#I've managed to identify what i like in all these different pieces of reading

[itstimeforstarwars]

Sometimes I read a passage of my own work that is so clearly influenced by an author that I read in my childhood that I have to go "whoa there, KA Applegate, maybe chill a bit on the visceral descriptions" and like. I am only a cumulation of everyone I've ever known.

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

3, 11, 16, 18, 25, 29, 47, 54, and 57 for the get to know your fic writer questions :) <3 !!!

Get to know your fic writer! Asks

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I'm so sorry, I do not know. It just...happens? For me I most often start with whatever scene popped into my head first as the basis for the idea. Then I sort of plot my way outwards (how did we get here = beginning and middle. where are we going = end) then write it from start to finish. ...Apparently I do know. Jk. Earlier statement redacted

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

so hallowed and so gracious by nowrunalong. Buffy is wishing for a piece of chocolate cake and a cup of coffee when she enters her kitchen to find a ghost reading the newspaper.

Buffy/Anya fic OF ALL TIME. It's what really got me interested in shipping them. I've reread this more times than I can count.

Body Language by explosionshark. Buffy and Faith have always communicated best when they're not relying on words at all.

Buffy/Faith. It's so so so SO good!!!! Reread this a gazillion times.

Flowers for a Ghost series by aliceinwonderbra. When Buffy jumps into the the portal in The Gift, she wakes up in a new world. This series is comprised of Flowers for a Ghost, the story of canon Buffy in an Alt world, and The Girl from Away, the story of Alt Buffy in canon.

Buffy/Faith. The angst in this one hurt SO BAD I have only managed to read it once, but I think about it often.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Asking me this is a mistake, the answer is TOO MANY + I will never shut up about my fic ideas so be careful haha. Jk, according to my list of MR! fic ideas: 152. At random from the list, here is a summary from one: "Christian's hand is shaking too much, his finger slips on the trigger, and he kills someone he never meant to hurt." So. That sounds like an enjoyable time :)) /s (there is something so wrong with me...in my defense there is also something so wrong with Christian)

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

It depends. Sometimes the title is the first thing in my mind and I craft the fic around that. Sometimes it's the very last thing added before I hit post.

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

more and darling, dearest, dead from MR! I consider them to be some of the best things I've ever written haha I'm proud of how they turned out!! And I want people to scream about them with me in the comments MORE PLEASEEEEE. *getting down on the ground* hereeeee comments, pspspspsps!!!!

He Slays Monsters. Always. It's my baby, but it's consistently lost readers overtime as people realized Buffy is likely gonna identify as [redacted] by the end. Redacted for spoilers but, it's obvious. People put it together, and they don't come back. *sigh* writing trans fic can really suck haha

29. What's your revision or editing process like?

Hell.

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Boring answer but: as many times as it takes before I'm happy with it. Could be once. Could be I'll sit on it for 6 months until posting. Idk how to explain but I can just feel if there's something off about it and if it has that feeling, I wait until I figure out why and fix it.

54. What's your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Taking characters I love and making more content and stories for them!!!!!! Changing canon and watching what happens. Putting them in an AU and seeing how they're the same/different. Saving the blorbos!!! (Traumatizing the blorbos more...) Also: huge one for me is comments/asks/engagement from others in the fandom!!! I'm really awkward and have vampire autism (won't talk about The Thing unless invited) so I just make stuff and put it lovingly at everyone's feet like an offering and hope some of them come talk to me about this thing I worked so so hard on before I implode

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it's finished?

I have to actively stop myself from editing as I write, but it always goes better when I do.

[mythandlaur]

Code: July Day 12 - Hopeless

There's no way I'm getting all the ones I want to done in July at this point, so you'll probably see a few stragglers posted in the next couple weeks.

This one's based on the prologue of the fangame IFSCL, but since the whole story isn't out yet I've kind of taken my own spin on it. The premise should mostly explain itself, at least.

And no, I'm not doubling this up with day 30's prompt, because I want to actually show them being happy for that one.

...

13-04-2010

If you could live your life over again, what would you do differently?

It was one of those lofty questions you only got in philosophy questions or as essay prompts to judge your character. Jeremie had always hated that, the kind of question that has no right answer, a problem with no solution. It always leaves him flailing trying to figure out what he's supposed to say in response--he's much more comfortable with math and science, where things aren't necessarily simpler, but every consistent action has a specific result. Two plus two always equals four. Baking soda and vinegar always makes carbon dioxide.

Even in the quantum sciences where there was far more uncertainty, he still held the belief that it all fit into a paradigm people just hadn't figured out yet. Time moves in a straight line, unless it doesn't, according to some rule that hadn't yet been discovered.

Computers, most of all. If you delete something (really delete it, not just your grandma wiping the Recycle Bin), it should be irretrievable.

If you could do things over again. It was supposed to be a hypothetical. But all the laws he knows have already fallen to pieces--and behind it, he's forced to face that question in a terrifyingly real way.

It's hard for him to read the flickering blue display on the screen across the room with one of his glasses' lenses rendered a useless conflagration of spiderweb cracks. 30...20 seconds left, maybe? Jeremie could've force-executed the special RTTP immediately, of course, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to enter the last command. Did that make him a coward? It's not like an extra minute would make much of a difference.

Maybe he should've known this was coming the moment he'd looked into the news article, and the strange events that had immediately followed.

Dr. Hugh Tyron found dead in his home...asphyxiated...no signs of struggle...under posthumous investigation for cyberterrorism and possession of confidential documents and technology. The name had struck Jeremie as vaguely familiar, like he'd seen it in passing, and a bit of digging revealed a paper trail perfectly parallel to Waldo Schaeffer and the other members of Project Carthage he'd managed to identify.

Immediately after the article, those other members began dying one after another, in either a set of serial murders or horrific accidents usually involving power lines or out-of-control industrial equipment.

Mr. Delmas had, out of the blue, sent a friendly email to Jeremie asking about info security--apparently, the Kadic school records had been breached and he was concerned about student safety, but had no idea where to start in upgrading their outdated systems.

A fire had broken out at the old Renault factory, putting it back on the city's radar and resuming talks of demolition.

A prolonged blackout had struck the entire city of Valence, France, where Jeremie's parents lived and where he would've still been at the time if he hadn't left for college in America a couple of weeks early.

Twelve times, they'd tried again to destroy it. Twelve times, they'd succeeded, but got less and less of a reprieve, had less and less hope. It only figured that number thirteen was the unlucky one.

And now, here he is, running the last resort RTTP, one so extreme none of them would remember anything once all was said and done. He wouldn't be doing it if he was completely hopeless--he was sure there had to have been something they could've done to prevent this outcome, maybe when XANA was weaker. But it's not like he'll be able to do much to change things, just relying on their scattered half-memories to guide them down another path. It's a long shot, but maybe it'll work. He has to believe that.

Jeremie wishes he'd had time to leave something behind for his younger self, a message or a bit of advice or something, but there's no way something like that would survive a RTTP as big as this one anyway, so he's left simply speculating to pass the last few seconds. He's probably going to miss his own perspective the most--because XANA had been big, yes, but so many things had seemed equally as big and scary back then when they just weren't, things as simple as talking to his friends or having a crush or telling the truth--dear god, he's going to have to come out all over again isn't he--

Maybe...maybe he would tell himself to spend more time with them, not to just save it for a later he hadn't been sure was coming. Not to get so worked up over little things, because he only ever got so annoyed because he was scared. Tell them more, in general. Several incidents could've been avoided like that.

Like William. That's one of the things that was obvious in hindsight--he wasn't angry at William, only a tiny bit of it had ever been at William. It was a whole mess of mistakes on everyone's part, but it wasn't William's fault that Jeremie had spent an entire summer break sulking and come back full of spite.

Yeah, Jeremie thinks, that's definitely one thing he'd want to change. He'd devirtualize William instead of freezing up and yelling at him uselessly. Maybe they'd be a little closer at the end.

He sees the counter hit single digits. He considers telling Yumi, on the other side of the door to the busted cargo elevator behind him, but decides against it. The whine from the mainframe, this time loud enough to be clearly audible two floors up, should be enough of an indicator.

Aelita's stuck upstairs. He wishes he could call her. He hopes she understands. He hopes that she can hope alongside him, because she's always been like that, even on her worst days.

Really, if anyone's going to figure out what's going on and how to stop XANA this time, it's going to be her, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else. He can't hope to match that.

The whine reaches a fever pitch, but the air doesn't grow thick like he's used to it doing. He can move perfectly fine, without time seeming to slow to a crawl while his brain runs too fast to keep up.

A white light springs from the center of the laboratory, and Jeremie shields his eyes--but not fast enough to miss a flicker in the air in front of him.

It...is him, he realizes as he peeks out from in between his fingers. Younger and dumber and looking like he's staring into an oncoming train, but definitely himself. The elder tries to scramble to his feet, tries to wave a greeting, think of something to say, I'm sorry, I forgive you--but before he can get a word out his world goes green, then white in a shower of painful sparks.

09-10-2003

Jeremie lurches backwards, the weight of his own backpack nearly sending him tumbling. He grips onto the side of the bridge to steady himself and takes a moment to catch the breath he'd suddenly lost.

What had that been just now, on the other side of the bridge, looking at him?

He rubs his eyes with the heel of a hand, glancing over to where he'd seen it, but...the stranger who'd been standing there is nowhere to be seen.

"What was that?...I really need to get some sleep."

For a moment, he looks over his shoulder, considering going back and telling Maya. But--that's dumb, what's he even supposed to say to her, that he'd had a weird dream? He hadn't even explained those to her properly yet. Besides, once he got the remote connection set up, he would be able to talk to her whenever he wanted--and as of right now, he'd be in enough trouble if he got caught outside of the dorms.

He ignores the chill down his spine, or the sudden weight on his shoulders, as he hops down the ladder to the waterways where he'd parked his scooter.

(A boy sits bolt upright, whipping his head around towards the other bed in his room with a long-since-dulled venom on his tongue for being woken up--but then he remembers that he's never had a roommate.)

(A girl presses her ear to her doorway, but she doesn't hear her parents arguing. So why can't she sleep? She checks her phone out of habit, but that's stupid. No one ever calls her. And--she likes it that way, doesn't she?)

(A boy--or at least they think they must be a boy, at the time--scrambles about trying to keep a small, hyperactive dog from destroying a hotel room so he can get a few seconds of peace to call his family and let him know he'd gotten there safe, despite already knowing the call's going to go to voicemail. He really hopes whoever he's rooming with will be cool about dogs.)

(An older boy's in the middle of writing his twenty-sixth love letter that night when his stomach suddenly drops out from under him and his eyes sting with frustrated tears. He sits back in his chair, stares out the window, and decides he's done enough work on his little project for one night.)

(A virtual girl lies on her back and stares up towards the vanishing point of the datastream far above, suddenly convinced that there must be an infinite amount of life to live beyond it, despite having no evidence. She does not know that world. She has never known it. So how can she miss it with such ferocity?)

(And a blond with broken glasses opens his eyes to find white as far as he can see, except for a line at the horizon where a rainbow sits like a smeary soap bubble, as if the light itself has slowed enough to split into its constituent colors--or, perhaps, he was moving too fast. He slumps down against a door that isn't there anymore, realizing abruptly that he is both Schrodinger and the cat, in one place and time and another, existing and not existing.

He settles in for a millisecond that will last an eternity. But perhaps, if he goes unobserved, he can be in that other place, just for a moment.

And if that's right, he vows to do whatever he can to fix the odds, this time.)

[kimageddon]

Hey I wanted to thank you for your comments on the long thread about Phee/Tech and neurodivergence, etc. You managed to put into words what I couldn't about posts of that nature and why they were bothering me; I've mostly just blocked them rather than try to articulate what didn't sit right. Neurodivergence is a large spectrum and I think it's easy for everyone to assume a given ND character's experiences must align with theirs, rather than acknowledging it's going to work for some of us and not others, and that's all part of being a large, diverse group of people whose life experience at the hands of neurotypical society is going to be radically variant.

Hello Anon!

Thank you kindly for such a lovely message! I am very glad that I was able to say something. You may regret sending this, because I am jumping back on my soapbox.

I'm gonna talk about Autism, ND, mental health as it relates to Tech and the Bad Batch.

This is gonna be another long one:

For clarification, if anyone needs it, my message in the aforementioned thread was to offer a different perspective as the arguments did not make sense to me. I wanted to talk about the show and not about the people having the opinions.

I wanna clarify that my comments in regard to Autism being different was not to dismiss the experiences of anyone ND but to specify that while perhaps you(anyone reading this) would find the comment "it's called a conversation" upsetting (I know I would if it were said to me!).

However I do not think Tech would.

My reasoning is this:

Autism is treated differently in men and women and men (generally speaking) are not pressured to mask as much. (They still are, but not to the level of women from everything my research tells me.)

That being said, Tech has not really had to do that from the evidence I have seen. He Info dumps, interjects, and pretty much acts with confidence throughout the time we see him. Why would he need to mask? He was created to be a well of information and his brothers more or less accept him as he is.

To the argument that Phee somehow controls or manipulates or otherwise pushes her self on Tech in any manner.

I think that is ridiculous.

Firstly, she is gentle and kind when she speaks to him, if a little sassy. Nothing Tech hasn't encountered before from his brothers, or even dished out himself.

Hunter's introduction to us of Tech is: "He can fill your head with useless info for hours."

Which is probably the most dismissive thing said to him in the time we get to know him, but that just doesn't bother him.

In relation to this, people saying things like this are at risk of infantalising him. Which is a major problem within the Autistic and ND community.

Secondly. Tech is a grown ass man (weird clone aging aside). If he didn't like Phee or something she says, he can walk away, and I believe he would. He doesn't appear to feel the societal pressures, he's a soldier and doesn't get civilian etiquette so why would he follow it and stand around her just to be polite?

"Since when have we ever followed orders?"

We aren't children.

We might think differently and process differently, but we are people. We're not poor widdle babies that don't understand our feelings. We don't need protecting from the world and people that wanna treat Tech that way are doing he and the Autistic people that identify with him a massive disservice.

Finally, I wanted to clarify the part of my message that seemed to be the most controversial.

If something is so deeply upsetting that it affects your mental health detrimentally perhaps you need to look at your life and disengage from said thing.

From what I gather, some people have interpreted this to mean : just don't watch the Bad Batch. or "it's just a stupid show why do you care?"

This is not what I mean.

Of course care about it, get engaged with the characters and the story and let it make you feel things.

What this message means is:

If something -- whether it be a piece of media, a person/relationship, a social platform --

Is so deeply upsetting that it effects your mental health detrimentally -- if you have trouble sleeping or thinking about anything else or fall into depressive states (not depression generally speaking but because of the something specifically) and you cannot function at your usual level --

Perhaps you need to look at your life -- true happiness comes from within (i'll get to this in a sec) --

And disengage with said thing -- take a break, take a breath, drink water, have a snack. Let your emotions process and let yourself relax, then you can go back to it (provided of course it's not a toxic situation.) --

I realise this is far easier said than done, and it would take a significant amount of introspection, but I use this in multiple situations, not just here.

The TL:DR version; go touch grass, you'll feel better.

Alright, we've strayed a little from the point

Finally: Ship and let ship.

If you don't like Phee because you prefer to write Tech as not liking anyone but y/n or your OC -- go for it! That's totally valid! (They did it with Anakin so why not?) Besides, there were only a few interactions and it was a budding closeness, it's not like Tech was getting married to her!

But if you wanna make excuses that you only like the actress when she's not a direct romantic threat to your blorbo or do some mental gymnastics to try and portray her interactions as toxic, and he "deserves better" my dude, that reeks of something else entirely.

I decided to cut it here as it's getting a little longer than intended and I wanted to keep this to Tech/Bad Batch related stuff. I will make a post explaining the more controversial takes that apparently upset some people.

That should be interesting.

Again, thank you anon for the kind message, and giving me an opportunity to further clarify my thoughts.

If anyone has any questions or counterpoints, I would be interested to hear them.

[thewelllitweenie]

So it's been long enough since I posted this last and so now I re-present a story I wrote for a rusty quill competition which I can proudly announce did no rate a mention or an email back. What follows is a gross little tale I call windows about an awful little guy and the bad time he has. It's body horror in theme and is one of the more actively yucky things I've written. There's other stories too including the meat forest which I keep pinned and a fun story about subway tuna that's on my substack. Anyways, please read and if you so choose enjoy this fun little story about a horrible little man who through every fault of his own has a bad time.

Peering through windows is a little treat most people will indulge in to varying degrees; from the very shallow end of looking through the newspapers stuck on the windows of a store being refurbished, all the way up to looking into the living rooms of a house at night from the footpath and watching a person at rest. Windows are for looking through and while we would all agree it’s pretty good to look out and see what's around outside, universally it’s uncomfortable to have the outside peer in. It’s like a secret knowledge to look back in though, particularly if you can do it unobserved. There are idiosyncrasies of a person at home they wouldn’t even be aware of but if you catch a glimpse through a cracked curtain enough times you’ll eventually piece together more about what makes them tick than even their loved ones would know.

For a particular Peeping Tom, this is what it’s about. He’d be quick to point out that isn’t something tawdry, watching people in states of undress for titillation but a much more intimate knowledge about a person and who they are. There is a limit to how much you can learn about a person from outside a window, and no matter how much you poke through their garbage or track them online the most illuminating information is within the person. What he wants is hidden even from the observed. It’s just beyond the last frontier to the most private and intimate patterns within their mind and, if you believe in such things, their soul. It’s a desire to see through and bear witness to the unaware internals which has driven him to a dangerous threshold.

Turns out watching a person in their sleep only reveals how much noise they make, faint hints of nightmares and dreams so very close to the secrets bubbling away under their closed eyes. That's the window, the one that matters to look through: the eyes. Of course he wants to see through those windows of the soul, however it is impossible to look in without them looking right back at you, and to be discovered now would be a fate worse than death for him. No one can ever know what he does or see him do it. It is in this frustrated state of mind that Peeping Tom languishes, unable to either let it all go as an impossible desire or progress further to attain this goal.

Recently; in a laneway near where some of his subjects live, between two skip bins, something odd has started growing on the wall. Of course it catches Tom’s eye - very little of interest escapes his notice. He thinks it's a mushroom at first, taking foot in the brickwork. Little white orbs pushing out from the webby strands anchoring to the wall. He hasn’t seen something like that before but it's only a passing fancy as he makes his way between the apartments he spends evenings peering into from fire escapes. The sanitation team from the city has also noticed the growth on the wall: one of the newer members, a young man whose coveralls name him Joe, takes particular interest, encouraging the others to leave it alone, and takes photos of its progress. Tom watches Joe’s enthusiasm, and it provides a new avenue of discovery. He eventually manages to track Joe online, finding photos he posts to different mycology groups trying to identify the mysterious fungus. Experts argue on what it could be and no one has a clear idea. Such a little thing causes so much drama. They wait for the fruit to bloom fully and finally answer the mystery. Joe says he’ll burst one of the less developed orbs and film it. This is met with a mixture of support and condemnation. By now Tom is fully invested in the outcome of this investigation, a mystery with an answer which will come Thursday evening. Joe is off shift and Tom sits waiting, Joe brightly lit by a portable ring light smiling directly into the camera and Tom squatting in the darkness watching. The growth is slick and glossy, bright white like bone, with Joe beaming next to it introducing himself and the fungus to a crowd online. After an overly long preamble he produces a long dessert spoon and starts to nudge the wobbly orb; he lists the different features of the various suggestions from experts saying what should come out when he bursts the fruit. With a dramatic face he pierces the fruit and lets out a strangled cry. The spoon sticks where he stabs it but flicks left and right as the eye growing out of the wall looks around frantically with clear goo gushing out. Quickly grabbing his equipment he scrambles onto his feet and runs away. The other eyes open and focus on the injured eye, the spoon clanging onto the ground as it slips out. Tom watches with morbid fascination, disgusted but elated at something so new and novel. After an hour, the injured eye has fully deflated and the clear white of the sclera is dark and papery. Tom creeps up to the eyes in the wall and looks at them. He knows disgust, specifically what it is to be the object of disgust, and a feeling of being needed and useful but hated. The strange sensation of understanding what it is to be a shelter to vermin, rejects of society and of a strange predator who stalks without killing. He looks away, and the laneway comes back into focus. Steeling himself he looks back into the dimly aware eyes. To be a laneway is not to really exist as a singular thing but rather a holistic collection of spaces and barriers forming a place and function but with baggage. Blinking, Tom walks away from the eyes he had gotten lost in. Time has barely passed but it feels like hours. He vomits as the adrenaline crests and falls out of his body. It's like the first time he had gone into the room of one of his sleeping subjects but this time there's payoff, not the cold emptiness of an unanswered question. It strikes him: he's done it, he has peered through the windows of the soul and seen what it was to be an alleyway. He comes back and looks at but not into the eyes. He looks at the spoon and sees the goo of the burst eye has anchored into the beginning of a new fruit. Tom puts the spoon into a ziplock bag he keeps for his occasional foraging and vanishes into the night.

In little over a month Peeping Tom has learnt how to inoculate objects with the eyes and care for them while they matured. The eye will eventually open on its own and softly look about its environment and then Tom stares into the eye, passing through into the soul of the object. The spoon is a simple thing to know; he learns over time that the older an object is or the more complicated it’s relationship with the world the deeper he can go in understanding. Discrete objects in the room dimly reveal a secret where the room itself tells a grander story. Tom has fully abandoned his human subjects to pursue this new line of investigation. Antiques and abandoned spaces hold the most illuminating stories and secrets. The most beautiful is that of a derelict car from the seventies that has been slowly rusting in a lot cut off from the roads since long before Tom was born. What he experiences is looking back at a long life mixed with care and neglect; it was at one point the focus of love and pivotal to adventures; a baby had been born in it. It was precious and kept parked off the road when it wasn’t being used, admired for its beauty. Then it seems - and this feels more immediate - the love and care stopped, its safe parking space became an oubliette and it was more or less forgotten. Then animals and bugs started calling it home, small plants grew in the shelter of its chassis and as the rain and the elements took their toll its body became one with the ground it stood on. Finally he feels himself and its sudden spark of importance again to a person. It’s only a thing, but Tom feels a pang of empathy and sadness at the fate of it, looking at the car as a whole with its shattered windscreen grotesquely bedecked with staring eyes.

Eventually, as always happens when he finds a new line of inquiry, he becomes complacent, bored and greedy. He sits, staring aimlessly through his own window along with parts of his flat which had been given eyes months ago. A taboo plays across his thoughts - it seems wrong somehow, and for someone who transgresses boundaries so often this is a new and uncomfortable feeling - to give the Soul Eyes to a living being, assuming you could do that. For reasons he can't articulate the thought of inoculating a creature feels somehow forbidden as if it breaks some kind of universal unspoken rule. However the temptation to do it, and then learn the mysteries, is acute. His desires and hesitations chafe at each other, neither quite suppressing the other. Then circumstance makes the choice for him. Hanging from the ceiling, as plump as a cupcake, is a spider. Eight eyes sit in neat rows across its flat face, a ninth eye looking out from its swollen abdomen, blinking with bristly eyelids. Tom doesn't notice it immediately and lets out an undignified yelp when he stands and sees a singular monstrous eye staring him in the face. When he regains his composure he sees the spider climbing back up its silk and walking across the ceiling. The eye on its back is like the many others in his home but this has a different quality to it. A more palpable energy. It looks around more energetically and seemingly with more purpose although thankfully, much like the others, it does not appear to see what it's looking at. Any misgivings about deliberately infecting a living thing with the eyes vanish. It had been done without his hand in the matter and he is blameless. It is unreal, a dizzying experience, unlike any other he's had. The motives of the spider are relatively simple and based around survival but how it thinks of itself in the world is intriguing. It knows that it is separate from its environment and that other entities exist, some of which are dangerous and others not; in many ways it's much how Tom views the world. There are no great mysteries revealed by the spider’s soul; its life is too short and scope narrowed by its lifestyle so that it is similar to the smaller everyday objects Tom has looked into. But crucially it's so much more vividly intense, overriding the feeling of the car.

He yearns to go further and try it out on other creatures but the feeling of extreme doubt and active evil whenever he tries to plan for it overwhelms him, smothering his actions. But not the want. Tom just can’t bring himself to do it; his hands recoil and stomach churns. He has to return the rescue dog he adopted specifically for this purpose. Shame hangs around him like wet rope leaving him exhausted and cold. Why is he like this? All his wants and actions have led to this point, paralysed with worry, unable to rest with this unknowable desire to know everything. Never before, despite near misses and the laws of society, had he felt a twinge of guilt but now… what is this barrier and why can’t he either accept it and stop or move past it? Revelation, an epiphany! Tom knows exactly how to find the answer. He had never considered that he would contain secrets, mysteries unknown to himself. How could he be so short sighted? It's true of all his subjects and yet here he is, never once having considered looking within himself. The barrier to action doesn’t exist here it seems; he feels no hesitation. If anything he feels burgeoning euphoria. It seems fitting to place it within his belly button, from a practical aspect the inoculant can pool without risk of spilling across his body and more spiritually a third eye to navel gaze into has a symmetry about it. It takes a week to grow and it hurts the whole time. Fevers wrack his body and he feels himself becoming weaker. The skin around the growing eye is a livid red and he keeps a sterile bandage and patch to protect the eye from injury as he lays in agony, waiting. Then under the cotton he hears the gentle sound of eyelashes grazing the material. It worked and is now ready. Before the pain had set in fully Tom had prepared a space in his studio putting all of his stalking paraphernalia into the alley. In the center of the room lays a simple rug ringed with candles and a singular mirror fixed to the wall. It is in this sanctum that he will gaze within. He wishes he had prepared more, maybe anointed himself and really put the effort in. This would be the great human revelation, it deserves more ritual. However pain took those choices from him and he doesn’t want to risk painkillers on the developing eye just to get essential oils and an appropriate robe. He lights the candles and sits cross legged on the rug facing the mirror and removes the bandage, steeling himself. He takes a deep breath, wincing in pain and looks down into the eye that looks up at his face.

A subject of a story, an invented monster transgressing the boundaries of good and evil, not as an allegory but as entertainment. An unseen hand and unseen audience both unknowable and watching in perfect anonymity privy to his thoughts and motivations. He is a puppet, not even a person, forced into his choices and to pursue his goals without agency. Dawning realization that there is no greater truth to answer the gnawing question of why he could not get past his disgust, it was like this because of who he is: a monster in a horror story. And the unseen audience is bearing witness and watching the story unfold. He tries to tear his eyes away but is unable to as the eye looks back into him, bringing the true reality of his situation into focus: he is slowly fading away, horrified at what became of him but jealous of the special insights the anonymous audience of his story have. Tom stays stranded at the bottom of a dark well locked in introspection watching himself, watching himself being watched by himself.

[mallowstep]

Not sure if I’m sending this in the right place but, as someone who identifies as “centrist” in this whole anti pro thing (I don’t like either side, harassment and overzealous hatred over fictional characters bordering on obsession is unhealthy and definitely really harmful to minors in those spaces but a majority of proship shit I’ve come in contact with during my attempts to kinda figure myself out were also very black and white when it came to arguments over fictional depictions of certain topics, consumption of media and honestly at times reminded me of the fandom culture I was groomed in) I agree with you the most and genuinely enjoy a lot of what you write, and it’s refreshing to see someone else who has similar opinions and ways of handling these topics in their works with a nuance that people lack when looking at any of this stuff which infuriates me. I’d send this off anon but I do kind of fear backlash from outing my stance on this stuff — this whole controversy is dumb, I do wish people who could handle your approach on dark subjects gave your writing more of a chance, your mosspelt story was a very well put together piece on grooming and it’s effects while not being too graphic and focusing on an emotional journey and i really loved it, I wish people in general could use more nuance when looking at fiction and interactions with said fiction because these black and white arguments get us nowhere

[this ask was initially sent jan 31]

thank you so much for this ask.

(cw: i do not discuss any details of what certain fics contain, but i do discuss that i have written fics dealing with various kinds of abuse with some being graphic.)

the mosspelt piece is one of my proudest works, and i think it definitely...goes down the easiest? (in contrast with, say, no one held me to the flame, a concept i didn't expect any amount of support for or engagement with.)

i would like to take this moment to remind everyone that you don't have to engage with everything i write, just in case anyone needs to hear that today. if something is upsetting to you, don't read it. love to everyone.

anyway. as someone whose stance is tax paying adult/whatever is funniest/whatever people have decided today, i don't really like to acknowledge shipcourse. i've got friends who bear both labels, and they both agree with me. so. i think that pretty accurately describes how nonsensical this whole thing is, that two people on supposedly opposite sides can have the same opinions.

i was talking with one of my friends who has the same stance as me (altho, if forced to label ourselves, we would pick differently), and we were talking about how it ultimately comes down to how do we actually stop harm.

banning topics from ao3 doesn't stop harm. things will happen no matter what. you don't have to like it, but that's the reality. (for a tangible example of this happening, look into how FOSTA/SESTA made it harder for law enforcement to do their jobs.)

as some of y'all know, i was most engaged in this discourse when i was at a deep low point. (or high point, as it were, seeing as i was trending towards mania.) it's been a while since i've spoken on it because i needed a good long time out.

ultimately, characters on a screen or in a book do not matter and cannot be harmed. real people can. what matters to me is therefore the normalization of abuse.

a talking point that continues to bother me is the idea that just acknowledging something exists and happens is normalizing abuse. i think anyone who's read some of my fics can agree with that. i think if you read no one held me to the flame and manage to get off to it, or otherwise think it's normalizing abuse, then i'm a much worse writer than i thought. (i name nohmttf specifically because it goes as far as deliberately depicting the acts.)

i don't know where i'm going with this, just...it's all pretty senseless. if the super dark stuff like nohmttf isn't your cup of tea, i don't want you to read it. i want you to enjoy your time reading my fics.

[tsarisfanfiction]

3. 14. J. U. 🙃

Sorry this is a bit late, rl slammed me kinda hard last weekend...

I'll admit I'm guessing which numbered ones you're referencing because there were two numbered lists on the same day, oops, but as one of them needed a specific fic referenced I'm hoping I've got the right list!

3) Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Hmm... there are a few tropes around that I'm less fond of - ABO springs to mind immediately, as well as coffee shop AUs - but honestly I am a big fan of deconstructing and twisting tropes so if given the incentive and requisite curiosity of "I wonder how this would go if..." I don't think there's any trope that I would say I'd never write (I once said I'd never write a genderbend, then one happened, so...) I'm less likely to write most romance-based tropes, though, mostly because romance isn't something I generally enjoy writing quite so much.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Oof, that's a hard one. There's quite a few I ignore for one reason or another, mostly because I've reached the point where I write how I write and throwing something different into the equation is just gonna mess me up, but I wouldn't necessarily say they're bad because what works (or not) for me doesn't mean it doesn't (or does) work for someone else. We're all unique people, our minds work in unique ways, and different tips and tricks therefore work on all of us.

One that has screwed me over a few times though is "write at least x words a day". "x" varies, but for me I find that if I can't write that day, trying to force it just makes me hate everything, and then I feel guilty for not writing anything at all and it can take me a while to kick myself out of that and remind myself it's supposed to be a hobby. It's not a requirement, or a chore. This isn't school, or a job. This is something I do in my free time and I shouldn't force it.

J:  What’s your favourite fanfic trope?  Have you written it?

Back in the trope questions again, I see. I should admit that I'm actually bad at these because I can never actually identify "tropes" on demand, if that makes sense. I know a few core ones, but for the most part it's more "what sort of thing do I like?" and yes, I definitely write what I like! Caretaker needing to be taken care of is top of the list, probably, and anyone who reads my stuff will be very familiar with that creeping in!

That being said, if I had to pick a trope I haven't yet written but would like to experiment with one day... Soulmark AUs. They fascinate me, although (like Hanahaki Disease, another one I love to read) there's a prevalence of it being romantic soulmates in almost all the fics I've read, and I have a definite preference for platonic soulmates. But then again, I managed to write a familial Hanahaki, so maybe one day I'll manage to write a soulmark AU that fits both the trope and my own desire for more platonic/familial love fics taking centre stage.

U: Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet.

Eh, if I'm honest I'm less fussed about writing ships and more platonic pairings, or ones that could fall either way (see: CaeJose from JJBA, which is a fandom I have yet to write for at all). And when we look at platonic relationships, oh there's so many I'd love to dabble in at some point.

That being said, I have just remembered one bizarre One Piece kinda crackship I came up with a few years ago and thought that I might write it but so far haven't... (it was gonna be a Wano arc AU and I thought it up before Wano happened... we're now the other side and needless to say "AU" doesn't even start to cover it ahaha)

Oh, and how could I forget Kaito/Aoko from Detective Conan/Magic Kaito. Admittedly I have something half-baked sat in my drafts so technically I have written something for them, but I've not finished anything worth posting for them. Then again, I've also yet to write any Shinichi/Ran or Heiji/Kazuha, either.

40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Hey Ralph this is probably a weird thing to ask on here, but do you have any advice on how to “live your own life?” It’s so corny, but I feel like I’ll never be able to break the hold my parents have over me the older I get. I’m in my early 20s, but I still feel like a kid who can just never do anything right in their parents eyes or live up to their standards. They always have something to say about my choice of major, my job and how I’m “not making a lot”. Or about how my cousin is doing this and that and they’re making more than me or doing the same thing I’m doing but on a bigger scale. And I feel like such a kid because I still try to do things to appease them to make up for how much I disappoint them, like wearing clothes they approve of or not getting piercings even though I want to. I hate that I feel like such a child. But even more, I hate that I don’t even trust that I’m making the right decisions and that I don’t believe in my ability to succeed anymore. I cant even imagine myself not caring about what they have to say or doing what I want even though I know they’ll disapprove. And we come from a culture where the kids don’t just move out, so I can’t even imagine moving out although I want to. (I’m also seeking therapy through my college, but there’s a long wait list so I’m trying to find ways to manage this on my own and not feel like I’m drowning all the time). But do you have any advice on this or felt this way at all?

Oh anon - it's not a weird thing to ask at all. I'm so sorry for what you're going through.

Reading this, it sounds to me like the way your parents are behaving is the problem and not you. You seem to blame yourself a lot for responding in the wrong way to people whose controlling criticism bothers you. What if you gave up the idea that there's a way you could respond that what stop the way they were treating hurting you. What if you gave yourself credit for what you are doing (identifying the problem and seeking help)?

I've got three other pieces of advice - I've no idea if they'll resonate with you at all, definitely take what's useful and ignore what's not.

The first is read Captain Awkward. Start with this letter and read the follow-up and explore from there. I think she has really good advice on setting boundaries and making space for yourself in difficult family environments.

My second piece of advice is make space to find out who you are away from your parents. College is a really good place to do this - it's a place with a lot of people and a lot of space. There are lots of different ways to experiment. You could start dressing differently, just while you were on campus. Is there an art form you're interested in? Can you join a group of people who are also doing that? Or take a class. (And if there's not on campus maybe somewhere else where you live). Or join another group - there will be all sorts of groups for politics, hobbies, sports, and just straight up being weird together and enjoying it. Try them out. Leave if you don't like it. One way that people figure out who they are at your age (or any age) is trying to be lots of different people.

The beautiful thing (and the scary thing) about being a person is that there are no right answers into who you are and it's not fixed.

You also asked for my own experience - and this is it: the thing that was most important to forming a good relationship with my parents was living in the same city as them, but not in their house. The first time I had a fight with my Mum after I'd moved out was transformative - I didn't have to go back. I could set boundaries. I had control I'd never had before. It's like the entire dynamic of our relationship twisted on its axis.

I wasn't sure if it was useful to say that - given you say that in your culture people don't move out from your parents. But my third piece of advice is that if you feel an instinct that not living with your parents would be good for your wellbeing - then you're probably right.

I'm obviously in no position to advise you how to navigate that - and my advice isn't 'just do it'. Instead my advice is much smaller - maybe start day dreaming about moving out. Notice when people you know do move out from their parents - what made that possible? What resources might make it possible - even if they seem very far away (would money help? certain sorts of relationships? A job of some type or another?)

It sounds to me that you know what would help, but it seems impossible to get. I have definitely been in that position - terrified of wanting things I can't have. Letting yourself want things that seem impossible can be an important first step.

Good luck anon - and I'd love for you to come back any time with more thoughts, questions or experiences. And more than anything else I want to emphasise that you're really young, growing up is a process that you will figure out and you have a lot of time.

[contentwriter15]

Factors to Consider When Hiring a Content Writer

Good day! It's likely that if you're reading this, you're looking for a skilled content writer. You're in the correct place, I suppose. Finding the ideal content writer for your purposes is really important, and as someone who has been in the content production industry for a while, I am well aware of this. They speak for your company and establish a connection with your audience. But how can you pick the best writer when there is a sea of them?

Don't worry; I'll walk you through the key elements you should take into account when selecting a content writer in this blog post. I'll cover everything, from knowledge and expertise to communication and passion. So let's get started and make sure you locate the writer who can make your thoughts come to life.

Define Your Goals and Needs

It's critical to precisely identify your objectives and requirements prior to beginning your search for a content writer. Do you need social media postings, product descriptions, blog pieces, or all of the above? Finding a writer with the correct experience will be easier if you are aware of your precise criteria.

Skills and Expertise 

Writing for the web is not a universal ability. Different specialized writing styles and knowledge are needed. For instance, writing for technical content necessitates expertise in that area, whereas writing for creative content requires a talent for storytelling. Check the writer's portfolio to make sure their abilities match the requirements for your material.

Experience

Even though everyone begins off somewhere, experience counts. A seasoned content writer is likely to have overcome a variety of obstacles and is able to modify their approach depending on the job. Find a writer who has a history of submitting high-caliber work on a regular basis.

Adaptability 

The digital environment is always evolving. The writer of your material needs to be flexible and open to picking up new skills. Inquire about their flexibility and commitment to staying current in their industry.

Communication

In every cooperation, effective communication is essential. A content writer should be able to communicate to your audience your brand's voice and message. Make sure they are accommodating and receptive to criticism.

Research Skills

A crucial component of content production is research. In order to deliver accurate and trustworthy information in their job, a professional content writer should be skilled at performing research. Inquire about the resources and research methodology used.

SEO Knowledge

Search engine optimization (SEO) is essential in the online world. Your content creator should have a fundamental understanding of on-page optimization and keyword research. Your internet presence can be improved by using SEO-friendly content.

Originality

Make sure that the writer you choose is dedicated to creating unique material. You can confirm this with tools like plagiarism checkers.

Time Management

Any project including material must adhere to timelines. An effective time manager is essential for producing quality material. Ask them if they can complete an excellent job on time while working under a deadline.

Passion for Writing

The likelihood that a content writer will create interesting and persuading content increases if they are passionate about what they do. Seek out authors who sincerely appreciate language and the art of writing.

Portfolio and Samples

Ask for a writer's portfolio and samples of their previous work. You'll get a clearer notion of their writing quality, variety, and style after doing this.

Conclusion

It could be challenging to select the best writer for your task among the many that are offered. By carefully considering the points I've raised, you may significantly increase your chances of finding a content writer that not only meets but also exceeds your expectations. To succeed, keep in mind that you must possess more than just knowledge and expertise; you must also possess outstanding communication skills, a passion for your line of work, and the adaptability to meet your unique requirements. Take your time and ask questions if anything during the hiring process is confusing to you. Any company owner, marketing manager, or business person might gain a lot from hiring a skilled content writer. They can assist you in interacting with clients and growing your company.

[icyxmischief]

I honestly cannot stand the Loki fandom on tumblr anymore. This is the most toxic, hateful fandom I've encountered in a long, long time. I don't know how you've managed to stay for so long, but I've always enjoyed your content and wish you the best of luck going forward here. I don't think I've ever been so disappointed or outright ashamed of a fandom before, but this series has really brought a whole lot of ugliness out of Loki's. And it's such a shame, because it wasn't always this bad.

Friend, it makes me so sad that you feel this way. I know from negative experience in other fandom spaces what you're going through. It's really painful because we come to fandom with an earnest piece of ourselves that we want to share, project or INject, into characters who resonate with us, for any variety of reasons. This means each of us has a very personal, individual, and sometimes fever-pitched stake in how our "comfort character" is portrayed in canon.

This fandom angst derives from a couple of logical fallacies which I wanna spell out here, and from which, I hope, you can free yourself, in order to remain in a psychological space where you can still enjoy the things you love. <3 No really. I am a 38-year-old, successful professional, I have been around the block with fandom discourse and "grown-up real-world" intellectual discourse, and I am telling you, THIS is how I've "lasted this long":

1) Fallacy One: "Canon is the "most real" version of characterization." No. We don't even have to go into "Death of the Author, baybee" or Reception Theory or any of the other stuff in 20th and 21st century media crit to refute this. Simply put: you experience the media. The media exists in a wholly fictional realm anyway. The only difference is money/resources and breadth of audience. Your experience and, say, Kevin Feige's, or Kate Herron's, are all equally "real." Your Variant of the Sacred Canon (I DO think they're being that meta with the fans in the Loki series, yes), if you will, deserves to exist as much as the one Tom Hiddleston acts out on screen. You have a right to the Loki that exists in your head. 2) Fallacy Two: Seemingly opposite but often entwined with Fallacy One, as a defense/coping mechanism against Fallacy One: "My version is the 'most valid' version, and departure from my version equates lack of authenticity or effort, or, most dangerous of all, moral/ethical inferiority." No. We all have the right to the Loki in our heads. Now this one is trickier, admittedly, because the people who gravitate to characters like Loki tend to share his experience with social Othering/marginalization and trauma. That means that if you tell them "you're wrong, and stop getting in my face and being so aggressive," you could be accused (indeed, perhaps rightfully) of tone-policing someone who identifies with a marginalized group (racially, in terms of ability, in terms of gender identity or sexual orientation, etc). The best thing, therefore, for you to do is acknowledge that your readings of the "text" (here, a tv show) differ, and that you respectfully decline to discuss the matter. Even if it rankles you, don't engage. These people have a very personal stake in the media and in essence, it's kindest to let them depart to be angry in their own space.

3) Connected closely to the above, “What we condone in fiction equates what we condone in reality,” God, no. Much ink has been spilled by more eloquent writers on this, so I won’t expound. But don’t go there. Don’t fall for that. Lol. It leads only to misery. 

Habits I would encourage, to avoid Big Fandom Wank:

1) When you see content you don't like, especially spoken in an incendiary or absolutist manner, block or unfollow. Do not engage directly. Vent about it in your own space if you must, or better yet, in private, to trusted friends. If you engage, which...sometimes it IS worth it to do so, if something has real personal significance to you as a consumer of that media, then be braced for people to be rude or even abusive, because human beings, especially in internet spaces, are messy emotional creatures who leap to conclusions without gauging for nuance. There is disagreement over different and valid interpretations of content, and then there is just being unpleasant on principle.

2) See advice in Fallacy Two re avoiding tone-policing.

3) Find your people and curate your dash strictly. This can be ten people or it can be two. Make a close-knit small group in a private space for all your sharing of ideas. Make sure these are people you trust, who, when you spend time consuming the media with them, make you feel better, not worse.

4) Unfollow liberally. Block liberally. You don't owe anyone your time, energy, or, especially, happiness. People will accuse you of cowardice or "running away from a grown-up debate." Let them. It's pitiable, in perspective. They're insecure and sad and they need to say manipulative things. But you know better, don't you? You're just preserving your peace of mind.

5) If you mess up, go quiet for a while, take a break from social media, and it will blow over. I promise. Delete anon hate (and know that you can block the sender, even an anon, on Tumblr, too!).

--------

Friend, thank you for your kind words. I'm so sorry you're so sad. I hope I see you here again someday. <3

Anyone who needs a boost can reblog this advice, btw.

[alison-anonymous]

I Want to Write a Mikayuu Series

Okay.

So um.

If you're reading this, HELLO. All of you long time ONS fans probably don't know me, but I'm Alison and I'm a hardcore Mikayuu, Mitsunoa, Gureshin, etc shipper. I've been in the ONS fandom for almost a year and dear god. The amount of people telling me that Mikayuu is queerbait is just making me really sad 😅 I'm a writer, and I'm the type of person who honestly feels like the author of a series should have the ability to choose how a story ends without influence of their readers. I mean, if it's their story, then it should be their ending, right? However, I also do have some qualms when it comes to how this "love triangle" between Yu, Mika, and Shinoa is being portrayed. This is entirely my personal opinion, but I feel like Shinoa seems to be forcing herself to love Yu. I honestly don't think she cares for him in a romantic way, but more of a very deep-rooted admiration or even envy that she's trying to convince herself to be romantic love. And Yu has said multiple times that he values Mika's life above his own, that he doesn't know what he would do without him if he were to die again (I mean the fact that he suffered seeing his best friend and potential lover die a first time was definitely scarring enough, PLEASE STOP TORTURING OUR POOR BABIES). And it's basically confirmed by now that when Mika said I love you in the manga, it was in the romantic sense. Even though I wish, I hope, I dream, and I pray that Mikayuu will become canon, I honestly can't say for certain what I think will happen. I think it could sway any way, with Mikayuu becoming canon, Yu and Shinoa becoming canon, or it being one of those ambiguous endings where it's heavily implied but nothing actually happens. And in order to make myself feel better when stuff like this happens, I tend to rewrite the entire story with the ending that I would have liked to see ;)

You're probably wondering where the hell this stranger is going with this. Well, I want to write a book. A series, actually.

One that's inspired by Seraph of the End.

Now, if you're interested in hearing me out, then feel free to keep reading. But if not, continue on with your scrolling, no hard feelings. But if you do, and I really hope that you do, give me a chance to explain.

I want to write a series inspired by Seraph of the End called Bloodsucker (working title, obviously). And this series is going to be a reimagination of ONS with an ending that I would have loved to see in the anime and manga. I plan to have three main characters (please keep in mind that I'm going to have name changes): Yuichiro, Mikaela, and a brand new character, Epic.

Now, I would begin this series a bit before the anime and I'm assuming the manga begins. I'd start with introducing our main three characters as they meet in the orphanage (yes, Epic would be a part of this orphanage as well) and how Epic and Yu try to make moves to run away only to be stopped by Mika and Akane.

I plan to include a scene between Epic and Akane where Epic tries to run out in the middle of the night only to be stopped by Akane, and this is what caused Epic to develop a crush on her (Epic is a girl btw). Then I would begin the whole shit with the vampires and how they set the world on fire and shit, but instead of the apocolypse, I'd make it so that most of the adults died in the fire while the kids were taken alive (because young blood is better and whatnot). This includes our little Hyakuya family. The directors would have tried to trade the kids lives for their own, and due to their selfishness, the vamps killed them and took the kids anyway.

This would begin my first story arc: the prewar.

Epic, Akane, Mika, and Yu would all be living under the vampires at this point along with the rest of the kids in their orphanage. I plan to include lots of moments of bonding that heavily imply Epic loves Akane even though she doesn't know it yet and Mika loves Yu, but Yu is fucking oblivious. The four begin to plot their escape, but while Mika and Akane (yes Akane too) are making deals with the vampires to help out with their family, Epic is constantly finding herself getting dragged along to visit Queen Krul. The pink haired vamp has a soft spot for her for some reason and often tells her that Epic and her family are "special" or sum shit. And she's super confused and semi grossed out. But none of the vamps ever dare to hurt her so she thinks it's fine. Then one day they all plot their escape and it's much more planned out and lengthy and less rushed than it is in the anime. Things almost seem to work out until the vampires stop them

And Mika and Akane DIE.

I know. I'm horrid.

Epic is standing here in shock as she watches the love of her life die before her and Mika BEGS for Yu to take Epic and run while they can. So while in the series only Yu survives, he obeys Mika and both him and Epic survive this. They're found by Guren (a new character I haven't come up with yet lol) and Yu is super protective over Epic, not wanting anyone to take the only piece of his family he has left (he's a fucking mess without Mika let's just be honest) and Guren ends up taking them under his wing.

Now we hit the second arc. Still with me?

The War.

Hold onto your hats everyone because this is where shit is about to get complicated. So I do plan to have a bit of a time skip into the current spot where Yu and Epic are attending school with Guren as their father figure and they've become very close. So close that Yu refuses to work with anyone else but her. They end up getting onto Shinoa Squad (obviously going to be completely different in my version) and they get put onto the battlefield. But here's the catch. Well, two catches.

Yu and Epic do have demon weapons. I do plan to try to incorporate that into this. BUT the backstory is different. I plan to make it so that the vampires obviously see the humans as fies. Insignificant things that are more playthings than threats. And they didn't want to have to deal with killing all of them, so they sent demons in their place to handle it. But the humans were able to form deals or "contracts" with the demons and therefore turned the vampires' own secret weapon against them.

Now, catch no. 2

So, Epic, Mika, and Yu aren't seraphs in this. But they are something else. I'm going to try to explain this as simply as I can, but each of them (besides Mika since he doesn't have a demon) have 3 souls inside their body:

Soul 1 is their current soul, the one that identifies as Mika or Epic or Yu.

Soul 2 is their demon soul, like what Asuramaru is to Yu.

And soul 3 is their archangel soul (I might change that name later on).

So I'm just going to come right out and say it. In this series, Epic is the villain.

Yes.

You read that right.

Epic is the villain. But she doesn't know that she is. These Soul 3s were reincarnated into the current bodies of Mika, Epic, and Ari (and I know that's not exactly how it works but screw logic this is just a fucking concept) from their lives centuries ago.

These souls existed way before vampires existed and Epic (or Essie) was very close friends with Yu (or Aytigin). Aytigin was in love with Haru (Mika) but for one reason or another, they couldn't be together. Essie wanted to do something, willing to do anything to make the two of them happy. So she made a deal that brought the vampires into creation so that Haru and Aytigin could be happy. She was willing to sacrifice everything that they stood for so that the two of them could be in love together.

She had good intentions, but of course Haru and Aytigin were furious because now the vampires were turning against the humans and they all basically died. Until they were reborn respectively, but unknowingly.

Now picking back up in the present, Yu and Epic are fighting in one of the main battles and the two are very confused when the vampires make a very deliberate attempt not to hurt Epic. They're unsure as to why, but Guren tells them not to worry about it.

Suspicious bastard.

Anyway, it's revealed finally that MIKA IS ALIVE

BUT HE'S ALSO DEAD

Yes he is a vampire. And Yu falls in love all over again upon seeing him, and after a bunch of struggling, Epic gets kidnapped. At first she gets strangled by Lacus and then she gets kidnapped by Ferid who doesn't kill her surprisingly.

Oh and uh... Ferid is nice in this. He's still a fucking creep, but he's a lot nicer than he is in the series. I plan to make Queen Krul or whoever I turn her into be the villain.

Anyway, they take Epic back to the vampire palace or whatever and Queen Krul and Epic are reunited! And Krul is the one who reveals to Epic exactly who she, Mika, and Yu are and this is what sparks Epic's fall to insanity.

I mean, she's the killer. She's the one who brought them into this world. She's responsible for every death the vampires cause.

I would go crazy too.

So, she manages to escape (partially thanks to Mika) and the two join Yu and the others again and it's revealed a second time exactly what is going on. And while no one actually blames Epic on the Shinoa Squad, that doesn't stop people like Kureto and even herself from blaming.

And this causes her demon to go haywire.

She begins losing her marbles, almost killing her teammates and trying to kill herself, all while the three begin to experience dreams or visions of their Soul 3s.

While all this shit is going on, there's heavy romance between Mika and Yu because these two lovers just got reunited and FUCK did they have glow ups but yes -

Oh. And there is another spark for Epic, even though she doesn't think she's worthy of love.

Okay. I'm just gonna say it.

Lacus falls in love with Epic. Yes. You read that correctly too.

I plan to make the two of them get trapped together at some point and they have to work together to escape. It's during this time that Epic realizes he's not all that bad and has some form of self control and he realizes that she's the most interesting thing he's ever met in this disgusting and boring life and damn do her eyes look pretty-

But yes. She forms a permanent alliance with him that he jokes about as marriage and they meet on other occassions too, but lol yes.

Anyway, blah blah blah, more fall to insanity, the Soul 3s take over their bodies on multiple occasions and there's a lot of bonding and fighting and Epic and Mika somehow manage to get some of the vampires on the human side.

And in the end, Epic and Yu basically sacifice themselves to save the human race and kill Queen Krul. It's a very rough ending I haven't quite perfected yet, but Yu has a moment like he did with the King of Salt. But though he inflicted a lot of damage, it's not enough. So while the team is worried about him, Epic takes this opportunity to fix her and Essie's mistakes.

She allows both Essie and her demon to take control of her body and dies on the battlefield. Queen Krul is eliminated. Most of the vampires are gone. The humans won.

Horray.

Epic is dead.

Kinda. Yu and Mika take her back home and this is the preview to the last arc where everyone's in the hospital and Epic's in a coma. Mika and Yu barely ever leave her side and it's only when Lacus of all people comes to visit that she fucking wakes up.

Okay. Are you still with me? Now come with me to the final arc.

The Post-War.

No my friend. It doesn't end there. Because Mika and Lacus are still vamps and life still sucks and I drank too much coffee this morning.

No it's not over yet.

So flash forward a couple years and Kureto and Crew are working as the heads of this city. Stuff is being rebuilt, people are settling down in homes, Lacus and some of the other "good" vampires find jobs, and Mika, Yu, and Epic get a house together (in case I didn't mention before, Epic is pansexual. She loved Akane dearly and I plan to include scenes where she sees her in her mind and dreams like Mikayuu so she's never truly gone, but she falls for Lacus too when he's not being a sadistic asshole). Things are going strangely when

BAM. Epic and Yu come up with a cure for vampirism.

How, you may ask? I don't fucking know, I haven't read about it in the manga yet but before we come up with an idea for it, imma say they came up with it through a spell. They share their findings with Guren and soon all vampires are being cured, most notably Mika, Lacus, and even Rene.

BUT and there's always a but, Kureto passes a new law claiming all vampires to be property. That any vampire or previous vampire or even vampire supporter/owner that tries to disobey these new laws is to be killed immediately. Now Epic and Yu are in jeopardy because their ex-vampires are in danger (Epic and Lacus have been hanging out a lot more and he's proven himself to be a decent guy. Contrary to popular belief, I headcanon him as not really knowing what to do when he actually cares about someone since he's been a heartless vamp for so long. So when he turns to Mika and begrudgingly asks him for LOVE ADVICE of all fucking things, Mika is ready to die). So basically, Mika and Lacus end up getting locked up along with the other ex-vamps (including Ferid which was a pain in the ass) and did I forget to mention that there's a proposal?

Oh yeah, Yu proposes to Mika and the blond still has yet to give him an actual answer because poor baby is still having a hard time accepting that Yu can love a "monster" like him.

But anyways, now Epic and Yu are furious and SHINOA SQUAD IS BACK IN BUSINESS. With the help of Guren and Shinya and everyone, they form a sort of rebellion and blah blah blah they manage to get Mika and Lacus and everyone out and blah blah blah they all get separated and Lacus begins to get INSANELY protective of Epic and ends up confessing his feelings to her before he nearly dies and blah blah blah did I forget to mention that I'm making Mitsunnoa and Kimizuki x Yoichi canon and blah blah blah.

Epic kisses Lacus as an instinct. Lacus kisses her again. Mika accepts Yu's proposal then almost dies AGAIN. I kill off some characters for emotional tugs and after a ton of more fighting and revenge and psychological breakings later, Kureto is killed. And Guren (or someone else haven't decided yet) is the new head of their city.

Epic, Mika, and Yu finally let Akane and the kids go. There's a lot of Shinoa Squad bonding but this is a summary so I haven't included much besides the main three. Epic and Lacus becomes canon. Mika and Yu get married. Guren and Shinya get married. Shinoa gets pregnant.

And everyone gets the FUCKING HAPPY ENDING THAT THEY ALL FUCKING DESERVE BECAUSE FUCK

I do plan to be slightly ruthless like the creator and include a lot of heartbreaking scenes, but it's going to be much different than ONS but I still want it to hold on to some core relationships.

I just want them to be happy. And I just want to make other people happy because fuck I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY

So. Yeah.

That's Bloodsucker...

So my question to you is... if I wrote this shit.

If I sat down and typed about 30 books roughly inspired by Seraph of the End and Mikayuu and Mitsunnoa and shit...

Would anyone read it?

♡ a.a.

[artstorieshusbandos]

Tale of Two Tragedies-Theo's route (Ikemen Vampire) **spoilers**

Tragedy #1 Exhibit A

I honestly half expected him to haul off and draw a masterpiece in the tavern notebook. Not because he's a Van Gogh but because there's almost no way someone with his appreciation for art , his eye for it and his hardcore determination wouldn't have managed to at least be drawing on the side for enjoyment.

This scene would have gone down a little differently if I had actually been in MC's place. MC, it seems, doesn't do art. I've been at least scribbling since I was a kid that figured out I could rub the paint off my toys onto the wall. I would not have noticed the notebook on the counter, but ever since we left the private gallery earlier I'd been dying to ask him if he'd ever done any art. I daydreamed about asking while I was waiting for my tickets to replenish Why?

This isn't the voice of someone who doesn't want to do art.

Usually when someone tells me they can't draw I find out one of 3 things. They either don't really want to draw or at least they have other things they'd much rather put their time into which is fair. They actually can draw but have fallen into the trap of undervaluing their own work which may or may not be a result of comparing their work to the work of others. Then there's the third crowd that has the desire to do it, puts in the time but can't get anywhere because they are trying to draw from their left brain.

What am I talking about? I'm sure you may have heard that our brains have two halves and that the left half is connected to logic, mathematics, language, symbolism, ect, and the right brain is associated with imagination, creativity, music, spatial relations, distances, ect. Most of us don't know how that actually relates to someone's ability to draw or paint. The truth is art is something all humans can do to some degree. How good you manage to get is one part the desire to do it, one part putting in the practice and one part how well you can get your left brain to give over control to the right brain.

Vincent and Theo are such wonderful examples of what I'm getting at here with the whole left brain/right brain thing. Vincent is right brain dominant and I know this not because he's a talented artist but because it's a fact that Vincent Van Gogh is left handed. Our dominant hands are opposite our dominant brains. Theo is clearly left brain dominant not only because we can see it in his organizational and business skills we can see how he's talking in the second image where he's trying to draw King. He's thinking about drawing fur and eyes and the components of the dog not the forms. The parts are all named and labeled....this is left brain thinking. Compare it to how he talks when he is observing paintings and pushing the technical aside to just let it speak to him. This is the mode he needs to be in to create but he's trying to attack it with his stronger mode which is his left brain mode. It doesn't matter how much you practice if you are practicing the wrong thing.

The other pitfall he's hit is comparing himself to Vincent. As an artist never ever ever ever compare yourself to anyone but the you from yesterday. There will always be someone "better" than you and "better" will always be subjective. Vincent got a head start being right brained. When his brain reaches for it's stronger side it's going to pull from the correct one automatically.

Maybe at this point you're wondering why I spent so much time analyzing a fictional character in this manner? Honestly it breaks my heart to see him like this and though I know he's fictional I also know there are many many Theo's in this world who have given up because they don't know what's holding them back or that it can be conquered. I wrote this for them.

If this is you and you'd like to see what you're truly capable of do this one really easy exercise. Find a picture of something you'd like to draw. Draw it as best you can. If all you can do is draw a stick then draw that stick. Then take that same image and flip it upside down and draw it again. The reason for doing this is to force the left brain to let the right brain work. The left brain doesn't like to work with anything it can't define and slap a label on. When you flip the image upside down it makes it so the left brain can't properly identify the subject. It has no choice but to shut up and let the right brain work. Compare your two drawings. I was astonished the first time I did this. I no longer have my original upright drawing from the first time I tried this technique but I do have the first drawing I ever did upside down. Here it is.

Granted I had been drawing for years upright already but if you need a point of reference as to where I was in my skill when I started training my left brain to sit down here's another drawing from the same year.

Quite a bit of technical difference.

If this exercise worked for you and you're interested in learning more about how to train your brain for better art this is the book that taught me.

I recommend this book to any artist that hasn't read it. It's been the biggest help I've ever gotten on my journey. I don't know if Amazon is the best place to get a copy or not I didn't price match I just put up the first link I came to so you might want to shop around.

Tragedy #2 Exhibit B

Here is one of the last pieces I completed.

It was done in 2012. That's right.....it's been damn near a decade since I've turned out a completed art piece. It would probably break Theo's heart even more to know that there are people out here like me that have talent and aren't using it while he would love to do it and can't seem to. In fact he'd probably dump my ass if we were actually dating before he found out. I felt guilty before but now it's guilt x 1000. Are any of you out there in the same boat as me? Anyone out there that managed to get out of the rut that might have some tips for me? Maybe I should take some requests? What would you all like to see me draw?

Also if you're interested in seeing more of my stuff my gallery is collecting dust here

Theo has everything he needs to be a great artist. He has the eye for aesthetics, he has the desire and commits himself to everything. In his time psychology is in it's infancy. He doesn't even know yet what he doesn't know. If I was wrong about this and he still couldn't draw after a few training sessions I guess I'd have to start making him paint by number kits. He can pick the subject and the colors I'll map out the design and we'll do it together.

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 10

Chapter: 10/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: "I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

If it all falls down, falls down, falls down

I can warm a crowd, I can make them shout

I can juggle verbs, adverbs, and nouns

I can make them dance 'til they all fall down

Janus woke up exhausted, which really wasn't fair considering the amount that he'd been sleeping lately.

Someone was stroking his hair, which was nice. Probably Remus. Remus wouldn't care that Janus' hair was stiff with dried sweat and that he hadn't brushed his teeth in who even knew how many days.

He shifted and nuzzled Remus' thigh.

Realization dawned slowly. Remus' nails were longer than this, Remus didn't smell like this, Remus had never sat still like this.

Janus couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed at the mix-up. He was too tired and sore to really care who was petting his hair like this.

Except that it was probably Patton.

Subconsciously, Janus pulled the teddy bear closer to his chest. It had to be subconscious, because he would never cuddle a stuffed toy on purpose.

Janus opened his eyes.

Patton withdrew his hand like he'd been burned. "I'm sorry," he said, cheeks coloring. "Did I wake you up?"

Janus shook his head. His skin still tingled where Patton had touched him and he wanted it back so badly , but he didn't know how to ask.

"Remus made me promise I'd go get him next time you woke up. Well. Logan made me promise. Remus threatened me. Anyway!" Patton was already halfway to the door.

He was gone before Janus found his voice. "Don't go," Janus whispered to the air.

A moment later, Remus came barreling in with Logan in hot pursuit. Then came Virgil, then Patton again, and finally Roman.

Logan lunged forward to try to catch the back of Remus' shirt, but he was just a split second too late. Janus braced for impact, but Remus only fell on his knees by the bedside and pulled Janus into a tight hug.

"Awww," Patton cooed from the doorway.

"I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"

Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

Remus pulled back and made a lewd hand gesture. "Scout's honor?"

Janus manipulated Remus' fingers into the correct position and held his own hand up as well. "Scout's honor."

Remus nodded in apparent satisfaction, so Janus grabbed his shoulder and used it to haul himself upright. Virgil and Patton fidgeted by his desk while Roman leaned against the doorway and Logan hovered behind Remus.

"Well," Janus said, trying to sound better than he felt. "As you can see, I've died. Virgil will handle my estate, so please direct your concerns to him."

"Like I want all your pretentious steampunk crap," Virgil mumbled, looking around at the leather and brass and hardwood.

"It's art deco," Janus and Logan said at the same time, albeit with very different intonation.

Janus squinted at Logan, who seemed to take this as his cue to speak. "You need to eat something."

"Like a dick!" Remus crowed.

Janus sighed, expecting an uproar, but nothing more dramatic than general collective eye-rolling and awkward throat-clearing occurred in response.

Logan carried on, "Something light like chicken broth or dry toast." He cocked an eyebrow, indicating that this was a question.

"Goodness, however shall I choose," Janus said, trying and failing to keep the venom out of his voice. He did better on stage than he did under a microscope, yet here everyone was, studying him. It was all he could do not to squirm.

Patton's voice echoed in his ears suddenly:

He never asks for anything, he just talks around it until you figure it out on your own.

"Could you…" Janus balled both hands into fists. "I want…" He squeezed his eyes shut and expelled a breath through his nose."I just love that you're all in here staring at me. It's not awkward at all. " He fixed his gaze on the ceiling, only just managing to hold back a frustrated curse. Another failure. Another reason for the others to go back to hating him.

"Oh, gosh!" Patton said, but he didn't sound hurt or angry. "We're sorry; it's probably overwhelming to have us all in here at once, huh?"

Janus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The feeling had grown uncomfortably familiar as of late.

"We'll let Logan look you over," Patton said. He shuffled out of the room after Roman, waving for Virgil to follow him.

Remus winked and wiggled his tongue at Janus. "Have fun playing doctor." He bounded out and shut the door behind him.

"So," Janus said, fidgeting with one of the teddy bear's ears. "He and Roman can stand to be in the same room as each other now?"

"It helps that they were both quite worried about you," Logan said. A pause. "As was I." He preoccupied himself clearing off a space on Janus' nightstand, willing a plate of dry toast into existence, then methodically taking the cap off a bottle of Gatorade and inserting a white bendy straw.

"Plastic straws are killing the sea turtles, you know," Janus said.

Logan looked at him, puzzled. "Rest assured, this one will not and indeed, cannot find its way into the water supply." A moment later he said, "Oh. You were making a joke."

"It's polite to laugh."

"Please excuse my rudeness, then."

Janus smiled. "I think Remus likes you," he said to cut the tension.

Logan tilted his head at the nightstand. "Why?"

Janus took the hint and began pulling the crust off a piece of toast. "I just have a feeling."

"Hm." Logan thinned his lips, but did not press the issue.

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

"What happened? When I was…"

"Incapacitated?"

"Sure."

Logan pushed up his glasses. "You were in a state of delirium for approximately five days. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Clearly? I had a conversation with Patton about… certain choices I had made in regards to Roman." Logan raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. "It gets hazy after that. You and Patton were in my room, I think. And… I'm not totally sure this happened, but I seem to recall trying to apologize to Roman."

Logan nodded. "You did. Then you fainted in his room, and the ensuing chaos actually led to the temporary resolution of several interpersonal conflicts we had been experiencing."

"Just according to plan," Janus said, steepling his fingers. Logan didn't laugh. "Another joke."

"Please eat your toast."

"Alright, alright." Janus finished picking the crust off one slice and took a hesitant bite.

"Good." Logan nodded in approval. "To further answer your question, Remus has enacted a truce with Patton, Roman, and Virgil. Which essentially means that he agreed to 'tone down' his more distracting behaviors and the others would refrain from, ah…" Logan checked his note cards. "'Getting their strawberry-flavored edible panties in a twist'."

Janus nearly choked on his toast and made a hasty grab for the Gatorade. "How sweet."

"Yes, the sugar content of Blue Cherry Gatorade is regrettably rather high-- Oh. Yes, I suppose it was rather nice of everyone. Virgil also ceased his self-isolation for the sake of seeing you and talked a little about his feelings, as did Roman."

"Hmph." Janus shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk. It had been his goal to fix everything, but not quite like this. Not at all like this, actually. He had become another piece on the chessboard, and not even a powerful piece like the queen. No, he was more like a bishop, moving laterally to move forward. And now he had no idea how to get what he wanted.

"Interestingly," Logan said. "I believe it was your involuntary display of vulnerability that led the others to treat each other more gently.

"I get it, I'm the hero," Janus said sourly. Hooray, he'd solved Patton's problems by running around like an idiot. How impressive.

"I was… I was trying to make you feel better."

Janus smiled despite himself. "Thank you. Really."

"Something is bothering you," Logan said. "I can't tell what it is. I had thought you might feel embarrassed, but you are handling matters very calmly, despite the fact that you have a tendency to raise your voice and lash out when agitated or threatened. This leads me to believe you are experiencing a different negative emotion, but I cannot identify what it is or why." Logan paused and cleared his throat, his eyes downcast. "This bothers me because you are my friend."

"I couldn't possibly be tired," Janus snapped, realizing a split second later he'd inadvertently proven Logan's point. "Oh."

Janus sighed and flicked over his metaphorical king, albeit in his own way. "I'm not thinking about all the ways a relationship with Patton could go horribly wrong."

"But you have a relationship with Patton--" Logan's eyes widened. "I see. Are you concerned that your feelings are unrequited?"

"Well, that and the opposite."

"I don't follow."

"Virgil told me that if I break Patton's heart, he'll break me . Literally."

"You're afraid of Virgil ?"

Janus ran his fingers over his temple and took in a breath while he waited for Logan to put the pieces together.

"You're afraid you'll hurt Patton."

"I'm not exactly known for my communication skills."

"Have you tried speaking sincerely instead of hiding your intentions with sarcasm?"

"No , the thought has never crossed my mind."

Logan smiled. "It was a joke."

Janus didn't hiss at him.

Logan continued, "I do think you should try to be honest with Patton."

"Easier said than done."

"But it can be done."

"I'll...think about it." Janus waved a hand to dismiss the topic.

[thelucyverse]

Part 1, part 2

Tw: violence

The old Order headquarters being in Time Cottage, Tinworth, is from 'Pride of Time' by AnubisAnkh, one of the best HP fanfics I've read this year (and I probably took so long to notice it because it has a ship I don't usually ship, but then again the same can be said for this fanfic here...); Tinworth itself is a HP canon magical settlement I think

Back in Europe, I get ready to make new experiments while I also wait for all of Tom Riddle's horcruxes to be killed by the Order (I can't bear to call him the Dark Lord in my head, and I am afraid to think of him as Voldemort, afraid of what it would do should I accidentally say it out loud one day).

In September of 1981, my research and soul-magic training is coming to a close, and I believe that I will have more time than I could possibly need with how slow the hunt for further Horcruxes is going, so when Bellatrix asks me to attend the annual Malfoy Yule Ball with her- "And not just to show our faces for half a minute, either, I want to /dance/!"- I readily accept. She smiles brightly- my positive influence seems to work, she thawed immensely from when I arrived back in England to now- and we kiss. It has been a long time that we have kissed in private, just kissed.

It is on this very Yule ball that my careful plans of only moving on to fixing the souls of his followers when Riddle is most vulnerable are wrecked and my hand is forced: my positive influence on Bella really is already working and more so than expected. I only get a moment of warning when her aura shifts- her soul wants to reconnect- and she goes down with a pained cry I stifle with a muffliato.

It had to happen at Malfoy Manor, the one place it shouldn't, always filled by Deatheaters and high society that even frequented by Voldemort... I am lucky to get Bella into a private room- Lucius' study- with minimal attention, only Narcissa noticed and actually helps, afraid for her sister, understanding that something is wrong.

Inside, Bella collapses, I don't even manage to get her into the armchair, she just falls to the floor, clinging to me desperately, afraid for her life. My ears are ringing with fear- this isn't how it was supposed to go, I'm not prepared, I don't know how to help her- Bellatrix whispers something, and for a moment I think I didn't understand her right. "Love you." she coughs out. "Didn't say it before, but-" "You're not going to die." I hiss. "Bella, you're not going to die, and we are going to fucking /talk/ when this is all over." she laughs even when her eyes roll back in her head in pain. "You don't have to say it back if you don't-" I take the chain with the promise ring on my neck and press it to her skin. "That's not what I'm saying at all. You-"

"What are you doing?!" Narcissa must have seen me pressing the metal to her sister's neck and come to the wrong conclusion. She's pointing her wand at me, but I don't even bother to disarm her, instead dangling the chain with the ring in her face. "Nothing but reminding her to live!"

With a shaky breath, Narcissa lowers her wand. I hadn't expected her to trust me so quickly, but maybe she's just that rattled. "Then what?? What happened? Has she been poisoned? Do I need to get Severus? Do I-" "No." I say. "We need to-"

Before I can finish the sentence, Lucius enters, and I stupefy him without waiting for him to talk. I like Narcissa well enough, but I can't stand her husband, and I won't be taking any chances now. Open-mouthed, Narcissa quickly closes the door, pushing Lucius' foot out of the way- I'm glad, thinking that she doesn't much seem to care for him- when she bends down, checking for his pulse, making sure he is alright with a kind of urgency... I squint- and notice a dark connection between them literally binding her to him. Not soul-magic, but she probably can't kill or actively oppose him without being in terrible pain. A kind of vow? A problem for later.

"Narcissa?" I speak up. "/You/ need to do a round of the party now so as not to draw suspicion. Lucius will be unharmed when you return." still unconscious, though, hopefully, I think while I tie the man up for good measure. Narcissa nods shakily, gets her appearance in order and disappears.

Once I am alone with her, I set to work getting Bella's soul reconnected to itself. Like in delirium, I weave healing spells over healing spells while whispering sweet nothings in her ear, hoping she will hear it, hoping she will be herself again when it is all over... Bella screams, and I put up a new muffliato, cursing myself for not thinking about it earlier and hoping that no-one has heard or thought anything of it. Lucius wakes and I stun him again before he can say anything. Then I focus on Bellatrix, lighting up the essence of a soul with a spell Melodenia taught me so I can see what is going on- and I gasp. It's like her soul is stretched thinly between herself and the horcrux, wherever it is. Without the preparative spells, her soul is yanking at it in uncontrolled bursts, getting more of her soul back but also stretching the connecting piece way too thinly... Biting the inside of my cheek, I focus on her soul and dive into the world of soul magic.

There is so much pain. I wonder how Bella hasn't given up on life yet if this is what she is feeling right now. Distantly, I feel tears in my eyes while I let my magic move further along her soul strand, towards the Horcrux, a burning piece of dark magic- I really hope the Dark Lord isn't keeping this anywhere near him, there is no way he won't feel what I am about to do otherwise. And there is no way I will delay this to find out.

With a black-hot shock wave, the Horcrux explodes from the inside out.

Screaming, I fall back, my magic lashing out as I try to get rid of that tainted spell it touched. Now, I’m glad I only did this for her and didn’t try to cut all deatheaters lose at once, even better prepared that would have been a nightmare. I don’t blame Melodenia for not telling me that, though- there’s no way she could have known, she never tried to split her soul in two before, after all.

Drawing in ragged breaths, I sit up, my hand fluttering over Bella’s still form at its own volition. Why isn’t she waking? Her body is unharmed, and her soul is there, I can feel it- oh. Now that I am really looking, I notice that there are still streaks of magic, of curses in someone else’s magical signature surrounding her. I hadn’t noticed it before due to the nature of the Horcrux connection, but now it is obvious: her Dark Mark, connected directly to the Dark Lord. Either Riddle noticed, or there is a failsave, because now that the Horcrux is gone, something is happening- and I can’t stop it. I /could/, but with how weak I am now, the curse would just burn through me should I lift it. While I truly love Bellatrix, I am not ready to die in her stead. I have to think quickly-

In that moment, Narcissa returns, and I am reminded of the connection she has to that evil husband of hers, who is still in the room... “Please tell me you do not actually care for Lucius Malfoy.” Narcissa opens her mouth to speak, but chokes on her own words. I nod. As I thought. With quick, slashing spells I end the Vow or whatever it was that kept her bound to him. She collapses as if her strings are cut, but I don’t take the time to make sure she is alright- instead turning to Lucius: “Imperio.”

Through Lucius’ eyes, the magic looks different, as if he can’t quite tell what is good and what is bad. Maybe good and bad are just defined entirely differently to him. With my theoretical knowledge, I still find the curse again- and when I force Lucius to ignore the pain, the burning, I keep looking and find more than just that. An entire network of curses, leading from Deatheater to Deatheater to Voldemort. Not all of them are connected, at least not equally so, there seems to be a second network only slightly touching the first, but still- I can take down many Death Eaters in one go with this. I just have to make sure I don’t kill Bellatrix in the process. 

The connection of the Marks is a literal maze. Getting Bella free is still my priority, and as soon as I identify hers, I start to first push back the magic that is seeping into her, and, when I hear her gasp as she comes awake, one by one destroy the connections she has to the others. 

Bellatrix is free. I only take a moment to blink from my Imperius-Lucius-view to make sure she is alright- Narcissa is with her, of course, the other woman had never taken the Mark so she should be fine now- before diving back into the Maze of Dark Marks, getting right in the middle of it and destroying the curse from the inside out. Lucius screams despite the Imperius curse when the Dark Lord’s magic is burning his hands before his own Dark Mark explodes, taking his entire arm with him- he doesn’t have to live that way for long as the magic seeping through the maze tears him apart. Throwing up a shield, I banish his body and all magic it carries to go Merlin-knows-where.

The Dark Marks are gone. the Horcruxes remain. Can I get them the same way I got the Marks? 

Leaning down briefly to kiss Bella’s forehead and stroke her cheek, I stumble to the door, opening it a fraction to look out. The party is in disarray, many have felt the change in the Mark. I see Nott and Avery stumbling against each other a few metres away- easy targets, them. I imperio Avery first, and then I have /him/ imperio Nott- now Nott is the only one who can still use his magic for anything but holding up the imperius curse. Didn’t I already mention that this curse is stupid? But in this case, it would help me. letting Avery and Nott walk into the middle of the room, I then let Nott walk further, waiting for- ah! Sabina, a woman I am quite certain is an illegitimate half-blood instead of the pure blood she claims, and definitely affected by a Horcrux. Nott- or rather his body, lead by Avery’s curse and my command- walks into her, touches her arm as if to steady her- and then his magic is reaching into her soul. Feeling along the link towards the Horcruxes. Yes, there are more soul-pieces closeby, I can reach them- I don’t know whether this means that the Horcruxes are physically close together or just that they have been forged by the same hand, souls work in funny ways sometimes, after all. I don’t much care either way, just commanding Avery to command Nott to destroy them all- and then break the connection of the imperius while Avery passes on the command. 

If the way Sabina stumbles while Nott screams and burns and Avery falls to his knees is any indication, it must have worked.

I hurry back into the study, to Narcissa and Bellatrix. "Are you alright??" I ask, kneeling down next to Bella "Yes." she coughs out, but I can see the fear and confusion in her eyes. "Are you?" she adds. I just nod, pressing my forehead to hers, just breathing for a while. "What in the stars names /was/ that?" Narcissa's shout breaks our moment of peace. Huh. I didn't realise she could screech like that. And I don't think she knows /any/ real curse words. With a sigh, I get up, pulling Bellatrix to her feet, too.

"Your soul fixed itself" I tell Bella. "It- I had noticed a while ago that something was wrong with it, and suspected the Dark Lord might be behind it. I was still doing research, I nearly had it- and then today, it just started to fix itself, well, I helped it along a bit when I noticed that it had started. What I saw confirmed that it was Riddle by the way- the Dark Lord, I mean. I also broke the hold he had over you through the Dark Mark, oh, and Lucius' hold on Narcissa. Well, pretty sure he's dead now anyway." I sum up what had happened. Both stare at me, completely baffled. Feeling uneasy, I shift from one leg to the other. "So. Are you two ready to break with Voldemort and all his beliefs?"

Bellatrix is startled into a laugh. "I think we already did that quite thoroughly..." she snorts out.

Narcissa looks at her as if she has gone insane- then pales. "Draco! I have to- if someone notices-" Oh. I had completely forgotten about the kid. Not my proudest moment. "Uh, you hadn't left him with someone who's Marked, have you?" Now, both look at me like I'm insane. "You think anyone that high up would bother to play nursemaid??" Bellatrix asks. "Not even I would bother- no offense, sister." "None taken." Narcissa says curtly. "Now, I am going to get my son, and then- and then-" "I know where we can go" I say, feeling slightly sorry to force her out of her own home, but we really better move now- although really I should feel more sorry for the Order for having to put up with the three of us now. "If you are ready to leave not just the Dark Lord but blood supremacy in general behind, too, that is." Bella just shrugs. "'s long as you're there..." we smile at each other, and then I have to look away as I remember that I can't really promise that, that I have no idea how long I still have in this world. Shaking myself from these depressing thoughts, I swipe Tom Riddle's diary from Lucius' cabinet before leaving the room.

Narcissa goes to collect Draco from his nurse in the private chambers, and Bella and I disillusion each other, then lean against the corridor wall, hexing whoever comes past and doesn't look too friendly. Deatheaters, general scumbags, oh, Fenrir Greybag, that one I stun and disillusion, too. Might be a good present for the order, or something, showing that I don't want them to just pardon all former bad guys. It doesn't get to that, however, when one of the Carrows- Amycus? I honestly can't tell under the robes and the blood- realises where our jinxes are coming from and tries to fight back, sending a killing curse- well, moving Greyback in the way of that was self defense, really. And it's not like anyone's going to spill any tears over it. Carrow moves in for another blow- and is taken down from behind.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that."

A young man stands behind him, wand dangling from his hand, dark hair in disarray and a bloody nose. For a moment, he looks exactly like Sirius Black, but then I recall: this is Regulus! I didn't even know that he was still alive... His name had been on a lost of people I had planned to save, back in the very beginning when I arrived in this world. But then I didn't know when exactly it would happen to save him myself, and I had no information to prove his innocence or reform to the Order... Of course, the Order had found the locket earlier than him because of me. Did he go there, see it was gone and disappear again instead of drinking the poison? Or did he never try to leave the Deatheaters at all? The way he had just taken down one of Voldemorts' henchmen just because, in the current chaos, he had been able to, made me believe otherwise.

Disillusioning myself (and throwing up a shield at the same time, I'm not stupid), I stepped forward. "Regulus Black, is it not?" "Who wants to- oh, you're Bella's girl, aren't you?" my eye twitched at being called anyone's girl, but I ignored it for now. "Are you done being a pawn for the Dark Lord?" He blinked. Then actually laughed. "You know- yes. Why, are you leaving your wife behind? Wait, are you the reason for all this chaos?" "We are." Bella stepped forward too, and in the same moment, Narcissa came hurrying up behind us, baby Draco in her arms. Regulus stared at us for a moment, then started to laugh again. I see how he's related to Sirius. "You know- yes, whatever this is, I'm in."

I look at Narcissa. "Have you ever been to Tinworth?" If I apparate the four of us all the way there, I wouldn't have the power left to defend Bellatrix should it come to a conflict. Thankfully, everyone knows the village, Narcissa disapparating with Draco first, then Regulus, than me with Bellatrix although she insists that she is fine. We apparate to the east of the town, regroup and I apparate us to the closed off partage in front of the cottage that I had insisted on- it is not under the fidelius, so one can take others there, but it's protected by enough spells that new members can be read into the Secret without the possibility of anyone seeing and attacking. My past paranoia and overthinking comes in handy now. Letting the others stand behind me after telling them to watch each others backs and call for me should anyone show up, I move to open the door, knowing that I will disappear from their view as soon as I'm in the doorstep. I don't want to leave Bella alone, but this is the easiest way to prove that I am myself and not someone under polyjuice who doesn't know the Secret.

"Hello?" I call out. "Anybody home?"

Part 4

[scifinal]

DW s12e10: It's Quite Unfortunate That This Child Keeps On Regenerating

It's only fitting that the first post on a blog called "SciFinal" should be about a season finale.

Not that fitting is the fact that in said post I'm going to begin where it all started for me.

Part One: How I Even Got into This Mess of a Show in the First Place

While I call myself a huge Doctor Who fan, even a – *gasp* – Whovian, I must admit I am not as familiar with the franchise as I would like to be; I've seen the new show, I've seen Torchwood (though, admittedly, I had to force myself to finish the fourth season – but that's a story for another day), I've listened to a handful of audio dramas (including Kaldor City, which I consider to be canon for both DW and Blake's 7) – mostly Torchwood audio dramas, but who cares, – I've read a couple of comics, I've got a novel or two somewhere on my bookshelf, I've seen the first couple of seasons of the classic show, but that's about it. I can't say I grew up with it – it wasn't on TV when I was a kid, there isn't an official Ukrainian dub, et cetera, et cetera. I first heard about it when I was about thirteen, when my classmate did a project about something they liked – and was pretty dismissive of my peers' hobbies at the time, believing myself to be somewhat above them, so I didn't pay much attention.

Then somebody finally pressured me into watching it (I believe I was fifteen or something back then) and I loved it. The first two episodes of the first season, I mean. I watched those, texted my friend something like "consider me a Whovian now!" and abandoned the show completely only to return to it maybe several years later.

I loved it. This time, for real.

Doctor Who has been with me ever since that time, it has a big soft spot reserved for each and every Doctor ever in my heart, and for each and every companion. I know full well it's cheesy, and it's stupid, and it's technobabble-y, and it's glorious in all of its cheesy technobabble-y stupidity.

And I hate this finale.

Part Two: Doctor, Why

I hate this finale – because I hate Chris Chibnall. Mind you, not the gentleman himself (I don't even know what he looks like, and I can't be bothered to Google), I hate what he did to Doctor Who.

Now, when it was revealed that the would replace Steven Moffat I felt... nothing. What did you expect? I had no idea who the man was. I know now he's made Broadchurch, and I know he wrote a bunch of stuff for Torchwood back in the day, including Cyberwoman. I had to drop Broadchurch because of how well-handled the depressing atmosphere was, and I love the flawed, dumb, sexy-cyber-bikinied, almost-fifteen-minutes-of-Ianto's-whining-including (I know because some time ago I literally cut almost every single moment of Gareth David-Lloyd whimpering, moaning, groaning, screaming, and mugging at the camera out of the episode and made those bits and pieces into a beautiful clip show called "I HATE THIS" to explain exactly why his face was and still is so punchable) mindless fun that is Cyberwoman (this is also one of the two episodes in which they actually do something fun with the pterodactyl living inside Torchwood's underground base). The latter also led to the creation of one amazing in how it develops Ianto's character audio drama entitled "Broken". I love Broken. I am now forcing you to look at its cover because of how much I love it.

Here we go. Now, back to the point of me rambling pointlessly

In his video "Sherlock Is Garbage, and Here's Why", a well-known YouTuber hbomberguy pointed out how Steven Moffat's problem is that he is more than capable of writing a good one-off episodes, but ultimately fails at managing multiple complex, overarching stories, as visible when you look at the difference between Moffat's individual episodes and his run on the show.

Now, I believe that Chris Chibnall suffers from the same affliction: he's a good screenwriter but a terrible, terrible showrunner. Sure, he's made Broadchurch, but Broadchurch, in its essence, was a complete singular story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. There were no bigger, incomplete arcs expanding at the expense of other episodes, and the show did exactly what it was originally designed to do: it told an uninterrupted story.

Here comes Chris Chibnall's run on Doctor Who.

Now, while Steven Moffat was ultimately not very good at managing overarching stories, he tried to do so nonetheless, and the fans seemed to like his attempts. And while I can't be sure as to whether it was Chris' original vision for the show or he and his co-writers were merely trying to emulate Moffat, he attempted the same. A friend of mine has even pointed out how, to her, it was painfully obvious how the writers of the finale were desperately trying to copy Moffat's style (to give you some context, she grasped it from a 30-second clip of the CyberMasters' reveal, and that clip basically consisted of me filming my laptop's screen and laughing at their design, making the video wobbly and the audio distorted). At the time of writing this post this friend hasn't seen a single episode of Chibnall's era and, as far as I know, has no wish to do so – mainly because of two reasons that both have something to do with the finale:

Somebody's already spoiled it for her, so who cares;

I ranted to her about how shit this finale is and now she hates everything about Chibnall era.

I am very sorry for the latter, since I genuinely believe there are some nice episodes in these seasons, and I especially like the "historical" ones, they really are quite a lot of fun, I like Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison fighting badly CG-ed alien scorpions, I love Lord Byron and Mary Shelley running around a haunted house trying to escape from a Cyberman (even though it's all too similar to the Agatha Christie episode from Russel T Davies' run), I adore that episode about Rosa P–– oh, wait, no, that one was crap and ripped off Blake's 7... Anyway, I love Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, I am a big fan of Graham, I like Ryan just fine, and I can put up with Yaz, even though it's been two seasons and I've still got no idea what's her personality supposed to be, and I absolutely love the new Master (he reminds me of a cute little pug with a big Tommy gun). There is plenty of good stuff in these two seasons, they are lots of fun to watch, but this finale... Oh god, this finale.

Part Three: We Had All of Time and Space at Our Fingertips and We Ended Up with This

We are getting to the point of this whole thing. I would love to begin with the obvious, the twist, but there's so much wrong with this who-cares-how-many-parter than this one big thing.

It is inept. It is impotent. It is incompetent. It is bad at almost everything except its okay camera work, somewhat good (for a British TV show, I mean) effects, and its really solid performances.

Its editing is tone-deaf to the extreme. There is a moment in the final episode where Ko Sharmas asks who will be the first to cross the Boundary and step into the unknown, and immediately it cuts to Yaz walking towards it, all fast and silent. I would love to show you a clip of it, but I don't have one and I can't force myself to download the episode and sit through this shitshow again just to present you with a ten-second clip. Nonetheless, that part is not edited like a dramatic moment. You edit comedies this way. Bad comedies. Bad editors edit bad comedies this way.

Its plot is incoherent. There are several plot threads in this finale, and they're managed in a way that doesn't make the viewer care about all of them at the same time, rather the viewer goes "oh, I've completely forgotten this was happening" and then, before they can even begin to care, the show cuts to something else. It's all over the place and oh so annoying.

The plot armour is painfully obvious despite every attempt to disguise it. There wasn't a single, solitary second when I believed the Doctor was really going to sacrifice herself and, lo and behold, here comes the old guy ex machina to do it for her. The only questions I was asking at that moment were "How are the writers going to prevent the Doctor's death now that they've seemingly created themselves a way to go on forever?" and "How can Whittaker care so much about her performance in this scene she's literally almost crying?". I wholeheartedly related to the Master asking "So why are we still here?" and shout–– hiss–– mumbl–– whatever-ing "Come on, come on, come on!" – at that point I've suffered through at least forty-five minutes of utter nonsense, people going preachy, religious Cybermen with Dalek motivations, that absolutely ludicrous scene in the previous episode when the show was trying its worst to make me perceive autonomous flying Cyber-heads with laser eyes as a serious threat, a shit twist and... Oh.

I've got to finally touch on the shit twist, haven't I?

It doesn't make sense. No, I mean it. I guess it makes sense from the show's writers' standpoint to retcon everything in a way that would allow them to go on forever without having to come up with a way to circumvent limited regenerations, yes. And I won't be touching upon all the lore people say this twist has ruined. No. It doesn't make sense as it is.

The twist is revealed to us by a madman that claims to have hacked into a database, claims to possess control over the Doctor's mind, and gives the Doctor and the audience no actual solid proof that the Timeless Child is, indeed, the Doctor. We have Ruth, sure, and she's nice enough (damn, I want that vest), and she's a Timelord that happens to own a TARDIS that looks like a blue police telephone box, and she calls herself the Doctor. Here's Ruth:

I really like Ruth. She also makes no sense from the show's timeline standpoint, since the Doctor's Type 40 TARDIS only got stuck looking like a police box in 1963, so there's no reason for the Doctor to not remember being her.

We also know that the Judoon have identified Ruth as "the Fugitive"... except in one of their previous appearances in the show they weren't able to identify their targets exactly and thus were seeking out non-humans. There is a possibility that they were only looking for a Time Lord on Earth.

You know what? It's possible that Ruth is actually the Master messing with the Doctor. I have just as much proof of this as I have of the fact that the Doctor is some kind of an endlessly regenerating superbeing.

But this is not the most maddening thing here. I loathe it, but I don't loathe the twist itself: I loathe its lifelessness, I loathe how empty, how unemotional, almost robotic it feels. When somebody'd spoiled the finale for me, I got angry, and I started asking questions, and when later I saw the actual thing...

This gif. I can't even explain how accurate it is. I stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, episode paused, holding a cup of cold tea and desperately looking around as if in my surroundings I could somehow find that emotional reaction that this show failed to evoke. I was ready to burst into tears of how empty it felt, and how empty I felt, and how the same show that has Christopher Eccleston go from literally foaming at the mouth with pure hatred to shocked silence in a matter of second because of one sentence that you, a viewer, can't help but be astonished by failed to make me feel the tiniest speck of literally any emotion. And slowly, I felt that vast void in my chest fill with sheer, pure, flaming hatred for the person who made me feel nothing, for the story that left me not bored – but empty.

And the next moment, in its own unique way of being absolutely tone-deaf, the show introduces the CyberMasters, looking ridiculous, being asinine in concept, making me burst into laughter with their dumb design. Wow.

So.

Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who is no longer a show. Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who isn't even, as somebody on Stardust said, a fan fiction. It's a rollercoaster. A lackluster rollercoaster that lifts you from the vast caverns of frozen hell, devoid of any life whatsoever, soulless and abandoned, to the heavenly torture of being so bad, so utterly awful and ridiculous, that you can't help but laugh as you watch something you used to love be distorted and deformed to the point where you can't recognise it anymore nor really care. This is what Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who has become. And I'm going to continue my ride on that grotesque rollercoaster. I'm going to pirate that ride and get on it again. Because I'm a masochist. Because I want to feel something, even if it's hatred towards those that make me feel nothing.

Because some time ago my fifteen-year-old self watched the first season and learned a lesson that I hold dear after all these years – that I can't abandon hope, and that someday, somehow, things are going to get better. That the future is being written right now. That the future can change.

[aboutlouishofmann]

A Life Devoted To Music

[Original interview here which is already in English. I'm just testing. All images curtesy of cinema.de]

FRIDAY, 7/5/2019

A LIFE DEVOTED TO MUSIC

In PRÉLUDE Louis Hofmann plays a talented pianist.

Rising star Louis Hofmann has often been seen at FILMFEST MÜNCHEN — for example, in the tender coming-of-age drama CENTER OF MY WORLD. By now, Hofmann is well-known all over Germany thanks to the captivating mystery series DARK. This makes us all the more delighted that this up-and-coming actor is returning to Munich this year with not one, but two exciting films. In PRÉLUDE, he plays a talented musician who experiences the downside of being an artist; and he also has a role in THE WHITE CROW, about Soviet ballet dancer Rudolf Nureyev. We met the amiable actor at the world premiere of PRÉLUDE and asked him about his own experiences as an artist and how life in the spotlight affects a person.

In PRÉLUDE, you play an aspiring pianist named David, a freshman at a conservatory who's under pressure from the beginning. What was it about this story that caught your interest?

In 2015, I was invited to a casting for PRÉLUDE. I think I'd read only a small blurb about it, but it won me over right away and I knew I absolutely had to play this part. I don't know whether I'd already seen WHIPLASH. I grew up around lots of music and have an affinity to it — and probably a fascination with sadness as well. I thought if the script fulfills the promise of that little blurb, I've got to be a part of things. Then I went to the first casting with director Sabrina Sarabi and we simply got along very well and I noticed that she does very fine work.

When did you finally shoot the film?

Two years ago. It was hard to get all the money that was necessary. It is just a small film, after all. I'm still glad that we made it even though we didn't have much money. Being so close on set was also great. On the first day of shooting, there were maybe 15 of us on the set. It took some getting used to, because I'd just come from DARK, where we'd had 100 to 150 people. That was our own little microcosm, and working with such a small team was something I enjoyed to the fullest.

Is that something you generally prefer: a smaller scale?

No. I just prefer good material.

What does good material consist of?

That's the question. There are only the standard responses: well-developed characters, a nice development of the role, a story that's exciting, not one that's narrated. David is somebody I can identify with to a good extent. He's sensitive. He has this great ambition that I carry within myself. When he does something, he jumps in wholeheartedly. That's also the approach I take to my own work. That's why I understood him right away.

You mentioned that music has always been very important to you. Do you play an instrument?

I played violin for a year, because my brother played violin. I stopped pretty soon after that. Then, at age eight or nine, I began to play the drums. I did that for eight years.

Do you still play?

I stopped when I moved from Cologne to Berlin. I didn't have a drum set there, nor did I have the infrastructure: a place to rehearse and so on. I didn't take it up again until this year. I rediscovered how awesome it is and how much I'd missed it — how I'd totally been caught up in the piano as well. I used to be able to play chords or three-finger accompaniment. Classical pieces, though, were pretty foreign to me. I somehow put in a lot of effort with a teacher, without being able to read music. We did it with videos. I think it helped me a little to be able to play the drums. But to learn a new instrument and suddenly understand how it works and to be familiar with the keyboard and to get into the groove when playing: that really did a lot for me. In addition, it was just extremely good preparation for the part. It made the character accessible to me, which is something I hadn't really expected.

How long did you practice?

After I got the role, we did two years of workshops. In the end, we had two-hour lessons, five days a week for three months, and then two to four more hours a day of practice.

That's a lot.

You're right. But it's great. At first it's so difficult. The first two weeks were so rough: you're really just searching for the notes; your fingers don't understand it all just yet. You feel like a dyslexic on the piano, just so amateurish. And suddenly after two or three weeks, your fingers start doing what they should. You follow the instrument, and it's simply awesome.

Are you still doing it?

Unfortunately not. No, because I can't read music and because I'd noticed that I get bored easily because I only ever play the same pieces. My roommates and I have a piano, and I play it sometimes, but not like before.

What kind of music do you listen to?

Mainly indie rock, indie pop, alternative. Sometimes soul classics, chansons, or jazz hip-hop.

Can you name two or three artists?

Two or three artists I can name... Somehow that's always pretty hard to do. Right now I'm really looking forward to the new Dope Lemon album that's coming out soon. As for indie pop, Bon Iver is one of my heroes. Parcels is great. I could go on forever. Music is a really important part of my life. I just immerse myself in it and discover new artists. It's a lot of fun.

There's this gotcha question that I once picked up from a job interview: If you were a song, what song would you be? That is, a song that describes you very well.

I have no idea. I think the songs we listen to speak to only part of ourselves. The first song I thought of is "8 (Circle)" by Bon Iver. But that's just my melancholy side. It wouldn't describe me completely, because I also have a non-melancholy side, a very happy side, that I wouldn't be doing justice to.

Now that you've had a brief look at the life of a musician, even indirectly, what would you say is similar to or different from the life of an actor?

The pressure is what they have in common. The expectations one has of oneself. The competition. Although I have to say we're a generation, I think, who fight more alongside each other than against each other. For a pianist, it's a more individual fight than for an actor, because as an actor you normally don't perform alone.

In the film, David has to put his personal life on the back burner in order to get somewhere as a musician. Since you said that you enjoy immersing yourself, to what extent do you find yourself having to put your personal life on the back burner?

Since the work always comes in phases, you only have to do that in phases. And then I do that. In recent years, I've also learned that you can't completely separate the two — that the project phases should intersect more with the phases of free time. I've always felt that I've completely forgone personal life while working, up until the end of shooting. At some point, I no longer thought that was a good thing. In this line of work, you have to watch out, otherwise you'll start thinking of the year only in terms of blocks of time. I've resolved to be aware of this for more than a whole year again. Theater actors can probably do that a lot better, because they have regular work. They're able to balance their personal lives and their work more easily. That's a small obstacle that a film actor has to overcome at some point.

Let's assume you have free time. What do you do to unwind after work?

I had a hard time of that in Berlin. But this year, I went back to some old hobbies, like the drums. Also skateboarding, climbing, bouldering, and so on, to find balance. It's just about doing something that no one judges and where there's no output. Where you're not forced to deliver output. Because all you do when playing is give, give, give. You learn something, too, of course, and it gives you something back. But it's very relaxing to just do something that no one is appraising.

And where you're not being watched.

That, too, yes.

How often does it happen nowadays that you're recognized out on the street?

Sometimes. Occasionally. There are days when nothing happens, and other days when it happens several times. It also depends on whether I'm in a bar or another place where people gather.

Imagine that for some reason you had to do something other than act.

What would I do?

Exactly.

Hm. That's difficult.

Did you always want to be an actor, or were there alternatives?

A soccer player, of course. I definitely wanted to be a soccer player. When I finished high school, I was also very interested in psychology — and art. But I don't believe that I'd study art or psychology, even though I was still saying that two or three years ago. I also have a lot of fun working behind the camera, and I've been a set manager for short films. I enjoy organizing a set in the extreme, because I also have experience in how these things work. I'd probably still prefer to stay in the world of film and then maybe try to develop material or help to see it realized.

So you could also imagine directing and scriptwriting?

Probably not scriptwriting. I'm more the kind of person who reads the script and says, "Oh, that's what happens. I think it'd be great if this and that also happened." I don't think I could write a story myself. I have a lot of respect for those who can.

What else are you up to next?

On Monday, we started filming the third season of DARK, so I'll just do that for now. That'll probably take another six months. After that, we'll be done. The series was planned as a trilogy from the beginning, so the story will conclude with the third season.

That's all from me. In closing, do you have any more comments you'd like to make about your film?

I think Sabrina is very talented, and I'm very proud of this film and hope that people will see it.