#i did not intend to let this one leave the discord server but

[lil-lemon-snails]

I uh... i just hit 300 followers??? So as a warning thank you, here's some of my most self-indulgent art

Welcome to my blog :'3

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

In the face of recent news about our beloved Destiny, I think it’s more important than ever for us as a community to come together and support each other in numerous ways.

It’s been a very hard week for all of us, especially those who lost their jobs and outlet for their passion in mass lay offs. Losing a position that allowed you to craft magnificent stories alongside some of the most ambitious people in the gaming industry, especially in worrying economic circumstances, must be excruciating to deal with and I wish the best for all those laid off from Bungie.

For us fans, it hurts more than anything to see the game you care so much for get put in headlines for how little that care is shared amongst the people responsible for making decisions on it. I’ve been into Destiny since it first dropped, making it the love of my life for nearly two-thirds of my whole existence , and to hear about how it’s just another product to be sold when it’s everything and more to me is just despairing. I wanted to become a writer and concept artist to create a game for others that made them feel as cared for as I did when I played Destiny and now I’m sitting here seeing all the people who helped foster that feeling be treated as another expenditure.

It’s awful, a lot of us are feeling really uninspired and betrayed at the moment, not sure we even want to see what will happen to this masterpiece of a game in the hands of the current executives. We are also dearly missing the developers, artists, writers, and more who made Destiny more than a fps looter shooter.

But it is times like these where we are torn and confused that we must uplift one another and not let the bitter taste of Bungie’s actions make us speak with hostility. This is not about decisions on whether to support Bungie or the actual game, but about refocusing on what truly makes Destiny enjoyable to so many.

Its world is immersive with care put into every story and that clearly shows in just how eager fans are to create masterpieces for it. It was never playing the game or the notoriety that kept me coming back for more, but the joy of creation I could share with others.

It stings to see a disinterest in nursing the potential of the Destiny universe from the executives with motivations other than monetary gain, but when the executives won’t care, we can. There are still employees at Bungie who adore their work and we can continue to support them by speaking up against horrible industry practices and show that we won’t abandon their efforts to make Destiny what it is.

Make ocs, write fanfictions, follow the former employees wherever they go, draw til your heart is overflowing, join Discords, roleplay, share headcanons, create aus with friends, do whatever keeps Destiny alive and flourishing for you!

Destiny will never die to me, even when it’s long forgotten and the servers shut down, because Destiny made me who I am and I intend to repay that gift an infinite amount of times over. The characters and universe will be alive and well to me until I die, regardless of the fate of the game and Bungie.

So go out and prove that Destiny’s themes of the power of community and hope are more than just morals behind a screen, that they are life changing messages that we will carry on despite hopeless news!!

Reblog charming artists, message people about ships you enjoy, leave questions and tags that contribute to conservations, write essays about what Destiny means to you!!

My messages and inbox for questions are always open if anyone would like to talk (I’m trying to get better at answering them, even if they are months late)! You are all welcome here and I want to start reblogging and liking more freely even if those things scare me sometimes!

We can decide our fates and we can decide the fate of Destiny’s presence in our lives as well! We can choose to care when others won’t and refuse to make our enjoyment debatable!! In troubling times, we should be able to reach out into the dark and find hands to hold onto tight!!

[chloesolace]

Can I request a oneshot where gn reader reassures Wyll that he isn't a monster but someone who is so good that he sold his soul to help others & he is just amazing to them? Not Wyll Ravengard, Son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, not Blade of Frontiers, but just Wyll. And the horns, bumpy skin, & the blackened eye are living proof of his strong moral compass. That's the man they fell in love with!

Petrichor - Wyll x Reader

summary: You find Wyll alone after Mizora turned him into a devil, and realize that this transformation is making him question more than just his worth as a fighter. But you are determined to show him that he is still the man you fell in love with, no matter the horns.

pairing: Wyll Ravengard x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me a bit longer, I needed a break from writing for a few days. But thank you so much for this request! I thought it was a very cute idea and hope that you like what I came up with <3 and some general info: this month will be very slow for me in terms of creative writing since I need to submit my thesis until early Feb. I will write another story from my Taylor Swift series and then open requests again, most likely in late January!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info

You saw his horns peek out from behind a rock, followed by the sound of muffled sobs. Clutching onto a nearby stone, you dug your nails into the slick surface, a remnant of the rain that had ceased not too long ago. The air was thick with petrichor, and the muddy ground was slippery as you cautiously placed one foot in front of the other.

His figure emerged from behind the rock as you approached, and you observed him crouched down, hands grasping his head desperately. His fingers curled around the horns that had forced themselves from his skull, barely touching. You swallowed as you dropped your gaze from his horns to his face, which he hid behind his forearms. Only when you called his name did he look up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse, suggesting he had been crying for a while. You looked down at him, brows furrowed with worry, as you extended a hand to place it on his shoulder. He tensed beneath your touch, yet the way he averted his gaze hurt even more.

“I was worried about you,” you said, crouching down next to him while you searched his gaze. He wouldn't meet it. “The smell of sulfur still stains our camp,” you continued, letting your eyes drop to the puddle in front of you. You could only assume with how much hatred Wyll had looked at that reflection on the surface before you arrived. It pained you to even think about it. “You haven’t been eating.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, turning to look at you. His voice sounded rougher than he intended it to be. You could tell by the way he grimaced once the words had left his lips, exhaling deeply to regain some control. “I don’t want you to look at me, (y/n). Not like this.”

Your jaw tensed, and you sat down on the muddy grass next to him, not caring about how the ground stained your trousers dark grey and green. The only thing that mattered to you at the moment was him. The moment Mizora had appeared in your camp, you knew it would mean nothing good.

“You’re not fine, and I am not leaving.” Your voice was determined, definitive. He had known you long enough to understand that it made no sense to argue, so he remained silent as he let his arms drop from his head. You searched his gaze once more, raising an arm to cup his cheek gently. The look on his face broke your heart.

“What Mizora did is horrible, Wyll,” you agreed, letting your thumb run over the elevated lines on his cheek; a consequence of his new, devilish form. You wondered just how much his body had changed, your heart aching with the thought of him removing his clothes only to find a stranger hiding underneath them.

“I should have never entered this deal with her,” he said silently, and you shook your head, using the hand that was still on his cheek to make him look at you. Your grip was firmer now, nails gently grazing his temple and jaw.

“Look at me,” you said softly, eyes flickering between his. “There is no use reliving the past; all it does is torment you. And I hate seeing you tormented.”

He remained silent, but you saw the conflict in his mismatched eyes; the pain hiding behind them. “I am afraid,” he began, his voice low, “that torment is all I have left now.”

You shook your head quickly, almost violently, as you exhaled in frustration. “No, Wyll. Don’t you even dare think that, you hear me?”

He turned away, brushing your hands off of him before he stood. His eyes were locked on the puddle at his feet before he stepped into it, ruining the mirror image of himself in the process. His gaze now turned ahead, to the valley which the little mountain you stood on overlooked. There were a few trees, and a long, narrow river slithering through them like a snake hunting for prey.

“Every time I look at my reflection, I’m reminded of my mistakes,” he admitted, not even noticing how you rose to your feet, watching from behind as he spoke. “But it is not only that. When I lay down at night to sleep, I can’t lay on my side anymore because the horns get in the way. I used to be a side sleeper. Every time I touch my forehead, I feel them. When I fight, I am not used to having them in the way. I make mistakes, get clumsy.”

He balled his hands into fists at his sides and let out a frustrated sigh as he turned his head ever so slightly in your direction. You had crossed your arms in front of your chest, keeping your distance despite it being the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to run to him, to hug him, but you did not move.

“They not only make me less human but less of a fighter, too,” Wyll continued, his voice lower, as if he was saying it more to himself than you.

“Wyll,” you said calmly, not taking your eyes off him as you approached him. “Mizora thinks she ruined you, punished you for disobeying her.” You saw him stiffen but continued anyway to make your point. “But she did none of that. Because what she doesn’t see is that it is your heart that is pure. It is a weapon your magic and swordsmanship are only fuel for.”

He turned to face you, and you used the chance to press your palm against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart against it. “And she cannot touch it. She cannot change your nature. Gold is still gold, even if painted over. What matters is not the reflection you see in puddles, but the good that you do. You do not need to hide behind names and appearances. I did not fall in love with them. To me, you are Wyll, just Wyll, and you always have been. You are the man I fell in love with, and that is what she cannot touch no matter how hard she tries. She cannot change your nature. You sold your soul so you could help people. It is the ultimate sacrifice.”

He stared at you with glassy eyes as he listened, lips slightly parted. His hand found yours, and he held it tightly. Your voice was now a little shaky since seeing the look on his face made it hard not to get emotional.

“What is inside of here,” you said, brushing his cheek gently with the back of your fingers. You caught a tear there and brushed it away softly with your thumb. “That is who I fell in love with, and that won’t ever change.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, his words swallowed by a half-hearted chuckle. His eyes flickered between yours, but you simply smiled softly at him. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I will be by your side, no matter what happens. I will be here to remind you of who you are, until you learn to do so yourself. I love you.”

Wyll placed his hands on your cheeks, blinking away tears that would have fallen otherwise. “I love you, too, (y/n).” His demeanor changed then. His voice was serious as he added, “And I swear, if Mizora comes for you I will do everything in my power to protect you.” 

“I know.” You smiled at him, gaze dropping to his lips before you captured them with yours, wrapping your arms around him as a light drizzle began falling around you, distorting the reflection of your kiss in the puddles around you. 

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Witchy Woman (10/10)

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Author Note:

I confess that I struggled with this chapter far, far more than I could have predicted. Some of it was stress-induced writer's block that has started to clear as we approach the final stages of this move. Some of it was the fear of ending this in a way that leaves you disappointed.

I have pages and pages of struck material as I debated what to do with this chapter. With the conflict resolved and most of the questions of who, how, and what answered, I wrestled with what ending would make this story feel complete.

After months of writing, rewriting, stalling, scowling, and saying "I need to write this one chapter for my supernatural summer fic this weekend", I humbly set this before you and hope that it was worth the wait.

I cannot thank the CSMM Discord server enough for the encouragement and unfailing support in getting any writing done, but especially for the love and check-ins surrounding this fic. Thank you so, so much.

Finally, extra love to Marta and Krystal for having a sixth sense for when I was writing again. Your notes, check-ins, cheering, listening to my life drama, prayers, and such have meant more to me than you could ever know.

Enjoy! ---- ---- ---- ----

Sometime later...

Killian had never known nerves as he did now. He could feel his hold on his magic slipping as his emotions threatened to get the better of him as though he were a child again - rather than a mature vampire with centuries of experience successfully regulating his emotions and controlling his magic. Not knowing what to do with this abundance of jittery energy, Killian paced around the beautiful, blooming red Middlemist flowers. 

When he pictured this scene in his mind, he thought the flowers would set a romantic scene. They were a favourite of Emma’s and with Ruby’s affinity for earth magic, they’d made a beautiful field of flowers where Regina’s corrupted magic had once left nothing but rot. Now, he wondered if the red was more reminiscent of blood than passion. Maybe the location of that horrible event in their past should not have been revisited for this particular moment. 

He could hear her careful footsteps entering the forest, her steady heartbeat calling to him and calming him all at once. He reached into his pocket - just making sure - and waited for her to arrive at the clearing. 

“Killian,” she called before he could see her, a smile clear in her voice. “You do know…” But whatever she intended to say next failed her as she stepped into sight. "Oh," Emma breathed out. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the flowers now overflowing the grove. 

“I, erm,” Killian’s voice cracked. “You came into my life and filled the bleakest parts of it, of me, with hope, so I wanted to do the same for you.”

“This is beautiful. Thank you.” 

Killian knelt before her and held the intricate ring between them, the sapphire and diamonds glittering in the sunlight. He smiled up at her, the shimmer of tears present in her eyes, and - instantly - all the words he rehearsed for weeks escaped him. “Please, will you share the rest of your life with me?”

Sometime a bit later...

At some point, when Emma was not paying attention, Killian had become essential. It wasn't that she needed him to survive, that fear that had kept her from giving herself over to the pull of their connection when they were younger. Rather, with him, her life was simply better. 

Looking back on it, she realised this was a truth that she had always known - when they spent all those years apart, they still worked together and were friendly. Even with solid walls protecting her heart, she could not deny they made a good team. Now those walls were a distant memory. Now her heart beat in time with his, a ribbon of magic between them confirming the pull she had always felt toward him had always been more than a passing attraction. Killian had once told her they were mates. Mary Margaret had said they shared True Love and that was a powerful, but rather mysterious, magic. Emma thought of it more as two wandering, lost souls finding a home, a sanctuary, in one another. 

Coming home to Killian every night had been a bit of an adjustment. Emma spent her life solving problems for other people, but she often buried her thoughts or issues away. Killian gave her space to exist without and room to…feel. At first, she would apologise for spilling out all her problems or being so needy. He’d pull her into him, ask her about her troubles and validate her feelings until her guilt faded away and just peace remained. Overtime, she realised that this was something she should have always had - space and time to be more than someone else’s problem solver. 

A sharp jab beneath her ribs interrupted her musings. She rubbed her hand against the round protrusion now visible on one side of her hugely pregnant belly. Mary Margaret assured her that her baby bump was perfectly normal, but Emma worried she would never see the stairs below her or be able to pick up something she'd dropped, again. A part of Emma wondered if her little one was maybe too comfortable and would just keep growing and growing... Elsa assured her that her healthy baby boy would be here very soon. Emma had been so thrilled to tell Killian they were having a boy that she forgot to ask Elsa to define “soon.” 

The tiny foot pushed into her palm. Unlike the previous movement, this was a gentle pressure against her hand. As ready as she was to meet her little one, she knew she’d miss having him to herself like this. She knew he was a creature of habit; she could tell the time down to the second based on his movements. About five minutes before her usual lunch break, he would be active except on Wednesdays. He didn’t move much on Wednesdays, probably busy growing and such. After dinner, he got the hiccups. He always played back when she pressed her hand against him. It was strange how much she felt she knew this little creature despite having never seen his face or heard his voice.

"Your smile could ignite wars," Killian said as he crossed to her. He kissed her cheek, "inspire masterpieces." He kissed her other cheek, "and revive the blackest of hearts." He met her lips with a sweet kiss, his hand cradling her jaw and his eyes closed as he savoured the kiss as though it were water and he a man lost in the desert. No matter how often they kissed or how chaste the kiss, Killian savoured them all in this way - as though he had been dying and she had given him the air he needed to survive.

Despite the flush his flowery words brought to her cheeks, she rolled her eyes at him. She wrapped her hand around his and took a small step back, pressing his hand to her pregnant belly where the foot had been moments before. "He's up." 

"Hey, lad." At the gentleness and awe wrapped around those words, Emma's heart threatened to burst. She thought she could not love this vampire more, but still, more depth remained. Sometimes, she wasn't sure her heart could hold it all. 

A series of kicks met his words and touch. Killian's answering smile made her eyes burn with tears - the moment too perfect, too...everything...for her to process. 

"I love you," she said wishing there was another word or phrase to relay the emotions rolling through her in this moment. It was love, sure. But, it felt like so much more. It was bigger, endless and boundless, eternal and ancient. She felt a sudden warmth wrapping around her and flowing through her, Killian's emotions meeting hers and holding them together through that strange bond they shared. 

Even more time later...

Emma’s head rested heavily on his chest. Killian ran his fingers through her hair, gently taming the wild locks that had reached out to tickle his chin. He listened to her heart and breathing as she slept. Despite the soothing sound of her steady heartbeat and the softness of her features as she dreamed, he felt the chill of fear creeping up his spine. 

She will wake with the sun. He held firm to that thought; it was his anchor through this particular storm.

Years may have passed, but the dread he’d felt that long week, as he waited for her to wake, refused to dampen or fade. Rather, it wrapped around his heart and stole quiet moments like this one from him. 

He recalled the evening before in as much detail as he could pry from his memory. The long relieved sigh that had escaped from Emma as she sank into her side of the bed, the soft sound of her voice carrying from Liam’s room as she read last night’s chapter to him and his sister as they drifted off to sleep, her green eyes sparkling with humour when Hope transformed her lamb stew into cereal when Killian refused to give into the toddler’s demand, the comfortable - almost routine - kiss she gave him when she arrived home. Hundreds of similar moments came together to paint the full picture of their life together. Recalling them had loosened the tightness in his chest until he was able to watch his wife as she slept without wondering if she would find his way back to him when morning came.

She rolled off him, taking the covers with her. Rest would be even more elusive than usual this evening. Killian considered slipping out of bed for a late-night drink, but the chill of fear threatened to return. The warmth of Emma’s back pressed against his arm kept him grounded - leaving was not an option tonight. With a sigh, Killian picked a book up from his bedside table and settled in to pass the night. 

A few chapters later, a solid thud from Liam’s room pulled him back out of the story. The soft sound of blankets rustling followed shortly after, his only warning, before the air shimmered and deposited his youngest in his bed. Hope’s small toes were already digging into his side like tiny daggers as she wiggled and snuggled in what little space existed between him and his wife. He wrapped an arm around the little intruder and tucked her close to his chest, hoping not to disturb his wife. Hope turned into him- her head tucked comfortably (for her) in the crook of his arm and her eyes already closed. A soft sound between a coo and a sigh escaped from the intruder - somehow she was asleep once more. Killian watched her in wonder.

“You two are heartbreakingly beautiful together. It’s almost unfair,” Emma teased, her voice a gentle whisper in the night.

“Amazing how they fall asleep so quickly when they crawl in here at night given the battle they wage at bedtime. I am sorry we woke you, love.” He leaned toward her to press a kiss into her temple. But, pinned down as he was beneath the sleeping tot, he could not quite reach. He frowned dramatically at her - take pity on a poor vampire?

With the slightest eye roll, Emma relented and brushed the softest kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back and made to lie back down, his frown deepened into a full pout. A slight curve to her lips was all the warning he got before she leaned forward once more and nipped his bottom lip. She soothed the sting of her teeth with a few deep kisses before breaking their contact with a very self-satisfied smile. 

Killian ran his tongue over his lips to capture the warmth lingering from her kisses. Her loving teasing had melted away the last of his earlier anxieties. She slipped from the bed, his shirt falling to her thighs, and disappeared down the hallway. He smiled at her disappearing form and, content with his daughter in his arms and a lightness in his heart, drifted off to sleep. 

Much later… 

It was Sunday, so the delicious rich scent of a roast permeated through the house. He found Emma in the kitchen with flour covering her arms and the tip of her nose as she formed a pie crust. It would be spiced apple pie since that was Artie's favourite and Emma doted upon the child. Killian was also known to spoil the young boy, but who could blame them?

Killian was fairly certain that Hope’s little boy was the most perfect creature ever to have been formed, so they took every opportunity to shower Artie with all the adoration and love they could.

Being a parent had been a journey - sometimes rewarding and sometimes endlessly frustrating. Being a grandparent, however, was an absolute delight. Not only did he get to watch his strong-willed, independent daughter grow into a compassionate and endlessly patient mother, but he also got to soak up the phases of Artie's childhood in a way he hadn't as a parent. Rather than anticipating the next developmental milestone, worrying over the best school decision, or trying to figure out the best strategy to parent finding his child on the top of the kitchen cabinets at four in the morning, he found his role as a grandparent allowed him to be able to just play again. 

“Are you revealing your secret project today?” 

“I believe it is ready.” Killian looked out of the window overlooking the play set he had been designing and building over the last few weeks. Since Artie was over a few times a week, hiding the mammoth from the little pup had been quite a challenge, but Killian had somehow managed.

“The pirate ship theme is a nice touch. Artie loves your high seas tales, even as unbelievable as many of them had become…” Emma said as she smiled up at him. The sight stole his breath, as it had the first time she turned the full force of her unfiltered smile on him. Would there ever be a time where this woman would fail to affect him so deeply? 

“Are you accusing me of embellishing my stories?” Killian asked with mock offence. 

“It has been a few hundred years. You cannot be blamed for misremembering a few details.”

“I have fabricated no details of my experiences.”

Emma cocked in eyebrow - or tried to, Killian was still the most skilled that that trick - in disbelief. “The kraken, Killian?” 

“Every word of it is true.”

“Oh, yes. The kraken saw into your soul and deemed you a kindred soul and so joined your fight against the Royal Navy.” Killian’s ears turned a pink, even as he confirmed that, that was the truth of it. “It had nothing to do with your crew sneaking the fish you were feeding the monster for over a month onto their ships the night before the battle.”

“Aye...well, that might’ve played a small part,” Killian admitted sheepishly. 

“Mmhmm,” Emma agreed. She was pouring the filling into the crust - cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar warmed the air around them. 

Home. Both the feeling and the word filled him at present. He’d always pictured it as a building, a physical safe harbour to weather one’s life. But after decades spent with Emma, he knew it could be found in a relationship, in another person, and in the life that you create with them. 

“PAPA!” The shout was the only warning he had before his grandson launched at him, propelling them down to the floor in a heap of giggles. Today, their home would be filled with the family they created and there was nothing more Killian dared to want. 

Much, much later…

The legend that soul mate lifespans were entwined was proven true as decades of life faded into centuries. They shared joys beyond what either of them had dared dream. They weathered storms together, learning to turn in toward one another when they needed strength or a haven in which to be vulnerable. And through it all, they held fast to one another, secure in the love they shared and the partner with whom they shared it. 

In other words, they truly lived happily ever after.

Notes:

Oh, I hope you enjoyed this. I have been really anxious about hot to end this work and I really, really hope that you enjoyed the glimpses of their ever after. I look forward to hearing from you... even if I've let you down a bit. (If so, I am very sorry. I cannot emphasise just how many rewrites and attempts I made at this - and this is the one that felt the most right to me. I would ABSOLUTE understand if it doesn't feel as such to you.)

[pangolin-404]

little (big) announcement

Well, looks like Tumblr has taken the turn to sell data to Midjourney.

According to my archive, I've been in here for 6 or so years. I've stuck with this site for a long time, and believe it or not I'd call this hellsite a net positive for my life. I never intended to leave, even when Tumblr was boiled down to its skeleton crew. I thought I'd go out with the whole site when the servers rotted away. I've heard rumors that the CEO was taking a gander at AI but I never thought it'd pull through since the Tumblr userbase is vocally anti-AI. And, lo and behold, they slipped it as an opt-out thing into the settings very casually.

I want to hold out hope that the resulting backlash will urge Tumblr's CEO (as I don't blame most of the staff for this) to back out, but the trust has been damaged greatly over the past few months.

I do not want my art or writing or anything to be used to feed AI. As for my art, I am hesitant to keep posting here. I don't know what I'm waiting for. But if that nebulous reckoning of the end times comes, I will log out. I think I'm too emotionally attached to delete my account.

I have a Bluesky account which I am thinking of wholly migrating to. That feels weird to say; I never thought I'd make a social media account anywhere else. I made a lot of friends on Tumblr (who I am connected to via Discord and not strictly here, thankfully), and will be hunting for people I follow on BSKY as well.

I know, inevitably, not everyone will migrate to BSKY. Some people will choose Cohost (I did make an account there, but so few people I know here go there, it's not my first choice) or Dreamwidth as their new platforms of choice. But for those who are moving to Bluesky, I hope to find them.

I really don't want to leave Tumblr. Its culture and UI is truly one of a kind and is the biggest reason I've stayed. I don't want to wholly abandon ship just yet; maybe I'm too sentimental and we're already past the point of no return. I'll still be here, even if for a little while.

I'll be making this my new pinned for the foreseeable future, so let's get all this out of the way. Here's where I lurk:

Tumblr (Main) (here!)

Tumblr (Art Blog)

Bluesky (Main)

Bluesky (Art Blog)

Cohost (Main) (most likely to collect dust)

Archive of Our Own (writing only)

Neocities (as a side project, I suppose)

It's been fun. May we all trip over our shoelaces on our way out the door. o7

[fortpeat]

Hi! I hope you are doing ok. I know this might be coming out of the blue, but I feel the need to spread the word so other fans can see this and not go through the same that I have been. I recently joined a FortPeat server on Discord. I saw the invite on a tumblr tag and I thought it could be a good idea since most fandom spaces I've been in were usually wholesome and nice to meet new people and talk about the things we all have in common and love. I will be honest with you that I had actually thought the server had something to do with your account since I always see you in the fortpeat tags (I don't really use my tumblr account, I'm more of a lurker, I just recently got into the fortpeat fandom) and you always seemed to be like a lovely person. I was actually told by this server owner that you were also one of the server owners at some point, and I remember seeing one of your posts talking about "the discord incident"… I have no idea if both of these things are related to each other, but I understood immediately after talking to this server owner why you'd leave that place. This server is extremely toxic. I and another member were kicked out simply because we harboured a different opinion than the one from the server owner. She is a grown-ass woman and treats people in a really childish manner. She's condescending and passive-aggressive. She deleted our messages for no good reason and then said we were free to leave if we were not happy with her rules. The other member called her out on it and this is what got us kicked out. That was it. Nothing else. I thought for a second that I could've been somewhat rude, but another member of the server reached out to me in private to tell me this had happened many times before and that neither I nor the person who was kicked out were rude. So, my point with this ask is I hope whoever's still stuck in that graveyard filled with toxicity, please leave as soon as possible. I had other people reaching out to me since then to tell me that they also experienced really bad things there. I'm really sorry if you went through some shit because of it, but yeah. I hope the owner reflects on her attitude if she intends on keeping up with a server she clearly has, currently, zero capabilities of running if this is how she treats her members. Thank you so much, and I am sorry for the huge ask. I think it's important to let people know when fandom spaces are nasty. Love your blog! 🤍

Hi Nonnie ✨🥰

First of all sorry for the late response I needed some time to think through a proper response since it's a sensitive topic and I am typing this out while in the middle of a program and my Wifi is wacky so I don't know when you might get this 🫣

Now I am not gonna lie, when I first received this ask I was sceptical about even posting this. I tend to avoid all kinds of drama as I quite don't have the time for that but then I realized won't that mean I too am ignoring you the same way the server owner did and essentially cutting you off and I am not that kind of person. I believe that everyone deserves to have their opinion heard and from what you told me I think you deserve it especially when you are definitely not in the wrong.

But first things first. I am so sorry you went through something like that. Nobody deserves it least of someone who joined a server believing that it might be something good. I will tell you it used to be good but then everything kind of fell apart. I left that server back in Nov due to personal reasons and a disagreement with the server owner.

Now the discord incident.. it was more or less connected to this but it was also me and my best friend joking around coz the both of us have had bad experiences with it. I never thought anyone would pay attention to it 🫣🫣😂. Now I don't want to dish out my personal experiences publicly like this so if you ever want to talk privately my DMS are always open 🥰 I promise it to be safe space for you and anyone who wants to talk.

I would also like to thank you for opening up like this I am sure it must not have been easy to trust me especially after your experience. I hope in the future this doesn't cloud your judgement towards future servers you might want to join. There are lots of lovely people in the fandom and there are some in that very server as well.

Also thank you for raising this awareness. I never would have thought things would get this bad there. That too in a server that represents our beautiful Fortpeat and Paisky who has taught us nothing but the importance of proper communication 🥺🥺

I hope you have a good day nonnie 🥰✨

Here's some Fortpeat hugs to feel better 🥹🥰

[atalana]

HI SAW YOUR REBLOG ABOUT JAILBREAKING STUFF. I AM INTERESTED SO WHATS POPPING WITH THE JAILBREAKS IF YOU DONT MIND ME ASKING

honestly i am not the worlds foremost expert in jailbreaking, so apologies if i made it sound like i was!

what i was getting at mainly is that yeah when i was in middle school about... 15 years ago? you could find resources for jailbreaking (or similar modifications) pretty much anywhere, i did some myself with very little computer knowledge (comparatively), and the stuff i couldn't do i knew several classmates who could do it for me, and it sucks that not only is that knowledge buried much deeper now if it exists at all, but that tech companies have only doubled down on the making it near impossible to install anything on your devices that they didn't want there

(hell even something like making a backup of the files on a phone/tablet has gotten really tricky if you don't understand exactly how it works)

it's also a really wide topic im not sure where to start, bc im not sure what your background is in this already and what you'd want out of it?

but in terms of base terminology, jailbreaking/rooting is gaining full control over your device, being able to install things the manufacturers didn't intend, and uninstalling things they won't let you uninstall otherwise (as a disclaimer, this always comes with a bit of a risk, bc taking full control means you can make your device unusable if you do it wrong, but a lot of resources are designed to minimise that risk)

i'll leave this question open for others with more knowledge to add onto it if they wish, but stuff i can find with a quick search...

r/jailbreak for apple devices seems to be pretty good, they also have a discord server you could ask questions of if the terminology is going way over your head

magisk seems to be the safest way to root android devices these days, and this article covers it pretty in depth in approachable language for newbies

if you just want to roll back app updates you didn't like, i find uptodown pretty decent (this one i have used myself)

as far as computer stuff goes rather than phones/tablets, i would recommend getting a basic familiarity with html (for internet stuff) and what the command prompt is (for software - apparently it's called terminal on apple but i've only used windows), bc it'll make a lot of guides less scary - you don't have to be able to code changes yourself, but if you can look at someone else's code and go oh okay that's what you're doing there, or oh i recognise those terms/symbols, then you'll have a better sense of what to trust or what you're actually doing to your own computer

and yeah no keep asking questions that's a great way to start! the more background knowledge you acquire the easier it gets to start changing things to what you want them to be

[ninathekllrr]

Not my usual type of posts.

Everything below consists of drama and whatever that happened earlier today

Convinced adults are the most childish and immature people to exist. Especially the ones in the tumblr - creepypasta/slenderverse community ! If you have a problem with a discord server run and operated by TEENAGERS I don’t think it’s the best n smartest idea to drag it onto tumblr, esp since the problem had been long resolved. Just for that I’m being petty and posting about it 🤷

My server is not a bad place. So let’s have a small run through, shall we?? :3

What was said in the general chat right before the person dipped. The full thing didn’t fit on screen but at the top it said “im just gonna leave this here and i'll probably get kicked or banned for it but” (word for word copy n pasted.)

1) the whole point of reaching out to higher ups in server is for them to HEAR YOU OUT. All my mods including me did so and would’ve done in a more appropriate manner IF this person hadn’t done it in a general chat, when clearly it should’ve been discussed privately with me or any one of my mods.

Also it’s apart of the RULES might I add. The LAST rule right before u grab the role to access my server.

PSA this whole thing conjured up bc of an argument that was about slur usage in my server.

This is what irks me the most!!!

- being an adult, being diagnosed, and having experienced someone with an diagnosed disorder does not make you special. I’m glad you and your family are more privileged and have been able to receive real diagnosis and help from medical professionals but that isn’t a case for many. Especially when it comes to minors. Not being diagnosed, and esp being a teenager w mental illness doesn’t make us any less vulnerable then people who have gotten the change to be diagnosed and what-not. Also don’t use ur sister as leverage 😭😭 fake claiming aint cute either babess xP ! “(not accusing anyone here but I’ve experienced it like 4 times.)” is basically implying u believe the people in my server w dissociative disorders like DID OSDD PDID and etc are fakin’ it

SLUR USAGE IN MY SERVER

- this is what essentially caused the issue, because this person started a debate over people using slurs in my server. I was in school at the time this whole happened and only experienced the aftermath but based on the chats I had read and what my mods said in my absence; YES RECLAIMABLE SLURS ARE ALLOWED TO AN EXTENT. — slurs that can be reclaimed by the person using it are allowed to be thrown around moderately and only in joking-friendly mannerisms. If you’re uncomfortable with that then you either ignore em in the server or leave. There was NO NEED to start a issue that lasted several hours.

BOT PURPOSES — TUPPERBOX AND PLURAL.

My server is not a roleplay server and I have made that HEAVILY clear. It’s a creepypasta hang-out which is safe for Systems, IRLs, fiction/otherkins, therians, and other fictotypes. It’s stated in the rules that TUPPERBOX AND PLURAL IS NOT INTENDED FOR RP.

There are more roleplay creepypasta / slenderverse servers out there then just general discussion/hang out ones. I promise if you want to find a RP server to use TB in there are plenty out there. So sorry that MY SERVER RULES state that u can’t rp in there and can’t use either bots for roleplay intentions, esp tupper. Plural is SYSTEMS ONLY.

—

No one was targeting this person for being autistic or an adult. The person they got in a debate/fight w was not a mod either and both parties had gotten in trouble as far as I’m concerned. The person in these screenshots had left my server on their own account and me as the owner and other mods hadnt reacted badly or criticized them for their paragraph. We suggested that next time they pull a ticket like the RULES ELABORATED ON.

Thought everything was dandy and done w. I don’t like drama esp when it leads back to me, until they apparently went straight to tumblr and posted about it, which my mod had came across the post and called them out for before they deleted it.

Not a call-out post. I wanted to clear some air. Please do not go attacking this person or annoying my friend about everything bc I don’t wanna continue dragging on petty drama that shouldn’t have even happened in the first place! My server is inherently not that bad of a place. It’s less toxic and more safe than most places. It only gets bad when people start shit up. I have a rule in place stating (quote on quote)

“Please don’t spam chats with media or copypastas!! Besides the established rules; make sure you respect people’s boundaries. Do not bring drama into this server nor start shit up whatsoever!! People who purposely act problematic will be banned. this is especially important in the CONFESSIONS CHANNEL. I don’t want debates or politics in here either :p this is a CRP and slenderverse server for a reason.”

Anyways thnx 2 whoever reads this - esp the people that had seen those posts.

English isn’t my first language. I’m sorry if anything is worded weirdly or my grammar is wrong . . . :D

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 32

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades We're finally here - the last chapter and end of this story. This fic's been a year and a half in the making, and it feels weird that it's finally done and posted. To head off the question I know is coming (because it's already been floated in the discord) - no, there is currently no plan for a sequel. Yes, there is definitely space for it, and if it happens it will be the Revolution~, but I have several other projects at the moment that I want to work on, and honestly writing a full blown revolution fic would be a lot of work and time I don't have right now. So for now at least, assume there won't be one. I'm not making any promises on the next project or when it'll come, but I have several muses clamouring for attention so there should be another longfic out of me at some point... In the meantime, I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 31

APOLLO XXXII

A goodbye for now The future keeps coming, but This tale is over

Hades rolled his eyes.  “You do not need to thank me, nephew,” he said, the familial title sounding almost fond and reminding Apollo yet again of Hades’ words after the Arai.  “I never intended to allow Nico to return to the Pit; it should be I thanking you for preventing it when he had found a way to get around my notice.”

Apollo had no words to say to that, a creeping feeling of awkwardness descending around them.  In the Pit it had been one thing, an alliance for survival against the Pit and everything it tried to throw at them – which had, eventually, been everything or close enough to it that Apollo was still amazed that they had escaped, and thoroughly grateful to Thanatos for choosing to aid them.  Now, there was no adrenaline tying them together, no co-dependence for survival.

They were safe once more, in Hades’ domain where Apollo had less power while his uncle ruled over every daktylos of it, and Apollo was not sure if he was expected to stay and talk, or if he had overstayed his welcome and was required to leave, now that the demigods had departed and Asclepius sentenced.

Silence stretched between them, before Hades broke it with a sigh.  “I did not lie, in the Pit,” he said.  “Your presence is more tolerable than that of your siblings and cousins.”  There was a weighted pause.  “Certainly more tolerable than your father.”

“I don’t think being more tolerable than him is much of an achievement,” Apollo muttered, and Hades let out an amused noise.

“No, it is not,” he said.  “Once, he was fair and just.  Now, he has allowed paranoia to devour any common sense he once had and isolates himself, fearing a knife in the back at every turn.  In truth, he is hardly recognisable from the young god I recall leading us from Mount Othrys, except in his determination.”

Apollo knew the stories, but that had been long before he and Artemis had been conceived so all he knew were the stories, most of which had been told to an infant god by his mother.  Zeus had rarely spoken of it, and Apollo had never been close enough to the other involved gods for them to tell him about it.

“Speaking of your father, and my siblings,” Hades continued, “I was not expecting Poseidon to drag himself from his watery depths, much less to take the side of Bob.  Athena, perhaps I could understand your sister gathering, but Poseidon keeps himself out of reach of Olympus almost as much as I.”

“It wasn’t Artemis.”  That much, Apollo knew, but the sound of his sister’s name provoked a memory of a vision, of two demigods scribbling symbols on a piece of paper.  An awkward, not-quite bubble letter ‘C’ – or rather, he realised, a crescent – squiggly lines stacked above each other in parallel rows, a stick figure that could creatively be called a bird.

At the time, Apollo had been too distracted with the aftermath of the Arai to recognise what the bad iconography had represented, but now he recalled mention of Percy and Annabeth, and the pieces slotted together.

“It was Will and Nico,” he said, meeting his uncle’s eyes as Hades froze.  “Somehow – Nico’s dream-walking – they reached out.  They must have known bringing a titan out wouldn’t go down well and tried to find allies.”

It was a laughable thought – allies amongst the Olympians.  Artemis was unique, his twin and intrinsically tied to him because of it, covering his back when she could manage, but the other gods?  No.

Except, Hades had stood with him, still stood with him, amicable and merciful to the son who offended him more than once, and Zeus had been the one outnumbered in the throne room.  It hadn’t been an alliance – Apollo had allied with three of the gods in there before, to try and talk Zeus into being a little less tyrannical, and that hadn’t been the same at all – but it had been something.

Trust demigods, who had little scope of the dynamic between gods, but an innate knowledge of how powerful friends in the right places could be, to head straight to the heart of the matter and enlist them regardless.  They must have gone through their friends – Percy and Annabeth, for Poseidon and Athena, and Reyna or Thalia to reach Artemis – all demigods who also knew the strength in bonds.

Asclepius had warned them against it, but hadn’t stopped them – enough of a god to know how unlikely it was to work, yet with the memories of a demigod who knew it needed to work.

Hades sighed, clenching a fist in the fabric of his robes.  The souls around his fingers twisted into something even more agonised.  “Foolish children.”

“Very,” Apollo agreed whole-heartedly, “but it worked.”

His uncle scoffed.  “It shouldn’t have done,” he said.  “My son’s irreverence for the gods will get him killed one day, if he is not careful.  It is one thing not to fear me – for all he should.”  Apollo didn’t think for a single moment that Hades was as irritated about his son’s lack of fear as he projected; parents who wanted to inspire fear tended not to put themselves in danger to protect their child.  “It is another to argue with or attempt to manipulate other gods, who would as soon as smite him down as listen.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Apollo could not see how they could convince Nico not to keep doing exactly as he pleased.  It was not as though the son of Hades hadn’t experienced first hand the wrath of a god – Apollo recalled the death of Maria di Angelo all too well, and not just because it had coincided with his uncle cursing his Pythia in his furious grief.

That had been the moment Bianca and Nico had been marked as important, to the future.  Their potential had always been there, but the potential had also been there for them to die in the war, forgotten casualties like so many others of the time period.  Zeus’ attack on Maria had provoked Hades’ defence of the children, squirrelling them away, out of the time stream and safe until it was time to bring them back out to re-join the world.

“In the future, I expect William to attempt to stop my son’s suicidal plans, not enable them,” Hades said, and Apollo gave a shrug.

“I’m sure he’ll do what he can,” he said lightly, well aware that Will’s own stubbornness and strong morals were more likely to have him joining Nico in the chaos, rather than pulling him out of it.  Even when he’d tried to keep Nico out of harms’ way, it had happened anyway.

“See that he does,” Hades grumbled, but Apollo suspected he, too, knew that the demigods were a lost cause.  As long as they were happy, that was the most important thing – although safe and alive were also listed at the top of Apollo’s priority list, and no doubt Hades’ as well.

His uncle stepped past him, as though heading for his throne once again, but paused after a few steps, turning back to face Apollo, who had half thought that he had just been dismissed.

“The prophecy,” he began.  “I find it curious that topaz referenced Koios.”

“I thought you didn’t care for prophecies,” Apollo retorted, defensive almost without thinking – it had been enough of a struggle getting his uncle to comprehend the idea of claiming one, and now Hades wanted to talk about the wording?

Hades hesitated, something that had been unnerving enough in the depths of Tartarus, but now in his own domain just seemed wrong.  “I cannot say that I like them,” he admitted, a truth Apollo had long been aware of, “but I realise now that they exist nonetheless, and will not be gainsaid by my refusal to listen.  I was… rash, when I cursed her.  Your Pythia.  I… should not have done that.”

It took Apollo a moment to realise his uncle was apologising, and another moment for the implications to sink in.  It changed nothing; Cassie’s life had been forfeit and she had been forced to endure long beyond the limits of her mortal life, restricted from death but unable to live.  With the lifting of the curse and the transference of her duties to Rachel, she had finally been allowed to rest, her torment over.

It also, Apollo realised suddenly, was not something he could condemn Hades for.  Perhaps once he would have done, a hypocrite of the highest order or perhaps simply forgetting his own crimes, but thinking now about a young woman cursed by a god for no good reason, Apollo could only remember the Cumaean Sibyl and the grains of sand he had made her life.

He had long waited for Hades to acknowledge what he had done to Cassie, to apologise for it, but now that he had received it, it gave him no satisfaction at all.  The act of his uncle apologising, and apologising to him, was strange enough in its own right, a flicker of warmth within his essence because apologies were not given lightly between gods, but it was cooled unpleasantly because as soon as he received it, it sent a chill through him.

He couldn’t accept it.

“You are not the only god to curse a prophetess in a moment of rage,” he admitted, glancing down at the polished black marble of Hades’ throne room floor before meeting his uncle’s eyes.  Hades looked surprised, as though he hadn’t known about the Sibyl – but perhaps he hadn’t, her name not appearing on Thanatos’ list of souls to be reaped and leaving that crime of Apollo’s unrevealed.  “I cannot condemn you for it when I have done worse.”

Cassie still had a body, when she was finally allowed to pass on.  The Sibyl of Cumae had been nothing but a naked and vulnerable soul, her body long since decayed to nothing while she still endured.  Apollo could not call it living, not in that state.

Hades’ eyes regarded him, surprise flickering in black flames for a few moments before morphing into something else, softer and yet harder at the same time.  “In that case,” he said after several long moments, during which Apollo felt exposed in a way he hadn’t even when his form had been torn to shreds and his essence was the only thing left of him, “let me rephrase.  In cursing your Pythia, I belittled and disrespected you and your domain.  You and she attempted to use Delphi to protect Maria and her children, and when I did not listen, I lashed out at the ones that would have helped me, had I allowed it.  If you will not accept an apology for my treatment of her, then let me instead apologise for the disrespect I gave you then.”

Apollo froze.  He had thought Hades would brush off the attempted apology and continue with whatever it was he had to say about the wording of the one they had claimed, not that he would amend the apology to address what was, in essence, the real offence.

“I still do not like prophecies,” Hades confirmed, “and I do not believe I ever will.  But they are part of the Fates’ designs, a part of your power, and I should not have lashed out.”

If the previous apology had startled Apollo, this one floored him.  His uncle apologising for a single rash action was one thing, but to delve into the heart of the issue and apologise for what was, at its core, disrespecting Apollo?  No, Apollo had never even considered the possibility.

He also knew that he could not brush this one away.

“Thank you,” he said.  There were no other words good enough in the face of Hades’ honesty, no elaborate speeches that would share his gratitude so eloquently.  “That…”  His breath hitched, as he realised just how much it meant, but also that while Hades had been open with him, he hadn’t returned the gesture.  “That means a lot.”

It felt wrong, baring himself, but if Hades could do it in Tartarus, then Apollo owed it to him to at least try.  “I know it’s less competition, but you’ve always been the most tolerable of my father’s siblings.”

Hades’ face went blank.  “Even Hestia?”

Apollo’s heart did an awkward twist at that, remembering her rejection of his advances.  In hindsight, it had been the correct decision, for both of them, but at the time…  Apollo had respected it, but he hadn’t been used to rejection.  Not when he was the young, handsome god everyone was falling over to be near, let alone with.

“You have never rejected my presence,” he settled on.  It must have been good enough, because Hades did not press further.  “Then, you protected me, in the Pit.”

“We protected each other,” Hades said, his face still unreadable.  Apollo hoped he hadn’t just overstepped, hadn’t just ruined everything he thought they’d created in Tartarus.  “It has been a long time since anyone trusted me like you did.”

The corner of Apollo’s lip quirked up humourlessly.  “It’s been a long time since anyone stood between me and Father.”  He could scarcely believe that he was admitting that, that he was admitting any of his thoughts, but after his uncle had been so open with him – it was the right thing to do.

It also, inexplicably, made his essence feel lighter, like a great weight had just dispersed.  “Thank you.”

Hades nodded, a single tilt of his chin acknowledging his words, but when he spoke it was a change of topic, backtracking to the comment that had sparked their openness.  Apollo followed the subject change eagerly – baring himself, being honest, was unnerving at best, and if Hades didn’t want to leave those words hanging between them awkwardly, then he was more than happy to oblige.

“The prophecy,” his uncle said.  “Topaz was an interesting choice for Koios.”  With a flick of his wrist, a collection of gemstones appeared in his hand, a mixture of fiery oranges and yellows, and faded blues.  “These are all topaz,” he said.  “It comes in a variety of colours, but these are the most common ones, and amongst the common colours, its reputation is for yellows and oranges, not blue.  Yet you and Koios both accepted without question that it was him.”

Apollo gazed at the gemstones, bright and pure in the hands of their god, and could only shrug.  “Prophecies are not set in stone,” he reminded his uncle.  “Topaz certainly referred to Koios” – he’d known that, felt the certainty of an event coming to pass – “but had events resolved differently, there may have been another prisoner of the Pit who better fit the other colouration.”

“You,” Hades said bluntly, not even letting Apollo pause before jumping in.  “If you had gone without me, it would have been you.”

“It could have also been Asclepius,” Apollo corrected, “or anyone who ended up in the Pit and could be conceivably associated with one of the many colours of topaz.”  Like Will and Nico.  “Once a prophecy has come to pass, the other potential interpretations are meaningless.”  Discarded possibilities, like so many of his visions over the millennia, because there were near infinite possibilities but there was only one future that would ever come to pass.

“And it has come to pass?” Hades pressed.

“Yes,” Apollo said simply.  “It has.”

Really, there was no more to be said on the matter.  Prophecies were simple, in hindsight, and this one was no different; he and Hades had ventured to the depths of the prison in Tartarus, and helped Bob and Koios leave – with the help of Thanatos – before he and Artemis had cast Koios back down at the moment their domains overlapped.  It was almost too simplistic to encompass everything else the prophecy had caused, the weeks of impossible-to-track time trudging through Tartarus and suffering everything the Pit chose to throw at them.  None of it had been even referenced in the vaguest terms by the prophecy, and yet without it none of it would have happened.

“In that case, it is time we returned to our duties,” Hades said, turning away once more and continuing his way to his throne, resizing to fit.  Almost instinctively, Apollo grew to match, even though this time he was sure that was the start of a dismissal.  “Thanatos did well, but he is not this realm’s god.  Likewise, the sun felt wrong, without you at the reins.  The gods from the other pantheons are not you, Apollo, and you are irreplaceable.  Do not let anyone, least of all your father, tell you otherwise.”

Ichor rushed around Apollo’s cheeks, and he pushed it down with only the innate force of will and absolute control being a god allowed him – things he had sorely missed as a mortal, when his body had failed him on multiple, often humiliating, occasions.

“So are you,” he replied, reaching for the sunlight high above them, in the Overworld.  “See you later, dear uncle.”

“One last thing, nephew,” Hades said, and he paused, casting his gaze up at the god sat on his throne as the address registered.  “Next time you need help, just ask.”  There was no if, just a simple when, and Apollo wasn’t sure what to think about that when he was the god of prophecy and had no inkling of when he might need it, but the look on his uncle’s face was intent.  “You know where to find me.”

It was a promise, Apollo realised, briefly losing his grip on the light high above in surprise.  A promise of aid, when he needed it – something he hadn’t had in millennia.

“I- thank you,” he breathed, before finding enough presence of mind to say, “the same goes for you, uncle.”  Hades rolled his eyes.

“If I need your help, I will call,” he said, but despite the eye-roll the tone wasn’t dismissive; rather, it was serious enough that Apollo could feel that he meant it.  “Now, go.”

That was a dismissal, with no room for misunderstanding, but it wasn’t harsh, and Apollo gave his uncle a grin and a wave before latching onto the warmth of the sun and dissolving into light.

The sun was only just risen, a new dawn to mark a new day, but it was late enough that Apollo had once again missed the timing for the chariot.  Tomorrow, then, he would take the reins again, although he was well aware that his horses required a lot of bribing and grovelling before then for disappearing on them again, despite the fact he had warned them this time.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he had almost an entire day to spare.  Part of him immediately flickered away to Helios’ old palace in a near-repeat of when he’d re-ascended as a god – sure enough, Hermes had piled up all the subscriptions and repeating orders he hadn’t cancelled across the door again, and once Apollo got past it to enter the stables, the greeting he found himself on the receiving end of was very similar, complete with hooves in delicate areas.

Most of him, however, had only one destination in mind, and it was barely a thought to reappear at the edge of Camp Half-Blood, watching the demigods stir as their new day began.  His children were all up and about already – Will was curled up in a suntrap near the porch of cabin seven, the unmistakable shadow of Nico tucked away outside of the sun’s rays but with his boyfriend nonetheless.

Will looked much better under the light of the morning sun, even if it was a sun that wasn’t Apollo’s.  Tomorrow, when he took to the skies once again, he would ensure a boost to his son – it was the least he could do, after being the reason he had been trapped in the Underworld for so long.

“I hear you and the old man below stirred up some drama,” a voice drawled from behind him.  Apollo had sensed Dionysus’ arrival and refused to give him the satisfaction of being startled when he began to speak.  Dionysus had gained enough blackmail material to last him millennia simply from Apollo’s second, brief visit to camp on his and Meg’s way to Nero and their fake surrender.  He did not need any more.  “A titan rescued from the Pit, wasn’t it?”

“Bob,” Apollo confirmed, still watching the demigods as Kayla prodded Will incessantly until he stood up – bringing Nico with him – and meandered his way to the breakfast table.  That appeared to be a cue for the others to swarm their brother and Nico, and Apollo was abruptly reminded that as far as the rest of the camp were considered, Will and Nico had simply disappeared for two months without a trace.  No wonder they were delighted to see them back, and in one piece at that.  “Formerly known as Iapetus.”

Dionysus snorted.  “I bet Father loved that,” he commented.

“Not particularly,” Apollo replied.  “The Fates intervened.”

That got the full attention of his younger brother.  Apollo felt the burning violet flames of his eyes boring into the back of his head.  “The Fates?”

“‘Bob will aid Olympus in her time of need’,” he quoted.  “‘Because Olympus aided him’.”

That prompted another snort from the other god.  “Father definitely loved that.  I almost wish I’d been there to see his face.  Where is Bob now?”

“Reuniting with Percy and Annabeth,” Apollo told him.  “New Rome probably received rather a shock when he arrived with his chaperone goddess.”  He suspected it would have been Athena who went with him on that particular errand, given that it concerned her daughter.  Apollo certainly would have gone himself in her position.

Dionysus flapped a hand dismissively, clearly uncaring about New Rome’s potential collective heart attack.  “So, what happens now, brother?” he asked.  “Do we just continue in this boring dirge of an existence, ignoring the titan’s presence outside of the Pit, until something exciting enough to change things occurs?”

“Life isn’t boring,” Apollo corrected.  “Did we not already establish that you will continue making wine out of the sour grapes deposited in your way?  But as for me – Will demanded I drop by, and he seems awake enough now, so if you don’t mind-”

“One last question,” Dionysus said, the lazy drawl of his voice disappearing to be replaced with something dangerous.  “The voice summoning Nico.  I trust there will be no more noises dragging my patient into situations that worsen his mental health?”

Alcyoneus sprang to mind, jewels and rocks combined as he sent out a cry that had sounded all too much like help me despite an eternal grin on his face, luring Nico down simply to get to Hades.  Apollo also recalled the way his and Hades’ essences had intermingled, furious and deadly even to a giant.

“The voice will not call him again,” he said confidently.  “Hades and I made sure of it.”

“Good.”  The single word was vehement enough it almost made Dionysus sound personally invested in the situation.   Apollo almost called him out on it, but movement from the pavilion drew his eye back to Will.

Will, who was looking directly at him and pointing a firm finger at the stone table cabin seven used as their own.  Apollo wasn’t sure how his son had noticed him, but he was not about to ignore such a blatant summons.

The rest of the table were beckoning him over as well, a total of eleven demigods including one son of Hades, and Apollo homed in on them like a fly to honey, slipping onto the bench next to Will, Austin on his other side.

“Is it over?” Will demanded, skipping greetings in favour of jumping straight into the grilling.  None of his siblings looked surprised at the question, and Apollo assumed they’d all dragged the story out of Will the moment he and Nico had reappeared in camp.

Apollo smiled at him, and looped an arm around his shoulders.  Instantly, his son nestled against him, and Apollo got a sense of tiredness.  Of course, he and Nico had lost all semblance of a sleep schedule in the Underworld for so long, so far away from the movement of the sun and the moon.  Arriving back in the middle of the night must have been a shock to their systems.

Was it over?  Was anything ever, really, over, when the future kept marching forwards, adjusting to the tune of millions of small, individually inconsequential decisions with every new weave from the Fates’ loom?

But Will wasn’t asking about the universe.  He was asking about Tartarus, about the voice calling his boyfriend, about the prophecy issued to him – but also to Apollo – and the titan that had clawed his way back out of the Pit and had no intentions of ever returning.

According to those, the answer was simple.  “Yes,” Apollo promised, pressing a light kiss to blond waves.  “It’s over.”

End.

[crescent-dreams]

Creator's Corner - Mitsje

Let's start off easy - how did you become a fan of the Inuyasha fandom?

This goes way back, but I actually was first introduced to the series via Quizilla. It's not online anymore, but it was, and I quote wiki: 'an online community featuring user-generated content, including a lot of writing from teen authors. It was primarily intended to host user-made quizzes (e.g. "What Hogwarts house do you belong in?"), but also played host to a large cohort of fans writing quiz fic and reader inserts.'

This was how I first encountered Sesshoumaru and the rest of the gang, in a shameless SessxReader type of deal. I went on to read the manga and haphazardly following the anime,  found out about FF.net, went on to find Dokuga, and well, the rest is history, I guess. 

Art or Fanfic - which work of yours are you most proud of?

I'm actually most proud of 'Call of the Void', because it is so far the only fic that has sprung from my imgination in its entirety, save for the canon, of course. All the others have been inspired by other media, albeit some more obvious than others.

Is there anything you don't like to draw?

Hands and feet, but mostly because it just sucks. If you'd have asked me a few months ago, I'd have said nudity, but well, I'm past that, LOL.

What are your favourite fanfic tropes to write?

Pining and happy endings are up there, but I also like subverting some tropes, putting our intrepid duo in a room with only one bed and then casually having Sess leave, for example. 

You're in a creative mood - how do you decide whether to write or to draw?

Oooh, that's a good question. I think it depends mostly on whether or not I think I'm able to draw the picture in my head easily. If I can't quickly work out the composition, or if it's more than a few frames that spring up, I'd sooner write it out. 

Where do you find inspiration?

After all these years of shipping these two, whether in my head or actively in writing/drawing, I've become adept at seeing them in just about any pairing in other media that comes close to their characters, so basically everywhere. But, most recently (and smuttily), the Gilden Sapphire discord server, of course. 

If you could spend one day in the feudal era, what would you do?

Lounge around in the first hot spring I can stumble into and wait around to fulfill that SessxReader story that got me into this fandom in the first place. 

Describe your dream project.

If I had the time, perserverance, sufficient concentration and patience, I would love to make a doujinshi someday. As it is, I--hey look, a squirrel!

If you could get the power/skill of one Inuyasha character, what would you choose?

It's a toss up between travelling in an orb of light and super speed. The latter would make household chores so much faster, but the former would allow me to pop over to Japan for lunch, so.... yeah, travelling in an orb of light it is.

You can find @mitsiepitsie-blog on Tumblr, Ao3, Dokuga, FFnet, and DeviantArt! And please check out our Creator’s Corner Masterlist for all our past creators!

[galactic-pirates]

2022: Fandom Year in Review

So this year was a ride due to moving. Let's see what I actually did :)

Fanfics written/posted: 4 Fanfics started: More than 4 haha Fandoms written in: 4 Number of fanfic words written: 134,636 Fanart completed: 2 Gifsets posted: 27

Most Popular Fic = Dancing on Broken Glass (with a whopping 44 more kudos than the next closest fic)

Most Popular Gifset = - How it started vs how it's going (Star Trek: Picard, Seven/Raffi) - 340 notes, 34 more than the next highest which was also Trek :)

Most Popular Fanart = Winter Advent 22 (Amanda Tapping, Stargate and Sanctuary mixed media) - 59 notes, so a 54 note difference

Links and rambling on everything under the cut :)

Intentions vs Result - I started the year intending to do 'fandom friday' (aka a gifset every friday) and I missed a couple of weeks around April and then I just quit completely and haven't made a gifset since May. I got tired, I got busy, I moved house and the year disappeared. I did get a fair few sets done though and I feel like I got a lot of my system (even if I still have ideas for sets on my list).

- Mid-April I declared my intention to quit fanfic and I said "my mission if I choose to accept it" was to spend the rest of the year writing every idea on my list. However, due to the aforementioned moving house I fell off the writing wagon completely thanks to the stress. Then once I had moved house that felt like a clean break and so I just decided to stop with the fanfic. I have WIPs on my HD but I had posted all my current fic, so it's not like I left anything exactly, but I am still sad. All those ideas that I love that will now never become reality.

- Art is my old nemesis. As always I wanted to do so much more but with the whole moving thing, I am probably lucky I did anything. I am intending to do a LOT more next year so cross fingers on that.

2022 Fanfic - Dancing on Broken Glass (2,266 words, Star Trek: Picard Seven/Raffi) aka the 'oh no' fic because oops I entered another fandom. I just reached this episode and I hit peak shipper level and just had to go for it. It wouldn't leave me alone. I have feelings about these two. Even though I haven't created much for them due to life, they live rent free in my head.

- Odyssey: Future's Legacy (84,274 words, Sanctuary/Warehouse 13 crossover) I have to be honest this was the fic that made me question what I was doing with my life. 84k - that's a novel. Now don't get me wrong I am a huge supporter of fanfic. It has kept me sane, it has kept me writing, it has given me so much. But I have dreams and sort of realised that I wouldn't get to the life I wanted to live writing fics like this - however much I genuinely enjoyed writing it. Crossovers are basically self-indulgent. I am my own reader and yeah it was fun :)

- We Belong to the Future (4,837 words, The Librarians) Written for prompt month. I intended to do so much more but this was middle of house buying, and I basically shutdown from the stress. This was the only fic/thing I did for prompt month this year. I am sad about that, especially because this fic is unbearably sad. I made myself cry. Clearly I was in a morose mood, I apologise.

- Time Will Tell (43,259 words, Sanctuary James/John/Helen) aka the Soulmate AU. I didn't know this would be my last fic with them, I have so many more ideas. Still I do like this one, I even indulged myself with an epilogue of the changed future. I do like my happy endings :)

2022 Fanart - Dancing in a Galaxy of their own Seven and Raffi, Star Trek: Picard. I guess this could be a companion to the fic I wrote as it's basically the same scene. I will be forever bitter that Seven and Raffi didn't dance at the gala in season two - so I made it happen in fic and in art. This is a digital drawing and it's terrible but it was driven by passion for the ship. I just had to make it exist. - Winter Advent 22 The Amanda Tapping discord server did a "12 days of Advent fan-mas" kind of thing and I signed up for the 21st. This was my entry. Total mixed media project. Done primarily with watercolour and regular coloured pencils but a few markers were thrown in here and there. I'm moving over to traditional art thanks to the whole depressing AI art thing. I've been trying to get better at drawing for years and now a computer comes along and does it 10x better than me and in an instant? Maybe with a pencil I will remain relevant for a little while longer - I hope. Anyway, it's not great but I tried.

2022 Gifsets 300 Notes Club - How it started vs how it's going (Star Trek: Picard, Seven/Raffi) 340 - You owe me a ship Picard (Star Trek: Picard, Seven & Picard) 306 200 Notes Club - I'm here, it's alright (Star Trek: Picard, Seven, Elnor & Raffi) 258 - AU in which HG Wells catches John instead of Helen (Sanctuary/Warehouse 13 crossover) 219

100 Notes Club - Have you ever been in love? (Warehouse 13, Bering and Wells exchange) 158 - Female Power, Helen Magnus (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day One) 150 - What is stronger than the human heart? (Sanctuary, Helen Magnus) 146 - Who tells your story? (Sanctuary, The Five) 102

50 Notes Club - The world should have protected you (Sanctuary, Helen Magnus) 71 - There are no happy endings (Sanctuary OT3) 68 - Can we keep our bearing straight? (Sanctuary, The Five) 66 - Abnormals (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day One) 62 - Let me die the moment my love dies (Sanctuary OT3) 62 - I'm sensing a pattern (Sanctuary OT3) 62 - The last time (Sanctuary OT3) 56 - Matching jackets (Sanctuary, John/Helen) 55 - Touch, OT3 (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day Two) 50

And the rest - That's my OT3 (Sanctuary OT3) 45 - The real favourite is all five (Sanctuary, Nikola Tesla) 43 - Universe fights (Sanctuary OT3) 42 - The family Magnus (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day Four) 41 - Have you ever been in love? (Sanctuary OT3) 39 - Good looks, Nikola Tesla (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day Three) 38 - Galaxies Collide (Sanctuary OT3) 31 - Monster, John Druitt (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day One) 27 - The ones you love the most (Sanctuary, John/Helen) 19 - Everyday Superhero (Sanctuary Appreciation Week, Day Seven) 18

[canpandaspvp]

I forgot, your other thing, bro people who've been dteam from the start or for a while, they don't know the horrors. Idk about your experience, but for me, like, I had an old twt account and as a writer I mainly followed writers but also just some stan accounts

But I liked having dteam stuff show up on my dash, but they're also vicious over there and I didn't want to risk someone seeing "__liked a dteam tweet" so what I would do, is I would see a dteam tweet, and make sure to interact with it, click on it, read some replies maybe open up the qrts and then not like it, all to try and let the algorithm know, hey I like this keep giving it to me without leaving any actual marker that I was there

And having to just keep my mouth shut when I saw people trashing Dream. In discord servers I would only mention him if anyone brought him up first, all my dnf bookmarks were private on ao3. I was stealth supreme lmao

Kinda sad looking back on it, especially cause now I just liberally say, ooh look Tommy's doing this isn't it great, guys Tommy's so funny etc etc

Also, this might be a hot take, but low-key dnis are kinda useless. Like, people like us who duel-wield creators like tommy and dream, I can understand like dni if you dislike someone I like (which I've noticed is a way more common way to do dnis on this side which is an interesting trend)

But on the other side they're like, dni if you enjoy xyz

I followed so many accounts that said dni if you like Dream. So many. But they would've never found out that I liked Dream, none of my socials had it, not one mention of it in my fics

Just an interesting like note lmao

STOPPP I HATE THAT ITS SUCH A SHARED EXPERIENCE :(( i literally did the same "coaxing the algorithm w/o actually liking" thing bc i was so scared of ppl judging me and like. that should've been my sign to gtfo but it's hard when it used to be an otherwise (mostly) enjoyable community. and i also had to be a fake dranti for a hot sec (and in public i keep my mouth SHUT) bc it is terrifying out there 😭

it's srsly so nice to like a creator outside of a subfandom and not have to deal w extreme neg and vitriol !!!

and do not get me started on dni's cause i find them so hilariously stupid sometimes 💀 they work but not in the way that they're intended to work yk?? i tend to use them as more of a blocklist than anything. and ppl who have "dni if you like xyz" in their bios are so funny cause like. how the FUCK are you gonna know and police that if they just don't say it Out Loud???? it really serves as more of a denouncement than anything but then WHY USE THE TERM DNI??

i could keep going but i will refrain, partially because my thumbs hurt and also bc it's too late (early?? idk it's like 1:30) for me to get so heated over dni's

[sevyspams]

i would’ve stayed on my knees, and i am damn sure i never would’ve danced with that devil.

The members of the family stood with splendor matching their last name in exquisiteness. Like the matriarch Raiden Ei, they are all resolute and forthright. In the presence of a second harbinger, Dottore, she stood by their side.

A homewrecker, the man who sought to tear this impenetrable family apart. The man, who was so keen to try new things, also tested what would happen if he divided up this family. A family started by a puppet as well.

‘What a blessing it would be to have a family of one's own—a loving family like this.’ "Take my Electro Gnosis with you," Seree remained at the back of the group. Ei shoved her aside. She stayed holding the Dendro, Electro, and Anemo Gnosis close to her. "Get the other four.”

“Where shall I go?” she asked, her hazy eyes gazing up at the Archon with a gaping posture. The Archon did not respond as she turned away from her and returned to tend to her family. The puppet was left there by herself, her head bowed. ‘Ah. I only need the Gnoses. Nothing more.’

Inwardly nodding, Seree drew the three Gnosis closer to her bruised and frail frame. Her eyes were shut in suffering as she painstakingly limped away from the scene of the turmoil, leaving the area where the chaos occurred.

But after taking a false turn, she staggered and dropped the three Gnosis in front of her. Her eyes widened as she crawled to approach the formidable, deadly relics of this realm. She drew the three of them closer to her as she curled up next to a waterbank.

Due to the Gnoses' adverse effects, her hands became crisp and pallid. It was trembling from the pain and the cold. Her grayish-charcoal hands were scarred with writhing, bleeding, withered, scorched, and further lesions. The synthetic skin covering it is hardly visible.

The Puppet was already exhausted, beaten, and damaged, but it seemed as though her body was designed to move. She was never intended to stop, so the only thing she could do was keep going without turning around.

Seree took a quick look at the glowing objects in her palms. Her lungs produced a brief but sharp cough as she wiped away the blood that it carried. The Puppet knew immediately that the end was imminent. She shouldn't let the world's material possessions and emotive entities limit her.

She wouldn't even remain long in this place. All she could do was return to her feet and focus on finding the other Gnosis. “Right. I shouldn’t stop.”

Because she will only be able to stop once she is dead.

disclaimers; this was inspired by a roleplay me and my moots did at our discord server. so if the lore doesn't align with the original genshin lore—it's because it really isn't the genshin lore.

[lupineleigh]

I’ve been ghosted so many times in real life by family and friends, I barely question it online. It is uncomfortable talking to in a discord server alone for months only to realize nobody is there. It’s painful sending instant messages and never having them answered.

I know people move on to different interests and that real life takes time and energy away from online friends. I have left without leaving a message because I had intended on coming back and by the time I realized how much time had passed, I saw I was not missed, my absence was not questioned, and I no longer felt like I could say I was still around.

I’ve had days where I was too depressed and sick to even say Hi to friends. All I could do was silently wish my life away.

But I do go back and I do post in my profiles when my interests change and how I’m doing. I do not let my profiles sit unacknowledged forever.

I am too connected with my Alias to drop it, so I will not use different usernames on different sites, unless I have already used it and can’t log back in, or I had a different purpose, like my former rp now general everything account on Tumblr.

If all my accounts go silent for more than four months, then I likely am no longer able to communicate to my friends. I hope they will know what happened to me, and not be left worrying and wondering indefinitely. I only have one I talk to every day anyway. I hope my friends know I love them, and that I still think about all of them and the time we shared together, even if it was just friendly greetings or discussing character head canons. I have grown so much because of my friends. I hope my passage of time here will be remembered with equal fondness.

I am also grateful that my friendship meant so much to one of my online friends that she told her real life friends and family about me, so when she left this world, they took the time to find me and contact me. It gutted me, but it was good to know. I had been worried about her. I still think about her family and friends. I wonder how much of her is still around that I will never know about. I backed up our online chats and all of our rps and ideas and her art, and I’m glad I did because the instant messenger we used is no longer available. Neither is the forum we rped on. All that is left of our one year friendship is what is posted online. But because it’s there, I can relive the fun and memories we made together. I can cry with other people who remember her and miss her. I have closure. I have never had closure with anyone else in my life. I am super grateful. That one year is still in my heart, over a decade later, and my current friends love the characters we created together. Our friendship lives on.

Shout out to all your internet friends who are gone.

Those messenger screen names that haven’t logged on in ages, some before detailed profiles were a thing on those services.

Those emails that are long since abandoned, some with domains that no longer exist.

Those online friends you knew years ago and who then helped shaped you in some way, who you just can’t FIND anymore.

Those people who once were, and hopefully still exist IRL, that seem to have no known internet life anymore.

And those who have actually passed on, and their online lives are now a memorial to them.

I miss you all. I hope life is/was kind to you, and maybe one day, we’ll somehow connect again.

[piplup335]

Contest submission #1! (Murder Party, Roblox)

so essentially this is just some shit i wrote sometime in late 2022 for a contest that was going on in the Murder Party discord server didn't win that one LMAO but ima post my submission here to feed the small amount of Murder Party enjoyers out there enjoy!

-

The neon lights that illuminated the city at night made the streets a sight that one would see as a dark, futuristic dystopia. But the bustling activity, families carrying bags and bags filled with purchases of the day and the lively atmosphere was a mask. A mask, to hide the true nature of the dark, futuristic dystopia and what actually happened in the dark alleys, where not many individuals would set foot in. Dark alleys, where a multitude of crimes would take place. Drug dealings and human trafficking only just scratched the surface of all the evil present in this seemingly flourishing city.

Criminals all seemed to have one thing in common. They were all desperate. Desperate to survive, desperate for a better life, one in which they could be like those  shoppers enthusiastically going from mall to mall, coming out with shopping bags filled with shoes, accessories, items which these syndicates could only dream of owning.

But what about more affluent individuals? What objective did these people have in this vast world of crime?

Did they want fame?

Did they crave even more money than they already had?

Or perhaps...something beyond our capacity of comprehension?

In his mansion, a man paced around. He donned a red suit, a shade of red just like the blood of his victims. Twirling his knife in his hand, he turned around to face his soon-to-be victim. Another innocent soul who, judging by her tattered clothes and disheveled hair, was homeless, and broke into the mansion for shelter.

"You've come to the wrong place for refuge, my dear."

The pitiful individual tried to run, but to no avail. With blinding speed, the man lunged towards her, pinning her towards the wall with his knife to her throat."Answer this truthfully, and maybe I'll let you leave. Maybe in one piece, but no promises, dear."The man stared into the poor woman's eyes. "Hm," he said, upon seeing her anxious expression, "guess I'll take that as a yes."

Disregarding the sobbing woman in front of him, he asked: "There's a sheriff in Lakeside Town, the one running the farm. Know anything about her?" Upon seeing her shake her head with tears streaming down her cheeks, the man sighed.

"I see. Well, I have no use for you now. Say goodbye!"

The woman was in shock. The man drew his hand back and stabbed her in the stomach. As she breathed her last, she realised that the man never intended to keep her alive to begin with. To him, she was a victim, another life taken to add to his kill count. She was something else for him to toy around with, giving her false hope so that she would comply with his demands.

This man was not like those typical rich, stuck up men that lived in the city. No, he would lie low during the day, not letting his wealth draw attention to himself. It wasn't even his wealth. It was the fortunes of all his past victims. This man...was a murderer.

"Well, another job done...and still no information about the Sheriff..." Walking towards the fireplace, he took a piece of tissue paper and cleaned the blood off his knife. "I'll clear the body myself later, but for now..." The Murderer looked at the photograph which was on the coffee table. It was in a polished brass frame, and he cherished this photo dearly. It was taken near a lake, one he'd always play near with his friends when they were younger. In the photograph was four people.

A boy with green coloured hair and a lime green hoodie holding a laptop, who later went on to become a hacker. A girl with bright pink hair holding a party hat, who loved tea parties and decided to spend her days planning parties for them. A boy with a black mask that slightly resembled a beak. The Murderer slightly chuckled at the sight of his younger self. And last, a girl, whose most noticeable feature was her dark curls, covered by a hat. The hat of a sheriff.

Looking back fondly at the old memory, the Murderer smiled. "Oh, this Sheriff...it's been years, but..." "...I'm still waiting for your RSVP."

-

aaaaand that's submission #1! expect a few more random stories today lol

[omamervt]

It's weird to me to see people talk about like, why Social Media X is the best place for Y because it has Z tools and that's why we all ended up there and not taking a moment to acknowledge that the phenomenon of people going there for Y predates Tool Z. Like, every time if you look into it. Twitter didn't become the de facto app because of its discovery, it became the de facto because Facebook did the Pivot to Video scam and then tanked engagement on any page that wasn't willing to pay for it. Its discovery features were almost entirely based on hashtags up until around the same time as the Facebook stuff, Likes weren't advertised on the timeline until AFTER I rejoined the site in 2017. Most of the stuff people "depended" on Twitter for were added after the site was already being used that way, or was a result of a feature added to change how existing users were using the site in the first place to try and make it more appealing to new ones. The site started out as one where you'd register your phone and then send a text message to a number you were given and it'd get posted as a Tweet, the site was just for viewing others' tweets. Now that feature was removed because nearly everyone has a smartphone and can download the app.

Even Tumblr, you look at the culture that's prevailed on this site since its inception, the good and the bad, and every single tool that supports that use style was added long after the site was being used that way. Reblogs were being used to make collaborative posts back when it made posts into an impossible to follow mess. It became a hub for art blogs back when there weren't nearly as many posting options. Most of the incredible embedding tools were apparently added after the porn ban and ensuing exodus (I wouldn't know, I barely ever used the site in the before times, my experience was largely in screenshots).

This one makes me sad, but Discord was built as a lightweight chat room for gaming groups, but it eventually grew to do everything Slack does but better, and more, and then it started replacing actual forums and wikis. And when Discord saw it was being used that way, they started adding threaded posts. They've even copied the chat bar for video calls to mimic Zoom. Frankly it's become a bloated mess as a result of all the new groups it constantly tries to appeal to, but something made them think they could pull Slack's clients, then Forums', then Zoom's, and it was observed use cases. People were already using it like Slack because it had a relatively similar setup with different rooms and roles, but allowed Users to create one profile for every server they joined and gave them more privacy on and off that server, so they started making it more like Slack. People didn't intend to do forum stuff on Discord, but people realized it was a good way to directly engage their audience, even if it did require them to be a bit more involved, so they added threaded conversations. It was already a competitor to zoom the moment they added free voice calls with no time limit, and there was only one thing zoom could do that it couldn't, so they added the call chat to servers.

The point is, I see a lot of people hesitant to leave Twitter because "no other site lets them do what Twitter does in the same way" even though the way it's being run, more things stop working every week and it's a matter of time before there's an outage that the site can't fix, or a security breach it can't cover for, or one of the million points of liability Musk has created for it causes the site to go down. Some of them just... don't have a backup plan for that. Tumblr, or Instagram (ok probably not instagram), or Cohost, or Reddit, or... idk what was that one mobile-only site that barely works? Hive? Could begin working to accommodate how they see groups of users like you using their site, but you have to be there and starting to use it like that. And I don't know why I'm saying this on Tumblr, because I'll bet anyone who's following me came here for a Twitter backup plan like I did. Probably because it'd take too much effort to thread this. But anyway. I think about this kind of stuff from time to time.