two of them – himself and Oma – aren’t the same.

Oma… agrees. I think, and says that he looks forward to seeing the world Sougo will make, before sending him back in time.

A muscle twitched in Sougo’s otherwise expressionless face – the ghost of a smirk trying to make it’s way through.

Oma Zi-O looks up, a note of resignation in his voice. “That’s it, then.” He makes a small noise, almost like a laugh… and says something about… I think it’s that ‘this is what he can do to help.’

He raises one hand to the sky, firing motes of golden light out.

––––

As the other members of the resistance continue retreating, Geiz and Tsukuyomi stop. I’m not sure what they’re saying, but it’s something about how that guy was strange, that he must have had some sort of plan.

Motes of golden light pass over them, and a pink light comes from Tsukuyomi’s pocket, seeming to shock her physically to make sure she notices.

The ridewatch Sougo had slipped her glows white, but quickly fades… and it’s still blank.

… the one that kept making its way to Sougo in episode one stayed blank for a long time, too, right up until he showed the resolve to fight.

––––

2019

Tsukuyomi reaches a different plaza, still running from Mashin Chaser. She begs him to stop, she knows he has a human heart!

He just yells that he doesn’t have a heart, he’s a Roidmude- but he freezes up. He can’t move. It’s not the time powers in action – it’s that he’s seized up. Like one part of his programming is stopping him from moving, from lowering his arm and pressing the trigger. There’s a very deliberate shot of his hand holding the break gunner, finger raised.

Swartz – as Another Decade – comes up. “That’s enough. She’s mine… Finally, little sister…” He goes to attack her, but-

Chase stops him, rushing up and grabbing his arm, shoving him back. He may not be human, may not have a human heart, but. But the human heart is the most beautiful thing there is!

He goes on the offensive – against Swartz.

But Chase tends to get sloppy when he fights with his emotions running high. It’s simple enough for Swartz to redirect his straight charge with a pair of dimension walls, placing Chase behind him and charge-kicking the Roidmude in the back, sending him staggering. I can’t tell what Swartz says, but it’s definitely an insult to Chase – as a Kamen Rider.

Chase staggers backward, his transformation breaking. He starts to fall to the ground, but Geiz catches him…

(Toei… no…  don’t… don’t break my heart like this…)

Purple arcs of electricity cross Chase’s body as Geiz holds him.

“You… were right. I really am… a Kamen Rider…”

Geiz’s face is partly hidden in his collar. “You’re more than that – you’re a friend.”

Geiz – who only met Chase today, who probably only knew him as a hero from what Gou may or may not have said during Over Quartzer, and from his actions right now – is telling Chase that they’re friends.

“That’s… nice. That even now… I’ve made another human friend…”

(Toei. No. Don’t. Don’t break my heart like this.)

Chase glows a light purple, and dissolves into motes of purple light, leaving his core floating, before it, too, dissolves.

(I, a Drive fangirl, and particularly a Chase fangirl, am going to have to bury my face in a pillow when I’m done here.)

Geiz can’t talk. He’s too stunned by what just happened – he’s trying not to cry, I think.

Swartz advances on Tsukuyomi. Now that that little distraction’s over with, it’s time for her to die.

She backs up, terrified. Time feels like it slows down. Not, like, the type in this show where it actually does, just the muted, echoing effect of a single moment.

“TSUKUYOMI!” Sougo runs towards the scene. “THE WATCH!”

“Eh?”

“THE ONE I GAVE YOU!”

Confused, she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a blank ridewatch – that very shortly isn’t blank anymore.

It’s white, with a mask, and the year ‘2068’ written on it.

Woz comes in from the other side, still at a distance. “Go! Tsukuyomi!” He throws her something.

Tsukuyomi catches a Ziku Driver.

Sougo nods, certain. Geiz looks confused as all get out. Woz looks like he’s hoping this will actually work.

She puts on the belt, and raises the watch, turning it.

“Tsukuyomi!”

Techno standby music plays as she places the watch in the driver, and spins it.

“Henshin!”

A gorgeous transformation sequence later…

Clad in a black undersuit, with white armor and gold accents, with a cresent moon-shaped visor, and a gold-trimmed cape and side-skirt…

Kamen Rider Tsukuyomi makes her appearance.

––––

The closing screen is Geiz Revive at the bottom, Trinity at the top…

And Tsukuyomi in the center.

––––

The preview for the final episode… and it’s a battle theme playing, not Over Quartzer.

Grand Zi-O versus Another Decade.

A brief flash of Kamen Rider Tsukuyomi.

A splitscreen shot. Kamen Riders Grand Zi-O, Double CycloneJokerXtreme, Wizard Infinity Form, OOO Tajador, and Gaim Pineapple Arms are on the top.

On the bottom… okay, so, I have no idea who most of these villains are. There’s Gamedeus in the center, and Evolt to the far end, but the others? Not a clue.

Over top of that, and the two groups starting to fight, we hear Sougo practically growling, saying ‘I have the power of all the Riders.’

Flashes of Tsukuyomi and Woz, as themselves, looking concerned. At this point, they add in a subtitle disclaimer saying that Zi-O is fiction. (Thank you, Google translate for my phone, which allows me to hold it up to a screen and get an idea of what’s written.)

A quick shot of Oma Zi-O on his throne, his face obscured – and text implying that we’re going to get to see his face!

Someone – either Oma Zi-O or Swartz, because they sound really similar when Swartz is Another Decade – saying something about… I don’t know, that this is his battle? I think?

But that’s played over the previous two sequences, and a sequence of Sougo, openly weeping, holding a very injured Geiz, who’s going limp.

Then, Sougo standing, furious… and then him activating the belt that Oma Zi-O wears.

In a defeated voice, “I’ll become Oma Zi-O…” and then, in that same growl as earlier, “HENSHIN.”

The final shots are two angles of Oma Zi-O. In armor. And in the present day.

–––– ––––

(deep inhale)

(sharp exhale)

AAAAAAAAAAAAA!

[their-destinys-writer]

Infection

Based on the Infection!AU by @thebirdfromthemoon-art (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Ladynoir July Day 5 - Bell

First | <Previous | Next>

Event organized by @lovesquare-squad (tagging now because tumblr hates me)

Ao3

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir called from the rooftop.

The heroine in question was sitting on the sidewalk next to the lamppost, rubbing her nose. She heard metal hit the concrete and felt a hand land on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” her partner asked. “What was that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run into something like that.”

“I’m fine,” Ladybug huffed, but was immediately followed by a cough fit.

She covered her mouth, trying to subside it. Meanwhile, Chat Noir rubbed circles on her back, in an attempt to comfort her.

“Are you sick?” he asked. “If you’re sick, go home. I can take care of this.”

“’Mfine,” Ladybug struggled to say. “I just…choked on my saliva.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop it, I’m fine,” she insisted, standing up. “I just choked, no need to get…protective.”

As she said the last words, she noticed the hand she used to cover her mouth was now stained with the same black liquid she released back in Ms. Bustier’s classroom.

“What is it?” Chat Noir said next to her.

Before he could get a clear view of the substance, Ladybug closed her fist and pulled it close to her chest. She looked up to his face of concerned confusion. The expression alone broke a piece of her heart. She knew that if he were to find out the real effects of Cataclysm on her, he would never forgive himself. No amount of insistence of how she never blamed him would stop him from feeling guilty. And that was a burden she was not willing to give him.

“Nothing,” she resorted to say. “We have to get going, if we want to stop that bus.”

Without waiting for a response, and ignoring his calls, she swung away in the direction of the commotion. The pain lessened, almost as quickly as it came. Was there a pattern to those stupid pains? So far, they seemed to come and go as they pleased. But as she reached the swerving tour bus, Ladybug placed those thoughts at the back of her head, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

It wasn’t the first time they stopped a bus without brakes, so this should be a piece of cake.

She swung ahead of the bus, where she realized that if they didn’t stop the bus soon, it could end up causing a disaster outside Notre Dame Cathedral.

“Chat,” she turned to her partner, just as he landed next to her. “Remember last time we stopped a bus?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Follow me.”

In sync, the two heroes jumped on the hood of the vehicle. Like last time, Ladybug took Chat Noir’s baton and jumped from the front to underneath the bus. She then proceeded to wrap the string of her yo-yo around several tubes of the machine and around the baton. Once the vehicle passed, she threw the baton back to Chat Noir, who extended it and hooked it against two opposing buildings.

On the street, Ladybug pulled on her yo-yo, but she didn’t feel the same strength she had last time. She stumbled at least twice and, for a moment, she thought she would fail. But the bus started slowing. Yet, just as Ladybug started releasing some of the tension, there was a noise of snapping metal, and the bus jolted forward.

The heroine was pulled forward and landed face-first on the ground. She quickly lifted her gaze to the bus. Luckily, it seemed her mishap didn’t undo their efforts, and the giant metal beast stopped just before climbing the sidewalk.

“Thank goodness,” she sighed, laying her head back on the ground.

“Ladybug?” She grunted in response to her partner’s call. “Are you okay?”

Ladybug let out a prolonged sigh. She really didn’t feel like getting up, but unless she wanted to give explanations, she had to. Slowly, she rose from the ground, slightly dusting off her suit.

“We did it,” Ladybug breathed heavily, dragging back her yo-yo.

“Bien Joué!”

“What? Oh.” With lazy movements, she returned the fist-bump to her partner.

“Yeah, you’re not okay,” Chat Noir declared.

He said it with such determination, it made Ladybug turn her head so fast, she had whiplash. But she clearly saw the frown on his face.

“We have to help the civilians out,” she muttered, making her way to the victims.

“Why are you not talking to me?” Chat Noir insisted, quickly matching her pace. “Ladybug, what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” The last word almost got drowned, for the bells of Notre Dame had started chiming, signaling it was ten in the morning.

“You’ve been leaving a trail of sweat since we met up back there,” Chat Noir yelled over the commotion of the passengers and the bells. “Something is going on, but for some reason you don’t want to tell me.”

“I said I was fine,” Ladybug yelled back, starting to help passengers out of the bus.

“Great!” Chat Noir screamed. “So you wouldn’t mind if I wipe those two drops that have been driving me insane since you got off the street?”

By instinct, Ladybug rubbed the back of her hand under her chin. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized that her bangs were currently sticking to her forehead. A salty taste also invaded her lips, from the drops under her nose.

In a desperate attempt to hide it (although she knew it was too late), she wiped as much as she could from around her mouth and forehead, leaving her bangs in disarray. She looked back at Chat Noir, who was now scowling at her, for her flimsy lie.

The bells stopped chiming, and on cue, the stabbing pain was back at full force. This time, however, she was unable to hide her discomfort. Her hands flew directly to her hip, while she bit her lip to try to repress a scream. Instead came out a muffled loud grunt.

“Ladybug! What’s wrong? What is it?!” Chat Noir fussed, grabbing her by the shoulders.

Through a swimming vision, she saw her partner shift from looking at her and the people next to them.

“She’s just a little under the weather,” he said to someone behind her. “She’s fine, I just need to take her somewhere else.”

Ladybug suddenly felt herself being pulled away from the crowd. Her vision was blurry now, the sweat intensified. How did she still have water left in her body?! The ground was feeling soft and airless. Was she even walking? Well, her legs were moving, so she must be stepping on something.

“—feeling?”

“Huh?”

“What are you feeling?” Chat Noir repeated, placing a hand on her forehead. “Nausea, headache, runny nose? You feel like you have a fever.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ladybug breathed, her eyes trained on a golden shine. Was that his bell?

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital—”

“NO!” She grabbed the shiny thing, which was, in fact, his bell. “I can’t go to a hospital. I-I…I-It’s…”

But that familiar twist of her stomach forced her to move Chat Noir aside to empty…whatever contents were in her stomach. Because it sure as hell wasn’t food.

“That doesn’t look like a well-balanced breakfast,” Chat Noir said in a high-pitched voice. “Hell, that doesn’t look like food at all!”

“Chat,” Ladybug whispered, grabbing a hold on his bell again. “I-I’m… I’m sor—”

Her vision went black.

Buy me a Hot Chocolate?

[vera-invenire]

VnC Liveblog - Chapter 7

.All chapter liveblogs are linked HERE.

Hey, note for people following along: the last two chapters (5 and 6) didn’t show up on the main Vanitas no Carte tags because Tumblr filters out any posts that have outside links in them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But they’re done and the links for them are right up there. ^

Now, on to chapter 7!

Methinks MochiJun is running out of art for the chapter covers. That’s okay, I like this guy’s face.

OH MY GOD ARE WE GETTING WORLDBUILDING I AM EXCITED

So. Paracelsus. Famed physician and alchemist, called the Luther of medicine. He’s got a wikipedia page that I’m not gonna link to here *shakes tiny fist at tumblr* but probably the most interesting thing about him (if not the most important, in this context) is that ‘Paracelsus’ was his pen name. His real name?

Theophrastus von Hohenheim. Yeah. That von Hohenheim. Or at least the original one he was named after.

More pertinent, I think, is the fact that Paracelsus was a doctor, like our main character. He had a reputation for disdaining conventional medical thought (as this was the 1500s, this was not unwarranted) and for prioritizing practical experience over unproven theories preached by people with silly titles. Going by Vanitas’ fight with Orlok, I think he would have liked Paracelsus.

With Paracelsus involved, we now have a timeline for Babel -- it occurred sometime during the first half of the 1500s, creating vampires, astermite, the border, and, apparently, a number of disasters.

(the sudden appearance of vampires among the human population might have been disastrous enough, but I wonder if there were other things that were thrown out of wack.)

I don’t...quite get this formula business yet, so I’m gonna wait to comment on that until it’s more clear.

Nice job breaking it, Hohenheim.

This is like the tenth time the church has been mentioned, when are they gonna show up?

Hello, Creepy Teacher. Still without eyes, I see.

But not all coal and not all humans were altered.

And what is that on Teacher’s lapel, a clock with wings --

...time flies. You think you’re clever, don’t you.

...he’s planning on using Noé, the last Archiviste. Noé is key to something. What are you planning, Creepy Teacher.

Memoire 7 Bal Masque

Night of Sneering Masks

Lord Ruthven has a real swanky place, don’t he.

On the one hand, I want to go to a ball like this. On the other, it is full of vampires. Who, admittedly, seem like fairly decent people on average -- when they’re not losing their minds and going on murderous rampages.

Kinda looks like the Charlatan parade, though, no?

Hm, Domi is a bit shorter than Noé than I thought she was.

...wait, wait, wait, hold up. let’s zoom in here.

that’s Domi??? that looks like Unnerving Boy. crap, is she Unnerving Boy? i was joking about that before.

Glad I’m not the only one making that connection. The narrative wants this decadence to remind us of Charlatan. re: we shouldn’t trust it.

Domi: That guy’s gonna keep a low profile, right?

Vanitas: *seducing ALL the ladies at the ball*

Y’all knew he was an unrepentant grandstander. What did you expect.

(note: Vanitas knows sleight of hand)

(note: vampires can smell humans)

Hahahahaha, “I don’t understand how vampires define ‘friend’“ is my new favorite line, right along with “several different kinds of unfortunate”.

So my question is, can he only see the memories while he’s drinking? Or can he revisit them whenever he wants?

Vanitas adapted to the usefulness of that collar real quick.

I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN, I KNEW THAT DUM-DUM WOULD LEAVE THESE TWO ALONE AND SHIT WOULD HIT THE FAN

this is gonna be good

So spoketh Dominique de Sade. Never has a character been more aptly named.

(yo, is that Ada’s iron maiden. and a tortured stuffed white rabbit in the corner, too. the spirit of Vincent is alive and well.)

Meanwhile...Noé has found a new toy.

precious cinnamon roll, too pure, etc etc

ohoho, I think we know this kid.

HI, LUCA. And Jeanne can’t be that far away.

These guys are bodyguards, or retainers? Dressed like plague doctors, nice touch.

Luca (Lucius?), this is the man who held you hostage, why you lying.

Uh-oh. Something is clearly wrong with Jeanne.

...you might even say, she should probably see a doctor. *baddum-ting* (I think she’d prefer to die of consumption)

But it seems to be something she’s suffered from before? Is it her breathing or her throat?

Likely the same sister who lent Domi the collar and chain. Sister has interesting hobbies.

“I was all excited!” Yeah, this game is gonna be called Ha Ha, Surprise, I’m Kinkier Than You.

Point, Vanitas.

But Domi rallies nicely.

This is where we start getting real; Domi doesn’t fuck around when it comes to Noé. But does she really need to threaten to carve out Vanitas’ eye with a knife??

...throw more knives at him, Domi.

This is why you need to learn to keep your mouth shut, Vanitas. (also check the misogyny, I don’t want you to turn into Vincent, please)

She brings up some very good points.

Ooo, and it looks like something she said hit home. ...or one of the knives stabbed him. Nah, the black border means a brief flashback of some kind.

...Vanitas hates the Vampire of the Blue Moon. Well, well.

So why did he take his name?? And his Book???

(omg, did he steal the Book)

He’s cracked. He’s gonna do something stupid and/or reckless.

HE’S GONNA THROW HIMSELF BACKWARD OFF THE BALCONY. 

Well, he did say he was gonna get their attention.

(”you’re worried about Vanitas? you should be worried about me.” “no, wait, i mean, i’m here to save vampires. yes. out of the goodness of my bitter heart.”)

The chandelier’s made of bones, it’s a vampire ball, why wouldn’t it be.

Poor Domi’s like, ‘crap, I pushed the punk too far.’

The cajones on this kid.

Like, seriously, isn’t he supposed to be hiding the fact that he’s human...?

This is revenge for always wandering off and disappearing, Noé.

The gloves are coming off again and this time it’s not a bluff.

Holy crap, that’s a lot more extensive than I thought it’d be. Looks a lot like the moon and spider-webbed sky above Altus Paris, doesn’t it? And this mark is lower on his arm than we saw earlier.

Actually, let’s go back and compare. This is from chapter 4 --

So in chapter 4, we saw marks on his left arm. But...is it the same kind of mark? And how many marks does he have?

Branding is something you do to livestock.

The eyes look like the moon look like the brand. (ha, how much you want to bet the moon over Altus Paris is red and Vanitas’ mark is blue)

And the hourglass is front and center once again. He wears that thing for a reason and that reason is connected to the Vampire of the Blue Moon.

So was he really granted some kind of power, or is this another bluff? Then again, the power could be the ability to use the Book.

I’m starting to think the Vampire of the Blue Moon isn’t the only one who hates vampires...

(”fighting monsters is best left to other monsters”)

I would not trust a doctor who looked at me with a face like that, i’m just saying

And now this crusade to save the vampires makes much more sense.

In doing this, not only will Vanitas get the pleasure of having the vampires he’s curing at his mercy, but with each vampire he saves he sticks it to the Vampire of the Blue Moon.

This was never a charitable cause. This is a fuck you to the entire world, the original Vanitas in particular.

Everyone: “oh shit, this guy’s even crazier than we thought.”

Did he...not mean to say that part out loud...? Or did he see something in the crowd?

Guess we find out next chapter! Which is -- HERE.

[kingpadackles-blog]

The Show? A rant.

(I’m going to tag this with only one main tag, but it will also include wank which is why there is an undercut. So if you don’t like wank, please do not read, just skip right past this post.)

I feel like I need to share my Twitter experience with some of my followers & other J2 & brother fans. I will be talking about the show, fans, & even the cast & crew.

Read at your own risk because this is some real fucked up shit.

The Fans:

I just have to say those of you who don’t have Twitter & are not associated with the “likeness” of it are extremely lucky in a fucked up twisted way. For these past few weeks I truly have immersed myself in the Twitter-verse only to see hate & negativity like I’ve never seen before.

For example, I’m going to take you back to a few weeks ago. There is one Twitter account that is supposed to be a neutral Supernatural account. This said account has a shit ton of followers & is pretty much always active. Sadly, this supposed fan account I’m talking about is also one of the accounts who basically added gasoline to those J2 rape jokes that Jensen & Jared were damn near pressured into making at a recent convention a while back because it was clearly stated they shouldn’t share the joke because it was inappropriate. I’m sure people will automatically know what account I’m talking about, because this person has been around for a long time now.

As for another fucked up example. I have never seen a fandom, on Twitter, where other fans from different sections of the Supernatural fandom are utterly obsessed with each other in the most negative way possible. I’ve seen so many countless Destiel accounts take screen shots of popular brother fans accounts to make fun of them, laugh at them, call them names, harass them, & quite frankly cyber stalk them. It is literally the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life. Most importantly it’s also unhealthy mentally. What I have witnessed makes me have a whole new perspective on what brother fans on Twitter are subjected to. It also makes me have a new found level of respect for these brother fans who stick up for what they love that are harassed by Destiel and Cockles fans on a daily basis.

On Twitter, sadly, it’s also not okay to just like the brothers. Some of you who are only involved in the fandom on a small degree may be thinking “what the fuck are you talking about?” But I mean exactly what I just said. If you’re a brother fan and are not a fan of Castiel or other side characters for that matter, then you are automatically considered a hater. Accounts with power & a lot of followers quote your tweet & respond to it (quoting is a way for them to get people to see your tweet & their own response to you all at once) so that their followers see what you said & attack you as well.

The worst part about this “attacking” from fans is that, despite the fact that there aren’t any harmful threats, that I’ve seen that is. It’s just plain out nastiness, sort of like verbal bullying, except most fans don’t call anyone “whores” or “bitches” ect. No, instead it’s more like twisted mind games. They try to make it seem like if you have any concerns about the show then you’re a “hater”.

The Writers, Cast, and Crew:

What I’m going to say might actually come as a shock to some of you that don’t have Twitter, but believe me when I tell you that it’s very much true.

So to give you a bit of back story, these past few episodes many fans have been unhappy with the writing of both Sam & Dean. Some people have said that Sam have been sidelined, others are saying that Dean is acting out of character. I am one of those fans who believe it’s actually both of these things. Anyway, I realize there are many fans out there who are perfectly fine with the show and that’s okay, I respect your opinion.

The writers for the show engage in fandom discussion almost every week there is a new episode. And these writers always tweet something like “Did you guys enjoy the new episode?” When they tweet that of course there are tons of fans who go “Yesssss! We loved it! Great job!” Which is fine, because if they liked the episode than that’s their opinion. However, there are brother fans who give their opinion to these writers and it is automatically assumed “hate” if we don’t like something or are not feeling the writing.

The reason why I bring this up is because these writers are the same ones who favorite Destiel accounts who tweet at them saying things like “Ignore brother fans, all they do is hate! We love your episodes!” So just in case you missed what I said before, I’ll say it again. The writers FAVORITE those type of tweets hating on & dissing brother fans.

Which is ironic because some Destiel fans have attacked & belittled the writers for years.

But because these writers fav tweets like that, it sends the signal that whatever brother fans have to say is irrelevant & is automatically hate. Meanwhile, let me clarify that I have not seen any brother fan yelling derogatory insults at these writers. All I’ve read are literal concerns with how Dean & Sam are being written. But of course there is always that possibility of some brother fans being nasty that I haven’t seen, I’m not discounting that.

Some of these lesser known crew members for the show even tweet about Destiel despite the fact that it’s not canon and Jensen isn’t for it. That’s not a joke either, some of them really do that.

I respect ships, but I feel like if you’re part of the cast & crew you should keep what you ship to a minimum, it’s highly unprofessional if you don’t.

Conclusion:

Being stuck on Twitter & seeing that negativity on a constant basis it’s actually very depressing you guys. And I have to be honest I’ve thought about leaving the fandom a few times already. As in leaving my Twitter & Tumblr account behind & just moving on from the show & fandom in general. Not just because of the negativity from fans, I can handle fandom wars. That shit doesn’t even really bother me. But it’s because what the writers & other cast & crew have been doing. I can’t stand what they’re doing to Dean & Sam What’s the point in having a show & not listening to the fans valid concerns. It’s not like these fans are asking for Wincest to be canon the same way Destiel shippers do with their own ship. We are literally asking for better Sam storylines & to express that we believe Dean is being written out of character.

On a more positive note, I can assure you guys that many fans have been speaking up about the lack of Sam POV episodes & storylines & out of character Dean scenes. So hopefully the writers will start listening. When I say a lot of people are making noise about what they’re disliking, I mean it.

Sorry for the sorta depressing post, but I did tell you guys a few days ago that I’d be posting more often about what I think on things. Also to be clear this isn’t a diss on any specific ships, that’s not what my account is about. But I am talking about MY experience that I’ve had for while on Twitter... And it’s not a good one at all. Every and anything that you just read is not even exaggerated.

[huntypastellance]

A follow up to the posts about the Nazi art (drawn by a Klance artist), the Pride Parade Klance sign & all those edits where Sheith scenes in canon got turned into Klance ROMANTIC scenes by people who constantly spam “I ONLY SEE THEM AS BROTHERS, BROGANES, THAT’S SUCH A PLATONIC BROGANES SCENE” everywhere.

NOTE: This is referring to the Klancedom, NOT Klance shippers. If you do NOT do any of these things, this post is NOT talking about you.

This interview has been approved of by MisterPoofOfficial (names were blacked out at her request).

Do NOT harass any of these people in the screenshots.

The events:

> Misterpoof creates a parody animatic of the Heathers song “Dead Girl Walking” & makes it a Sheith video. At this point, Poof was already known for not wanting to make any content for Klance & only making content for Sheith, Keitor, Pance & gen stuff.

> Klancers fill the comments section, whining for a Klance version. Misterpoof blacklists the word “klance” from her notifications & deletes all comments mentioning them. Poof’s fans tell the klancers to knock it off.

> A Klancer makes a yandere Klance PORN version of Poof’s animatic, directly advertising it on the comments of Poof’s animatic. (Keith & Lance semi-graphically have sex in this video).

Lord Pastel Lance: The Klance version was Keith TRYING TO RAPE AN UNWILLING LANCE (he gives in after Keith "reasons" with him) Oh god, klancers Never change Poof: Oh dear lord;;;; that’s gross I didn’t even watch the video, I was too scared it was gonna look like mine;;;” Lord Pastel Lance: NOPE It's got yandere creep faces & is genuinely disturbing with dark colors & Lance PHYSICALLY shoving Keith away from him And like, actual sex Like, they fuck

> Meanwhile, as Klancers & antis flock to the Klance version, the plagiarist upvotes & responds positively to anti-Sheith & anti-Poof comments. She claims that she admires Poof’s stuff even though it’s Sheith & she hates Sheith & doesn’t like going on Sheith vids while also saying that Sheith content on youtube should not exist at all (even joking that she will start a ship war).

Poof: And my video was dedicated to my friends--It wasn’t even supposed to be taken seriously yet people think that me assigning Lance as the "bad guy" means that I hate him Lord Pastel Lance: Seriously, who says "I was inspired by Poof" & then promotes & likes comments basically saying "I hate Poof & Poof's stuff".

> She even went so far as to react negatively & shut down an upset Sheith fan who was just asking for others to let people ship whatever they want. > She also agrees (multiple times) with fans that gay sex is sin & that they are sinners for getting off to her Klance porn video. > She also claims to be a 14 year old who openly draws BL porn on her parents’ laptop & says that she got all her knowledge from BL stuff & yaoi.

Lord Pastel Lance: Google research: literally just a click away Poof: Honestly......I mean they’re using their parent's computer after all Lord Pastel Lance: They already drew twinks fucking on their parents' computer Are they seriously that worried that their parents will see them reading about gay sex

> She also linked Poof’s video directly on her Klance video & self-promoed her klance version directly in the comments of Poof’s vid. (And mentioned how much she hated Sheith). [Reminder that the Klance version was watched predominately by Klancers/antis who were bashing Poof for not making Klance stuff. This was essentially painting a huge bulls-eye on Poof. And that the Klance artist was encouraging these types of comments in her own comment section.]

Poof: The comments I’ve gotten in the video (are removed) -- I’ve been called a "pedophile" for liking Sheith and making content for it -- another comment was talking about age discourse (also removed) I recall getting a comment (also removed) saying this wouldve been better with Klance

> Poof finally disables all comments (just on her Heathers video though).

Lord Pastel Lance: Also They're blaming YOU & your fans in the comments Poof: I KNOW I READ IT AND IT’S RIDICULOUS

Lord Pastel Lance: ??? If they wanted to apologize, why didn't they just send you a fucking ask? Poof: Exactly??? I have my tumblr and twitter on my about on youtube Lmao they could’ve looked and said sorry instead of talking shit

Poof: I found this in my Dead Keith Walking part 2 Lord Pastel Lance: Amazing Poof: Funny.....You say that Lord Pastel Lance: And yet they can't seem to send you a single comment apology Poof: Yup Lord Pastel Lance: It costs zero dollars to say "sorry for causing people to bash on you" Like damn gurl, you don’t need a tumblr to talk to misterpoof Poof: Exactly??? And they don't know how to use it ------------------------------------------- Lord Pastel Lance: By the way, Did the plagiarist ever apologize to you (directly) on tumblr/youtube? Poof: Nope! Never got a single message from them apologizing to me Lord Pastel Lance: Damn It's been like a whole week or so, right? Poof: Yeah Lord Pastel Lance: Even toddlers can use smartphones to google "how 2 do this" now Poof: Lmao true Lord Pastel Lance: Seriously, there is no way that it takes them over a week to figure out "HOW DO I SEND POOF AN ASK ON TUMBLR" Poof: I mean sure they're new to it and they don't know how to use tumblr, but seriously, it's not so hard to just go to my channel and apologize or send me a message Lord Pastel Lance: Yeah, but A WEEK In 2017 Plus they already send you comments on youtube There's nothing stopping them from sending you an apology On youtube Poof: Mhm ------------------------------------------- Poof: So apparently they "apologized", but through instagram and it was just...

:/ You know, I was expecting a message since there is an option on instagram. Not...being tagged in something where everyone can see it.......... I checked my instagram for once jfc, I don't go on it often, but they tagged me in their post to say "sorry"... Lord Pastel Lance: With like zero context Poof: Yup They just straight up said "I’m sorry" and nothing else :/ Lord Pastel Lance: Sorry for what? Plagiarizing? Shitting on you? Self-promo-ing in the comments of your own vids? Promoting comments that shit on you & your vids? That's SO vague Poof: Exactly??? I'm not replying back to the post because not only is it awkward, but it's just not right to forgive them for what they've done Lord Pastel Lance: I don't think they've fully understood their part in this either I think it's more like a "oh noes, a BNF is upset & people think it's my fault that she's mad!!! D:" sort of thing Poof: Mhm

Twas not the straw that broke the camel’s back, but a never-ending pile of sticks instead.

The entitled hypocrisy of the Klancedom is outrageous.

Claiming to loathe Sheith, but constantly looking at Sheith content & whining to the creators that the content would be “so much better if it was Klance & Broganes instead”. Taking no responsibility when people use your Sheith->Klance content to harass the original creators. Excusing anything & everything fucked up that a Klance fan does with “they didn’t know any better!” even though everybody in the discourse is talking through the INTERNET -- the information multilingual multicultural highway. Encouraging discourse & ship hate while pretending to be ignorant about it. Dismissing all the harassment shaladins receive while using the “Not All Klancers” card whenever shaladins complain about the harassment. Doing NOTHING to stop/prevent the Klantis from harassing people while you yourself bitch endlessly about how Shaladins are such hypocrites for generalizing Klance fans as hate-spamming anti-Sheith douchebags. Calling yourself an anti to “protect children & the LGBTQ+ community” while squealing happily about how gay sex is “sin” unironically.

The second you start allowing/encouraging people to trash on someone, who you CLAIMED to like, & that person’s stuff, which you REPEATEDLY mentioned that you dislike, you have chosen a side in the discourse. You are NOT being neutral.

You don’t want to get involved in discourse? Fine. THEN DON’T GET INVOLVED AT ALL.

[theaniviagodess]

I love my mutuals!

I am in a good mood today and felt like showing how grateful I am for my mutuals. If you’re looking for new blogs to follow, try some of these! I’ll add a short description of the blog to try and save you time. I say “a lot” quite a bit in here and while normally I would fix it, I hope you understand that this took awhile so I don’t exactly feel motivated to. If you got tagged in this, you totally don’t have to do anything back! Don’t feel obligated to! I just want to share my friends! Please feel free to let me know if you want to be taken off the list or if something I said offended you, I really just want to share you in the best of light with my followers.  If you want to be my mutual, for whatever reason, just message me something! Send me a post you think I’d like, send me a joke, ask me a question, I don’t care! I love having people to talk to, I just suck at starting conversations.

@nishikinico - Lots of Love Live, anime in general, tons of memes, and commentary on social issues. They make mixes of Love Live songs and all their work is super, check them out! They have a search function on their blog and if you type in “mix” it’ll come up with a lot of cool stuff they’ve made!

@satanstolemyblog - This is one of my IRL buddies. He posts a lot of video game related stuff but also a lot of comedy stuff. He’s a super cool dude. I also live with him so if you like my blog there’s a high chance you’ll like his. 

@sasquatch-penetration - I totally forget how or why my and Kieran became mutuals but they post a lot of funny stuff and if I’m in a bad mood and just looking for laughs I tend to go to their blog and just scroll on it endlessly. 

@aceserena - Me and Serena played LoL together awhile ago! Lots of gaming, jokes, and some cute stuff too! High quality. 10/10 would duo again. Overall super chill and they’re one of the few mutuals I’ve interacted with.

@artoria-official - Lots of anime, lots of gaming, lots of...are you picking up on the theme of who I follow and who follows me? I’ve only interacted with them once but they were super friendly and helpful! They didn’t make me feel awkward about reaching out despite the lack of any small talk or lead into the conversation so they’re obviously a good person!

@alanshitpostsandgames - Lots and lots of Pokemon! Pokemon being one of my main hobbies pretty much anyone with quality Pokemon posts is worth a follow in my book. They post a lot of silly stuff too. I only recently started to follow them but they’ve put up with me for awhile so clearly they have good taste.

@iamhedwig915 - Another of my IRL friends. They post a lot of comedy stuff and in general are just super nice. I lived with them for over a year and I can’t honestly say anything negative about them. They were just such a sweet person and one of the best roommates. 

@so-hufflepunk - This is my girlfriend. Going off of messenger and nothing else, she’s tied for 1st for my most interacted with. She posts a lot of cute funny things and I just love her a lot and most of my sense of humor comes from her. If you want my blog to have cute stuff instead of anime, she’s your girl! She’s actually my girl but she’s your blog! Actually it’s her blog but you should follow her!

@theblackwitchworld - Lots of Madoka and Love Live. Madoka was one of the first animes that I got to sit down and watch with friends. It’s one of the biggest ties I have to one of my best friends. Meanwhile, Love Live is my favorite anime and probably the only anime they I have ever been actively invested in. So when I found a blog with both, it only made sense to follow them! 0 clue why they follow me tho

@suprememeep - We met during a Splatfest in Splatoon! Our group did super well with like 20+ wins. We found each other on Tumblr after that and have followed each other sense! If you were active in the Neko Atsume fandom, they created Glunkus and Hobo! They’re super friendly and I love interacting with them, even if it’s less than I’d like. 

@daeronsingollo - I forget how or why we started following each other, but they reply to a lot of my posts and whenever I interact with them it’s super enjoyable! They post a lot of Pokemon, art, and cute things! I love their blog a lot and it’s one of the more aesthetically pleasing blogs I follow.

@theamazingpants - Another IRL person. Me and Pants have been friends since 2010 or 2011. He’s probably one of my closest friends and I really care about him. He posts a lot of anime and gaming, surprise. He’s one of those people that you could never see yourself befriending nowadays, but because of the history, it just keeps working. <3

@flailmorpho - Me and Flail met on the Anivia tag! We both mained Anivia for a long time, it being our main common interest. Lots of comedy, gaming, and commentary. Super nice overall and I highly recommend them if you’re looking for someone chill to follow. 

@luccario8 - I think me and Luccario also met over on the Anivia tag. They post a lot of gaming stuff as well as comedy. Interactions with them are always super pleasant and I can’t do anything but praise them. Check them out!

@dustyshark - Another comedy blog I follow! They post a lot of happy stuff and only top quality jokes. I super love their blog and steal a lot of the jokes they reblog. They have amazing content and if you want more humor in your life I recommend heading over there.

@hornlessquipster - IRL friend and my gf’s roommate for 2 years now. They are LITERALLY the nicest person I know. They have offered me a place to stay when times were tough, they are always sticking their neck out for others, they are involved in so much stuff I literally do not know how they continue to function. They are super great and I love them. 

@nitrogennightmare - I follow a lot more IRL people than I thought. This is one of my best friends. They post a lot of comedy, music, and aesthetic stuff.  We vent to each other a lot, but because we both stink at staying in touch with people, mainly me, we’ve lost touch recently. They are super laid back and I love them 

@captaincrunchmakesmebleed - Anime and Comedy. This is one of the blogs I’ve followed and loved for a long time. I made them fanart once! They just came back from being dead for awhile. I really looked up to their blog for a long time and reblog a lot of stuff from them. Easily one of my favorite blogs on this hellsite. 

@spooksbot - I LOVE SPOOKS! While we don’t interact a lot I love following them, all of our interests are pretty much the same, and they are in general a super nice person. Their blog is a lot of fun and the interact with people a lot via open reply posts. They are a super cool person. We played Overwatch once together but the time difference is killer :/ HIGH RECOMMEND 

@killer-x-queen - A super funny blog! We interacted a lot back in the day and they were always so kind and nice. They had a post that was like “send me your best pickup lines” and I just kept sending them the shittiest puns I could think of. I was having a lot of fun with them. They are a great person <3

@zioketski - Lots of humor and Pokemon! At this point none of you should be surprised as to why I follow people. This is one of the mutuals I have where we don’t interact but like and reblog each others things! Their blog is quality. 

@cecilia-hatake - We’re getting far down my list now, into the realm of people I’ve been following for like...4+ years now. They post a lot of anime and I know I’ve interacted with them in the past. They have a lot of quality posts but their blog has been dead for a year :(

@bottaw - An IRL friend again! Will is one of the closest friends I made at college and is one of the most, if not the most, caring individual I know. He has a lot of video games and gem things on his blog. Will may not be one my longest friends...but he is one of the oldest ;P

@zanaea - Alright this motherfucker right here. Where the fuck do I start. We have been friends since 2009. Easily in my top 5 friends, probably 1st tbh. Joe and I have been through some shit and have been there for each other every single time. They have a lot of Pokemon, Video Game, Anime, Comedy, aesthetic, they have it all. I love this kid. I would give my money, the shirt off my back, my first born, and my life to keep them safe. They may not be perfect, but I’ll be damned if someone tries to say they don’t give it their all. 

@thepunkin-king - Matt is one of my oldest friends, like, over 15 years now. We met in elementary school, I wanna say 1st grade so 2001. His blog is dead but this kid was one of the best friends I have ever had. I don’t even know how to explain his blog since I haven’t visited it since I followed him back in like 2012/2013, but he is a cool dude. We keep in touch on FB, but barely. 

[janiedean]

(part 1) ur gonna roast me for this but im legit curious why mafia AUs are so bad? im asking in a non confrontational way, i get it romanticizing mafia is wrong, but i also believe that 1)most mafia AUs are a really toned down type of mafia;2)they do make for some interesting kinds of dynamics with fanart and with fics; 3)in a fic specifically u can create your own world and call something mafia and still make it so they don't kill innocent people but only idk members of other gangs or sth

(part 2) plus theyre a way to put ur charas in a completely diff context and see what theyll do. i mean i dont believe that writing ships in a certain context (like mafia) equals romanticizing that context. mafia AUs arent even my fav things to read (in fact i almost never do), im sure many ppl romanticize it and i obvs dont agree with that but im just trying to udnerstand bc i believe fandoms are a way to explore things that we normally wouldnt.

I’m not gonna roast you don’t worry xD okay wait let me check if I replied to this already if yes I’m gonna c/p because it’s half past midnight otherwise I’ll just go at it again wait *checks tags* fff obviously I don’t have a general post but anyway pls read this after you’ve done with my post and then this which is also choke-full of links. plus for a (not nice) laugh: here. AH WAIT I FOUND THE POST.

okay, so, let’s have it out of the way: I have nothing against mob aus or crime aus. I have a problem against calling them mafia AUs because in the US mafia = organized crime at large, in Italy mafia = ACTUAL EXISTING ORGANIZATIONS THAT ARE ACTIVELY HARMFUL. now that I introduced the topic I’ll c/p you the reply I gave to another anon who while discussing the issue pointed out that most writers don’t even know Italian mafia is a thing, which is pretty much on the same discourse so...

*The thing is - in the US it might not be enough of a deal anymore and I honestly do get why people make the mafia = regular mobsters, since the mafia was the first foreign organized crime being exported to the US via italian immigrants (sorry if this sounds horrible in English but I just woke up and I still didn’t have coffee) so I understand that mafia became the umbrella term.But the thing is that - as you said, these people don’t even know that there’s a mafia in Italy anymore or where the word comes from.

 I’m going to link to italiansreclaimingitaly’s tag about the mafia and its perception outside Italy because they posted about this extensively and it’s an excellent resource, but meanwhile I’m gonna do a very short bullet point list and about the topic:

Mafia might not be a big deal in the US, but it still is here. We have the beauty of four different mafias (Cosa Nostra - the Sicilian one, camorra which is the one in Campania but has tendrils spread everywhere, the 'ndrangheta which is in Calabria and the Sacra Corona Unita in Puglia) which are all active [especially camorra and 'ndrangheta] and whose actions have direct impact (negative) on our economy and on our society. Actually mafias are one of the main reasons we’re currently economically fucked up, and if I start talking about how mafia culture keeps some areas literally backwards I could talk about it for three months.

There are still people who are killed for standing up against them. These days the most prominent personality is Roberto Saviano who is a writer who dared to put together a book documenting minutely the way camorra works and he’s been living under protection for years by this point. Like, they want him dead because he wrote a book. And I’m sorta sure that he was talking about leaving Italy and going to the US after years of sticking with it here because he can’t take it anymore but I don’t know if it was a taken decision or if it’s still debating it.

It wasn’t even thirty years ago that we had the stragi di mafia - in english it’d be something like the mafia slaughters, basically around the beginning of the nineties there were a number of bombs planted by the mafia targeting people who were trying to oppose it including judges Falcone and Borsellino, actually the anniversary of Falcone’s death is like... tomorrow. And they’ve killed people for way longer than that. Here is a list of only Cosa Nostra victims including the ones from the eighties/nineties. And people are still dying because of it. The slaughters I’m referring to are just the ones in the nineties which are enough of a number.

They also perpetuate a culture where if you testify against your mafia-employed relatives you’ll be shunned forever. There are women who testified against their families and couldn’t see their children anymore never mind that they weren’t automatically considered a relative anymore the moment they sided against the mafia. Some people have committed suicide after becoming witnesses also because our police force/justice system can be terribly non-supportive in this kind of situation so they got left on their own. Never mind that back in the day - it was the beginning of the nineties? - I recall at least a particular story of - I think, correct me if I remember wrong but I can’t remember the names for the life of me - where this guy testified against the local mafia when he either used to work for them or was forced to pay them the pizzo and in retaliation his six-year old (or five? Anyway he had a son younger than ten for sure) got kidnapped, killed and thrown into acid to dispose of the body. That happened in what, 1993? 1994? It’s pretty much yesterday. And now the camorra is doing the same - there’s a list here of camorra victims among which accidental passerbys that got killed because they were in the way which I can tell just by glancing is not complete. And I’m not even going into the 'ndrangheta. That is to say, here mafia still kills people and cripples our country.

Now, I get that it’s a word, but the point was: let’s say that instead of the Italians the Japanese came to the US first and the umbrella word for organized crime was yakuza rather than mafia and let’s say yakuza was still what it was originally in Japan while in the US it stopped being a big deal and people write yakuza!AU instead of mafia AU. Let’s say someone Japanese gets angry at that and goes like 'listen the yakuza is a real deal it does this this this and that and it’s a plague in our country so can you please at least look it up before writing your fanfic’, which is what had happened way back then when this whole mafia and fanfic thing blew up. A bunch of people told us to get over it because it’s just a word and if it’s a problem in Italy it’s not in the US so why should they care? Now, if we had been Japanese (or Chinese or Russian or Mexican) would they have said the same thing? Considering the general tumblr attitude I’m pretty sure they would have received either an apology or 'this is an important deal let’s keep that in mind’ with signal boost reblogs and stuff. 

It’s the fact that we should get over people not knowing that it’s still a real problem for us and that they can’t take five seconds to google it that is the problem imo. Especially when instead of mafia au you can just say mobsters au or tag it as organized crime and everyone is a lot happier, mostly because as the tag above explains romanticising the mafia is a good thing for them because it means they can act outside Italy with less stigma because everyone thinks that the mafia is dead or not relevant anymore, if I’m explaining myself. (And it’s active outside Italy - like, there was a mafia kill in Germany in 2007 where six people died (sorry the link is in Italian but there isn’t an English wiki page, if you look the city up you’ll find something probably) and it was because of the 'ndrangheta.

I’d really like to not get worked over it because it meant it was a thing of the past y'know, but the problem is that it isn’t and I’d rather spread some awareness in hope some of these writers look it up (because it’s a good thing that people know what mafia is since as stated they have tendrils everywhere - if you read Saviano’s book the entire first chapter is about how camorra regularly deals with Chinese import/export in Italy for one) than shrug and figure that since they’ll think everything is good for fanfic then it’s not even worth my time.*

Now, ^^^ that was the c/p-ed reply that should answer most of your doubts. What I didn’t address was:

im sure many ppl romanticize it and i obvs dont agree with that but im just trying to udnerstand bc i believe fandoms are a way to explore things that we normally wouldnt.

aaaand as we say here in Italy, this is where the donkey falls (sorry we have weird sayings), because in theory there’s nothing wrong with that... except that in 99% of the mafia aus I’ve seen around the thing is that they’re supposed to be cute.

like, I see a lot of shit with TINY MAFIA BOSS STEVE ROGERS with RUSSIAN ENFORCER BUCKY (????? bucky isn’t even russian???) and the yoi thing I saw before had the japanese character being the leader of a russian mafia gang which is... like... guys it doesn’t happen it really doesn’t, and a lot of them re-use wrongly terminology taken from the godfather without context or knowing what the hell it means, and it’s always from the criminals’ pov and they’re somehow seen as criminals doing justice where the police can’t (???) and like... no. mafia bosses/enforcers/employees are bad people period, and at least here if you try to leave or repent they kill your family in retribution. like, not even ten years ago there’s been a woman who used to belong to a mafia family (or one colluded with the mafia) who testified and her entire town/family shunned her and she couldn’t take it anymore and... killed herself drinking acid if I don’t recall wrong. it’s not even special cases. this shit is not funny, it’s not cute, it’s not adorable and it’s not good fodder for your imagine your otp scenario (srsly I saw one like.. let me find it,

LIKE. just look at this shit. in a regular context, the enforcer goes to the show owner to force them to pay a monthly sum to their boss lest they destroy their shop and their lives and their family’s life never mind that mafia culture is deeply homophobic so the mafia enforcer flirting with the shopkeeper is like completely fucking out of the question. I mean, people here like to shit on the sopranos but that show was actually excellent representation of Horrid Criminals Who Were Never Supposed To Be Good People and the small arc that happened when one of tony’s friends turned out to be gay (closeted) was REALLY well done. btw, it ended that when they found out he was gay most of the crowd rejected him and thought badly of him until I think they killed him also for other reasons, but that spiraled from finding out he liked dick. and that’s american mafia that they actually based on well-done research of the culture in Italy it came from, I assure you that here it doesn’t work that differently. like. the shit above is so inaccurate and frankly offensive, it’s like... I get people romanticizing problematic stuff but the thing is that when you tell them that it’s actually offensive you get brushed off as ‘ah well you’re being too sensitive it’s just a word u__u’. now, I’m all for exploring shit we wouldn’t be into, but not like THAT, because that’s like mafia romantic comedy and that’s not how it works. now, you wanna do a fic where the mafia characters are deeply flawed and bad people and the police tries to catch them? fine, great, go ahead. you wanna do a fic where the enforcer above deals with dunno an entire life of internalized homophobia when he finds the shopkeeper attractive and feels conflicted over having to con money out of him and doing horrible shit for a living and maybe understanding that crime isn’t worth it and then he actually collaborates with the police and gets shit from about everyone he knows and loves for that? okay, awesome, go ahead. nothing bad in that.

but the shit above is not exploring things we wouldn’t/writing darkfic, it’s THINKING THAT A CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION WHICH IS STILL A THING IN OUR PART OF THE WORLD IS CUTE AND ADORABLE. and that only plays in their favor because it takes the bad aura out of the word and we really should not let that happen. like. that is what is bad about mafia aus and mafia discourse, that people don’t realize the mafia is alive and well and thriving and not a thing that doesn’t exist or a generic word for organized crime.

you wanna write the shit above? okay, CALL IT CRIME AU or mob au, not mafia au.

btw, add-on: idk if I mentioned it in the above post or not, but in case I didn’t, I said that people would balk at the idea of a mexican cartel au. sadly since then I’ve found out a fandom where not only there is one but it’s also extra cutesy and people apparently love it and it has a bunch of kudos/comments and idek I’m not even touching that with a ten foot pole but like... I’ve avoided it and everything that author wrote because to me it’s just... nope. like, nope. if you do mafia aus don’t make them fucking cute. (also: in the same fandom I had to mute a v. famous fanartist whose art I actually liked but did cutesy mafia aus and.. like... haahahhaahahahahaha nah sorry. can’t go there. nope.)

[stephicness]

I work so hard on my gifs and edits but barely get any notes. It's so discouraging. How do you make so pretty gifs? When I feel great about mine - I get nothing. :(

Dear anon, as corny as it is for me to say – and perhaps the most unhelpful thing as well – the best way to not get discouraged about notes is to ultimately not worry how many notes your post gets. Because in the end, it’s a creation that you enjoy first of all. Sharing it with others is just a benefit in the long run. Making a pretty gif set, in my opinion, is super subjective. Some people might think that one gif set is the prettiest thing in the world, while another might go ‘Hm… I’m not diggin’ it.’ And that’s okay! Art, beauty, it’s all unique to the person who browses and looks at gif sets in general. c:

It sounds super lame of me to say, but so long as you’re happy with what you made, does it really matter if your set gets alot of notes? I mean, my favorite edit of all time that I did is a nobody compared to my usual gif sets. But it’s a special edit that sticks close in my heart that I love. I think that’s rewarding to have finished it and know that ‘Hey. I made this! I’m happy about it! C:’ The idea of other people liking it too makes you feel nice, but they don’t need to be your only source of validation. 

But, besides the pep talk, I can give you a few tips on how you might be able to get your edits out there a bit more? Not necessarily will this get you notes all the time every time, but there’s all sorts of ways you can at least spread them about and share them for people to look at them! Here’s a small list of tips:

1) TAG ALL THE THINGS!

This. This. THIS. Tagging is by far one of the most important things you can do to get your posts out there more! Tag your posts by the game title, the things it’s often abbreviated as, the characters in your edits, their nicknames – tags, tags, tags! Tags for days! Honestly, tagging things is so important! Because when you tag things, it’s a much higher chance that someone else will be able to find what you made when browsing through tumblr. They might be searching for a specific tag, a specific character, a specific ship, and so your post will most likely appear if you tag it the appropriate things! 

Even more is that sometimes, people also can subscribe to certain tags to have instant access to their search or even have newer and popular posts in that tag appear on their dashboard! I personally have the ‘Ravus Nox Fleuret’ tag and a few others I follow specifically, so I always get to see what’s new for my favorite man and my ships. So by tagging your edits and posts, you’ll be able to have a farther reach with your edits for people to find!

This comes with a warning though, however: there is nothing more annoying than finding a misplaced post amongst the tags. Like, how weird would it be for you if you were browsing through the ‘Ignis Scientia’  tag and suddenly there’s a post talking about how much someone really loves the Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Like, no relevance at all on the outside or inside. It’s just there? It’s strange and odd, and honestly, it appears more disorganized than anything. So be careful on how you tag your things!

If push comes to shove, just remember to tag it with these: personal tags (my edits, personal comments, etc), the fandom name and abbreviations, the character names (full and/or short, it’s up to you), and perhaps a tag for the reference you made in your gifset.

I also recommend having an internal tagging system on your blog too, if you don’t have one already in place. Tagging systems are important for blog navigation, especially for incoming followers! That way, they can come browse through your other edits, posts you have in regards to fandoms, characters, and topics they like, and more! A tag system is really important to have for the sake of organizing everything for you and your followers!

2) Finding the Right Fanbase

It’s probably a self-explanatory thing, but more popular fandoms and more popular characters will most likely get more notes than less popular ones. If you’re seeking notes, then you might find yourself perhaps wanting to use a more popular subject for your gif sets. After all, Noctis will probably always get more notes than Dave if you try to pit them against each other. 

But will he get more popular than Ardyn? Well, it’s subjective too. You can make an edit of a popular character from a popular fandom, and it’ll definitely get more notes. But that’s because you’re appealing to different fanbase as a whole. Noctis is well-liked, for example, among most of the Final Fantasy XV fandom, so he’s generally going to get more attention of it all. Meanwhile, if you take another character like Ardyn, for example, you might not have everyone who liked Noctis liking Ardyn and all. But with a change of character comes a change of fanbase too! There’s quite a few Ardyn fans who would love seeing a new edit of the hobo chancellor, so keeping in mind what fanbase you want to appeal to is super important when you want to share your edits with them (again, TAG YOUR STUFF TO PASS IT AROUND). 

Fanbases are always changing and different, but knowing which fanbase you want to share your edits with will play a big role on the exposure your edit may or may not get!

3) Aesthetic Appeal

As I said before, beauty is really really subjective, but there are a few design things to keep in mind when you want to make a more visually appealing edit. Art and design theory imperative to keep note of when making an edit. Of course, once you know the rules, it’ll be easy for you to bend the rules. But some things that I personally keep note of when making a gif set can include…

The Coloring – Make sure that there’s a reason why you picked certain colors in your edit, and why some exist next to others! Play with the idea of analogous colors being together and complimentary colors pushing against others. Take note of the highlights and shadows to play with some dramatic lightings. Decide which parts should be more saturated and others less saturated. Different colors convey different themes, ya know.

The Typography – If you have an edit with typography, keep in mind of the type of fonts you’re using! You wouldn’t use a curly font when talking about a dramatic death scene, after all. Picking the right fonts is crucial in fitting the right style you want. Sans Serif fonts that are close together give off a very tension and more modern feel, while spaced out ones give a more orderly and airy feel. Serif fonts give off a completely different feel to them too – being more romantic and poetic and more traditional over the boxy sans serif kinds of fonts. They all have a different mood they can capture, so pick your fonts wisely!

The Composition – Where you place everything is also super critical to keep in mind of! Like, did you know that placing text in the bottom right corner gives your brain a different signal than when you place it in the top left? In English reading, you typically read from top left to bottom right, so the right is often where your eye rests last (I can go an entire tangent about this, not gonna lie), so be weary on how you place the figures and the text in the things you’re making an edit of. 

The Quality – Make sure that your edits are saved in a really nice quality! Cleaner gifs give off a more professional vibe, and they’re alot nicer to look at than something super grainy and chunky. Tumblr now has a 3 MB limit on gifs, so it’s even easier to have your gifs with higher frame rates and less pixelated quality. It’s so nice! So utilize it…!

4) Emotional Appeal

Want someone to take a moment to pause and look at your edits? Appeal to them emotionally! Make a heartbreaking scene even sadder by referencing back a relevant and even more heartbreaking quote/lyric/poem. Make a funnier moment even funnier by parodying it. People want to feel things – sad things, happy things, all the things! So using color theory and quotes to help add to these feelings can really get people to stop and look for a little bit and generate some interest. Emotions are powerful, after all! So if you’re looking for people to look at your edits, intrigue them with emotion, with thoughts too.

5) Resharing

A smaller tip, but sometimes reblogging your edits at certain times of the day is a good idea too! Don’t over-share it, but reblogging your post for the night bloggers is good – because someone’s night is someone else’s day. :D Sharing it for certain groups of people on your blog is a good idea, so that way, people from around the world won’t have to browse through a bunch of posts from the time they were sleeping until now. So it couldn’t hurt to reblog your edits every now and then. To let the night and day people look, and even to get your new followers to check out the stuff you do as well!

So there’s some tips from me about how you might be able to get your gifs out there and stuff, but remember, dear anon: You are talented in your own unique way! That in itself is amazing self-validation, and it’s really important to have that! 

Keep on making edits and being great, okay? Thumbs up to you! :DD