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frobinfandays · 3 months

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What is a Creative Common lisence?

Hello everyone! I want to thank the three people who submitted themes to use in #FRobinMonth24

Even if it's only three answers I am so thankful! That really helps a lot because it means I have to pull up way fewer idea.

That being said I asked for inspirational fotos and one answered, that they don't understand creative common licensing.

Which is fine! It is not easy to understand.

So, I decided to write a little text about copyright and license and the usage of certain things online.

Please be aware that I am no lawyer and that copyright might be different from country to country. I also don't guarantee that everything I wrote here is 100% correct!!

More under the read more (sorry to mobile users).

What is copyright?

As Wikipedia puts it:

A copyright is a type of intellectual property that gives the creator of an original work, or another owner of the right, the exclusive, legally secured right to copy, distribute, adapt, display, and perform a creative work, usually for a limited time. The creative work may be in a literary, artistic, educational, or musical form. Copyright is intended to protect the original expression of an idea in the form of a creative work, but not the idea itself. A copyright is subject to limitations based on public interest considerations, such as the fair use doctrine in the United States.

A copyright is an intellectual property. This paragraph I copied from Wikipedia is the intellectual property of the wikipedia editor who wrote it. They have the copyright to it. But the "Text is available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License 4.0;" (CC BY-SA 4.0).

And we'll get into what that means later. (Also I quote it and linked back to the source)

So, Copyright... Oda created One Piece and gave Shūeisha the "copyright" to print it in the Shonen Jump Magazine, basically giving them the right to copy it.

And legally created merch of One Piece is licensed. And the manufacturers bought that license.

Which is why fan-zines that are sold for profit are in a very, very, very grey zone. I don't think ayone within that community is actually allowed to sell those or the merch. Even the charity zines are in a grey area but not as much as the for profit ones. In some countries selling fanart (even commissions) is illegal. The only reason that the big names don't go after those zines is because they are aware that it's good publicity and the "profit" is too small. Also they often don't know about it. Still, be aware of the risks!

On a much lower scale, if you go to any Stock website, you can buy licenses for most of the photos to use. This is mostly used in professional context because you can't just go online, search for a picture, take it and use it in an billion dollar ad campaign or something else. If the creator finds that and gets angry, it can get very expensive.

Or that is the theory, otherwise there wouldn't be so many illegal copies of all kinds of websites like Shein. (Which is the other side of the coin)

And while these rich companies should actually buy the right to use designs, pictures, and other intellectual property, there are a lot of poor artists and they also need pictures and inspiration.

So, what is Creative Commons (CC)?

Creative Commons is the nonprofit behind the open licenses and other legal tools that allow creators to share their work.

Creative Commons is a way for artists to share their work but to add limitations too with a simple code.

The text I had in the form for the submission to the FRobin month was the following.

Please feel free to submit/link a picture prompt (a photo you have taken yourself or which has the correct common license: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/). (CC BY, CC BY-SA, CC BY-NC or CC BY-NC-SA)

Of course a picture of yours that you submit, you allow to be used in a creative way in a fanwork or to be an inspiration for fellow artists.

I also want to encourage people to use the picture prompts within the artwork too. For example in a manipulation, animation, collage.

In theory to do that legally I asked for your own pictures or links to pictures that are shared with the creative common licenses of BY, BY-SA, BY-NC or BY-NC-SA.

There is a total of six common licenses but those four are important for this very case. Why?

CC BY This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format, so long as attribution is given to the creator. The license allows for commercial use. CC BY includes the following elements: BY: credit must be given to the creator.

-> With other words the medium (song, picture, video, etc...) can be used in any imaginable way. You are even allowed to sell or earn money with what you created, as long as the original creator is credited.

CC BY-SA This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format, so long as attribution is given to the creator. The license allows for commercial use. If you remix, adapt, or build upon the material, you must license the modified material under identical terms. CC BY-SA includes the following elements: BY: credit must be given to the creator. SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms.

-> The medium (song, picture, video, etc...) can be used in any imaginable way. You are even allowed to sell what you created, as long as the original creator is credited.

PLUS the thing you created is also allowed to be used in the same way, so someone else can use it in any imaginable way, is allowed to sell it as long as they credit you.

CC BY-NC This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator. CC BY-NC includes the following elements: BY: credit must be given to the creator. NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.

-> The medium (song, picture, video, etc...) can be used in any imaginable way, as long as the original creator is credited.

BUT you are not allowed to sell it or earn money with it!

CC BY-NC-SA This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator. If you remix, adapt, or build upon the material, you must license the modified material under identical terms. CC BY-NC-SA includes the following elements: BY: credit must be given to the creator. NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted. SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms.

-> The medium (song, picture, video, etc...) can be used in any imaginable way, as long as the original creator is credited. You are not allowed to sell it or earn money with it.

PLUS the thing you created is also allowed to be used in the same way, so someone else can use it in any imaginable way, as long as you are credited. But it can be used to be sold it or earned money with.

---

There are two more licenses that don't allow the change of the medium, which is why I decided to not include them.

Now, looking back the Wiki-quote and actually all of Wikipeida is shared with the CC BY-SA license. You are allowed to quote from Wikipedia in any paper you want as long as people are allowed to quote within the same license. With other words if you are now having a discussion about

Now, since this is a fandom blog, I want to take a short look at fanart and fanfiction.

Legality of fanworks

Fanart and fanfiction is most of the time running within the legality of "Fair use" (again Wikipedia) and likewise laws within each country. (So again, check within your own countries texts within the copyright laws.)

Fair use is a doctrine in United States law that permits limited use of copyrighted material without having to first acquire permission from the copyright holder. Fair use is one of the limitations to copyright intended to balance the interests of copyright holders with the public interest in the wider distribution and use of creative works by allowing as a defense to copyright infringement claims certain limited uses that might otherwise be considered infringement.

I can't find right now the exact quote but the overall understand is that as long as you don't sell your fanworks, based on copyrighted works you can always claim fair use if someone tries to sue you.

Which is why Ao3 has it in their TOS that you are not allowed to post advertisement. (Explaination) You are not allowed to link to your Ko-Fi or ask for commissions or donations.

Because then you might not be able to claim fair use and Ao3 as the hosting website can't either.

And again this goes back to the fan-zines, fanarts and also fanfictions that might be sold for profit.

To read more on the topic, Wikipedia's, Legal issues with fan fiction sure is a source but so is fanlore's, Fandom and Profit.

Sorry for the long text. I hope you have a good day!

(x)

#not FRobin #Fandom #creative commons #Fanwork #Fanart #Fanfiction #modpost #Legal stuff #Copyright law is messy and complicated #but it's good to have at least a basic understanding #Sorry but I had to share those sandals #They are art #Goncharov-esque

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toxicmetalpress · 2 years

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🖤 BLACK FRIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA 🖤

We have all kinds of fantastic new products up in the store.

🖤 STICKERS 🖤

We have a new sticker from our wonderful Michael, and two stickers from our new artist who some of you may already know and love, @girls--complex featuring some heavenly creatures.

🖤 ZINES 🖤

Check out the TMP Sampler Pack, featuring three zines from UGLYGIRLSWAG, Ari S. Mulch, and Michael Kay. "Pics" by UGLYGIRLSWAG features color photos of the artist's favorite books, prints, and paintings. Learn about the wonders of trepanning in Ari S. Mulch's "A Catgirl's Guide to Trepanation"

🖤 GOING WODWO COLLECTOR'S EDITION 🖤

Our first ever collector's edition features the first two issues of Ari S. Mulch's nuclear gothic epic, "Going Wodwo." Order the two books together and get a free reproduction of a copper plate etching.

And from all of us here at TMP, we would like to give a big thank you to everyone who has bought books and shared our posts in our first month being open. We're so excited for what the future holds and to show all of you what we have planned.

#toxic metal press #black friday #small press #zines #stickers

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spacecapart · 3 years

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EDIT (6th May): Sorry folks, I’m afraid I’ve had to take down the Discworld stuff from my online shop due to a copyright claim. So the zine is no longer available to buy, but you can still see all the art from it on my blog. Thanks to everyone who bought one while they were available!

It’s Terry Pratchett’s birthday today (happy birthday, sir, you were one of the good ones), so I thought I’d promo my Discworld zine! 50p from the sale of each zine goes directly to Alzheimer’s Research UK in honour of the man himself, and the rest goes towards supporting a queer, autistic artist (i.e. me) currently struggling in the absence of cons.

The zine includes 32 illustrations of characters from the City Watch books, from big names like Vimes and Vetinari to one or two book wonders like Sally and A.E. Pessimal and beyond! You can find all of them in my Discworld tag, but if you’re interested in owning them yourself in high quality A6 zine format, check my blog (or the notes) for the link to my online shop!

(Where you can also find other Discworld merch, including prints and button badges, but I’ll let you discover those for yourself...)

#Terry Pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #discworld art #samuel vimes #personal stuff

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swanpyart · 3 years

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The Short Lived Adventures of RAPH and Casey Jones

This is an old pic that was made for a zine that was never published. So I’ll leave it here. It might not ever be finished, but I think the story is decent enough on its own.

Part 1:

Casey was completely fine by herself.

Sure, her parents never really paid her any mind, but she never needed them to; Casey was a fast learner, and was able to cook, clean, and do pretty much anything the adults could do.

“Look!” Ten-year-old Casey held up an English vocabulary test, with an “100%” written in the corner in cursive. “I passed!”

“Honey,” her mother barely looked at her from her seat at her desk, “One hundred percent is the bare minimum. Anything less means you practically failed.”

There was always an empty space in the bleachers whenever Casey had a hockey game. She would cross her arms as she waited for her parents to pick her up and watched as the people in the audience rushed down and hugged their own children after a game, regardless of whether they won or lost. When her parents finally showed up, she sat in the car quietly as they drove.

Casey spent almost everyday after school at her Granny’s while her parents were at work. The old woman’s house was always warm, mostly because she was always baking; cakes, cookies, and especially her famous brownies - made with a special ingredient.

At twelve years old, Casey had failed a math test for the first time, and burst into tears as she walked through her Granny’s front door. “I’m a failure!”

“Sweetie, everyone fails every now and then,” her Granny wiped a tear from Casey’s cheek and got out an antique mixing bowl, “but I can tell you tried really hard. That’s what matters; that you don’t stop trying your best.”

Afterwards, Casey and her Granny spent the afternoon baking brownies, and that was when she was granted the knowledge of the secret ingredient. She swore her secrecy and never told anyone.

Of course, that was a while ago; her grandmother had passed away sometime afterwards. Her parents reacted with more emotion when Casey had shaved her head than when they attended the funeral.

They also seemed only mildly surprised when, at thirteen years old, Casey was accepted into the Foot Clan and never came back home.

There, Casey promised to herself to show the world just how much of a not-failure she really is! Even if she had to work with the most vile Clan in all the world to achieve it and release the Shredder, the ultimate evil, unto the world. She had worked above and beyond to get where she is, and no one could stop her!

At least, that’s what she thought before the Shredder disappeared, and with him, the Clan’s purpose. And way before those strange, overgrown turtles with no sense of honor or discipline showed up and destroyed their chances, time and time again.

Suddenly, the group she had worked with since she was a preteen, and the closest thing she had to any family, were dragged away by outside obligations she never understood.

Foot Brute and Lieutenant were better parents than her own, but, in the end, they were her bosses and coworkers, and no replacement for a family.

Sure, everyone else may have given up, but she would stay committed to the Clan’s ultimate vision, even if she had to use her dear Granny’s recipe for evil. Grandma CJ’s Brownies were an absolute bust, but she had to try something.

Then, she met this weird, giant, smelly rat with a Japanese accent dressed like a teenager who somehow turned out to be the father of those overgrown turtles.

And, as weird as it was, despite not even being human, he sat next to her and heard what she had to say; and, for those few minutes, it was almost like being next to her Granny again.

“Just because you failed doesn’t make you a failure.”

If she had been smarter, maybe she should have listened a bit harder to what he was saying. If she had been smarter, maybe she would have calmed down and talked to the girl that was beating up the Girl Scouts. There were so many opportunities to just talk.

But then the Shredder was restored, and she really thought it would be the return of her Clan’s glory. Even as she looked at the beaten down forms of her previous bosses. Even as she saw Splinter and his family struggling for their lives. Even as she realized winning would mean the end of everything, including her.

There was no more Clan. She was still alone. She was just alone with a giant evil suit of demon armor.

But, now, she wasn’t.

Even after everything, Splinter offered her an invitation into their...

Family.

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He had invited her to the lair a few weeks after the fight with Shredder.

“I’m working at the Foot Shack. After my former clan disbanded, they got bought out by another company, Splinter, sir.” She squeezed the mug of tea in her hands.

“Just ‘Splinter’ is fine,” Splinter had opened a bag of chips, and was reclining in his seat. The turtles were out with April at the arcade, taking a break from repairing the lair. “Where are you staying? Do you have a place to live?”

“Yes, I actually have my own apartment.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Splinter sighed. “Listen, Casey, I know that it’s probably hard having to... uh, sort things out by yourself-”

“What?! No, I’m fine!” She flapped her hand dismissively. “My life is fantastic! It’s definitely not in complete shambles after losing everything I know.” She blinked, realizing that she overshared, and collected herself. “I’m doing great.”

“I-I never said it was in shambles,” He massaged his temple with two clawed fingers, his beady eyes squinting in frustration. “Look, all I am saying is that, if you ever need help, or if you ever get lonely and just want to talk, I am here. And my sons would probably say the same thing. You’re a Hamato now, at least in spirit.”

Casey’s eyes widened, then she looked down. “Thank you, but I’m a very independent person. I’ll be sure to not bug you unless it’s an emergency.”

Splinter nodded, but he’d dealt with enough children to see that Casey was a bit lonely. Still, he said nothing.

For a good while, Casey stuck to what she said; she didn’t really come by the lair unless she really felt the need to or if they needed an extra set of hands with repairing.

But… occasionally, she found herself asking questions. She found out Michelangelo loved cooking, and somehow he got her to agree to bake her Granny’s brownies together. She realized that Leonardo wasn’t just annoying in battle, but all the time, and that she started getting more and more used to it, even occasionally laughing along. She found out while playing video games with them, that Donnatello was just as vicious as her, and that April was equally as competitive.

And Raph, well… they didn’t talk very much. But he seemed nice every time they spoke.

But she kept her distance. After all, it was better if she didn’t get too attached.

She occasionally goes down to the local hockey rink and plays a few rounds with total strangers, and usually gets kicked out due to a combo of delinquent children and complaining parents.

So, here she is, lying on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, with a half eaten sandwich laying on her chest, and old sweatpants that she’s been wearing for a week because her clothes are in the laundromat. For a ninja-slash-ex-cult-member, her life had fallen into a fairly mundane pattern.

Everything could always be worse. So why did she still feel like such a failure?

And for some reason, Casey found herself at the sewer grate. She didn’t even know why she came here, really.

She was about to turn back when a feminine voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

She spun around. It was April.

“I was just coming to visit.” Casey tensed up. She hadn’t expected to run into someone else.

“Oh, me too!” She opened up the grate, and started climbing down the ladder. “You coming or what?”

Casey gulped. She couldn’t back out now.

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Raph paced the lair, quietly groaning as he tapped his chin.

It had been about six months since the fight with Shredder, but another challenge had presented itself; cleaning up the lair after it had been almost completely demolished. Thankfully, with Draxum’s help and Donnie being able to scavenge some old tech that didn’t get destroyed and whip up some devices for reconstruction, the place was finally fixed up after about a month and a half.

Now what? Well, in Leo’s words, it was the time for “rest and relaxation.”

That was pretty easy for the rest of his family to do.

Leo’s entire existence hinged on “rest and relaxation”; Mikey has an assortment of hobbies to keep him busy; Donnie had a tight schedule trying to repair all of his broken inventions; April was trying to adjust to all of the changes at school due to all of New York recovering from the recent Battle Nexus catastrophe; and Splinter, of course, was parked in front of the TV, finally at peace after the Shredder was defeated, and helping himself to milk and cake.

Raph should be relaxing, or at least recovering from all that’s happened to them. The fight with the Shredder was the most stressful and terrifying time of their lives. They lost their Gram-Gram, and even if she was now able to rest with their ancestors and her father, it still stung.

But it’s been such a long time since he’s been in a real fight, and he can tell he’s going a little bit stir-crazy.

Of course, the turtles would spend a lot of time out of the lair; but whenever Raph gets a call on the phone, he finds himself hoping it’s some kind of an emergency, only to turn out to be Todd calling them about the puppy farm, or Leo pestering Senior Hueso with an order for pick-up. It seemed like even their strongest enemies have gone on hiatus as well; there was no word of Big Mama as of late, and every other major bad guy they fought recently seemed to have been exhausted by the Shredder ordeal as well.

Raph’s usual sparring partner, Frankenfoot, is absolutely wonderful, but fighting him wasn’t exactly what Raph had in mind; it was fun, but couldn’t really be compared to the thrill of a real fight.

“Come on, guys,” Raph stood in front of the screen, blocking Leo and Mikey’s view of a Jupiter Jim rerun while Pops was passed out on the couch, snoring, a bag of chips lying open on his stomach. “We’ve been cooped up in the lair for a million years. Who wants to go wreck some bad guys?” He pounded his fist in his opposite hand for emphasis.

“Raph, I can’t see!” Mikey waved his hand in a dismissive way as he said it, and leaned to peek around his older brother and continue watching the screen.

“Ugh, we’ve been over this,” Leo exasperated from his spot on the ground, on his stomach and his head resting on his propped arms. “No crime fighting while we’re on vacation! This is the time to chillax, my guy.”

“How long are we gonna be chillaxing, exactly?” Raph put his hands on his hips, an inquisitive look on his face, even if, deep down, he knew what response he’d get.

“I don’t know, until some other crazy evil mutant guy tries to take over the city? There’s bound to be another one of those eventually.”

“What, so we just wait until some evil mastermind has some evil plan and gets all of New York in their evil clutches? It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Raph tried to summon the energy he usually exudes when he attempts to make a rousing speech, but the rolling eyes and groans from his youngest brothers quickly made its effect futile.

“You know,” Donnie said from the back of the room, the other three having not noticed him walk in, “We did, oh, I don’t know, save all of New York City, take down Big Mama’s Battle Nexus scheme, and, most importantly, defeat our bloodline’s greatest enemy?!”

Raph furrowed his brow, his sharp fang digging into his lower lip.

“We deserve an indefinite break, and I need it, because I actually refuse to do any fighting until I have all my stuff back online. I’d love to fight with only my impeccable mind, but let’s be realistic.” The sandwich in his hand was brought to his face and he swallowed it whole. Donnie knew he had made an excellent point.

“Don’t worry,” Mikey beamed, tucking his arms and legs into his shell, “We’ll get back into the groove of things before you know it!”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, “Think of it as, like, you know, self-care. Sometimes, you need a break from what you’re used to. Now, can you move out of the way?”

Raph sulked out of his siblings’ view of the screen and sunk into a beanbag, next to the couch their father was snoring in.

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“Hey, guys!” The turtles turn around to see April and... Foot Recruit walk in.

Raph didn’t really know what to think of Foot Recruit, or Casey, as she preferred to be called. Pops insisted that she wasn’t dangerous anymore, but it was hard for him not to be a little wary; I mean, come on, she used to work with the Shredder!

She’d been over only a handful of times over the past few months, usually to speak with Splinter and Mikey.

“Casey! April!” Mikey stuck his hands out of his shell in joy. He ran over and hugged them both. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Apes. And, hi to you too, Casey.” Leo kicked his legs up behind him.

“Above ground has been pretty hectic,” April leaned on Donnie’s shoulder as she spoke, “Everyone has been freaking out about disappearing from New York for a few days. Relaxing on a yacht sure beats coming back to the city in shambles. And finding another job is so hard when everyone’s paranoid we’re gonna all disappear again. Ugh, I wish we did, then I’d get another break!”

“Well, if you want a job, you can help me repair what’s left of my s- I mean, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The Shredder tore him apart.” Donnie put his hands on his hips and relaxed his posture to cover his slip-up.

“Aw, your cute robot son isn’t repaired yet?” April teased.

As the two bickered while walking towards the lab, Raph looked back at Casey, who was standing by the entrance, visibly tense.

“Hey, Casey. Um, why are you here?” Raph asked innocently, not realizing how rude he sounded.

“Smooth,” Leo chimed in unhelpfully.

Before he could take it back, Casey spoke, with a glare on her face. “I’m here for the orange one.”

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re gonna bake brownies!” Mikey clarified, his chest puffed out with pride. “Casey decided that I’m worthy of learning an old family recipe.”

“Yes!” Casey grinned, in a way that was far too menacing for someone talking about brownies. “I decided that, as a new member of your- um…” clan? Group? Committee?

“...Family?” Raph assisted.

“Uh, yes, that,” she turned shy for a few brief seconds, only to return to her previous bravado, pumping her fist in the air, “I will honor you with the knowledge of my grandmother’s most nefarious secret!”

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Raph peeked into the kitchen as Mikey and Casey got to work. Of course, he trusted Mikey; but he had a hunch that Casey might be up to something.

Or maybe the boredom was just making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

Dirty dishes, half-full cups and brownie mix were strewn about the kitchen counter. Whatever this recipe pertained, it must be pretty intense.

“And, now, for the final ingredient. This one was given to me by my grandmother.” Casey pulled a canister of brown powder. She leaned over and whispered close to Mikey’s head. Whatever she was saying, Raph couldn’t hear.

Mikey gasped. “PUMPKIN SPICE?!”

Casey shushed him, then yelled herself. “It’s a secret, remember?!” She poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl full of batter.

The two of them looked so happy baking together, and Raph felt a pit of guilt in his stomach for assuming the worst. He really needed to chill out.

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“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Leo sunk into the bean bag chair, “You’re a fan of Lou Jitsu, right?”

“That is correct.” Casey was sitting stiffly in her seat. Her expressions were intense, like she was about to strangle someone, but Raph had realized pretty quickly that this was just her default.

“You have all of the movies memorized?”

“Of course! I used his guidelines for self improvement in my schemes to take over the world! I mean, that’s not really relevant now, but-”

“And you said you spend almost all of your available money on Lou Jitsu merch?”

“I hide them all so my guests don’t see.”

“And, yet, you’ve never watched a Jupiter Jim film? The Jupiter Jim, his longtime franchise rival and co-star in Jupiter Jim Vs Lou Jitsu?” Leo clutched at his chest, as he held up the DVD case of the movie he was talking about for emphasis.

“Leo,” Raph warned, looking up from his phone, “don’t make her feel bad-”

Leo chuckled. “Oh ho ho, trust me I won’t. I’m definitely putting on a Jupiter Jim Vs. The Galaxy Riders Part 1 and Part 2, and you are going to love it!”

Casey cackled ominously. “You really think this ‘Jupiter Jim-’” She made quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis, “-can measure up to the greatness that is Lou Jitsu? Fine, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Raph ended up dozing off after the fifth film, and woke up to see Casey and his brother still openly debating whether Lou Jitsu would beat Jupiter Jim if they were both in a desert completely unarmed and at full strength.

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“I’m not scared of much,” Donnie mentions offhandedly one day, while Raph was doing a bicep curl, “but she -”

He points to Casey eating a sandwich like a hyena, while April sat next to her, texting.

“She terrifies me to no end.”

Donnie’s strange relationship with their new friend took Raph a while to comprehend. Then it became clear as day. If anyone could match Casey in moral ambiguity, it was his immediate younger brother.

“I made you a little gift,” the softshell grinned smugly, as he handed Casey what looked like a metal hockey stick.

“Oh, um,” Casey's eyes were wide, and a little watery, and her lips were in a warbly smile. “Thank you… no one’s ever given me something so nice.”

Donnie grinned. “Press the button on the side.”

When she did, the widest end of the hockey stick flipped open like a lighter, and a stream of fire shot out of the tip. Casey’s tears of joy gave way to maniacal laughter. “Those kids at the hockey rink won’t know what hit ‘em!”

Donnie joined her in glee, his eyes and teeth shining menacingly in the light of the flames. Raph watched in mild horror (He was plenty used to Donnie’s antics), at least until the fire alarm sounded and they were all drenched from the sprinklers.

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Another month had passed since Casey started coming around, and Raph seemed like the only one in the lair who hadn’t quite jived with her yet. Sure, his suspicion had pretty much subsided, and he liked her company plenty, but the two of them hadn’t really clicked.

However, he noticed some slight changes over time. Casey’s eyes had bags under them which were more obvious in brighter lights, and sometimes she fell asleep on April’s shoulder (and snored louder than his Pops, somehow). Sometimes, there were hints of sadness on her face, even when she was laughing along with everyone.

Raph didn’t mention it for fear of being rude, but he couldn’t help his concern. After all, if she was upset, she probably wouldn’t mention to him all of the people.

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Hockey wasn’t a sport Raph and his brothers knew much about, but he couldn’t help but get excited as Casey gushed about it, holding tightly onto the treasured tech-hockey stick Donnie had gifted her, wearing a huge grin on her face.

The two humans and four turtles (disguised as humans, of course) were just entering the hockey rink. The hall to the auditorium was cold and echoey.

“I come here every other Friday. The regulars here know my face, and they fear it. It’s ‘cause they know I’ll decimate everyone in my path!” She pumped her fist as she spoke, a sinister grin on her face, before she caught herself and straightened out. “Well, I do until the rink’s supervisors kick me out for making a scene and being mean to children.”

“Don’t sweat it, Casey,” Donnie spoke up, “You’re not the only one whose been kicked out of establishments for scaring kids.”

“Uh huh, exactly!” April agreed a bit too eagerly, and Raph looked back to see the distant, traumatized look in her eyes, and he could tell she was remembering the screams of children and the sinister laughter of animatronics at a certain pizza joint.

The six teens got to the rink’s auditorium, and put their bags down on the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around.

Mikey whistled. “This place is massive!”

As Raph put on a maroon hoodie and pulled on his skates, Casey rolled onto the rink, over to a huddle of teenagers wearing hockey gear. “Hey!”

One of the teenagers - a boy with messy brown hair covering his eyes - responded. “Oh, you again. Guys, look, it’s that crazy girl from last week.”

“The name is Cassandra Jones!” Casey pulled down the hockey mask she was wearing and held up her stick. “I’m challenging you to another round! Did you really think you’d escape my wrath?!”

The kids started laughing. “You challenge us every time we’re here, and you always lose. What makes today so different?”

Casey laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’ve got my own team now, so you better get ready to go crying to your mommy!”

The group hadn’t stopped laughing, even as Casey walked back to the bleachers. Raph raised a brow. “Uh, what was all of that?”

She looked down. “Those are my enemies,” She clenched her fists, “A group of jerks who manage to beat me every time I come here.”

Raph paused for a second. The look on her face was determined, but had a hint of sadness to it. Raph understood how she felt; wanting to fight, but getting beaten down time and time again. He’d realized a while ago that he didn’t have to do it alone; and neither did she.

Raph put an arm around Casey’s shoulders, and cupped a hand to his mouth, shouting to the teenagers from across the rink. “Hey, knuckleheads! You get ready for a match; you’re not just dealing with Cassandra Jones anymore! you’re dealing with the Mad Dogs, now!”

“Yeah, right!” One of the kids, a girl with a ponytail, shouts back.

He turned to face his brothers and April, who were sitting on the bleachers, their attention already on Raph from his shouting. “Hey, those guys over there are saying we’re gonna lose! What do we say to that?!”

“Oh ho ho, I like this energy!” Leo stood up on the bleachers, joining in the hype. April and Mikey stood up beside him.

“Yeah, you chumps aren’t even at our level!”

“Ya’ll ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Donnie stood up slowly, his arms crossed from the cold. “Yeah, we’ll definitely beat you! But-” He switched to his normal volume, “let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Raph dismissed him, and looked at Casey, who was smiling. Together, they were able to beat the Shredder. This would be a piece of cake.

------------------------------------------------------

“Are we done? My mom is here to pick me up,” One of the kids, a girl with pigtails, mentioned as she walked towards her belongings on the bleachers.

Raph was gasping for air from his spot on the cold ground. Hockey was hard. Like, really, really hard.

In hindsight, their loss made sense; this was the turtles and April’s first time playing hockey, and even Casey, who’d been playing since she was a kid, wasn’t able to beat these kids. They really were just that good.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Leo had fallen in front of the goal, two huge purple bruises visible on his face; one on his forehead, and the other under his eye, popping out from his green skin and red birthmarks.

Mikey was crying on his knees, while April patted his shell, cussing out one of the kids who she felt pushed him too hard. Even as the kid was walking away. “And another thing-”

Donnie lay flat nearby, looking like a purple stain on the white shiny floor. He was never good at sports, but he tried. Geez, it was almost more embarrassing, with just how hard he tried.

------------------------------------------------------

They found a vending machine, and after Raph gave Leo a cold soda can to hold over his bruises, he walked past Casey, sitting with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked around to see if the others were watching. April, Mikey and Donnie were going off about losing the match, while Leo sat dejectedly in the corner, nursing his injuries. “Are you alright?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and her lower lip wobbling. She hastily rubbed at her face with her sleeve, her eyeliner smearing. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“Is this about us losing?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She sighed. “It’s a lot of different things- It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Raph sat down next to her on the bleacher. He realized this had definitely been bubbling up for a while. If only he’d talked to her sooner.

“Ugh, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a success. Taking over the world was everything for me- helping the Foot, working for the Shredder, making that whole brownie pyramid-scheme. But now? I don’t have anything. I’ve hit rock bottom. Now, I’m stuck in a stupid rivalry with a bunch of kids in a hockey rink.”

She began to cry again. “What am I going to do? Am I just doomed to be a failure?”

“Just ‘cause you’re not taking over the world doesn’t make you a failure. Most people just stick to regular, everyday stuff and they turn out fine.”

“It’s not just about taking over the world,” Casey sighed. “I don’t have a purpose. No Clan, no commitments, no future. It’s like everything I do is a failure. I’m a failure.”

Raph felt himself start to tear up, too. What she was saying felt way too familiar. “You’re not the only one whose failed.”

“Huh?”

“My Pops told us we were supposed to die in order to protect the Dark Armor. We failed to do that, but we realized how messed up that was, and we decided to do our own thing. And it totally worked out for us, ‘cause we ended up destroying Shred-face once and for all.”

He stood, wiping the small tears from the corners of his eyes. “Think about it. So what that you don’t got a purpose? I get it, but your ‘purpose’ was handed to you by those Foot-faces. What do you wanna do? What do you wanna succeed at?”

Casey sat quietly for a few moments, thinking, and Raph feared that he might have said something hurtful. He was never as savvy with people as Leo or Mikey.

Then she spoke. “I spent all of my life trying to be the best, even if it meant being the biggest bad guy in the world. Now, I want to be the best good guy!”

Her expression softened. “I guess what I really want - I want to stop people who were like me once. I want to stop evil people who want to control others. But...how?”

Raph thought. Then, an idea struck him. “You and me can team up!”

“For what?”

“I was a vigilante for a little while. I mean, I used to be, but I guess since I was already part of a team, and with the whole Shredder thing, I just sort of stopped. But, since my bros are on hiatus, you and me could fight crime undercover!”

Casey was looking at her lap, her head bowed. Raph cleared his throat. “I mean, only if you wanna, it’s just a suggestion-”

“That sounds amazing.” Casey looked up at him in awe, her dark eyes glossy with unshed tears. Suddenly, she stands up, and pumps a fist into the air. “Raph and Casey, the most feared vigilante duo in all of New York!”

“Yeah, Go big or go home!” Raph pounded his fist into his other hand in excitement.

“Oh me gosh, stop yelling!” The two look behind them to Leo, still holding the can to his face. He turned in the direction of his twin. “Donnie, get me another can! This one’s warm!”

Casey was giving him a big smile, a far cry from her previous mood. Raph smiled back. Finally, he’d be able to go out and fight crime again; and this time, he wouldn’t be at it alone.

#rottmnt #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #rottmnt Casey jones #rottmnt casey #rottmnt foot recruit #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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arotechno · 3 years

Text

voidpunk, or something like that

Now that it has officially been released, I am thrilled to share the piece that I wrote for the @aspecjournal! It was an honor to work on this project, and I want to thank the mods, my fellow contributors, and everyone else involved with the production of this zine for their hard work! Thanks to everyone who bought it, too, for your support of us and the Trevor Project!

It’s impossible to know how big the universe really is, or if there’s life on other planets, another world of people just like us orbiting some distant star. The best scientific estimates suggest there are about as many stars in the observable universe as there are individual grains of sand on the planet Earth, a number so unfathomably large it may as well be infinite. So it would only stand to reason, you think, that somewhere between here and the edge of time itself there must be someone out there for you, some living soul whose heart beats in time with yours.

But space is mostly empty, and anything or anyone out there exists on a scale of distance and time so impossibly vast that there may as well be nothing.

Sometimes, you think your heart must be something like that, like a bottomless cup that can never be filled. “Broken,” they call you. Empty, lonely, sad. Sometimes, you think they must be right, that if someone were to carve a hole in your chest, they’d only be swallowed by the empty expanse where a heart should be. It’s a funny sort of irony: despite all the infinite space, there is no one who can fit inside it.

But despite its hollowness, all things in the universe are connected, linked together in an endless tug of war that began billions upon billions of years ago. Somehow, in all the emptiness, you are here, made up, like all things, of the remnants of stars gone supernova in a time immemorial. The universe does not know you, and yet it cradles you in its palm, an intricate, fleeting amalgamation of stardust, here long enough to live a life but never long enough to know why.

Some nights, when the skies are clear and your thoughts considerably less so, you look out at the stars and try to fathom them into some discernible pattern amongst the haze of the city lights. The constellations are only imaginary pictures on an inky canvas, and the paths others have set out for you are only false constructions of social pressures. You try to trace their shape across the night sky, but you find no picket fence, no happy home with spouse and kids shining back down at you. You wonder whether when other people look up at the stars, they see something more meaningful reflected in their image. You only see tiny pinpricks of light. You do not know how to pretend.

Our own Sun is mostly ordinary, an average star whose demise will know no fanfare, should anyone be around to see it. Humans are much the same, a strikingly ordinary miracle of cosmic happenstance, each of us made out of the same nothing. But in a universe with no limits, you too are limitless, not bound to the confines that others try to place around you, an ever-expanding eternity with no definable edge. You hold your own universe inside you, an infinity within an infinity, something born out of nothing. And so you will save your own soul, trace your own destiny amongst the stars, in spite of the seemingly endless empty space that stretches between them.

Many stars are part of binary systems, orbiting one another in perpetuity. Other stars, like our Sun, formed on their own and will stay that way for eternity. Perhaps, somewhere out there in the immeasurable universe, there may even be a star without any planets to call it home, burning on its own for billions of years, even if no one is there to see it. But that star, like all things, is part of a cosmic tapestry held together by an invisible glue that we cannot see. So perhaps you, like that star, were not made to orbit in tandem. Perhaps you were made to forge your own path through the universe. But even the loneliest stars, like all things, are made of the same dust, never to be swallowed by the empty space that surrounds them. You are alive, and you are whole, because you are here, now, against all odds. So go forth, you exuberant star, and shine as you see fit, even if others do not know how to name your shape in the sky.

Can you feel it?

You are not truly alone. You never were.

#aspec journal #aro #aromantic #aspec #writing #op

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inoshikachozine · 2 years

Text

April 11th, 2022: Hello everyone! For this second biweekly update announcement we have big news!

🐗 We opened preorders yesterday!

🦌Our shop is open from April 10th to May 1st. You find a summary of all the bundles and additional information if you click here!

🦋You don’t want to waste time? Then follow this link to our shop to grab your copy today. Please read our disclaimers page carefully before purchasing!

🌸There are just 5 Deluxe Limited Bundles left! And a little reminder that the first 25 buyers of a Physical Bundle get an exclusive Early Bird Print!

✨Also our wonderful contributors and mods voted for a charity. We decided to donate all profits to Partners In Health, an organisation that brings health care to people living in poverty. For more information about their work have a look at their website !

👀 Are you interested in the previews by our contributors? Then have a look here on Tumblr or Twitter!

🐗Here you can find contributor lineup, the spotlights, and of course our guests!

🦌This is mod team behind the zine!

🦋Tomorrow we will have a special treat for you. So keep your eyes open for an update!

💐Any questions? Send an ask through our Tumblr asks here! And this ends this biweekly update! We want to thank everyone who already bought a copy of the zine and for your continued support 💗

To Navigate all our Team Meetings: 💐All

✨Twitter | Instagram | Carrd | Asks | Contributor Spotlights✨

✨✨ Reblogs are highly appreciated!

@atozines @fandomzines @zineapps @zinefeed @zinefans @zineforall @zine-scene @faneventshub @all-zine-apps @zinefans @welovezines @eufanzines

#inoshikachozine #naruto zines #beyond a bond #announcement #updates #preorders are open #inoshikacho #team 10 #team asuma #team moegi #naruto #boruto next generations #team meetings

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

A/N: Soooo this started as like, a general headcanon list, but it's probably going to be a series, maybe 1-5 more parts IDK

* I’ll say it now, and I’ll say it again -

* This is the only boy who truly deserves and appreciates all that you offer as a writer

* 100% meets you through his job

* He’s a manga editor, but he’s always loitering around the literature department hoping he might get shifted over there in the next performance evaluation

* Plus it doesn’t hurt that he’s made some friends here

* Anyway he’s hanging around, chatting with some of the team members and you walk by

* It’s not like, instant attraction or anything

* Don’t get it twisted, he thinks you’re cute- anyone with eyes could see that

* It’s something gentler than attraction

* It sort of like, feeling a gentle gust of wind on a warm day

* Like his soul just sighed and thought

* “oh so this is what you were waiting for”

* He watches you disappear into one of the conference rooms before turning to his colleagues

* “Who is that?”

* “Them? They’re the new writer the boss scouted a while back”

* Akaashi nods like it’s nothing, but every so often his gaze lingers back to where he saw you disappear into that netting room

* Tbh he’s got the most tact probably

* 100% overthinks it, coming up with the most elaborate schemes you can imagine

* “Maybe if I wait around near the bathroom at exactly 9:30 I can “fake” run into them”

* For a second considers stalking you, like just a split second, to find the most favorable opportunity

* But immediately banishes the thought

* He probably ends up running into you on accident at the convenience store or something

* “You work at the publishing company right?” You say, and he can feel his face get hot

* “Yeah”

* Damn. He could only get one word out.

* But it doesn’t seem to deter you, because you smile wide

* “I feel like I’ve seen you around a lot at the office,” you say and stick your hand out introducing yourself

* Akaashi’s panicking

* Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

* HE GETS TO TOUCH YOUR HAND

* “I’m Akaashi Keiji” he responds

* Damn. Only three words. That makes a grand total of four

* No way you’re going to remember him with just four words

* “I work in the manga editorial division”

* Alright now it’s up to 11, that should be good-

* Oh crap

* Why’d he say that??

* You’re a serious writer in the literature division.

* You probably think it’s lame that he edits manga

* He’s about to say something to cover it up when you grab his hand in both of yours and look at him with star-studded eyes

* “Are you the Akaashi-san that edits “Girl’s World”?”

* He, in fact, is that same editor

* Things roll pretty smooth after that

* Even if you’re not a huge manga fan, that manga totally gets to you

* It’s a coming of age story with drama added in, but all the drama is relevant to issues teenagers face today

* It’s suuuuuper good, and the artwork is pretty

* You buy every issue and keep it in your house

* But you’ve been kicking yourself because last week you missed an event at a local store selling signed copies

* Now every time you look at your bookshelf you get depressed

* You feel awkward asking, especially since he’s probably got better things to do than do a rookie writer a favor

* But Akaashi doesn’t let you feel awkward for too long

* “It’s no big deal, I’ll see if I can have it for you the next time you stop by”

* “Thank you so much!”

* You exchange numbers and as you’re walking home you feel a little jittery

* When was the last time you exchanged numbers with a boy?

* You’re not blind, Akaashi’s pretty handsome too, the first time you saw him at the office you thought

* “Wow, so beautiful men can exist in any industry huh?”

* But even though he was so handsome- it didn’t feel nerve-wracking to talk to him like it would have someone else

* It almost felt...

* Comforting

* Like you were talking to an old friend

* “It would be nice if we could be friends for real,” you think, instead of this imaginary relationship you’ve dreamed up in your mind

* Of course life gets busy and you forget all about the fact that you met Akaashi or that he promised you a signed copy of that manga

* You’ve just gotten out of a rather bleak meeting with your editor

* You look at the manuscript in your hand, it’s basically torn up with red ink

* Did you do anything right? You think as you look through the notes

* Another sigh rips out of you- you’ve definitely got your work cut out for you if you’re going to meet this deadline

* You’re contemplating just starting over and completely rewriting it when you see a pair of shiny shoes enter your view

* You look up to see Akaashi with his eyebrows threaded together

* “Everything okay?”

* You don’t answer, instead you just hold out your “bleeding red” manuscript

* “Ah, I remember hearing Nanami-San saying you had your work cut out for you”

* Oh great, so everyone knows you suck

* Akaashi watches you sigh again, and takes a seat beside you in the lounge area

* Honestly, Akaashi thinks you’re really talented, so he doesn’t get why a few comments have gotten you feeling so down

* Truth be told, he actually got to read your manuscript too-

* Nanami was showing off a pretty cool passage of yours

* It was pretty good, some of your best work yet, he really liked it

* But he can also see where the editing comments are coming from

* The flow was off in some places, and there needed to be more subtext for clarity

* “Don’t get discouraged, you know the last issue of “Girl’s World” had to be re-written five times?”

* Your eyes are as wide as saucers and he laughs

* “It’s true, Fushiguro- Kun nearly strangled me by the end of it, but it was his best issue yet so he couldn’t”

* You nod, digesting the information and Akaashi feels pretty good, looks like he pulled you out of your slump

* “The author of “Girl’s World” is a man?”

* Oh crap.

* It’s not exactly a secret, everyone in the department knows that “wonder egg” is actually Megumi Fushiguro

* But Fushiguro is pretty sensitive about that kind of thing, so only a handful of people outside the department know about it.

* “Let’s just keep this a secret between you and me okay?” He says with a grin, and you feel your face grow warm

* You would quite literally help him bury a body if he asked

* “Here, consider it a thank you for keeping my secret,” he says rummaging through his bag, pulling out a can of coffee and a glossy book

* “It’s not a signed copy of “Girl’s World” but maybe you’ll like it,” he says with a soft smile, patting you on the head

* “Don’t get discouraged okay?”

* You feel butterflies in your stomach even after he’s gone, looking at the cold can of iced coffee and a shiny copy of a next month’s manga issue

* And oddly enough, they bring a smile to your face

* Akaashi sighs, looking into his bag to see another can of green tea and a signed copy of “Girl’s World”

* He grabbed the reference book by accident, but thought maybe that’s what you need right now

* But the coffee-

* Well that’s just cowardice really

* He bought two cans when he saw you this morning but decided against it when he saw how down you were

* And though maybe now wasn’t the best time to ask you to come to drink coffee with him on an impromptu half date

* “Half of love and relationships is timing after all “ he sighs, a hand threading through his hair.

* The other half is feelings

* And with the way you’re both feeling butterflies

* I promise you’ve got tons of those

#haikyuu imagine #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#akaashi headcanons #akaashi scenarios #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fanfiction #akaashi keiji imagine #akaashi keiji x you #superhero—imagines

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mari-onberry · 4 years

Text

Win-Win

For the Kagami Zine! @kagamizine

This was a collab with @landturtlealyce’s beautiful drawing

Also on Ao3

During fencing practice, Adrien could tell that Kagami was nervous. She wasn’t as quick on her feet as usual, and she seemed distracted by something. He knew her identity as Ryuko, and she knew his identity as Chat Noir, so he was sure there wasn’t much to be worried about on that front. Also, she wasn’t the type to let that sort of thing distract her. So, he approached her during break.

“Kagami, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Despite them dropping their romantic feelings for each other a while ago when Kagami started dating Marinette, he still worried about her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what it was she was going through.

She was a little startled at the question, since she had been stuck in her own head for so long. “I’m okay, it’s just family problems, I don’t want to inconvenience you with that.”

Adrien would’ve been a little hurt by that sentiment if he wasn’t so worried about her. “Kagami, you can talk to me about anything. And I’m probably the one person who can sympathize with you about family stuff.”

She gave in, realizing it would be better to tell him. She needed to talk to someone about it. “My mother wants me to go to that charity gala this weekend. And I’m fine with going, but she expects me to bring along a romantic partner. I would bring Marinette, but…” she didn’t finish her sentence, already a little caught up in her own head again.

“Bring me.” Adrien suggested almost immediately. “I know we aren’t dating, but we can pretend to be to get your mother off your back about it. Plus, it would probably make my father happy as well. Win-win.” He smiled reassuringly at her, hoping his suggestion would be a viable solution.

She pondered it for a moment, seemingly thinking through possible outcomes. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, then, “Yeah, that sounds good,” as she realized that it was her best choice right now. It even seemed like a fun idea, since it would be a good excuse to spend time with him. Plus, the Agreste family was invited to the gala as well, so he would be there anyway.

So, they planned it out, and Kagami was planning on telling her mom about it after practice when her mom picked her up. But once practice was over, they walked out together to see their parents talking. Gabriel had chosen this of all days to pick his son up from practice, which was a rare occurrence. “Father!” Adrien said, feigning excitement, a little worried.

“Son. How was practice?”

“It was fine,” Adrien answered, too preoccupied to elaborate. He started to make his way to the car before either of their parents could question them on their relationship. He didn’t want to lie, but he was willing to do it for Kagami’s sake. He just didn’t want to mess up their plans to tell their parents individually, since that seemed like the best way to not make that big of a deal out of it. If their story was too outlandish, their parents might get their hopes up about them getting married one day. Unfortunately, Gabriel seemed intent on being the one to mess up their plans.

“So, Adrien, have you decided who you’re going to bring to the gala?” Gabriel asked before Adrien could escape to the car. Kagami looked at Adrien, realizing he was being pressured into a relationship, just like she was.

Adrien smiled, seemingly genuine this time, and answered, “Yep!” More excitedly than was needed. “I’m going with Kagami.”

He bought into the lie, probably because he wanted it to be true, and even though their original plans were messed up, this way seemed to have a similar outcome. Then, Tomoe said something that made Kagami’s heart drop.

“Why don’t you bring that Dupain-Cheng girl along with you, too? I heard her fashion designs have been getting popular lately. It’d be good publicity for her,” she asked them.

Adrien almost laughed from the irony, but answered, “I’ll ask her if she’s available.” He didn’t want to complicate the situation even further, so he thought the best thing to do would be to save that for later.

They went their separate ways, and before Adrien got in the car, he shrugged at Kagami to say, “I’m sorry.”

Later that night, Kagami was able to call Marinette. Parental controls had been a difficult obstacle, but Marinette found a bunch of different ways to bypass them through Nino, and it had been a lifesaver. She needed to explain what exactly was going on, since even though Marinette was hopefully willing to go along with it, she was more than likely confused. “Marinette?” She asked as quietly as she could, since her mother was asleep in the other room.

“Kagami!” Marinette answered, sounding ecstatic to get a call from her girlfriend. “I was hoping you’d call. The party sounds fun, I can’t wait!” From her words, it became obvious that Adrien had already called her and told her about the gala.

Kagami decided she needed to clear things up as soon as possible. “I’m going to have to pretend to date Adrien.”

“What?” Marinette asked. That came out of nowhere.

“I asked Adrien to pretend to be my boyfriend while at the gala.” Kagami started, trying to explain her thought process. “I thought it would be easier for him to be my plus one, since both our parents want us to be married, but I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I’m sorry.”

Marinette let the information sink in. “Alright. Well, I know my family life is much different from yours, but we could’ve just gone as friends. I’m fine with Adrien being there, though, especially if it’ll help get your parents off your backs for a while. Thanks for telling me.”

Kagami blushed– she actually had a reason she didn’t suggest going as friends. “I didn’t think I would be able to pretend to be just friends with you anymore.”

Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be dating Kagami. She knew that even if they would have had trouble pretending to be friends, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference; they weren’t much for PDA after all. “Alright, I guess I can forgive you,” she teased. “Well, hopefully it won’t be too bad with Adrien there.”

Kagami agreed and they stayed silent on the phone together for a while, not wanting to hang up.

“Hey Kagami?”

“Yeah?” Kagami prompted her girlfriend to continue. Her eyes were closed and she had fully expected to fall asleep while on the call.

“Do you still have feelings for Adrien?”

That was a tough question. Even after they started dating, they were both pretty open with the fact that they used to have feelings for Adrien. Key words: used to. It was just expected that both of them dropped those feelings once they started dating. In reality, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

When Kagami didn’t answer, Marinette elaborated. “I mean, you did go to him first to ask him to pretend to date you. I know you two are friends, but there were other options,” she explained, then realized why Kagami might be having a hard time answering. “You can tell me, Kagami. We promised to be open about these things. I won’t be mad.” That was a guarantee, but Kagami still felt her heart drop when she thought of the consequences if she said ‘yes’.

“I might. I’m not sure.”

It was rare for Kagami to admit to not being sure about something. “Okay. That’s fine. Maybe pretending to date him will be a good opportunity, then.”

Kagami noticed that Marinette seemed awfully fine with her girlfriend having feelings for another person, and Kagami appreciated it, but in this case, she couldn’t help but read into it. Marinette had always been in love with Adrien, and even if she had buried her feelings when she got together with Kagami, it was hard to drop that kind of feeling just like that. She didn’t say anything, though, since the whole situation was starting to stress her out. And maybe Marinette was right; maybe the fake dating thing would help clear things up.

Soon, it was the weekend, and all three of them met up in front of Adrien’s place to go to the party. Gabriel didn’t like having people at his house, but he had suggested Marinette come, so he thought it would only be polite to give them a ride.

Kagami’s breath hitched once she saw her girlfriend dressed up. Marinette didn’t have time to prepare a new dress for this particular event, so she wore one that she designed a couple months ago. Kagami had seen her in a similar dress before, but she never got used to how pretty she looked all dressed up.

They drove to the gala in near silence, all three of them in the back while Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, and their bodyguard in the driver’s seat. Kagami found it sort of awkward stuck between her girlfriend and the boy who was pretending to be her boyfriend, but she was determined to make the most of it. Gabriel wasn’t looking back at them, anyway, so she took hold of Marinette’s hand, sliding her own hand against Marinette’s to rest it where it always fit perfectly, then set her other hand on top of Adrien’s. His hand was surprisingly soft, and he jumped when he felt Kagami touch him, but he didn’t make any effort to complain or move his hand.

Once they got there, Kagami was actually buzzing with excitement, though she didn’t show it. Earlier, sometime after her call with Marinette, she had decided that if she had to be here with her girlfriend, she wasn’t going to be forced to pretend they were only friends. She didn’t owe anyone that. Plus, it wouldn’t be obvious unless they kissed in front of everyone. Her only problem was Adrien, and although she knew she didn’t owe it to anyone to pretend to date a boy, she actually quite liked the pretending. Adrien seemed to like it, too. So, she walked into the building with Marinette and Adrien on either side of her, arm-in-arm with both of them.

Gabriel didn’t seem to care– Kagami was convinced he was there just to impress potential investors– and it didn’t seem like anyone else there cared either. So, they all embraced it. They sat down at a table that was draped with a fancy white tablecloth, and soon Adrien and Kagami’s parents were nowhere to be seen (no doubt busy with work) so they were no longer supervised.

“You look nice.” Adrien said, wanting to start up conversation, but not knowing how. Then, to clarify, he added, “Both of you.”

Marinette replied, “Thanks, you too,” to be polite, but she wasn’t wrong. Adrien looked good in just about anything, so he couldn’t go wrong in a suit.

Kagami’s reply to Adrien’s compliment was quite different. “She does, doesn’t she?” And pressed a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand, much too intimately to be platonic.

“Kagami!” Adrien scolded, “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones dating?”

Kagami shrugged. “No one’s looking. Besides,” she turned to look at Marinette, “I told you I wouldn’t be able to pretend to just be friends with you.” Marinette blushed, but Adrien blushed even harder.

Marinette didn’t mind. “I do like this better than having to sit around while your parents deal with business deals.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s not that boring. I’ve been to a lot of these things, and usually the entertainment and hors d'oeuvres make it worthwhile.” He looked around the room, and although it was full of old, rich people, there were at least plates full of tarts, pâté and other small dishes.

Kagami shook her head, admiring his optimism, but finding it a little naive. “I’m glad you’re able to look on the bright side of things, Adrien, but I’d much rather be doing pretty much anything else right now.” That wasn’t true; she did enjoy being with them, but she would rather they were at a movie, or a concert, or fencing. “We need to do more stuff together, the three of us.” If only their parents would let them. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to move out.

“Let’s make the most of our time together now,” Marinette said, already coming up with plans in her head. If only they could be alone, without a hundred people around them. “Do you think your parents would notice if we went missing for a while?”

Adrien was worried about the proposition, since he wasn’t one to risk getting caught misbehaving by his dad, but it wasn’t as if Gabriel cared about him in that particular moment.

Kagami was fine with disobeying a little if it meant spending this limited amount of time together. “I’m fine with taking that risk,” Kagami answered, and almost instantaneously, Marinette took her by the hand and dragged her into the hallway, where they could hopefully escape unnoticed. Kagami took hold of Adrien’s hand, and he trailed close behind them.

Just because he was fine with the decision, didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about the consequences. “Where are we going?”

“Relax, Adrien, it’s not like this is the first time we’ve all snuck out, just the first time without a city to save.”

That was enough to convince him. He followed along without another protest after that; after all, Chat Noir wouldn’t worry about this sort of thing. Maybe for the night he could pretend to be his daring superhero counterpart, just without the responsibilities.

Marinette led them out the back entrance and they were finally alone. They weren’t quite at their destination yet, though, and she finally revealed her plan. “I think I saw an ice cream shop on the way here, only about a block away.” They would have to hurry there and back to minimize the risk of their absence being noticed, but they decided it was worth it.

Marinette was right, the walk to the ice cream shop was short, but that didn’t mean it was uneventful. Adrien, intent on channeling his Chat Noir persona, felt a bit more confident. But, being the dense and clumsy person that he is, Adrien was still not the best at expressing his feelings. That sort of thing certainly wasn’t as easy when he wasn’t wearing a mask.

“So, Kagami, now that we’re pretending to date, does that mean I get a kiss?” He teased, knowing it was far-fetched to ask such a thing.

Kagami didn’t see it that way. “Well, we don’t really have to pretend right now, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” She liked seeing him flustered, and she especially enjoyed the way Marinette reacted. It was as if she liked her girlfriend flirting with her (supposedly) former crush, despite her better judgement. “My lips are for one girl only,” she said, and Adrien was almost relieved that she had reinforced his suspicions that they were exclusive. As much as he was attracted to the two girls, it was too complicated for him to think about dating them both. Then Kagami added, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for a boy,” and that made Adrien look like he was close to collapsing from embarrassment.

Once they got to the shop, they had decided to share a cup with three scoops: one blackberry, one orange, and one peppermint. It was an odd combination, but it was tasty, and Kagami was glad that they were actually trying out the combination of flavors André had assigned them, even if it wasn’t something they’d order again.

After a half an hour of being absent from the party, they decided they had been gone long enough and started to head back. It was getting dark now, and sunset served as a nice view for their walk back. They didn’t look forward to the festivities that now seemed to pale in comparison to their “friend” date, but it was almost bearable now that they had gotten a half an hour to themselves.

“Come on, we have a party to get back to,” Kagami said once they got to the back entrance, taking hold of Adrien’s hand and leading him back into the building as he tried to hide the blush on his face. For some reason, holding hands with her felt a lot more intimate than it did earlier in the day.

That night, maybe she would call Adrien as well as Marinette, and maybe they would talk everything through, or maybe they’d laugh it off as a one-time thing. Maybe a year from now, things wouldn’t seem so simple between them. Kagami decided she could deal with that later. For now, she could just enjoy the way Adrien’s hand clammed up against hers when she winked at him, and savor the quick glances Marinette would give her when she knew no one was looking.

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #adrigaminette #kagami zine #mari writes

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dear-mrs-otome · 4 years

Text

Quand on Parle du Loup - Ikevamp (Jean, AU)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Jean x female MC Warnings: ANGST. Blood, slight gore, horror, character death Summary: When a small village in 18th century France is stalked by a beast, at what price is peace bought? (~4k words, angst, historical/horror AU) Author’s Note: Hey everyone, this was my piece for the @ikevampzine - the theme of the zine was ‘mythology’ and so I opted to play around with the idea of the historical folklore surrounding the story of the Beast of Gévaudan. (If you have never heard of it, go google it! It’s a fascinating little interlude in history!) I was nervous because angst isn’t my usual playground but I had a lot of fun with this. I was also blessed enough to collaborate with @beni-draw-ikemen-please for some amazing art to go alongside it as well, and I thank her for being such a fantastic inspiration! Please see her full piece in all its glory at the end of this story!!

It slunk between the tables and conversations, stalked on silent paws the wisps of woodsmoke that curled from the blackened fireplace, and growled in the echo of every unsettled laugh that bounced back from the oaken rafters overhead.

Not here, not in the sense that mattered, but omnipresent. On everyone’s lips and hearts and minds.

La Bête

The Beast.

“I heard it took another shepherd last week, ‘round La Besseyre-Saint-Mary,” a snaggle-toothed man said quietly to his benchmate as she walked past, laden down by a heavy tray of food and drink. “Saints preserve us.” He crossed himself, and then spat on the tacky floor as if for good measure.

“Saints indeed. The Lord knows we need all the help we can get,” his companion agreed with a rueful twist of his lips. “I thought it was gone for sure, after the marquis’ men caught that big ‘un and showed it off. It went quiet for awhile…but the past couple of months haven’t been so quiet, have they? They must have had the wrong wolf.”

“Did you ever notice though…” The first man broke off, casting his eye about suspiciously, before leaning towards his companion conspiratorially, his voice dropping low enough that she struggled to listen in. “Things really only seem bad around the full moon? Unnatural, I tell you. They say it’s just a wolf, but I’m not so sure.”

Shaking her head at their superstition, she breezed past, angling for the darkness of a corner sequestered far from the light and liveliness of the fireplace. The table she finally stopped at was occupied by only one man - unusual at this busy hour, but no matter how many times she’d seen him come in he always sat alone. Perhaps it was the heavy air he gave off, the way his thoughts seemed walled away behind the tooled leather of an eyepatch. Or perhaps it was the gleaming sword strapped to his hip, and the fine cut of clothing above it. Far finer than any rough homespun worn around these parts.

Everyone else had given him a wide berth since he’d rolled into town some six months back in the employ of the Marquis d’Apcher - as some sort of sellsword, they all had assumed. That hadn’t stopped him from coming to the tavern regularly though, despite their disdain, a pattern that screamed of perpetual bachelorhood.

“Monsieur Jean.” She set his usual beer and bowl of stew down in front of him, along with her usual smile.

He offered her his usual reserved reply. “Please. Just Jean is fine.”

“Very well…’Just Jean’.” It was a ridiculous joke, the same exchange they had nearly every evening, and yet she continued to toss it at him because it never failed to bring a spark of something to his dark eyes. Like summer lightning folded deep within bruised thunderheads. A secret swift flash that brought her inordinate pride.

At a nearby table, voices raised again, cursing the evil that stalked their town, and she caught a wince tightening the lines of Jean’s mouth.

“They’re talking about it again. I mean, what else do they ever talk about?” She shifted her weight and leaned a hip against the scarred tabletop so that she could bend enough to keep their conversation close. “Said someone disappeared the next village over. But you’ll find it,” she told him. She was certain that hunting the beast that terrorized their land was the only thing that would bring a man like him to a sleepy village like this - and was certain he was as frustrated as the rest of them with the lack of progress.

“Perhaps.” His soft murmur of agreement barely carried over the din, and she wondered if she had only imagined the thread of melancholy stitched within it.

Unthinking, she laid her hand over his to squeeze it reassuringly, and then froze when she realized what she had done. Waiting for him to pull his own back and brick himself once more behind the bulwark of silence he always sheltered behind. There was a faint flex, the dance of tension in his fingers…but to her utter surprise he didn’t move. He didn’t turn his hand over to receive her gesture - but he didn’t reject it either.

She looked up from their layered fingers to find his gaze, for once, fixed squarely on hers, and it was dizzying to be the unwavering subject of that midnight intensity.

“Tomorrow is the Sabbath,” he began, almost hesitantly. “After church, are you free?” There was an awkward beat where she wondered what his intentions were exactly in asking, before he seemed to sense her confusion and hastened to fill the loaded silence, slipping his hand from beneath hers to wrap them both around his mug. “I noticed you often walk alone. It’s not safe, least of all now. I thought...perhaps…I could show you a few ways to keep yourself safer.”

“You’d be willing to do that?” She blinked, taken aback by his unexpected offer.

His gaze shifted back to the ale between his hands, the barest ripple of a shrug moving across his frame. “It was just a thought. You are free to refuse.”

“I’m not saying no,” she hurried to answer. “That’d be very kind of you. To be honest, it is terrifying. But I also wish there was something I could do too, if I came across the beast. I know it’s ridiculous to think that one tavern wench could-”

“I’ve seen stranger things.” His interjection cut her self-depreciation off, and when she searched his face there was no mockery there. Only an earnest, fervent sort of frankness that humbled her. “It takes only a single grain of sand to tip a scale. One soldier to win a war.”

She had to duck her head then, to keep him from seeing the pleased smile that plucked at her lips. “All right, then I accept. Thank you.”

------

The sun had climbed high by the time church let out, pressing down on her shoulders like the weight of a hot heavy hand. Against the golden backdrop of an autumn field, Jean stood dark like a drop of ink, as cool and composed as ever where he leaned against the low stone wall.

“You came again.”

She had to wonder at the way he sounded almost surprised. This was the third week they had met like this now, after his first offer nearly a month ago. “Of course I came. There’s too much going on for me to just...not.”

He made a small noncommittal sound and then crossed towards her, his long legs eating up the distance. “Do you remember where we left off last time?” he asked, immediately all business. In his hand was the spear that had rested beside him and he offered it to her, haft first, the keen edge of its spade-tipped head winking coolly in the hot sun.

She nodded and took it hesitantly, adjusting her grip on the grain of the handle until it felt comfortable in her hand. “I think so.” The spear is the weapon of the humble, he had told her on that first day. It is the great equalizer.

There was a stack of hay nearby and she turned to it, setting her jaw as she ran over their past lessons in her mind, Jean’s calm voice echoing in her recollections.

Set your feet.

Keep your weight toward your toes.

Bend your knees, hands shoulder-width apart.

She drew a breath that carried the sweet smell of drying grass with it and lashed out with the tip, slicing a few of the nearest blades neatly off.

“Your balance is good. You’ve been practicing. But -” He stepped behind her, arms braced alongside hers for support, hands resting atop her own until they were cradling the spear in their shared grip. “Always keep your lead arm steady.”

He guided her again into a careful stroke to illustrate, and she was reminded that this was a man who had made a life of war. In the muted strength of his grip, in the tensile musculature of the frame that bracketed her own, was the testament to a body flayed by battle into something pure of purpose.

Beneath their combined hands, the fluid arc of her swing trimmed another few inches from the hay bales effortlessly.

His tiny grunt of exertion brushed over the sweat-clung curls at the nape of her neck, warm and cool at the same time, and she was abruptly aware of how close they were. The slightest turn of her head brought his face into view, scarcely more than a murmur away from her own, and she froze.

His skin was flawless, almost porcelain in its perfection save for whatever flaw lay behind that eyepatch. His features classic and refined. When she had first seen Jean, in the low light of the tavern, she had mistaken him for a woman - a mistake only corrected when she had heard his mild baritone.

Yet even under the unflinching midday sun, he was still something undefinable. Beauty freed from the restriction of labels. As transcendent and timeless as the faces of the angels she saw in church every Sunday, carved of marble and of stained glass, perched on windows and above the pews watching over the parishioners. Divine and touched by God.

Her heart forgot how to keep its own time as the dark lashes on his good eye swept up, and the night sky of his gaze warmed ever so slightly as it met hers, like the slow break of dawn.

They both stalled, and the hand curled above the flare of her hip suddenly seemed to burn her through so many layers of cloth as the thought occurred to her that all she had to do was lean and she would finally know what those elegant lips felt like against her own.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked to distract herself from the temptation, her half breathless words giving voice to the question that had plagued her the past few weeks. “Why teach me all this?”

He dropped her hand and took a swift, safe step back, raking unsteady fingers through his long hair. For long moments she thought he wouldn’t answer at all, before he finally spoke. “Have you heard of the loup-garou?”

“A man, that becomes a wolf.” It would have been impossible not to, given the wild stories that passed through the lips of drunken men. “Surely you’re not saying...” She began on a laugh, but it withered away to nothing when his face remained impassive.

“The loup-garou is a scourge. A wolf but not, a man but not. Smarter, stronger, faster than any beast framed by the hand of God. It is the devil’s work.” Jean practically spat the words as he prowled a deliberate step forward, and she had to fight the urge to take an answering one back. His eye fixed on hers, hard and dark and cutting as a flake of obsidian. “A wretched cursed thing, damned to crave flesh. They say -” He broke off, almost as if wrestling with something, before finishing his thought. “They say it kills those it loves first.”

She licked dry lips, and tried to find her voice. “How do you stop it?”

He gestured toward the weapon in her hands with a rueful lilt to his words. “A sharp blade, and a lot of luck.”

“I don’t believe in monsters.” She shook her head vehemently, as if she could wish the idea away if she only denied it hard enough. Wish away all those dark grumblings that swirled around the tavern each night. “A wolf is a wolf is a wolf. God would not be so cruel as to damn a soul like that.”

A smile crossed his face then, quick and fleeting and full of something so akin to despair that it seemed more a grimace to her. “Humor me then, mademoiselle. Believe it or don’t, as you see fit.” He pressed the spear into her lax hands, until she was forced to grip it tighter. Cold and ominous, like a length of ice in her curled fingers. “But let us both agree that God helps those who help themselves.”

------

The moon hung high when she left the tavern late the following night. Round and pendulous, it stared at her from between the trees as she waved a goodbye to the tavernkeep and tugged on the leather gloves she’d had tucked in a pocket.

Shadows crawled across the dirt track that led toward her house on the fringe of the small village, in time with the swaying of the trees overhead, and the breeze they danced on waltzed with the ends of her hair as well, loosened by the evening’s toils. As she turned to pick up the stave leaning beside the back door, a far-off owl let out a melancholy trill.

It was all very tranquil, and she felt more than a bit foolish as she walked, armed to the teeth with weapons she scarcely knew how to use and jumping at every sound.

Then, in the distance - a sound that raked cold claws down her spine.

The cresting ululation of a wolf’s howl.

Even without Jean’s fanciful tales, the sound sank a quarrel of panic into the base part of her brain, the one still firmly rooted in a time where mankind was decidedly prey and not predator. She tightened her grip on the haft she held so that she wouldn’t notice her own trembling fingers, and pressed on.

Then it came again, from the next rise nearer. Echoing down the gully and wood, as if funneled straight to her.

As if whatever dreadful throat had borne that sound were coming straight toward her.

Her footfalls turned over faster, racing the occasional scudding cloud overhead as fear prodded her on, her heart squeezing out beat after frenzied beat from within the confines of her throat. The leather of her gloves grew slick inside with sweat from her palm, and she switched her grip on the spear to her other hand, flexing away the clammy dampness as best she could.

Almost home, almost home...she clung to the little litany, as the howling drew closer and underbrush crackled off in the distance.

She saw the eyes first.

Flickering between the bushes like flames, the faint dry-bone rasp of dead brush accompanying it as it paced her effortlessly. A time or two it disappeared and she was left running alone, her heart pounding so hard it scarcely felt as if it had unclenched enough to take another beat - only for those ghastly twin fires to reignite, moments later, on the other side. Back and forth, back and forth, until a sudden realization had the prickles of a cold sweat break out on her back.

Mother of God...it was toying with her. As if it were some great cat rather than a wolf, amusing itself with her attempts to escape. Feeding off her fear as if it were an amuse bouche. The delectable prequel to a feast.

This, more than anything, convinced her that Jean had been right. This…this beast...was no creature of God.

This was something born of hell. Nature marred by the devil’s own fingerprints.

Maybe that was the realization that finally turned her spine to steel. Jean had been right about the wolf - and that meant perhaps he had been right about her. He knew she could handle herself.

A single grain of sand.

Her feet scuffed lightly on the dirt of the path as she skidded to an abrupt halt, the sound of her own ragged breath the only thing filling her ears. Whatever the creature was, wherever the creature was, it seemed to be content to simply watch. And wait.

"Show yourself." She hated the tiny tremor that wove itself into her voice. Hated more the ridiculous inexplicable feeling that the creature might somehow understand her.

It came, after a breath held so long her lungs began to ache. Parting the underbrush like a leviathan breaching the sea, black as sin with brimstone eyes. A mouthful of bristling fangs and a growl that scraped painfully deep on the ears, like the slow crumble of a mountain. It paced forward until the watery light shone on it fully, and she couldn’t have stifled the gasp that left her if she tried at the sheer size of it.

Against the inside of her ribs, her heart bruised itself painfully, and the fingers that clutched at her stave gripped it ever tighter, fighting against the terror that numbed them. The first few syllables of a Hail Mary tumbled from her lips, unbidden, to spill between them.

The beast paced the liminal wash of moonlight restlessly, dappled by shadow. A step toward her and then a turn back, pausing on occasion to sway its great shaggy head. The faintest of whines escaped the cage of its teeth, its ears pinned back flat to its skull as it met her eyes and stood, nearly motionless, fine tremors quaking its back as if shaking away the irritation of invisible flies.

She held that monstrous gaze, and it felt like walking into an open flame. Scorching and breathless as if the gates of hell swept themselves open to usher her in.

“What do you want?” she asked. It remained motionless, and the repetition tore itself from her throat, her voice breaking lest her nerve did. “What do you want?!”

It didn’t answer, of course. The only thing her voice did was to snap whatever indecisive spell it had seemed to linger under.

In a blink, the wolf leapt, and time seemed to perch on a glassine pedestal. So many things whirling at once until the moment shattered into countless shards, past and present and future all splintered and shuffled, like a broken mirror at her feet. Offering tiny refractions without answers.

The dark shape of the beast, blotting out the moon.

A howl, mournful and defiant, raking ragged claws across her concentration to shred it.

A slavering maw gaping open like the summation of all her misdeeds, snarling and ready to swallow her whole.

Then.

A hand over her own, firm and steadying.

The sweet hot waft of hay in the sun, and a voice like clover honey in her ear, saying -

Set your feet. Set your feet.

Set your feet.

She did, and the rest of the motion flowed unquestioningly, earned over so many late-summer afternoons. The hard wood biting into her ribcage, nearly knocking the wind out of her as she took the brunt of the beast’s pounce squarely on the point. A strange sort of resistance that shivered up the shaft she held, until it punched through on a sucking, wet-clay sound, grating nauseatingly against bone as it went. Crimson bloomed and ran down the wood onto her arms, dripping from the beast and her own elbow, red-black as the secret heart of an unfurling rose. Splashing and scattering about like crushed petals to pit the dusty ground beneath her feet.

Teeth snapped shut inches from her face, pink and frothed with blood. And above it all, the tip of the spear gleaming proud and defiant, coated in gore and fur where it sprouted from the back of the beast.

With her hands slick, she couldn’t keep her grip against the weight of the wolf, and she and the spear crashed to the ground. She rolled over onto her knees in a rush and found the wolf lying nearby, panting as it strained and thrashed, great claws gouging furrows in the dirt as it fought - for freedom from the weapon that pierced it, perhaps. For purchase, as it still strained towards her. For life, as it railed against the slow dim of that feral light in its eyes.

She watched, transfixed, as its great bulk seemed to fold in on itself. Fangs blunting, claws shrinking, limbs stretching and fur receding until in the road, gasping against a spreading backdrop of scarlet, lay the truth she knew she’d been running from this whole time.

“Thank God. Oh...thank God.” The words left Jean on a broken sigh, soft as the brush of an angel’s pinfeathers.

She crawled to his side, heedless of the pebble strewn dirt that bit savagely into her palms and knees. “Jean, I -”

She what? There were a hundred ways to end that sentence and not a single one managed to rise out of the maelstrom of emotions that gripped her, twisting hot and tight in her chest, surging to beat at the back of her eyes. Her hands fluttered insecurely above him, unsure of where to land or what to do, before she lifted his head onto her lap and brushed sweat-matted strands from his face.

There were stars in his eyes, she saw, as his gaze struggled to find hers. Not just a reflection of those wheeling overhead, but tiny flecks of pallor in the twilight of them that she had never noticed before - constellations trapped within his unfocused stare.

“Forgive me.” His voice was the barest tattered thread of sound, and even that small effort set him coughing, blood bubbling around the shaft still impaled in his chest like the ghastliest of blooms. “Forgive me for saying this but...I am so glad it was you. I knew it would be.”

His hand shook and tried to reach for her, falling weakly back against his stomach until she snatched it up and clenched it tight within her grasp. Heedless of the heartsblood that coated it like a glove, far warmer than the chilled flesh beneath. “How did you know that?”

A full smile graced his lips, the first she had ever seen, achingly beautiful despite the agonized clench of his teeth. “I knew exactly who his prey would be.”

The slick fingers tangled between her own tightened, squeezing meaningfully, though the gasp that tore through him belied how much even that small motion cost - and the pain that lanced her heart at the implication of his words made it feel almost as if it were she that had been run through.

He shivered, though the night wasn’t cold, and the pulse at his wrist fluttered faster against her fingertips. Erratic, like the shake of a fledgling's wings before flight. “If God is merciful..” His clear eyes slowly clouded. “M-may He grant we meet again.”

Before she could answer, he sighed one more breath - and then stilled.

“No. No, no, no…” But there was no denying the truth, no matter how bitterly it sat on her tongue. Mixing harsh with the salt of the tears that ran down her cheeks. She held a dead man, in wretched mimicry of a lover’s embrace, and wept a pieta over the clay that had bound him to this nightmare - the unblinking moon above the only other witness to just what price his freedom.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jean #my writing #angst #tw: blood #tw: character death #collab #beni-draw-ikemen-please #Ikevamp zine

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andaleduardo · 3 years

Note

Where, besides Tumblr, can people find you doing fannish things? (Obviously only mention sites and usernames you actually want to be found at. Don’t expose your secret identities on my account.)

What other names have you gone by on these platforms, including Tumblr, if any?

When did you join the IT fandom? And what got you into fandom, to begin with?

What are your favorite ships, or characters, if any, and why? What do they mean to you?

In what ways do you participate in fandom? (ex. Posting memes, reblogging/commenting on content, writing fanfic, making fanart, creating fanmixes, etc.)

Do you have any in-fandom inspirations? Other members of the community that drive you? (And if you have the time/energy, in what ways do they inspire you?)

Name and link some of your favorite works, please!

Do you have any works of your own that you feel particularly proud of, or wish more people would’ve consumed? Please provide links if possible.

Have you ever participated in a fannish event (ie. IT Week, a fic Big Bang) or applied to be a part of a fanzine? If so, which ones, and can you please link them?

Without any form of bashing or lashing out, what is something you feel this fandom is missing?

We’ve talked about it before but I wanna thank you one more time for all the thought you put into these questions and for sending them to me, honestly <33

Okay this is probably going to be a long post I’m sorry in advance,,

- Besides tumblr and AO3 (it’s the same username) I don’t have any more fannish accounts, I have a twitter so I can keep up with the IT content over there but my account is private I don’t really interact there I just observe 👀

- Jesus what a good question, my first name on tumblr was eds-spagheds, that was also my first name on AO3, but then the second movie came out and I had to make good use of that iconic line

- Okay buckle up I love this story. So, It chapter one came out in 2017, but I hate horror movies with a passion, I never watch them, so when my friends asked me to come see it with them I said no, right. Fast forward one year. One random day in high school I think I caught the flu or something and I was feeling like absolute CRAP but me and my friend (the same one that invited me to see It on the cinema) had already made plans for that afternoon, that were: watch IT chapter one at her house. I tell you, I was laying on her couch having fever dreams while we waited for another friend of ours to show up, I was thinking to myself, I’m gonna go home, I feel like shit I don’t want to watch a horror movie that I’m gonna have nightmares about tonight. Anyway, I didn’t leave, they convinced me because they said “you love stranger things you’ll love this too”. The three of us sat down to watch the movie. Me, a dumbass, said this on the first seconds of the movie: “Can you imagine how bad it must feel to enter a fandom based on a movie? Like, with stranger things you can rewatch all the seasons but with a movie it’s just, the same 2 hours to obsess over and over.” No, I didn’t know there was a book, mini-series, or a second part. Yes, I got to know them all in the following months because as soon as I finished the movie I knew that was it for me.

- Okay favorite ships? We’re all tired of this answer but reddie. However, I like every single ship imaginable between the 7 of them, to me they’re all soulmates and I love all the dynamics possible. I lovE all of them, ships and characters. I think I related most to Ben, because of the unrequited love, body image and food issues. That part on the book about Ben’s mom feeding him unhealthy things and him trying to eat better and then the guilt trip? man, that hit too close. But like many people say, we all relate to every loser in a different way.

- Sighs. I don’t really participate anymore... First 2 years I was on fire with content, I did fanart and wrote prompts, one shots, full fics.. now I literally just reblog things and try to give love to the artists. I guess you can say I’m retired

- That’s a difficult question, all of the art I see inspires me, all of the fics I love inspire me, before, I guess they inspired me to create my own content for the fandom but since I don’t create anymore, they just, make my day really much better. I appreciate every single content creator of this fandom, you don’t know how much joy it brings me

- Okay okay!! This is impossible to get right because I will forget many many people for sure but over all this time there’s some works that really stick with me and that I think about every other day:

a (number) neighborhood of seven by BookRockShooter

I Might Be Dreaming (I Might Be Dead) by batwake

two falling sparks by zach_stone

Predicament Bondage by dgalerab

Now What I'm Gonna Say May Sound Indelicate by IfItHollers

& That's For All Time by tossertozier (rednoseredhair)

In Over Your Chest is Way Too Deep (AKA Surf Bois) by speakslow

5555 by weepies

- Yes! I wrote a handful of things but my absolute favorite one is this: Late at night when I like who I am, in the dark where I’m finally me

- No :( Sadly I never participated in any fandom event as a creator, but I love to see everyone’s work when one happens ! I bought the loser’s zine and it’s my most prized possession

- Hmmmm tough question, I think a little more empathy? There are so many kind and amazing people here but there are also some people who are... not. I see a lot of discourse over useless things like adults being in the fandom is somehow bad because the losers were once kids? like, are we forgetting this story follows these people from their childhoods through their adulthoods? And are we supposed to stop liking things after we turn 20 or? And when people who write Richie’s parents as bad parents are regarded as edgy teens who just want to cause Richie pain??? like what the....? so many people have only watched the movies and i’m sorry but in the movies there’s nothing that shows Richie’s parents as good parents, that’s only in the book, why do we attack these people then? maybe they relate to Richie and they have bad households, don’t we all project ourselves on our favorite characters?

Anyway, that’s all from me, if anyone reads this far I’ll be impressed but I had a lot of fun with these 👉👈

#long post #asks #so many good questions aA #It 2017 #It 2019 #the losers club

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