#Verse: revolutionary

[mothidocandart]

i need every media I like to feel like a fever dream actually. If I don’t watch it/read it/listen to it and go “what the fuck was that” then it’s not my favorite media

[nnnnnnnnnnnnnnsposts]

There are only 4 days remaining to @moatazart campaign so please donate while you still can! Any amount helps! And if you can't reblog and share! Verified by @nabulsi @el-shab-hussein @northgazaupdates

This fundraiser is verified by @el-shab-hussein Donate to Sahar and her family so they can get out of gaza! Currently raised 26,805 out of 50,000!

This fundraiser is verified by @palestinegenocide @90-ghost @apollos-olives @riding-with-the-wild-hunt and their number is #218 Currently raised 16,390 out of 30,000!!

This fundraiser is verified by @mohammedalanqer @northgazaupdates

@communistchilchuck

Mohammed taysir is a 34 years old Palestinian living in gaza he is married and has two children joud 3 years old and yazan 2 years old he is trying to raise funds for his family to leave Gaza currently he has raised 4,017 out of 50,000 Please go donate to them! Any amount helps!!! And if you can't reblog/share!!!

Verified by @nabulsi @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost vetted list line 205 currently raised 19,641 out of 50,000!!

URGENT FUNDRAISER ❗❗ Verified by @90-ghost @northgazaupdates@Vetted-gaza-funds currently raised 2,758 out of 60,000!!

Verified by @90-ghost @northgazaupdates 5,746/20,000

verified by @90-ghost 59,107/300,000

13,482/20,000 verified by @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein

13,112/35,000 vetted by @/inthefaceofada

61,110/100,000 vetted by operation olive branch entry number 26

[deermouth]

Surely this ad in the silt verses tag is effective

[fingerfiend]

yuji being a one piece stan is canon in my heart… i think zoro or franky would be his favorite straw hat

[shady-mc-muffin]

Hello,

I hope you are well ❤️

I am writing to you today with a heavy heart and an urgent request for help💔

My family is in a very dangerous situation due to the ongoing war, 🇵🇸🇵🇸and I have launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them.🕊️🙏

I would greatly appreciate it if you could share the campaign post from my profile, as every share could play a crucial role in rescuing my family.

Our campaign has been verified👌

and any small donation will make a significant impact for us.🙏

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support and kindness.❤️🌹🌹

🌷https://gofund.me/f6d17b3e🌷

6,030/50,000

[lunalivvy]

i just wanna address how incredible and honestly game changing the success of the spider verse movies is.

animation is an incredibly underrated/under appreciated medium- so many people still boil down animated movies/animation in general as something just for kids but the popularity of across the spiderverse is genuinely opening up so many doors and opportunities for animation as a whole and introducing so many people to the idea that animation can be more than just kids movies and garner respect for the medium. and opening the door for so many unique art styles to emerge, i’m so ready to see more diverse art styles that isn’t just the usual cookie cutter, cartoony but realistic disney movie-esque style of animation

[halfalgorithm]

Get Another Boyfriend by the Backstreet Boys came out 24 years ago and it still goes hard tbqh

[cafeleningrad]

this show really does me no good. I try to actually work towards one essay topic but from this one topics several others branch off. And now I think way too much about the literature typification of fairytales. Before this actually becomes an essay about fairy tales, little side note that the Shadow Theater Girls remind my in style and movement so much of Lotte Reiniger animation movies which were, funny enough, also fairy tales.

[mongeese]

It's just me and my Paige/Hayward "not necessarily romantic but insanely devoted to and obsessed with each other" agenda against the world

[pinknredbracket]

❤️🩷WELCOME TO THE SEMIFINALS OF THE ONE AND ONLY (I think,,,) PINK AND RED CHARACTER DUO BRACKET!!🩷❤️

They’re gay! That’s all I know about them, I’m sorry for the lesser welcome to the ring, even though they are just as swag, say hello to,

UTENA TENJOU and ANTHY HIMEMIYA from REVOLUTIONARY GIRL UTENA!

AAAAAND in this corner, we know them, a lot of you love them, they’re getting a sequel movie on June 1st, WELCOME,

GWEN STACY and MILES MORALES, from INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE!

now, I want you all to be calm cool and collected when you make your votes, be kind to each other in your propaganda, and give it everything you’ve got to get your blorbos to the finals! SO. Without further ado, may I present to you, THE POLLS!

❤️🩷VOTE AWAY!🩷❤️

[space-ghost-with-the-most]

These are so low quality bare with me i live in 1948

Some more Spider!Luffy au! This time with actual vigilante Sabo, he's a little fucked up. (It's a lot, a lot fucked up.)

I am plagued with the indecision on if Luffy is just the only spider in his dimension then some dimension shenanigans happen and he meets other spiders like him and forms the Straw Hat Society purely on accident (he literally just started a friendship across dimensions, what a guy), or if his friends are in his universe and are an assortment of normal humans/vigilantes beside him... I can't pick both work so well. Look me in the eyes and tell me Zoro would not instantly tell Luffy is the new vigilante despite the hair being different.

Miguel wouldn't like Luffy just cause, and I'm right. (Maybe it could be something along the lines of ATSV but with Ace, who knows.) Now onto Sabo! He's a law college student and functions of 2 hours of sleep everyday and scares the living shit out of everyone, Koala is convinced he's on the verge of insanity (he is.) He started hanging around Dragon after a mysterious fire accident (I haven't decided what yet bare with me) gave him amnesia and Dragon couldn't just leave him and took him to his law firm and accidentally adopted him. Dragon's got a batman/batfamily kinda thing going on with him where he keeps adopting weird kids while fighting crime and they eventually follow in his footsteps, hence why Sabo is now Firefly while also trying to be a lawyer.

He did not pick Firefly as his name whatsoever but people saw his headphone/comms antennas they started calling him that as a joke since they already have a Spider-Man and then it stuck and Sabo hates it.

I'm still workshopping his costume but I needed to post after getting released it was important

He's not fond of Sun-Weaver at all at first because he's trying to do his own thing alone with his team (Koala is so a 'guy in the chair') and now this vigilante wont leave him alone and keeps insisting they become friends and he eventually gets worn down like every other poor soul who thinks they can deny Monkey D Luffy something. Oh when he gets his memories back, ohhh...

[99probalos]

drew these gross guys in my sketchbook instead of paying attention to my geology course videos today. cliff arlo and 70s!ray living in my brain and cutting my neurons in half

[deermouth]

Some of my fav parts of tsv 32 were where the radio host deploys "oh but how would a reduction in sacrifice affect the ~marginalized faithful~,"

and where Hayward and Paige give their reactions to divergent theories on the theoretical focus and optics (naming) of the Woundtree cult.

These bits felt very similar to the way in which Disco Elysium approaches social commentary in an alt universe—mocking weaponized liberal idpol in the former example, and compassionately poking fun at common sites of leftist infighting in the latter. I would never say the two properties have the same tone—tsv is explicitly horror, after all—but even through the horror and tragedy, the recognition made me cackle a couple of times.

[jeenkits]

What if.

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Eye for an Eye

Silco and Vi have a chat in Stillwater.

From 'heron blue,' an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and political schemings. Full story on AO3

She sees fire. She sees red. Red on his clothes, on his hands; in his mangled, inhuman iris; on the silvered edge of his poisoned tongue.

"Vander's prodigy." She hasn't heard the sickly gravel of that voice in six years. It ripples beneath her skin, and sits there. Etches the drawling cadence of every vowel into her bones. "I regret that we've yet had the ability to speak." 

A tilt of his head. Through the bars, doused in shadow, his mismatched stare sharpens. "I'd have made the journey sooner," he rumbles on, "but, you see—the time would be a waste, for a dead girl." His good eye narrows, a scathing flash of blue radium. "And yet."

Vi breathes in quick, harsh. She swallows it down.

He looks like a creature the Pilt chewed off and spit back out: a sinewed blot of shadow, bones and flesh, wrapped in leather and silk-weaved linen. There's an animal under his skin—a tidewater predator watching from the shallows, silent and still. Waiting.

She scuffs the sweat from her temple. Feigns indifference. "Who the hell are you?"

His brow perks. "Don't you remember?" His hands shift behind his back, held laxly there, as though folded around a knife. "Surely the walls haven't rotted your head that easily."

"I remember," Vi snarls, baring her teeth. "Like hell I'd forget." And she'd tried. Kindreds above and below, she'd tried to wipe her mind of that night, a lifetime over. Spite coils under her tongue. "But, y'know—don't really care about the name of some rat in the street. Might have to remind me, there."

She can't tell under the dim light whether the crook of his mouth is a sneer or a smile. It passes too quickly for her to care.

"Well. You've Vander's tongue as much as his damned fists, don't you?"

Her nails carve into her palms, hard enough to draw blood. She paces across the back of the cell, glaring. 

Don't you dare say his name. Don't you dare—

Silco stands still as stone, two steps from the red line that chips over the cement floor. Silver glints in his hand. He's slipped a gilded cigarette case from the breast pocket of his coat. His thin, willowed fingers pluck one roll out, snap the case shut, and flick open the hinge of its lighter. The crackling hush of the drag he takes rattles over the stones: fills the air with a dry, ambered spice. 

It's not like Vander's pipe: cheap, heady, citrus and cinnamon. It reeks of expense. It's the same peppery smoke that sits on his clothes, bittersweet and earthen, laced with juniper berry and cedar. It hisses out from his lungs, a blue thread unspooled, clouding about him in a thin haze. His dead eye leers through it.

"Come here, girl," he says, and takes a step forward. Under the ripple of the light, he's taller than she took him for; taller than she remembers, cowered on those rickety grates behind a wall of other bodies. His right eye—a frigid, dirtied blue, like the underside of a glacier—cuts to her tattered boots, and climbs. "Let me look at you."

The words gut into her, vilely. She wheels on him. Her fist slams into the bars, hard enough to make an ugly, chorusing echo through the steel. "Bastard."

"Charmed."

He stands on that thin red line, puffing away on his cigarette, and stares at her, as though trying to make sense of a riddle in a paper, or picking through the nuances of an artist's strokes. Her fingers snare hard on the bars, hard enough to stain her bloodied knuckles white. She glares right back at him. Pristine coat, lithe hands; scratched up, grayed out face; swept-back hair, flecked with silver; steel-tipped boots. There's a knife handle under his belt. A knife handle nearly in arm's reach.

"You couldn't have been more than fourteen, then," he mutters. The words carry a taint of wonder, in their remembrance. It plunges, swiftly, to distaste. "Tearing through my men, like a tank through the trenches." He scoffs. Now, he is sneering: the scarred line of his lip baring crooked teeth, his cigarette pinched between his fingers. "What good are you, left to waste away under these Piltie scum?"

"I didn't ask to be here—"

"Oh, no. You asked for revolution." His eyes spear into hers, an unwavering burn. "You were denied."

Blood ticks between her fingers, scalding on the cell bars. Those words itch into her; find the festering resentment she's left abandoned, over months and years shackled within these walls, and gnaw at it. 

"You sold Vander out," she says, heat broiling just beneath the words. "You stabbed him. I saw it. You killed him—"

"Vander sold himself out, girl," and he is walking, with the slow, prowling lope of a wolf; the fluid circling of a shark in the deep. "Laid his throat under the enforcers' boots, like a mutt on a leash. I paid my dues—nine years of it—while he sat back and cowered." He strides over the red line, and stops, inches from her battered fists. "He owed me a debt," he says, plainly. His cigarette skims the grayed blot of dead flesh that stretches over his cheek. "Eye for an eye; tooth for a tooth."

Her hands shake. She sees the flames, eating up the cannery with the roar of a living thing. Hears the bellows of their arguing, split apart in fritzing static and neon-blue. "What did you do with my sister?" 

He ticks the ash from his cigarette. It falls to a swirl of embers at his feet. "You, however," Silco prattles on, blithely ignoring her. His fingers wave through the air, with the nonchalance of a royal: a razor-edged flit of smoke and cinder. "Now—what I wouldn't have given to see you storm this wretched city, yourself. You still could, if you only had the gall." His heels sweep over the concrete: th-thump, th-thumping: fall still at one end of the cell. His eyes flit curiously across its hinges. "These bars, girl—tell me: have they strengthened you? Or leashed you, as well?"

She doesn't have time for this. You talk too much.

"What did you do with my sister—?"

"Jinx?"

A cold pit plunges through her stomach, and twists.

Because you're a jinx! Mylo was right!

"She's alive," he says slowly, the rasp of his low, scratched-out throat worlds away. The look on his face is unreadable: deceptively blank: scathing. "Safe," he adds, with a lilt of his head. "Though—as I'd been led to believe—you're good as dead, to her."

Vi pulls in a tight, heavy breath. "Her name is Powder." 

"Her name is her own. She chose it." The dagger of his teal eye thins: hunts for something under her shaking bones, something she can't see. "From what I gather," he mulls, "it was your parting gift." 

Slices in.

[mothidocandart]

how has no one done anything with Anthy and Utena and Waltz no2 by Elliot Smith yet

Like. HELLO???