#Take Back The Night

[vale-n-tina-and-the-internet]

OK SO HERE IT GOES

Ok so story time: This was commissioned by the lovely (not to mention patient and supportive) @greypistacchio for her monumental fic Pieces of Paper we Hold, and it’s going to be the cover for the printed version she’s going to sell to raise money for SA survivors. It’s a great initiative and it comes with loads of merch from super talented artists so go.check.it.out. cuz it’s all kinds of awesome! (For real, the art for the merch is superb 😍)

Also it was my first commission ever 🤯 Nearly crapped my pants with nerves, but Gee was crazy enough to entrust it to me and I couldn’t be more grateful cause I’m kinda proud of the result and to be part of a project like this.

Some progress shots under the cut just for fun

[ourownsidefund]

[Image Description: White text on a starry blue and purple background. On the upper left are a pair of bright stars representing Alpha Centauri. The header reads: "On Our Own Side." The text reads: "Welcome to our international fandom fundraiser. Our mission is to channel this fandom's passion for Good Omens into a benefit for the Take Back The Night Foundation to fund real-world support for sexual abuse survivors." A note at the bottom reads: "***Please note that this project is not affiliated with or endorsed by Amazon, the BBC, or the Take Back The Night Foundation. It is an entirely volunteer fan-run project." End image description.]

Welcome, Good Omens fandom, to the Tumblr page for the #OnOurOwnSide fundraiser! 

We are still getting our ‘celestial harmonies’ in order, so please follow us and share for updated news, events, and ways to get involved. Our GoFundMe page will open soon!

[axolotluv]

Anyone else absolutely love this story?

[alwaystuesday]

Psssssssst! Good Omens fandom! Wanna do something objectively positive to help victims of sexual abuse? @ourownsidefund is running an auction of cool Good Omens stuff! All proceeds to the Take Back the Night Foundation!

Check it out here: https://www.32auctions.com/organizations/124730/auctions/173384?r=1&t=all

Goodies up for grabs includes my original artwork “Avenging Angel (in tartan)”

[lvndrlondonfog]

Apologies, I often try to avoid promotion on my personal account, though I know a lot of my mutuals expressed interest when this fundraiser was initially proposed and I want to try and reach that audience again and the larger Good Omens community:

On Our Own Side Fundraiser is still looking for organizers and moderators for our upcoming events. Having additional help on our team in the coming weeks is CRUCIAL to being able to run our upcoming events, and without it, we may have to postpone, edit, or even cancel our events.

While this wasn’t anticipated, we are calling to the the wider Good Omens community for crucial help in supporting this fundraiser; you all have already been so incredibly kind so far. With just our watchalong running, we have raised ONE THOUSAND USD for Take Back the Night! That’s wild!

I know it’s a wild and confusing and upsetting time in the fandom right now, and this is a chance to do some good. Get involved with a wonderful, positive, uplifting community and various fun events such as our watchalong (with optional raffle bingo,) auction, charity comms, and zine!

So please, if you have the time, look over the @ourownsidefund account and if you don’t know, see what we’re about; if you do know and are still interested, look at the application link below. If you’re unable to help in that regard, we’re still looking for writers and artist for our still currently OPEN application for ‘Bright Stars: a Good Omens Charity Zine’ and in the future for our public charity comms event. We also have our audition upcoming later in November that we are very excited to begin to publically announce soon.

If you have any further questions, feel free to reach out to me or the official @ourownsidefund account!

[haggishlyhagging]

A Take Back the Night March goes right to our emotional core. We women are especially supposed to be afraid of the night. The night promises harm to women. For a woman to walk on the street at night is not only to risk abuse, but also—according to the values of male domination—to ask for it. The woman who transgresses the boundaries of night is an outlaw who breaks an elementary rule of civilized behavior: a decent woman does not go out—certainly not alone, certainly not only with other women—at night. A woman out in the night, not on a leash, is thought to be a slut or an uppity bitch who does not know her place. The policemen of the night—rapists and other prowling men—have the right to enforce the laws of the night: to stalk the female and to punish her. We have all been chased, and many of us have been caught. A woman who knows the rules of civilized society knows that she must hide from the night. But even when the woman, like a good girl, locks herself up and in, night threatens to intrude. Outside are the predators who will crawl in the windows, climb down drainpipes, pick the locks, descend from skylights, to bring the night with them. These predators are romanticized in, for instance, vampire movies. The predators become mist and curl through barely visible cracks. They bring with them sex and death. Their victims recoil, resist sex, resist death, until, overcome by the thrill of it all, they spread their legs and bare their necks and fall in love. Once the victim has fully submitted, the night holds no more terror, because the victim is dead. She is very lovely, very feminine, and very dead. This is the essence of so-called romance, which is rape embellished with meaningful looks.

-Andrea Dworkin, Letters From a War Zone

[laulo821]

i refuse to believe he had such a lame death in take back the night (or that he died at all) so i decided he was still alive and in the nether - actually, he's the one who showed the pigmen how the wither works in find the pieces. cause you really think PIGMEN (or, well, piglins now i guess) could figure that out on their own? not me

[proxentauri]

a draw this again of one of my oldest pieces ever!! i did the original right before starting high school and the new one right after graduating uni, so it definitely feels like i've come full circle...although i would never colour like the original nowadays i'm still quite fond of it and i think it has its own charm :)

watch the timelapse w/commentary below the cut!!

[all-the-noms]

It seems I have forgotten to post my art here..

This one was for the Fallen Kingdom Fanzine for CaptainSparklez' birthday. It's the trainung scene from Take Back The Night :3

Also, this one was from the end card where we had our thank you messages :3

[rcreveal]

The Trouble with a Keen Manager, Ch 16

It's the 1990's and Usher, a demonic manager has taken away Crowley's demon powers as part of an "Accountability" drive. Despite everything, Crowley prevailed...he wasn't alone after all. But Usher has sent a 'test' on the night of the Whickber Street 'Take Back the Night' march. What will Crowley do? What can he do without any access to demon powers?

Chapter 16

Trade had been brisk at the Dirty Donkey when Aziraphale stepped into the pub again on Friday night.  Young women were testing the waters since word had obviously gotten around that this was a pub that watched for dirty players.  Organization was happening around tables that usually held men and women just wanting relief from the work-a-day grind or a little company.  At one, women were offering sign ups for self-defense classes.  At another, law students were talking about what legislature was needed to help women prosecute physical and sexual offenders, even if it were their husbands.  Signs and posters leaned against the walls and tables, poked up from where they were tucked into the backs of chairs.  Eyes were bright with excitement, nervousness, righteous anger, and some glances flashed with quickly suppressed fear, while others gazed up at him steady and firm.

Aziraphale took in the forest of placards ready to be picked up for the march tonight.

 “Take Back the Night” “No Means No” “Stop the Violence” “Keep your rosaries off my ovaries” “Safe Homes, Happy Families, No Violence!”

“If you don’t like abortions, have a vasectomy” “No more Rape” “Raise Your Voice, Stop Abuse” “The Way I Dress is Not a Yes”

When the trembling force of enough belief collected like this, great good could come of it.  Aziraphale had seen it before, he glanced over at the Agatha Christie readers who had claimed their own table, chatting animatedly as they waited for the march to queue up.  For an angel, it was easy to see them as the younger women they had been when they had marched before.  Their eyes lit as youngsters shyly asked about their vintage t shirts, sashes, and ribbons.

Smiling to himself at the fizz and buzz of activity, Aziraphale threaded his way towards the bar where Crowley was doing an admirable job of keeping everyone in…oh, liquor.

Aziraphale leaned into the bar, remarking to Crowley, “My! It’s very exciting, isn’t it!?”

Wiping the bartop, Crowley muttered, “If you order something we can talk longer.”

“What are the young ladies drinking?” asked Aziraphale curiously, noting that a whole table had the same beverages.

“Specialty of the house, VVL, Virgin Vodka Lemonade,” Crowley said with a wicked grin.

“I’m really not fond of vodka drinks, Crow.., Anthony,” the angel replied, looking concerned as Crowley’s hands started to assemble all sorts of things in a shaker.

“ Virgin just means there’s no alcohol in it, angel,” he explained.

“Oh!” smiling brightly, the angel said, “That’s alright then.”

Dropping a curl of lemon rind in the glass and placing it on the bar, Crowley leaned back to watch the angel take a sip.

“Mmm, refreshing!  And surprisingly complex!”  Aziraphale lifted his glass to Madame and the young organizers of the march.

Crowley noted that some men didn’t look as relaxed as the angel, sitting subdued deep in corner booths of their regular boozer, or uncomfortably stranded in ones or twos at tables.  They’d been caught unaware in a change of the tides.  A few looked around round-eyed as young women made bawdy jokes and laughed loudly at them.  Shoe’s on the other foot, thought Crowley, and some blokes would not care for that.  Of course he noticed the ones throwing on their coats and leaving the bar with dark looks at the ladies and darker comments to their mates.  But other men, mostly crusty old fellows, sensing a new and receptive audience were sharing their most ribald jokes.  Crowley knew the angel noticed that , since Aziraphale's ears were getting red.

To stop Aziraphale from interrupting the punch line of a really raunchy joke being told by a young woman to a rapt audience over in the corner, Crowley caught the angel's attention with, “Are you marching tonight, angel?” Crowley leaned on his elbows at the bar to peer out the windows as groups of women went by.  There was a festival feel in the air, it made him edgy.

“Well, this corporation is rather more masculine, so I thought I’d cheer them on from the sidelines,” replied the angel, beaming at the crowd.

“Yeah, well, keep an eye out for trouble,” Crowley said, looking uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” asked Aziraphale, noting the tension in Crowley’s face.

“I don’t know.  There’s just something coming… Something…ugly,” Crowley wiped down the bar before walking down to take another drinks order from a new group of young women.

‘Hey, Anthony!  I’ll take a VVL,” called Viv, one of the University students, leaning against the bar.  Looking from Anthony to Mr Fell speculatively, she commented, “Didn’t know Mr Fell spoke Scots Gaelic.  Were you talking about your book?”

Mixing the Virgin Vodka Lemonade, Crowley replied, “Yeah, something like that.” He hadn’t realized that they’d been speaking Scottish.  All his demonic powers were blocked, but strangely some things remained.

Crowley’s musings on the powers that were weirdly not blocked was interrupted by sudden scraping as seats were pushed back all over the pub in time to some unspoken signal.  As one group of women after another finished their drinks, gathered their signs and headed out to gather at the starting point of their ‘Take Back the Night’ march, Aziraphale cheerily wished them a good march.  Clusters of women could be seen walking down both sides of Whickber street now in almost continuous streams.  The angel moved to a seat with a better view, estimating that within about fifteen minutes, things would start to get going.

Crowley, meanwhile, had been busy bussing tables around the pub while getting antsier and antsier.  Something bad was definitely coming.  Running the dishwasher in the kitchen, he started to feel a beat, even over the mechanical rhythm of the machine.  Dave and Aziraphale looked up, surprised, as Crowley raced through the pub in a flash of red and tartan, out the front door, skidding to a stop by dint of grabbing the doorframe.

Looking down the street one way Crowley saw all the ‘Take Back the Night’ marchers.  But the source of the sound he had heard, coming from the other direction, was a group of swaggering, youngish men, singing and chanting.  Some swayed, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders.  Others sang with their bare arms raised.  Initially the tunes sounded like familiar football chants.  The words, well, the words were something else entirely.

Dave dropped his rag on the bar and came up to the pub door beside Anthony, peering around the young man tense as a hawser hanging out the doorway.  The Dirty Donkey’s owner had learned that the young barkeep had a remarkable instinct for trouble.

Looking up and down the street, then finally catching the words of the chant, Dave grunted, “Bloody hell,” quietly before turning from the door and jogging over to the phone.  

Dialing the Met by memory he said, “Hello, I’ve got a disturbance to report,” urgently into the receiver.

The remaining regulars in the pub got up to see what all the excitement was about, too hard of hearing to catch the meaning of the words adulterating the familiar chants, but curious what could have possibly gotten Dave riled up.

Aziraphale joined Crowley in the doorway, looking in concern at the unfolding drama.  No one saw the result of a little gesture that the angel made.  

Crowley, head swiveling from group to group, missed the angel’s miracle entirely as he struggled in the conundrum Usher, it had to be Usher, had just dropped him into.  Here he'd been carefully cultivating a little self-sufficient, reliable, bit of wickedness: spreading subversive ideas about gender equity and that people ought to be able to marry whomever they sodding well chose.  And it was catching on!  Then Usher had to go and send a mob down here!  Crowley glowered, he could just see how this would go.  The men would attack the women.  Women would attack the men.  Locals would step in.  Violence would get out of hand.  Shops and homes and vehicles would be broken and burned.  With enough mischief in the air, and Usher, sod ‘im, had made sure there was enough mischief tonight, the mayhem and rioting could leave a burned out husk of the vibrant community, capable of blighting a neighborhood for years, decades even. 

What the Hell did Usher want? Just to get him discorporated? To see if Crowley would side with the nastier group and have his camouflage flip over to look like one of the swaggering bastards shouting about doing whatever they liked?  Claiming it was what the law said, claiming it was what the Church said?   To get Crowley up before the Dark Council defending whatever he did next?  Because either way, Crowley was in trouble.  He was out a place to survive if he let the riot happen or he was probably going to be up on charges of ‘‘doing good’’ if he tried to stop it.

Fuming in the ever narrowing space between the two groups, something in Crowley snapped.  Usher could push those sodding bastards down any street he liked, but not this one .  This street was his and he was blessed if he was going to let it get destroyed because of Usher’s petty, stupid, power games! Because …because it was…He didn't have time for…Aggggh!  Because he did have an angel!   And damn it all, he wasn't afraid to use him!

On hearing a frustrated snarl, Aziraphale looked up into the furious glare of the demon.  The next thing he knew, Crowley spun and grabbed him by the lapels. “You’ve got to do something about this, angel!” Crowley growled, right up in his face,  “Good thwarting evil kindov thing is right in your job description!!” there was a desperate edge to the demand.

Aziraphale snorted through his nose and grasped the demon’s hands as if to pull them off, but then just held them instead where they vibrated with tension.

Aziraphale retorted, “Yes, of course , but how else!? I'm already speeding the Met along and all the neighborhood is coming out to witness!” the angel raised a hand to upper story windows sliding up and shop doors opening.

Glancing around at the expanding audience, Crowley shook his head, chin length red hair whipping about.

“This is about to explode, right now, angel!  People are going to get hurt !”

“Crowley, I'm sure it won't come to that!” Crowley's furious countenance slipped into a mask of disbelief.  “It's not like we can get away with calmly strolling out into the jam, manifesting our true forms, and telling them all to behave!” Crowley's disbelief was turning into something.  Acceptance, Aziraphale hoped. “It isn’t the done thing!” Aziraphale laughed nervously, stepping back from the demon’s suddenly slack grip on his coat to try and get all parties into view, in case he was wrong and he did have to figure out how to step in. 

Crowley let go of the angel’s lapels, hands loose at his sides, head down, Aziraphale's words ringing in his ears.   Into the jam… into the jam…Aziraphale was reaching out to pat his shoulder but froze at the wild look spreading over Crowley's face. Dancing from foot to foot, Crowley looked up and down the street from the marching women to the men yelling obscenities and lewd suggestions. Looking down at his kilt and up at the angel, the demon exclaimed “Naaawwh!  Haven’t ye heard of a Highland Charge?” Aziraphale's face was a picture now.   Realizing Crowley's intention too late, Aziraphale reached out a hand as though to draw him back as the demon, looking like a skinny youth with nothing but a determined expression, unorthodox dress sense, and some big boots sprinted out into the street hollering over his shoulder,

“See ya later, angel!  If they gi’e me another body that is!” 

Arriving alone in the space between the groups on the wings of his own eerie, ululating cry, a sound that broke through catcalls, cursing, and other commotion, Crowley faced himself towards the mob of men.  In the sudden, shocked silence, he took a great breath. 

Aziraphale, somehow prevented from joining Crowley in the fray, did the only thing he could think of, he began to pray.

If you like my drabble, check out my Masterlist

[grailknightmonty]

in spite of all the pain it brings, i wouldn't change a single thing.

My funky little entry I made for the Fallen Kingdom fanzine for jordo's birthday!! :D I wanted to really encompass an idea of Rising Kingdom being a song from both the king and jordan himself's perspective based on a the battle from the MV but also a sort of sense of solidarity (plus all the details in the background)

also this was a perfect opportunity to draw jordan as a warden ive been obsessed with chase's warden!Jord AU hehe

Check out all the entries here!

[ourownsidefund]

Happy New Year, fandom!

In the past several months, you have raised a total of $1265 on GoFundMe and $938 through the auction event, all for Take Back the Night to support sexual assault survivors.

You've spread the word, you've donated, and you've given your time and skills. We cannot possibly thank you enough.

Please look forward to more events in 2025, including continued charity commissions and the release of "A Bright Star," a digital charity zine releasing in April for Sexual Assault Awareness Month.

Again, thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for all of your generosity this year.

Our GoFundMe!

Our Linktree!

Commission art or fic for charity!

[kendigremartista]

My entry for the Fallen Kingdom Zine - a Royal Family Birthday! Had a lot of fun (and stress) editing this whole project myself but I loved everyone's entries!

Here is the free fanzine to read and look over!

[mcsm1-1-mistakes]

Fallen Kingdom Banners FINISHED

Well that didn’t take long. LOL! There weren’t as many banners and maps as I thought there were...

Like my Ultimate Minecraft: Story Mode Banner Set that I posted a few months back, this is an accompanying version for the Captain Sparklez "Fallen Kingdom" music video series. This room contains the most relevant maps, banners, and hieroglyphics that were featured in those videos. They are on display next to buttons that will give you the exact map needed. There's a button to give yourself invisible item frames so you can take advantage of transparencies. And a structure block file is included so you can import this into your own map easily. To get the maps into your world all you have to do is copy/paste the map files into your world's data folder and use the buttons to give them to you. Or you can use the following command (incrementing the map numbers as needed) to give them to yourself:

/give @p minecraft:filled_map{map:5503}

I take no credit in the design of the artworks themselves, I am merely providing the ability to import them into your world. Some of the maps (such as the master and student painting) are designed to be placed inbetween 2 blocks instead of on the block, because that's how they were presented in the music video.

You can download the banners/maps here.

[drmonkeysetroscans]

Male rage.

[valdin-s]

i'm withered and decayed from the burden of carrying memories from ages long past

my bones have turned to dust whilst my flesh was long ago carried away by the carrion birds

Take Back the Night by CaptainSparklez is 10 years old

recovery from this information shall take eons