#so reading this collection helped me understand how much more depth these characters have and the themes that are so integral—

[ayaboba]

DAY 7: A LITTLE SOMETHING ❅⋆⍋

summary: they can get a little overboard with gifts, especially for you.

characters: ayato, kaeya, wanderer, zhongli.

notes: gn! reader, last sentence in ayato’s is suggestive, wc: 120-200 per paragraph.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

ayato

If faced with the prospects of going on a little rendezvous to a market or enduring a lengthy cooking class with Ayato, you’d gladly risk the guarantee of waking up with an upset stomach.

At first, the answer to the choices seem almost obvious, you don’t even need to think twice before coming to a conclusion. Why would anyone face the risk of food poisoning in comparison to a harmless shopping trip?

You sincerely, from the bottom of your heart, are thankful and cherish every single one of the gifts Ayato never failed to starve you of, selected with the most detailed and precise of observations and preferences. Your workspaces are graced with the most refreshing pieces of decor, your bewitching collection of accessories is always the most elegant and entrancing, and your wardrobe, perhaps the most elaborative and extensive out of all, owns the most divine pieces of fabrics and fibres too substantial to comprehend.

Frankly, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise when you tell Ayato to lower his budget, which, as he strongly believes, is a sacrifice towards his serotonin. Eventually, through trailing kisses, hasty promises and faltering sighs, you two finally come to an agreement.

kaeya

Kaeya earnestly explains, over and over, that can’t help it, that you should be placing the blame on the sellers for luring him yet again into purchasing. The harsh burden of having a generous soul, he sighs. Can’t you feel an ounce of pity for him? Besides, he truly can’t help that, “there were just so many things that reminded me of you.”

To be brutally honest, Kaeya’s only motive for these ceaseless piles of presents was purely out of self-indulgence. It was quite selfish, yes, but the pleasure didn’t derive from the shopping, it wasn’t to satisfy his spontaneous decision-making when it came to such matters, but rather the gleeful radiance shining from your face whenever he came home with something in hand. How you attempted to reserve yourself and not seem overly excited, and Kaeya delights that he can see right through you.

The only way to understand his strange way of thinking was to picture yourself in his shoes. Would you do the same if it promised such a reaction from Kaeya?

wanderer

Wanderer is the pure embodiment of the phrase, “actions speak louder than words.” Secrecy travels with every move he makes, every action he meticulously plans. It weaves into the reasoning of the most minuscule of tasks when it comes to you; he can’t refrain from it. Striving for perfection entrusts some sort of validation seeping into the ventricles of his heart, before pumping out avid determination, a desire to exceed after each result, one grander and more adoring than the last.

The gifts he pledges aren’t a mere reimbursement for his lack of sweet nothings or public hand-holding, they’re something much more sentimental with enigmatic depth, a beautifully tied bow unravelling cryptic messages that only sweeten as time ticks along. It’s summarised within a few careful judgements, courtesy of his impeccable ability to read your emotions, those gifts are, and will always make your smile a thousand times more genuine than any sugarcoated words or physical affection in the eyes of him and you.

zhongli

Working as a consultant at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor must bestow the blessing of generous income and time.

It’s the only explanation for this growing observation: the handy wallet somehow never running out of mora (though you admit, he can be quite forgetful of it), and the suggested galore of unlimited spare time, which certainly must be the reasoning behind why Zhongli can afford to obtain such bountiful amounts of precious treasures that always leave you breathless.

Quite often, his indulgence results in a slicing feeling of guilt, leaving you in a state of burrowing gloom, overthinking the matter until the idea is reduced to a singular strand of disregard. After all, the little trinkets are simply harmless expressions of love, even if they occasionally overflow your doorway.

[oakbuggy]

Liar, Liar Chapter 2

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 2 (NSFW) ~6.7k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala felt murky and lost, in a place vaguely familiar.

It looked like the ocean, like the one she had marveled at when all the clans came together under multiple leadership, most importantly the Sully family, but it was incredibly dark.

“Tala” A light feminine voice called out within the depths.

“Kiri!” Tala felt like crying, she reached for her but for some reason their fingers wouldn’t touch.

Kiri’s intelligent round eyes that normally glistened petal-yellow now dilated with worry.

“Tala, can you hear me? Where are you?” She couldn’t hear her.

Tala mouthed carefully the location of the scouting party’s attack. “Kol’iluen Hills, Kol’iluen Hills!”

Kiri watched her lips thoughtfully, understanding.

The Tawkami woman paused, should she even say anything about Neteyam? What could she say, when he was so different, so changed?

Kiri noticed her friend’s pained expression and smiled reassuringly. She had to tell her.

“Ne-te-yam--is–a-live”

When the Omaticayan girl’s expression morphed into one of shock and confusion, Tala knew she understood and her expression remained pained. Kiri had a special connection to Eywa, surely she would figure out what happened to him, how to help him. Much more than Tala could.

Suddenly the dream felt freezing and Kiri’s image disappeared before her eyes without a word more.

“Kiri!”

Tala gasped loudly, her body tensed and the firs thing she noticed was how cold she was.

She had been drugged and anesthetized, she had done it to herself before as an experiment but the tawtute recipe left her feeling so much worse upon awakening.

’Hello? Can you hear me? Are you alright?’

Tala surveyed her new home: three dark concrete walls and a cage door with thick bars. On the other side was just a massive hallway lit by stinging light. When she tried getting up, a weight held her down, metallic smooth cuffs secured on each wrist. She grimaced, her ear was sore too.

“Hello?” She whispered, throat dry.

“Here, here.” 

A thin hand waved at her from the corner of the cage, they also wore these cuffs. Tala reached out to brush the owner’s four fingers before holding it. Though strangers, they were both na’vi, and that was comfort enough.

“​​Oel ngati kameie, I am Orlek’an te Yokelk’ita of the Anurai.”

“​​Oel ngati kameie, Orlek’an, I am Li’tala te Eyay Engk’ita of the Tawkami. How long have you been here my sister?”

“I do not know, is it still spring?” 

“No, it’s summer.”

Orlek’an sighed. “I am a craftswoman, I was taken while foraging alone. There were others, but they’ve been moved, vanished, I am the only one who returns here. Are you a warrior, Li’tala?” 

“Please, call me Tala. And barely, I am an alchemist, but the war required more warriors. What do the tawtutes make you do here?”

“Labor, collecting, identifying, crafting which cannot be replicated by their tawtute machines,” Her voice was deep, but so, so weary. Tala sighed, frustrated, then gingerly felt around her right ear, fingers finding a squarish tag, pierced into the skin.

“What is this on my ear, this thing? Do you have one too?”

Orlek’an barked a humorless laugh. “Tags, so vrrteps can tell their false na’vi apart from the real na’vi. They can’t tell the difference.”

Tala continued to inspect herself. She pressed her palms against the scarring on her neck, not quite healed, definitely not treated. There was no ache, it didn’t seem infected, which was the only silver lining. At least a day had passed, maybe two.

She seethed once she remembered Neteyam’s face.

Suddenly the doors to the hall boomed open and loud footsteps charged into the room. A tawtute wearing an exo-pack and a long white coat and a dreamwalker soldier stopped in front of Tala’s cell.

“Finally awake, huh? Get this one.” The dream walker opened the cage door, making both Tala and Orlek’an hiss at the intrusion. The tawtute rolled his eyes. “Just great, fresh meat.” Tala read the name on his ID: L. Hanson. Hanson turned to the dreamwalker.

“I don’t have time for this shit, get her up.”

“You could say please.”

“Please, Patty.” The dreamwalker smirked and approached Tala, who had buried herself in the corner of her cell, pupils tiny and menacing. Patty raised her hands in defense.

“You scratch at me, those bracelets will shock the Eywa out of you if you do. No sudden moves.” She said in stilted na’vi. Cautiously, Tala stood up and nodded.

The cuffs magnetized and forced her arms together with a loud clack. Tala scowled deeper when Patty simply shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get used to it.”

Tala grumbled to herself, she felt even more helpless than before now with her hands trapped together. As she followed the pair outside her cell, she casted a look behind her, able to catch the bright glint of copper eyes. Orlek’an. Tala waved her tail goodbye as the Anurai woman tried to give a comforting smile.

The doors opened with another slam and Tala found herself nearly blinded by the infernally bright vrrtep light fixtures.

“Move along, don’t got all day.” Patty sharply elbowed her back and Tala stumbled forward.

Lab 08. Ventilation Chamber. Electric 7B. The place was so massive and Tala committed the path and signages to memory. It was child’s play, as it was to any young alchemist. The place was crawling most with Recombinant and dreamwalkers, the humans she did glimpse at all wore either exo-packs or white hazmat suits.

After walking down the maze of Bridgehead, they finally came upon a darkened laboratory, Lab 12. Plants and samples were kept bright and encased in clear glass cases. Patty pushed Tala onto a tiny wheeled stool and then took a seat by the door.

“Understand English?” Hanson asked gruffly, also sitting down. He tinkered with his digital pad but Tala’s eyes wandered, there seemed to be only two other tawtute scientists working at opposite corners. Shiny shock batons strapped to their white hazmat suits.

“Hey!” Hanson slammed his fist on the desk but it didn’t shock Tala much. The muted thump was like that of a na’vi child’s tantrum rather than anything of threat.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She said quietly.

“Fucking finally. Don’t wanna deal with this piece of shit translator.” Hanson grumbled to himself and Tala could hear the faint snickers behind her.

Droids came over to the table before Tala. For the next few hours, that’s all she did, she sat and listed out names of plants, herbs, roots, leaves, etc. With how monotonous the work was, sometimes she would pretend not to know words in English just to see Hanson curse and uselessly finagle his translator pad, which was indeed a piece of shit. This brought some entertainment to both her and Patty, and the guard herself seemed content to stay seated by the door.

After hours of what felt even more mundane than weaving, which she unfortunately despised, she was finally allowed to leave after Hanson waved her off like a nuisance.

Patty held her gun securely as she made Tala walk ahead of her. Seeing how the dreamwalker preferred to painfully jab her body whenever they needed to turn, Tala let her mind wander. She thought about the poison affecting Neteyam.

What was the efficacy of her scent? Did it have an active effect that persisted even without close proximity? Or was he just baring with it? How long would it be effective for once she was absent? Did it do more than ‘help with headaches’?

Her head was filled with so many potential hypotheses that her neck was suddenly yanked back to stop her from crashing into someone.

A large recombinant solder stood tall over both women and he turned, a strange glint in his eye. Patty’s back straightened.

“Evening, Private. Done for the day?”

“Yes, Corporal Halloway, sir. Just escorting the newbie back to her cell now.”

Corporal Halloway leered at Tala, his interest was evident and Tala felt goosebumps on her neck. However, a chance was a chance, and there was no reason to only count on Corporal Tom for her survival and eventual escape. Halloway seemed at least he’d be simpler to talk to than the whole paradoxical mess that is Neteyam’s psyche.

He stepped forward and hummed nonchalantly as if he wasn’t already fucking her in his head.

“You take off, Private. I’ll make sure the prisoner gets back, secure and sound.”

Patty saluted and Tala was left alone with the Recom soldier, her arms shifted uncomfortably, sore from having been forced together the entire day. Halloway smelled disgusting and she had to school her expression to keep meek and wide-eyed to not gag.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let ol’Johhny take good care of you.” He said with a smug grin.

Now she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

He led her down different hallways, much emptier than the ones she’s been in before.

It was when Halloway slowed down to grab at her ass that Tala was wondering if this was a good idea. His scent was strangely minty, and he smelled more like the musty tawtute walls of the facility than anything.

“Don’t be shy now. I promise I’ll show you a real good time.” He prodded, squeezing her ass cheek firmly. Tala recoiled but nodded, biting her lip to appear enticed, and hoped he at least knew how to fuck.

She could smell him before she could see him, sunlillies and bark mixed with gunpowder and she grimaced at the unnatural addition. Halloway looked up.

“Yo, Tommy! Training’s already over?” He asked breezily as his fellow corporal stalked towards him, Neteyam’s expression was unreadable as usual.

He nodded and Tala ignored the feeling of his eyes burning into the side of her head.

“That’s right. What’ve you got here?” Corporal Tom asked in an even tone.

“Hmm, just something sweet. Need something to help me sleep like a baby, you know?”

“Hmm.”

Corporal Tom squeezed Tala’s free shoulder, standing opposite of Halloway.

“But I want this particular treat. Been looking forward to it all day. How about you look for something else.” It wasn’t a question.

Neteyam’s gaze was extremely unsettling, eyes barely masking a foul mood and violent intent. Halloway raised his eyebrow at him, confused, and glanced between the two na’vi. After a beat of silence, Halloway raised both hands in peace.

“Alright, since you want it so bad, you can have her. It’s my turn next time though!” Halloway conceded and walked away lazily. Tala felt her spirit and ego droop, that was it? Was she not worthy of even a little bit more reluctance? When the Recom walked out of earshot, she turned to Neteyam quite haughtily.

“Surely you knew you’d have to share, yes?” She said with an unamused look on her face. Neteyam’s cockblocking was going to be a problem in her chances of escape.

Instead of answering, he grabbed Tala by the neck and pushed her into a room on their left, knocking the air out of her lungs as she landed on what seemed to be a bed. Her head hit the wall and she winced, cradling it. The blaring lights didn’t take it any better, it was harsh and the bed was barely even that, extremely stiff. A near claustrophobic, windowless room.

Halloway had intended to bring her to one of the rutting/heat rooms, closed off from the rest of the facility and meant for the growing number of Recombinant na’vi. It was private and soundproof, most used it for more casual purposes than it was designed for.

Tala glared up at Neteyam only to see huge pools of sunlight, his pupils intensely compacted and focused on her. He seemed very territorial for someone who considered her a toy.

She kneeled up quickly on the bed, intrigued.

“Did you really want to keep me to yourself?” She cooed, almost laughing. Tala leaned against Neteyam who stood, hands and face resting on his toned stomach as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Maybe not entirely hopeless.

“Watch yourself. Halloway smells like shit and that defeats the purpose of you.” Neteyam sneered, shoving Tala back. She rolled into a stand and gracefully draped her trapped arms around his head with a coy smile, bewildering Neteyam. He had half a mind to just kick her out of Bridgehead and be done with her, migraines be damned. 

“If you wanted me to be all yours, I prefer being courted with beaded tops and food.” Tala was positively glowing, her smile was full of mirth.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather shoot you.”

She giggled. Neteyam looked at her like she was crazy and his body felt hot, he attributed it to anger from her insolence. He growled as he grabbed at the backs of her legs and landed both of them on the top of the bed. Her linked arms made it impossible for her to move away.

“Hey-!” Tala yelped, the back of her head stung hitting the hard pillow.

Neteyam kissed her hard, sick of her speaking. The kiss had them both opening their mouths wide, fangs clacking, their arousals grinding against each other. The friction made Tala arch her back and moan breathily.

To his intense displeasure that moan just turned into more airy giggling.

“But what about tomorrow, or the day after that? Are you going to see me every day, is that it?” Tala asked mockingly, her tail swishing back and forth cheekily. Neteyam said nothing and smirked.

Tala’s smile dropped and her tail stilled. There was no way this skxawng was serious.

Neteyam scoffed then dove his face over the crook of her neck to inhale more of her spicy-sweet scent. He bit at her neck, right under her jaw, and suckled her skin, she shivered and moaned. 

“I’m not surprised you already need a reminder of what you are.”

Before Tala could process his words, suddenly he was ripping her arms off his head and manhandled her to land on the floor on her ass.

“Ow! You fucking brute, you could’ve-“ She started to curse but froze when quick hands practically ripped off the metal buckles of his tactical harness and zipped down his pants just enough for his heavy cock to hang free.

Tala was glad she was on her knees because they were already feeling weak looking at the size of it.

Thick-vein and ribbed, Tala nearly cursed Eywa for making this particular creation so infuriatingly perfect. His tip was already leaking precum that smelled so unfortunately divine to her nose.

Neteyam’s ego naturally inflated as he watched her practically salivate over his cock, not even fully hard. He smirked as he taunted her. “Be a good girl and maybe I’ll even fuck you with it.”

Her clunt clenched around nothing and Tala could feel her cheeks flush even deeper and she bit her lips shut.

“Open.” He rasped heatedly and with his other hand, he lifted the tip to her lips. She blinked up at him through her long eyelashes and paused. His pupils were already blown wide black, looking more and more like he wanted to devour her whole, and her entire body felt flushed under his concentrated stare.

She let her eyelids drop and held eye contact as her tongue slowly lapped at his tip for a taste.

Salty, his musk was dizzying her. He kept still.

Tala opened her jaw wider to take the in head slowly.

Neteyam yanked her head forward and held onto her with both hands. He let out a long groan feeling her throat spasm and squeeze his length in her panic. His hips started moving slowly, uncaring for how much she was choking on his thick length.

“Fuck…” He breathed out quietly over her muffled whimpers.

Tears beaded on Tala’s eyelashes at the sudden burn in her throat and her hands flew to his clothed thighs, clawing onto them for dear life as Neteyam started fucking her mouth. He leveraged her head in time with his hips, making her nose hit his pelvis each time, ignoring every gag.

Tala tried her best to relax her throat, laying her tongue flat against the underside of his cock, though her adaptability only earned her insults.

“Such a slut. You’re used to this, aren’t you?” He growled tauntingly and pulled out his cock almost all the way before slamming it back into her windpipe. She screamed around his hard cock, the vibrations making him rut while the sound stroked his ego. His eyes were open, enthralled in watching her fall apart and choke, uselessly trying to squirm and push away from him. Precum and drool dribbled from the sides of her swollen lips and Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone.

“You’re a toy, Tala, my toy. And I’ll use my toy whenever I want.” Neteyam chuckled darkly but Tala could barely hear at this point. His cock was bruising her throat, her eyes were watering nonstop and her head was spinning.

His moans and grunts filled the room, he’s not sure how he was able to keep this long without Tala’s mouth. It was tight and wet, and it felt so good to shut her up. Tala worked her tongue to massage the underside, she couldn’t help moaning as she felt every hard ridge of his cock. Her tewng was soaked through even despite the abuse of her mouth. He could smell her so clearly, her arousal made him enjoy her mouth all the more.

“You only exist for me now.” Neteyam muttered with a wicked smile. He then stilled, holding Tala’s head down. Her eyes were darting up at him and his figure, yet he just waited. He waited for her fingers to start trembling and dug into his clothes thighs. Waited for her to try forcing her head back against his grip. Waited for her drool to overflow, her whimpers to get louder and louder, her throat to convulse-

“Do you understand, ma’fil(my toy)?”

Tala nodded desperately.

Neteyam let her head go and she lurched backward, coughing out drool and precum. She gasped and shuddered, tears running down her cheeks and even her tail was too weak to raise itself from the ground. He graciously allowed a few more seconds before he started pulling her head towards him again.

Tala resigned to her current fate, dizzied and hot from him abusing her throat. He liked her like this, so much more compliant. Neteyam loved the way her eyes rolled back every time she gasped for breath and how all that drool was running down her neck, to the floor, and dripping from her tits.

“Good girl… there’s hope for you yet.” He muttered, now his hips adding more force every time she sunk down to his hilt. She moaned a whine, her mouth felt fucking heavenly.

He let out tawtute curses under his breath and kept Tala’s head still, snapping his cock into her mouth in fast strokes. 

Finally, Neteyam let out a long curse and froze, eyes snapped shut as he came in the back of her throat. Tala’s eyes rolled back, she just couldn’t swallow, she couldn’t breathe, and her body was twitching and desperate for air.

When he finally pulled out of her mouth, Tala collapsed forward, coughing and leaking cum from her swollen lips.

There were barely any thoughts in her head, only the taste of his cum and the unsatisfied throbbing of her pussy.

Neteyam tugged her head up by her hair, he wanted to see her face.

Eywa, she looked so wrecked, he could tell she was barely even registering the force of his grip and it made him smirk.

Tala knew what a complete mess she must’ve looked like, she had basically sobbed around that wonderfully–stupidly– ribbed cock. After she regained some sense she looked up begrudgingly, ears ready to hear whatever smug shit was about to spew from that handsome face.

“Good girl. You did your best.” UGH

“Fuck you.” It was harder to speak than she thought it would be.

He chuckled. He pressed some button on his wrist tech and with a drop, Tala’s hands unlinked. She looked down, then looked up, mind still catching up.

“You… could have done that this entire time?”

“What’s the problem? You only used your mouth.”

Tala hissed. She looked down on herself, cum and unholy amount of drool stuck to her skin and made her feel that much more dirty. She empathically placed her hands on both of his thighs to support herself to her feet and then leaned close to his face.

“Well, your toy wants to be clean now, if you don’t mind.” She glowered. Unsatisfied or not, Tala would rather get cleaned than anything at that moment. Neteyam looked down to watch his cum dripping down her neck and tits, decorating her boobs enticingly, his smug smile widened.

“You’ve never looked better.” He smiled as if he had given her a genuine compliment and Tala wanted to suffocate him. Before the Tawkami girl could reach for the pillow, Neteyam suddenly stood up, stepped out of his pants, and tugged off his shirt lazily. He grabbed Tala around her waist and carried her like a sack into the connected bathroom unit. There had to be one when heats or ruts could last days at a time.

“O-Oh! Neteyam, you skxawng!” She struggled, cursing. He sighed. “I’ll drop you.” Tala went limp.

The bathroom was small, more like a wet room with a connected hand-hold faucet. Obviously, Neteyam got to it first, and obviously, he turned it on and struck her with freezing water and he laughed meanly at the scream that came out of her mouth.

“Such a fucking—!” She expeled a long string of na’vi curses that Neteyam didn’t bother to listen to. All of her was wet and cold and Tala flung her wet hair at Neteyam to slap him. He merely chuckled and when the water turned warm, he held the showerhead above his head and pulled her in to let it soak down her too.

“Gotta help clean my toy, yes?” He replied and Tala scoffed. She worked on washing her face and ran her hands along her neck and chest, pawing at her breasts to get that sticky feeling and his smell off of her.

Maybe Neteyam was staring. Maybe he was thinking of pushing her against the wall and having her scream his name out of pleasure this time.

When Tala looked back at him, cheeks still red and lips still swollen, now her hair cascading in soft wet waves, he seriously contemplated having that thought be a reality.

“Your toy is fragile, it’d be a problem for you too if I broke.” She said snarkily, knowing exactly what was going on in his mind. “Your headband, skxawngs.” She lightly pulled the headband off before the fabric got completely soaked. 

Neteyam watched as she gently placed it on a dry ledge, away from the spray, then massaged the area of his mark on her neck.

He supposed he could have been gentler with the bite, with the way it bruised ugly vivid colors and still had hard shells of blood. Tala glanced up at him, his scar visible. He was still handsome even with the scar on his forehead, which was infuriating, but still, it was large, and it looked… as if it was burning inside him.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, both knew what she was referring to. He snorted.

“Do you care?”

“Oh, yes, I enjoy asking about things I don't care about! You act as if I like wasting my own time.” She replied sarcastically.

“You do, you do it all the time.”

Tala screwed up her face and turned away from him with a huff, because maybe he was technically correct, it was a coincidence. She’d rather freeze outside than spend another second with him. He stopped her by just barely ghosting his fingers over her elbow.

“It doesn’t right now.” His voice was low, likely honest. She paused. 

“Let me see.”

Neteyam highly considered not, but right now she was closer to the exit, and therefore his gun, so he relented. He put the showerhead on a hook that let the water run on them both and leaned down with a sigh. Tala gingerly held his face, completely focused on the scar tissue. There was skin trauma, sure, though it was as if injected with something dark, swirling, active. But still, a question picked at her brain.

“Why do you hide it?” The People did not consider scars unseemly, they were proof of their survival. This was too.

Neteyam pulled his face away from her hands.

“Tawtutes stare.”

“Tawtutes always stare.” Tala countered. He raised his brows at her and they stared for a moment in silence. He sighed.

“Some specific scientists stare. I don’t like the look on their faces, they look… pleased with themselves.” Neteyam admitted without looking at her in the eye. He wasn’t completely sure why he was explaining this. Maybe because of that along with headaches, he felt his usual aggressive thoughts… silence. Feeling clearheaded out of battle felt strange after months otherwise.

“Do you remember how you died?” Tala knew it was a sensitive question but they have already established that neither felt like being patient with the other. Neteyam kept still like a statue, eyes challenging her.

“Lo’ak shot me. Right here.” He pointed to his forehead scar.

Tala’s eyes widened, that wasn’t what she was told. He saw her disbelief and his voice turned scornful.

“Of course, he never told you, maybe didn’t tell anyone. Skxawng was returning fire, then hit me instead.” His face twisted in anger, betrayal, and the vitriol in his words made her feel sick.

“That’s… That’s not what I heard. Kiri said-”

“Kiri wasn’t there. I’m sure my Mother finished my songcord with a heroic ending. How could she sing ‘slain by his baby brother’?” He growled, fangs showing his spite. He straightened his back and wiped water from his face in an act to center himself. His eyes became even colder as he stared down at her.

“Besides, Tala, how well do you even know my family? Would you really be able to tell if they’re lying?”

The words stung but it was already where the Tawkami woman’s mind went to. She was closest with Kiri, and for Tuk she didn’t want to pry. Lo’ak only confessed that he hadn’t visited the Tree of Voices even once after a long night of drinking kava. He and Spider both asked for her help with their nightmares and she had concocted strong sleeping droughts for a peaceful sleep, but even once and a while they would still scream themselves awake.

Her tail swung erratically as her mind raced. Only Kiri had told her of their family surrounding Neteyam as he died, bleeding out. Her eyes shifted to the large scar on his chest instead.

It ruled out the headshot, the chest was his death shot, but how involved was Lo’ak? Her stance wavered in the face of Neteyam’s eyes scorching white heat through her own. If her eyes were a forest, Neteyam’s sun was burning it down.

Tala closed her eyes. Regardless, her theory was answered and the details surrounding Neteyam’s death didn’t matter to her, not when she was focused on her survival. This was not her goal.

“So the scientists brought you back. Shouldn’t you be proud of them?” She asked instead. He glowered.

“You and I both know that I shouldn’t be here.”

Tala hummed, neutral. He knew it was wrong for him to be alive, but now that he was he would be fighting for the RDA’s behalf. She smiled, slightly embittered, mostly sad.

“Seems like no one in this war will let you rest.” Neteyam found her words surprisingly sincere. The way her leaf-green eyes seemed actually so upset for his sake though unnerved him, her sentiment made awful feelings swirl in his gut and it twisted him further.

“Must seem like that for the Tawkami’s ‘Sevin Prrnesyul(Pretty flower bud). No one’s expected much from you, have they?” Neteyam’s words were venomous, malicious, and Tala bristled at them. What just happened, how poisoned was he to take her words like that? She pursed her lips, she really shouldn’t lower herself down to his level.

“Says the vrrteps’ amazing experiment. You're a wonderful little trophy for them, aren’t you?” She bit back before thinking and Neteyam glared, his nose twitched.

“Not as much of a trophy as you are. Prison must already be torture for you, you’re so used to just sitting still and smiling, and being fed well for it.”

Tala’s smile became saccharine and she raised to her tiptoes. This asshole-

“Aw, I’m honored the strong and mighty would be-Oloeyketan finds me desirable, it’s truly an honor. I’m sorry, I’m too busy smiling so I won't be able to immediately grovel at your-”

The way Neteyam smirked and puffed up his chest arrogantly made her stop dead. He tilted his head condescendingly. She sensed her mistake.

“Go on, little toy. Finish that sentence.” He taunted. Her face soured.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Tala replied scathingly, returning his smile.

Neteyam cupped her ass tight and it made her let out a high-pitched squeal. She flushed deeply and bit her lips into an ashamed frown and he laughed meanly. He eyed her lips, still red and swollen and he licked his own.

“Yes, do mind the drool.” She quipped and he rolled his eyes. He flicked the shower off and then again manhandled her in his arms and she screamed.

“Stop picking me up!!” Her head swung downwards and she almost thought he was going to drop her on her head and really kill her until she just hovered over his half-hard cock. She could see it twitching to life and she stared.

“You are so-nng~!” Tala moaned weakly when Neteyam licked a flat stripe against her pussy lips, blood was rushing to her head. Neteyam encircled his taut muscles around her waist and proceeded to bury his mouth into her hot cunt, already leaking juices.

Tala grabbed onto his thick thighs for support, only brushing her face closer to his hard cock. Whether or not she sucked it, he found that didn’t care. He just wanted to suck her sensitive flesh and juices, envelop himself in her spicy and sweet perfume and listen to her babble stupidly for his tongue.

Her embarrassment afterward was always an added bonus.

Slick was trickling down her ass and her belly as he feasted, massaging and twisting his tongue inside, sucking at her clit. Her pussy fluttered and spasmed, Tala’s strangled moans bounced against the tiles. She needed something, anything to hold onto-

Neteyam lip’s stuttered a groan when he felt her warm mouth enveloping his cock. He chuckled softly on her sensitive bud, vibrations making her mewl and her thighs twitch around his head.

“Such a good toy f’me.” He husked, then returned to his meal. It was even harder to breathe like this but Tala drooled at how her throat convulsed around his hot shaft. Every time she needed to take a breath her tongue swirled around the fat head of his cock, her fingers bumping against themselves as they massaged every ridge firmly.

The blood was getting to her head and her legs were feeling numb but Neteyam’s tongue only dug deeper and sloppier into the sensitive and gummy walls. 

Tala panted quickly, her thighs started tensing up, she was so close so unbearably close-

Neteyam gave a final suck at her clit and withdrew his mouth from her puffy pussy.

The wholly needy whine that came out of Tala’s mouth was so unrestrained he almost felt bad for her. Almost.

He let Tala down, laying her whole body on the floor, and stared satisfactorily at her trembling body. Tala was not thinking straight otherwise she would’ve stopped herself from backing her ass up against his cock, mewling desperately.

He thumbed at her throbbing pussy languidly with a smile, he found it cute how tightly it was milking his thumb.

“Nete-please!” Tala begged, her pussy aching to be filled, begging for a release.

“I think I’m tired of playing.”

Tala huffed, she knew that was a fucking lie, looking at how rock-hard his cock was. She brought her knees up and reached between her legs, still giving Neteyam a good view.

“Then you can watch.” Tala growled heatedly and plunged her own fingers into her weeping pussy, holding eye contact. Her fingers would be just enough, her other hand furiously rubbing at her clit.

She never broke eye contact, eyelids drooping as she panted and moaned without reservation.

He wasn’t expecting this, it was unmistakably hot and he started pumping his cock in rhythm with her fingers.

They kept moaning as they watched each other writhe in pleasure and finally Tala’s eyes rolled back and she came so hard her body stayed rigid. Neteyam came in time, hot streaks of his cum decorated her ass and back, another pretty picture.

Her thighs trembled and Tala’s body collapsed, her fingers slipping out. They breathed hard for a few moments before she disturbed the short peace.

“Enjoyed the show?” She said weakly, her giggles made Neteyam’s ears twitch.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself more.” He quipped back.

“Mm, just admit you were captivated.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You were impossibly captivated? You just like me so much, don’t you?”

Neteyam voted internally to ignore her as he carelessly cleaned himself, barely helpful to Tala, and threw the already used towel once he was done with it at her face. Her squawk of indignation managed to quirk a smile on his face.

Once both were clothed and dry enough, Tala opened her arms at him, still situated on the bathroom floor. He furrowed his brows up, somehow she always created new ways to confound him.

“I can’t walk.”

Neteyam looked at the mischievous swaying of her tail and growled. He had decided he had had enough of Tala for the day. He didn’t even realize he had already picked up the Tawkami girl over his shoulder and carried her down the halls. Oh, she resisted at first, yelled and struggled, but by the time they reached the prisons she had begrudgingly fallen silent.

The guards stood at attention when they spotted Neteyam.

“Sir, Corporal Tom, sir.” They said, recognizing the prominent Recom soldier instantly. He basically deposited Tala onto one of them.

“At ease. Return this one to their cell.” His voice resumed its usual coldness, but Tala gritted her teeth, she could hear his smug undertone. She was annoyed but unsurprised, a least he carried her

So Tala kept her mouth shut even as the guards shoved her back into her cell, kept it shut as she fumed on the cold floor and slowly fell asleep, and kept it shut until the next time she had to return to inspection.

His ailment confused her and the rupture in his memories worried her even more. But there was nothing she would be able to do for him, he obviously needed someone more attuned to Eywa, a Tsahik, Kiri.

It was not her destiny to save Neteyam, and she doubted he wanted any anyways.

–

A couple of weeks passed with more or less little fanfare. Every few days or so, more samples would arrive in the lab and she’d report in, inspect, and identify and every so often mess around with Hanson and the other tawtutes. It was fun to see his face turn red and the glass of his exo-pack steam up as he sputtered.

She couldn’t exactly swipe any plant materials, but little bits of metal wires, paperclips, and loose scrap metal went by unnoticed. All she gave to Orlek’an to fashion whatever she wished. Tala thought it would be maybe hair trinkets, come to find out instead the Anurai na’vi made darts.

She was only slightly offended she hadn’t seen Neteyam since that day, but neither had she seen any other Recombinant soldier. It didn’t even matter anyways, the RDA dreamwalkers were strangely hesitant approaching her now.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. We’ll call for you again once we gather more samples.” He said simply and Tala acknowledged it with a glance his way. Hanson grumbled and spoke. “Patty, please get her out of here. And call R&D techs, this thing is driving me crazy.” The tawtute waved around the translator and Tala couldn’t stop the slight grin.

“Will do, get some rest Dr. Hanson.” Patty said and Tala slowly stood up from her seat with a sigh.

Her head snapped up. Tala smelled something alarming, txumpaywll root with notes of cinnamon. Innocuous for adult na’vi but paralyzing for a child, and she basically considered a human adult’s immune system to be that of children.

“Stop!” She shouted, her eyes searching wildly for the source. The two tawtutes who were always in the back froze, tongs loosely holding a large pod.

“What are you on-” Hanson tried to shout at her but she gasped. The microseconds dragged as she watched the seed pod slip away from the tongs’ grip and–

It was too late, a plume of sickly green smoke erupted from the beaker, and within seconds the entire room filled with the sleeping gas. Tala covered her nose and mouth, the Tawkami built up their immunity towards drugs like this. She heard Patty coughing and the tawtutes gasping, their exo-packs were not meant to filter this.

She bounded towards the beaker and dumped the solution in the chemical sink, getting rid of the source but the gas was already in their lungs. Tala cursed, her eyes darted for anything, healing roses, fpomron leaves, something fast. Something in the back of Tala’s mind creeped up to the surface, she didn’t need to save any of these tawtutes. They worked to destroy Eywa, not just study it.

Tala looked at the scientists, looking pale and gasping for breath despite their exo-packs and hazmat suits being intact. Patty’s avatar was on the floor, slumbering peacefully. She cursed loudly, Great Mother she was an alchemist not a warrior!

The Tawkami acted quickly, grabbing at plant matter and dried samples from the cabinets. She used the handle end of the stun baton to crush and grind them, creating inhalants. Scooping them in a petri dish Tala swiftly brought it to the two scientists on the floor.

“Smell!” She barked at one before removing their exo-pack slightly, shoving the petri dish to their face. She mimed the action on her own face and the tawtute followed suit, Tala reinstalled the mask and moved to the next one.

By the time the Tawkami got to Hanson, he was already fully unconscious and she expertly puffed the inhalant up his nostrils, used to doing this for ailed children.

The mechanical doors opened and revealed a shorter woman with a blond ponytail wearing an exo-mask and two Recombinant soldiers.

“Stop right there!” She screamed, Tala faltered. Patty? A second after she resecured Hanson’s exo-mask she was kicked off of him by a Recom and she yelped in pain.

When she hit the ground Tala tried to explain but her wrist cuffs activated and a painful crash of lightning coursed through her body.

“Stop…stop!” A scientist from the corner called out and Patty nodded. The cuffs deactivated and the Tawkami’s body was left jerking erratically and stiff on the lab floor.

When she looked up she saw a vaguely familiar face, Corporal Halloway? He smiled and she committed his name to her personal curse list.

Her vision was darkening fast, she could see the tawtute Patty run towards Halloway and yell something, another hazmat-suited scientist started shouting.

As Tala closed her eyes, a whiff of sunlillies tickled her nose. Surely not. Wouldn’t it be just rich for him to arrive and watch her convulse on the floor, he’d probably have difficulty holding in his glee.

She took one last breath before everything became dark. Was that… blood?

Tala hated the smell of blood.

tag list: @xylianasblog @itchaboi-itchyboy @hotdsworld @pandoraslxna @luvv4j4ybe11 @neteyamsyawntu @akoyaxs @whatevenisagrapefruit @teyamsatan @justcaptiannoodles @theblueflower05 @neteluvr @neteyamssyulang @plooto @hao-ming-8 @teyamsilly @vivid-ink

[choochooboss]

Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

[cyvonix]

Cyv Reads Homestuck - Act 5 Act 1 Wrapup

Just finished Act 5 Act 1. Holy FUCK. I actually need a moment to collect my thoughts. Might be a minute. Which is to say, no time at all for you, unless you want to simulate the experience of me writing this by walking away from the screen for a few minutes...

Hey, welcome back. Unless you just kept reading in which case you're ruining the sanctity of this whole thing. Shame on you. Anyway.

Act 5 has been a huge departure for Homestuck in a few different ways, and the biggest reason for all of them is our new focus: the trolls. The trolls and their bizarre world help introduce us to entirely new aspects of the story, and presumably prep us for what is to come in terms of both scale and content. This act is one of extremes, taking further steps toward both sides of the emotional spectrum.

On the one hand, things are sillier than ever. The strange and oddly beautiful world of Alternia, its incomprehensible culture, its boisterous personalities; it's all wonderfully playful in its execution, reveling in the ability to craft a whole new world from scratch, unbound by the expectations of our own reality. The characters we're introduced to, consequently, are equally fun to learn about and be placed in the shoes of. Seriously, all the trolls except Equius are a joy to read, each filling the role of a specific archetype that is simple to understand from the onset, yet developed into fuller personalities as the act progresses. There's practically a particular troll for every kind of person, and I can totally understand how such personal connections were formed from a fandom perspective. These motherfuckers BEG for it.

On the other hand, things have never been more dire, more dramatic, more unsettling. Firstly, in the interpersonal sense. This act struck me as one where, as opposed to the previous acts feeling very much like a story about children, it is explicitly a story about teenagers specifically. There is a much greater emphasis on the confusing and sometimes frustrating experience of existing as an adolescent around your peers, letting the determinant factors in how things progress be friendship, romance, jealousy, rivalry, and all the other angsty feelings you would expect from a cohort of this age range. And despite the alien world and any of the bonkers social rituals or mating practices thrown into the mix, these core emotions still come through as clearly as they would in human children, climaxing in often devastating displays of sadness and revenge.

Outside of mere sociality, the cosmic horror present in the world of Homestuck is also more pronounced than ever. With the formal introduction of characters such as Doc Scratch and Lord English, the stakes are raised even further, leading us to inhabit a world truly eldritch in nature, one where time loops and visions of the future can be ghastly and harrowing. Some are left destined for damnation, as we and they are both left simply waiting to see how their undoing will occur. The idea that many of these characters seem trapped within an inescapable path to their own destruction, that some timelines are preordained to be martyred for the greater good - it's all quite unnerving.

Knowing all of this, I can hardly imagine how it will feel once we refocus on our four main characters. Hussie has opened the flood gates in respect to the depth and seriousness the storytelling is permitted, and with the events of the fourth act providing so many world-changing developments to the kids, I can only imagine that they and this new storyline will converge in the biggest and most revelatory act yet. Because as much as I've praised this act, it admittedly did feel mostly like setup; the careful placing of pieces and recitation of instructions before they are all catapulted into something greater. For this, I couldn't be more excited. Once again, thanks if you read all of this, I appreciate it lots and would love to hear what you think. Here are some random highlights and unorganized thoughts of mine before I sign off:

My favorite troll from an aesthetic and relatability perspective is Nepeta, the beautiful perfect catgirl she is.

My favorite from a personality perspective is Kanaya, because she just seems to be a really sweet and caring person and I'm intrigued to learn any more about her. Maybe tied is Terezi, who I find a blast to read absolutely all the time and who also seems to be a pretty nuanced character despite first appearance.

My favorite from a storytelling perspective is Vriska, who I fuuuckin hate. ARGH. Can't stand u. But god damn you're written so well and are so interesting and I wanna know bout u.

On a somewhat related note, wow! [S] Make Her Pay! Cool ass animation this time around: lots of beautiful artwork, sick soundtrack, awesome set pieces. Wonderfully done.

The end of this act?? Omg???? The entire monologue section from Aradia was bone chilling, and led up to what was such a SHOCKING revelation to me in that the trolls created Earth I fucking guess????? idk, maybe other people had guessed it by that point and I'm just an idiot but absolutely no part of me even slightly guessed that that was what was going on and it was insane and awesome to learn.

The art overall kinda took a big step up this act, just wayyyy more panels that were detailed pieces rather than the representational sprite art. I dig it.

So so so curious what ungodly series of events leads to the kids causing a literal rift in time space

[stellerssong]

WKFJSA your WIP Wednesday post is an absolute delight to read, thank you 😂😂😂 can I hear a bit more about #6 and perhaps persuade you to share a snippet if I ask very very nicely?

i'm glad to hear it! the thing i have really missed about being on tumblr is being fucking sillygoofy about my own fic. you have to be an adult in the comments, y'know, and there's only so much room in an author's note for Japes and Goofs when you have to make time to outline non-tag warnings and link song attributions and thank your prompter and/or beta and flash an In Tonight's Performance The Role Of X Will Be Played By card as necessary and—

anyway.

#6 was indeed begun in my evernote drafts while waiting for the Fall Out Boy concert to begin and slowly sinking under a dose of unprescribed downers. i think maybe Pat Stump and Pete Wentz are not good at writing, like, "music"—many of those melodic lines are 100% reliant on "i have the range, stamina, and lack of understanding of what constitutes healthful singing of 23-year-old Patrick Stump" in order to function—but some of their word salad lyrics do make great titles, and except to dream sweet of me was kind of a banger from first principles. but then i was like "oh maybe this is my chance to drop while you're orbiting, might i? a potential fic title i've been holding in reserve for a few years now." but THEN i was like "in the spirit of continuing to tick boxes on my nonexistent List Of Languages I've Used For A Fic Title, and also in the spirit of what actually happens in the fic, why not trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe?" vote now on your phones!

okay but what is the fic actually ABOUT. right. what the fic is actually ABOUT is, i believe @tickldpnk8 commented on suffer that hurt that they wanted to see Lucienne tell Dream about her "pleasant" "conversation" with Desire, and to know how that would go. for my part, i didn't want to end revisionsverse without at least one more tender moment between Dream and Luce, because as much as i joke about this being the "Dream talks to all the women in his life au," the Danny/Luce relationship is really the heart of the thing. i also wanted there to be some reciprocity for Luce's courage in suffer that hurt (and during the years of Morpheus' captivity).

something that i think is not super important to fandom at large, but which is very important to ME, is the acknowledgement of female characters of color's emotional labor—not just "wow! you are so girlboss and yass kween and Greta Gerwig Barbie, just like we always knew you were!" but like, "you were brave and strong and i know you didn't really have a choice, but it matters that you endured, let me help you hold that for a while. i see you and i love you." it's the seeing that matters the most to me. not the assumption that She's Always Got It In Her, not the unbroken fortitude, but the acknowledgement of the person underneath. and like, Luce has seen the person underneath all of Dream's competing positionalities so much in this series—has helped shape that person for the reader in a lot of very real ways—so i wanted to get Dream looking back at her, through his own eyes, and showing us the person he loves.

"okay but i'm asking what HAPPENS in the fic. what is the PLOT" THEY CUDDLE IN BED WHILE DREAM CASUALLY HAS A SERIES OF VIVID HALLUCINATIONS. THIS IS A NORMAL DATE NIGHT FOR THEM.

“Where are you now, love?” You are drifting weightless and silent through the soft-edged dreams of a floating cnidarian, the constant pulse-pulse-pulse of your meandering path through space the only defining line between your body, your mind, and the vast careless collective of the open ocean— —and you are stalking along at the side of one of the lesser nightmares as it pursues a child through an alien, twilit forest, tasting fear-sweat smeared over the flat violet plane of a teardrop-shaped leaf, marking the depth of footprints in the leaf-litter, listening for panting breath and for the impact of a small body against the ground as your quarry stumbles for the final time— —and you are stone, molten and white-hot, the burning heart at the core of a newly formed planet which dreams of cooling rains and columns of cloud and the first trembling breath of a living thing that might one day tread the ground of you, the world of you— “I am here with you.” “Well, I know that’s not true,” Lucienne says with a sleepy chuckle. “Or not entirely, anyway.”

[sweetestofchaos]

The Captain’s Vow Masterlist

➳ Series Info

☠ paring: Captain!Seokjin x OC!Enya | Captain!Seokjin x OC!Amaryllis (w/ a side of Bangtan x oc’s)

☠ genre/au/rating: M (18+), Fluff, Angst, Pirate Au, Strangers to Lovers, Fantasy Au, Soulmate Au (if you squint)

☠ summary: When events take an unexpected turn, Captain Seokjin and the remaining members of his crew from the renowned Abyss seek refuge on an isolated island home to ex-pirates. The young captain has a change of heart there and makes his way back to his native country to hang up his uniform. The royals are furious with Seokjin's decision and condemn him and his crew to death, along with the islanders. Seokjin attempts to escape death with the aid of a young servant before setting out to save the islanders, but it is too late. Seokjin makes a pact with someone who most people would believe to be a devil there on the island, and he swears to exact retribution.

☠ warnings: More in depth included in each chapter - not a lighthearted story. Dead Dove (do not eat). Non-Con, Murder, Blood, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex (using magic), Violence, Physical/Mental Abuse, Major Character Death(s), Warfare 

☠ cwc: 0

☠ other: I understand that I have a million story ideas just sitting around collecting dust...but Seokjin, the mother fucking Kim Seokjin has me in a headlock that I cannot get out of even if I wanted to (which I don’t). His photobook is going to be a masterpiece and because of that, this story has come about. Let me get my shit together and enjoy the ride! As always thank you to the wonderful @eerieedits​ for creating the stunning banner above. Y’all don’t know how much this brilliant woman has helped me on most of my stories. She brings out my ideas in visual form and it just makes me wanna do better. So, thank you again, hun for the banner. I love it!

➳ Index

☠  teaser - reading map and charting course...

➳ Extras

☠ drabbles/one-shots

☠ moodboards I II

☠ Glossary

[4dmc]

I made this vent post quite a long time ago. I still stand by what I've posted, though there are grammar errors AND looking back, I feel that it looks hateful on the og but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Also someone said that they thought I interpreted the og Dante as lacking depth, so I'll clarify now.

I do like DMC. Its oddball blend of gothic supernatural Judeo-Christian themes with a ridiculously cheesy and too powerful for his own good protagonist are always fun and intriguing to try around.

The og Dante, despite all the B-movie Japonized Western Noir shenanigans he has running for, is a man of many interpretations.

I do think Dante has MORE he has going for. Manga after manga of him in it, Dante is shown to have baggage. Kamiya Hideki saying he's "afraid when doing his thing" is nice to know but... I feel like we SHOULD know that by now, right?

To me I think it's not just fear but exhaustion. Perhaps it must be exhaustion. He's killed thousands of demons by now, including his own brother (And Vergil has PLENTY of baggage as well..). And nothing's changed much in his world. That aspect would be nice to explore even further right ..

But it's been 2 decades already, and I feel like despite loads of supplementary media (some are in this vague state of semi-canon? Retroactivity?) about Dante and the characters, there's this distance or gap in between the tone/focus on their stories when we're experiencing them in the games.

Like it's okay to have supplementary media to support the games' on-going narrative..😬.. but I feel like it became the other way around, if that's even what happened.

I also have to say this..as much as I deeply appreciate the DMC fandom's efforts on providing more interpretation on the gaps of the franchise's lore (especially before 5 came out), I can't help feel that Capcom has to really rely on the efforts of the fans when it came to polishing out what were even the events that game didn't provide.

Sure, it's interpretation and lore-diving that has so many of us clamoring like bees to pollen, and it's probably a very lucrative move on their end.

But on criticizing it on how legible it's narrative is structured and the on-going story has gone so far, all I'll say is that I've managed to understand the fandom's collective interpretation and it's trajectories, MORE SO than what Capcom has provided. It's so colorful, and there's at least an understanding of Dante's characterization AND pushes the envelope even further with him when it comes to fanfics, compared to the Too-Safe-Everything-Is-Cool-Again-Nothing-To-Worry-Look-He's-Doing-Wacky-Wahoo-Pizza-Moments-Again!-Isn't-That-What-You-Wanted moments he's always expected to go through..

And now that DMC has Pinnacle Of Combat and an upcoming Netflix Anime (and I'm calling it now, even if it's not from Adi Shankar or the one being teased in the Tudum Drop Trailer, it's still the one that's gonna be made because Capcom has already seen how lucrative enough DMC seems to be for their higher-ups & shareholders and such..), what are they adding and subtracting in the lore now, or is the anime gonna be like Arcane LOL type of adaptation, etc. IDK...

In closing this new mess, I just wanna say that DMC fans deserve a much bolder move on the og as a character.

I remember (quite vaguely, if anybody has any research on this article/artbook, lemme know because I'd read that, I crave for info) how their lead writer Bingo Morihashi has wanted to do something about DMC's story for quite a while now, but Hideaki Itsuno himself advised against such a move because it wouldn't fit the style and expectation about DMC.

If this is true, I'm like ??????? 😨

Bingo Morihashi is a novelist by career. I'm not wondering why so many of the supplementary novels are written AND taken well by the fans because I believe what he has written was always crucial to DMC. However why such skills aren't put in the same vein for the games? The games are the highlight of the franchise! It would be even more lucrative if they had let Bingo Morihashi do his thing (I really want to find this article/written interview..)

Video games today benefit a lot from narrative. It always did but with the tech today, video game screen writing is even more significant today!

I don't blame Itsuno (again if that was true....) because I actually understand because he knows the DMC fans😓 and yes I'm sure his experience with DmC has lent to some decisions from his part.

But imagine the better possibilities with the og Dante. I really think it's been long overdue to push some new boundaries with DMC.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2022!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

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271. Seven Days in June by Tia Williams--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This is definitely one of those books I needed to be in a mood for because the first time I tried to read it, I wasn’t into it. But the second time was definitely the right time. Williams’s book deals with some heavily important topics, but intertwined with the depth and the emotional moments is this undercurrent of sexiness that defines the tension between the two MCs. I don’t know if half the time it was WHAT the characters said to each other or HOW these things were said. Beyond the surprisingly spicy moments, the interactions between the two MCs were so raw and yearning that I was sucked in. I think that other than that tension, the more important topic is the pressures we sometimes put on ourselves. We tend to take on the responsibility of pain and grief when we feel out of control. I think it’s important for Williams to show her readers that thin line we sometimes walk between survival and self-destruction. It was haunting and the moment we truly see how life can throw you a punch of guilt and pain, we are hoping that that communication growth carries our characters out of that dark emotional area. Beautifully written, compelling, sexy, and full of great relationships, I think this is definitely a must-read for anyone seeking surprising contemporary books. Also, I just took a star off because it took me a hot minute to get into the story at first.

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272. Melissa by Alex Gino--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Gino's book has gone through a beautiful evolution where it started as one thing and grew into an even more beautiful example of readers empathizing and understanding a story. While this is a shorter novel, it packs quite the punch. This is such an important story for people to read because it helps put you in the mind of a young character who is struggling with her identity and how to present herself to the world as her true self. I think that while some parts were harder to read (emotionally), I think they're also very important because it shows the varying reactions of both parents and children. This is a must-read for everyone and can easily be read in an afternoon. I really want to read all of this author's works now!

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273. Rick by Alex Gino--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After having read MELISSA, I really wanted to check this one out because Rick was a character that was portrayed as a bully in the past. I wanted to see how his character grew and how he would separate himself from his bigoted bully of a friend. I think this book also shows that there CAN be redemption for people who have previously been antagonists. I think authors that do this show a very rounded understanding of human behaviour and how mindsets can change when empathy, personal experience, and education is introduced to their lives. Another great book by Gino. I really need to read their other books!

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274. 20th Century Ghosts by Joe Hill--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I have a love hate relationship with short story collections. Some of the stories in this one were very memorable (like the inflatable people one), and I LOVED the really short one about ghost forests. As much as Hill wanted to present himself to the world as separate from Stephen King, I can definitely see a lot of his influence in his writing. Specifically in how he writes the shock and awe of horror and the discomfort of biases the characters present. His writing is truly just as intoxicating and jarring as King's. I'd recommend this if you love creepy short stories--just keep in mind that "The Black Phone" is very different. It's still good but this is one of those rare times where the movie was better (for me).

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275. Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book was so different from Ng's last books, but in such a good way. I love her writing but this was such a powerful work of fiction because it is so incredibly timely. There were moments where I thought of the pandemic and how the Asian community was and is currently being treated, I thought of the history of how North America has treated its Asian communities, and it made me think of all of the restrictions other minority groups have experienced on this continent. What made this even more of a jarring read is how close our society is to enacting these kinds of laws. Don't go into this book expecting works like Ng's previous books--instead, expect a powerfully written story full of the love of literature, impactful messages, and the dangers of staying silent in a society that demands you speak up.

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276. Twilight by Stephenie Meyer--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-Read November 2022 Now I know why I devoured this when I was younger. I think with older age (in my 20s), I judged this book to such a degree that I lowkey villainized it in my mind. This re-read has helped me appreciate this story more. Is it perfect? Hell no. Does it have problematic moments? Yes, absolutely. But to be honest, it's not as bad as I had painted it in my head since the one and only time I had read it. I'd like to thank my rewatch of the movies for inspiring this re-read.

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277. The School for Good & Evil by Soman Chainani--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read November 2022 I wanted to re-read this because I just watched the movie and I'd forgotten quite a bit since the last time I read this book. I really wanted to actually finish the series this time around! While there were some things that I think might be challenged today (like the fatphobia), I think the story overall still offers incredibly important conversations about gender roles and the importance of different relationships (specifically friendships). I'd still recommend this to readers because it shows that there's more to life than the physical attributes of a person and the public perception some people might have of others. But also, the definition of beauty and how we see ourselves and our worth.

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278. The Great Bear by David Alexander Robertson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

It's been a while since I read book one in this series but I've been meaning to pick this one up. I will admit that I was a little wary at first because the topic of bullying was rough. But I also know that it is an important one (especially when it is bully based on racist and homophobic rhetoric.) The story of this one hit harder than the last one because of the emotional aspects of it. The grief and the confusion that follows grief was powerful and can be a relatable topic. I think it's also a great topic to help readers empathize with those who have lost someone important in their lives. Be prepared for this one--I may or may not have shed a tear or two. Also, be prepared for a story that teaches you to show strength and courage in the face of adversity, and the importance of friendship and perception.

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279. Thanks A lot, Universe by Chad Lucas--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

First of all, I don't know what I was expecting when I picked this book up but this wasn't it. I'm so happy I finally read it because it was both so sweet and so heartbreaking. It goes to show how different families can be affected by things and how everyone has their own stories and experiences while growing up. I loved the exploration of how there are different kinds of families and how important it is to have powerful friendships. This is also set during a time where both of the MCs are experiencing some pretty major changes--one with his identity and the other with his family. I also like that there wasn't a cookie cutter ending because well, these are kids. It also shows us that while some people present one side of themselves to others, usually there are many more sides to their personalities. This was adorable and I want to give all of these characters hugs. Also, props to the one dad. He may not have been the best dad work-wise, but even though he says he had no idea what he was doing as a teen dad, he sure gave incredible advice, helped his child understand some of life's messages, and gave him so much love that it made me want to tear up. Their relationship was beautiful and something I think many kids wish they had with their parent(s) or adult in their lives. I definitely recommend this--100%. Also, for those who have those friends who make uncomfortable jokes about race and someone's sexuality, this book helps with those conflicting emotions and with the strength to stand against those "jokes".

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280. The Best At It by Maulik Pancholy--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This story is one of those important stories that I think kids should read, especially because of some of the more jarring aspects of the story. There was one main issue that I struggled with (even though logically, I know that a lot of kids are this way because of their need to avoid uncomfortable situations) and that was the MC's attitude and how he reacted to others who stood up for him when he faced racism and bigotry. I can see this being relatable for many younger readers, but as an adult I felt both frustrated and sad for him that he didn't feel like it was right for him to stand up to the people keeping him down. I do recommend this one but remember that it is a very jarring read. And trigger warning for racist and homophobic rhetoric.

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Happy reading!

[rainmono]

Interests: Books

Point Horror collection/Goosebumps and all the others: Best book collection(s) I own, collecting them over the years really shaped me as a person, I love the chilling stories told by such amazing writers and don't get me started on the book covers..

The Mediator series by Meg Cabott: I love so many different trilogies Meg has written but this one in particular realllly is my favourite😍, she is one of my favourite writers and I love how detailed and badass her main characters are especially Suze in the mediator, every single book of the Meditator series is amazing and I hope to god it never gets adapted into a show because nobody could do this series justice.

Interview with the vampire trilogy by Anne Rice: I love ALL of Anne's books and was so upset when I heard she had passed, she has left a legacy behind and I simply loved the unique adaptions that have followed the books including this year's show. In depth characters and deep deep plot just my kinda thing.

The Sandman by Neil Gaiman: Neil is a legend and has countless of amazing books but the sandman book/graphic novel is 10000% my favourite of them all. The characters, the lore, the art. Just beautiful.

Keeper of the lost cities by Shannon Messenger: A much lighter carefree fantasy trilogy that I stumbled upon and accidentally became obsessed with, usually fantasy isn't my thing but this one is AMAZING I recently just got the newest book in the series and can't wait to read...

Virginia Andrews books.. A LOT of ppl criticise her works and I can understand why.. she has veryyyy dark books and I probably started reading them WAY to young but I can't help but love them and her writing style was incredibly unique and I will never part with my collection.

The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde was such a beautiful book and I felt so speechless by the end it really made me think deeply and its Oscar Wilde, who was a master of literature and poetry. What more is there to be said?

Jacqueline Wilson THE OG, the first books I ever read were hers and to this day my collection of her books grow, her books remind me of my childhood whilst also touching on the issues young teens face, she will always have a special place in my heart.

that is most of the most influential books I have read/own. I hope you enjoyed this brief analysis, please do reach out if you have recommendations or opinions to share :))))

[sinterblackwell]

shakespeare, my beloved……….that i have yet to read.

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

Corruption & Trust

Stormbringer and bsd spoilers in general ahead so read at your own risk!!

So in this post I will be listing all the times Chuuya used corruption and all the times Dazai was there to stop it. I will also go into depth as to why Chuuya trusts Dazai when it comes to having to use corruption and I will also emphazise on Dazai's care and how he takes corruption seriously.

1. First time using corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old

"Isn't it an unpleasant sight, Chuuya."

It was a young boy. This young boy casually caught hold of Chuuya's arm and lifted it up. With this movement, the gravitational field which had occured around them disappered immediatly. As well as Chuuya’s agony.

"Y...You..."

"You can't even die gracefully can you?" the young boy said in a raspy voice as he heaved Chuuya on his shoulders. He set off to walk.

Alright so this was the first time Chuuya's corruption was ever activated, after Dazai nullifies it and carries Chuuya on his back, he drops him off outside the bar were Chuuya's friends lay dead. He took him there instead of taking him directly to the port mafia quarters.

Why did he do that exactly? If Dazai doesn't care for Chuuya, then why did he give Chuuya the opportunity to pay farewell to his dying friends?

It's actually sort of funny because I don't really think Dazai really realizes or accepts that he feels a certain connection with Chuuya and therefore looks after him.

2. Second time using Corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old (obviously, its still the same light novel lol)

After losing his strength, Chuuya drifted in the air for a few seconds, then lost the black wings on his back and slowly fell.

Dazai caught his body.

From the spot where Dazai touched, the nulification skill was activated.

The self-contradictory skill that supports the energy of the singular point receded, and the output of the singular point decreased. Eventually, it converged and the "gate" closed. The red imprints disappeared from Chuya's whole body. Eventually, the gravitational field disappeared and the complete silence was restored.

“Good job, Chuuya." Dazai chuckled, looking at Chuuya he was holding in his arms. "I forgot to bring my ink pen, so I'll spare you from having your face scribbled."

As much as it looks like this is from a fanfiction, I can assure you that it's an actual passage from stormbringer.

I can't really say much except the fact that Dazai is being extremely soft here.

And this was the conversation Dazai and Chuuya shared beforehand:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right? the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

After this exchange, Chuuya does decide on using corruption. I have talked about this section on a previous post of mine, and I just love it so much. For starters, I think this conversation that these two shared is very important to their characters.

For Chuuya, it shows us how undeniably selfless he is. He would rather save the people of Yokahama instead of finding out something that meant a lot to him. He sacrificed his own desires to save the people he cares about.

For Dazai its a completely different story, in this exchange Dazai was able to openly express genuine concern for his partner. He also understands the gravity of the decision Chuuya has to take and therefore leaves the decision up to him.

Third time using corruption: Dragon's Head Conflict

Chuuya and Dazai' s age: 16 yrs old

During this one, Chuuya demands to know where his friends are, and Shibusawa says all six of them killed themselves after being caught. Enraged, Chuuya activates Corruption which ultimatley ended the 88 day conflict.

There isn't much to say about Dazai and Chuuya here since there isn't really an aftermath on this occasion but I bealive this picture is enough.

Before reading the DA manga, I genuienly thought that the only time Chuuya ever rested on Dazai's lap was when they were 22 but this proved me wrong.

I mean this is a minimal thing to point out but if Dazai disregarded Chuuya he would've just left him there, right? But instead he remained with Chuuya and allowed him to rest on his lap, in the picture you can also see he is putting Chuuya's hat back on. It's such a simple gesture but it shows us how caring Dazai can be when it comes to Chuuya using corruption.

Fourth time using corruption: Lovecraft Battle, Double Black reunion

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22 yrs old

This is personally one of my favorite times in which Chuuya uses corruption. The fact that these two had not been working together for 4 years yet they still managed to not only accomplish their mission, but mantain their trust for one another.

I find what Chuuya says here extremely ironic because if anything, the choice has always been up to him. Dazai always uses corruption as a last-resort trick and its always Chuuya who makes the final decision of using it or not, even in a life or death situation Dazai won't take it upon himself to force Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not, and hes always willing to come up with an alternative plan in case Chuuya refuses. (an example of this is when Chuuya used corruption for the 2nd time in SB).

I think the reason as to why Dazai takes corruption extremely seriously is because during stormbringer he was the first person to even see Chuuya use corruption and also the person who understood how corruption will always be sort of like a burden to Chuuya, since it was thanks to corruption that his "am I human?" question stayed unanswered.

He knows how it feels to struggle with your own humanity and he doesn't want for Chuuya (who he literally sees as human), to hold that inner conflict with himself because of corruption.

Anyways, Chuuya decides to go through corruption trusting that Dazai will be there to nullify it.

And of course, Dazai does nullify it.

And after Dazai nullifies corruption, we get this very touching moment between both of them.

This is the first time Chuuya openly admits to trusting Dazai, although it was always evident that he trusts him, I just love how open he is being here.

Also the light punch he gives to Dazai's chest is such a sweet gesture, I see it as a silent way for Chuuya to say "I trust you because after all this time I still see you as my partner."

Dazai's smile in that small pannel is one of the most genuine expression we have gotten out of him. What he says is also a very sweet, I love that he calls him partner. The fact that these two are literally in rival organizations yet Dazai still calls him partner, it shows us that even after all these years he still can't help but see him the same way as he has always done.

Actually in Japanese he calls him "Aibou" and from my understanding, when you use the term Aibou it's for someone who you consider yourself to be close with. It means "partner" like in english but it holds a deeper meaning. If Dazai used the word "nakama" it would have been a very diffrent story since it means partner as well but it isn't used for someone you share a significant connection with. Asagiri's play with words here says a lot.

Fifth time using corruption: Dead Apple

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22yrs old.

Of course I have to talk about one of the most iconic moments in the history of Soukoku.

Chuuya uses corruption to save Dazai, even if Ango says that he's dead for sure. Something I find very intresting here though is that Chuuya screams for Dazai while he is on corruption, he is obviously not supposed to be self concious about the whole situation, while on Corruption clearly he is not supposed to be in sane state of mind, as we all here know, Chuuya loses control and does not have the track of reality while under his own ability but this time, while using corruption, the one and only thing that was on his mind was "Dazai."

It wasn't only Chuuya who entrusted his life to Dazai, Dazai too entrusted his life in Chuuya's hands. When Dazai came up with this plan, he was more than certain that Chuuya was going to save him. And I think a tumblr blog pointed this out but when Chuuya uses curroption, he cannot control his strength, but when he had to punch Dazai he did it lightly, which is strange considering he was using curroption and it would've made a lot more sence if Dazai ended up decapitated due to being punched by a literal god. Dazai had to have faith in the fact that Chuuya will somehow be able to control corruption, even if its just a little bit.

Afterwards when Chuuya manages to rescue Dazai, Dazai gently touches his cheek to nullify corruption and greets him with, "You used Corruption believing in me? I am so touched I could cry." Chuuya groans, and replies that yes he did, that he believed in his disgusting vitality and craftiness.

When they both fall to the ground, Dazai forces Chuuya to rest in his lap because he didn't want to have to protect him from this situation since the fog is still up and Chuuya himself is all worn out and wouldn't be able to fight. But heres the thing, both Chuuya and Dazai's abilities can't be seperated by the fog. I mean Dazai's ability is nulification so it basically cancels out, and Chuuya hosts a literal god inside him so it isn't really an ability if you know what I mean.

So in reality, Dazai just wanted Chuuya to rest. Dazai could've literally just left Chuuya in the fog if he was only using him for his goals, but he was genuienly appreciating Chuuya's trust in him. The way Dazai's hand is resting on Chuuya's hair is a nice gesture too, he is greatful for him and he is moved that someone trusts him, it is shown throughout the Fifthteen and SB light novel that no one trusted Dazai and how most were afraid to even approach him. And in the ADA, everyone is somewhat warry around him (excluding Atsushi ofc). But Chuuya literally puts his life on the line trusting that Dazai will always be there to save him. He trusts him greatly and Dazai knows that, and I think its pretty clear to us that he would never want to break that trust.

The fact that Chuuya trusts Dazai even after he left the Port Mafia without an explanation or goodbye shows us how strong their bond is. Chuuya most likely trusts Dazai because deep down he knows that he isn't using Chuuya's ability out of his own selifshness, a part of him is aware that Dazai uses corruption as a last resort but he just doesn't want to admit it, and I feel like he also trusts him subconciously because of how gentle Dazai is after Chuuya uses corruption.

I really hope we get to see more of these "corruption moments" because in all honesty, these moments are the ones that bring out the most vulenrability for both characters. The moment corruption is used, we see the inmeasurable amount of trust and care these two have for each other that they won't show in other situations. During these times it always shines a very open and bittersweet light on their bond and I love it so much.

[metvmorqhoses]

Thank you for your take on the Darkling! I absolutely loved reading it. (I might read it a second time tbh). He truly is complicated and it kinda bothers me that people oversimplify him, especially the book version. Could things have been better? A 1000% Yes! But I don't see how people can read TDiW and not see his perspective on life or at least feel sorry for him. Btw are you going to read the graphic novel on TDiW when it comes out? Do you think LB is using him to simply make more money? It's hard to tell if she actually cares about him as a character.

You cannot imagine how glad I am to see so many people sharing my thoughts and frustrations regarding such a deserving and yet so poorly treated character. Every time it feels genuinely like a small victory.

One thing can surely be said, this fandom gave the Darkling the consideration and depth the original novels denied him. What he deserved as a character, he certainly found here thanks to some very stubborn few.

As for your question, I am actually still debating if reading The Demon in the Wood (especially the upcoming graphic novel), even while of course knowing more or less its general content.

If I have to be completely honest with you, I am quite fed up with how Bardugo uses and abuses the Darkling, a character she probably conjured by chance while taking here and there from ancient folklore and other better works, a character far larger than her own imaginings, a character that quite obviously escaped her own narrative and just stubbornly refuses to fit in every single little box she tries and fails to relegate him in, and to the point of discovering myself discouraged at the idea of reading something I'm deeply interested in because of the tragic logics of its own creator.

I absolutely find this occurrence deeply bizarre myself. It had never happened to me before, to like something so much while completely disagreeing in every single way with the person who is supposed to be in charge of it. I've always been fiercely loyal to every artist's absolute right of kingship over their own creations, but I find this particular case just hardly excusable.

As a reader, I cannot really help but feeling toyed with and cheated when it comes to this series.

The general writing is plain and mediocre aside for a few lines here and there. The plot doesn't make any thematic sense. The story doesn't follow its own logic but the absolute strange one of an author lurking behind every corner, an author that doesn’t allow her readers to actually have their own opinions about anything. The majority of the characters are "heavily inspired" by some other greater source. The rhyme and reason of the one poetically and mythologically interesting personality in there completely escapes its creator, whose only piece of understanding seems to revolve around the fact that, for some reason, this very character is the one thing that makes her books sell.

Therefore everything she writes constantly hints at and promises a big meaningful part for him in the narrative, while in truth he is just strategically always put one time in the beginning, one time in the middle and one time at the end of every single book just to serve as a page-turner and to make at the same time plain and over-sentionalistic turning points work, without ever gaining any real role, development or actual depth, while the other characters seem always frozen in their own opinion no matter the evidence they are presented with, eternally unable to change their (the author’s) static idiotic narrative about him.

That LB puts the Darkling in her books to make them sell it's by now evident common knowledge. That she uses our collective interest in him for her own gain, all the while judging us harshly for it, it’s something that truly drives me up a wall. And quite frankly I am rather uninterested in following the appalling and nonsensical literary whirling she constructs with this poor character as the main bait in order to quite literally exploit our ability to recognize artistic worth.

I actually noticed she always tries to deal with him as little as possible in every novel, probably afraid to find herself in the need to really start to characterize him.

It's really quite sad.

The Darkling is literally killed and brought back to life to sell copies. The Darkling is what makes Netflix shows happen. And now prequels about him are coming out in different forms just for a capitalistic kind of sake.

I'm not a big fan of any of this. If the writing was at least good, getting idealistically mad would make some sort of sense, but alas this is not even that much the case.

I hope I didn't sound too harsh, but I really was in absolute disbelief while reading those novels.

I’d much prefer reading again some true masterpieces written by beyond talented authors on ao3 (stories that actually feel way more real and deserving than the actual original books) and leaving LB to her own, very sad, literary choices.

[buzzykrueger]

When Gon’s anger becomes a protective mechanism for Killua

IMPORTANT: The text is long, plus, I do not support Gon hate. He’s a human being and a kid, so don’t worry, none of my analysis will put him as a monster.

You know the theory that one of the reasons Gon shuts Killua out from Pitou’s fight, besides proving himself and erasing his guilt, is also to keep Killua safe? I didn’t understand at first, but I kinda agree with that now.

Remember the “YES I AM AN IDIOT” iconic scene, Greed Island arc?

Let’s talk about that and link it all.

They’ve spent half of the chapter 158 arguing because Gon kept insisting on meeting this “Chrollo Lucilfer” person inside the game, while Killua was trying to be logical, saying that this person wouldn’t clarify their reasons only by asking them. Killua eventually gives in, and after Gon uses the card, they travel to met not Chrollo, but Hisoka, who asks if they went all that way just to ask him a question (implying how dumb it was).

Gon says that’s pretty much their reason and Killua kept teasing Gon on his dumb choice.

But after some ping-pong teasing between them, the reason Gon was being stubborn is, actually, a concern that lights up on his mind with memories of his journey to rescue Killua from Kukuroo Mountain. Even blushing, Gon says that he was reminded of Gotoh’s words and was worried that both of them were being deceived.

Gotoh’s words were, exactly:

Be careful. And protect Killua.

This also adds to the character analysis - one that is very on point - that Gon being outgoing doesn’t mean he puts depth to analyzing his feelings. He speaks his mind, the problem is not to talk per se - but to put effort into understand his intentions behind those actions. He could say he was worried about them, but he doesn’t, because he speaks first and doesn’t think through what he feels. He’s yes outgoing, but impulsive, and very immersive into acting first, think later - or even thinking only when questioned, because it didn’t even crossed his mind. That’s why we see him talking but yet... it’s hard to know what is happening inside him aside from Killua’s common inner monologues. But maybe protecting Killua it’s so natural that he doesn’t even bother to explain. To think that he keeps Gotoh’s words and even mentions it after all this time, such a nice and gentle touch of how much he respects his bond with Killua. 

Now, let’s get back to the CAA events. Specifically chapter 222.

A very shocked and distressed Gon was learning through Kite's attacks, but not to defend himself or parry. His painful attempts were all leading to dodge the punches and faints, so he could give puppet Kite a hug, and an apology.

Yes, he said terrible things to Killua - and of course wanting to protect him wasn’t the only reason. But he knew from the moment they first met Pitou, that they were dangerous. He wanted to deal with that alone, because it was “his mess”, so he shouldn’t endanger his most beloved one. 

We know that this is a turning point for Gon’s development in this arc, because it is the moment where his resolve becomes tainted with all the guilt he is facing. It’s when he starts to lose himself, and Killua knows that, probably, nothing he says or do will convince Gon otherwise.

But what contrasts with the well-known harsh words towards his best friend, is that he never meant to exclude Killua from the whole situation. That's why he says "OUR fault".

Then, right after, he addresses Killua directly. Visibly starting to lose himself, he takes the responsibility to prove he's strong to fix it, but I think that due to his communication pattern, he might also mean that he’s want to fix it without endangering who he wanted to fight by his side under normal circumstances.

It’s an act that can hold both guilt and protection. He addresses only that one person in the room because he needs Killua to know that this isn't a normal situation, and that's why he can't bring him to this fight. It isn’t normal because someone dear to him got hurt really bad. It isn’t normal because his best friend, someone who would not think before putting his life at risk for Gon, shouldn’t endanger himself to the point he could face the same destiny, specially because this is Gon’s way to show he cares. Again, Gon just speaks his mind without much thought, with his intentions between the lines. His effort to put his feelings into words mixed with the suffering he is handling are, on his mind, overwhelming enough - but still he cared to speak directly to Killua. Could this be, again, another demonstration of not-so-well-thought feelings spoken with the first words that come to his mouth?

Wouldn’t make sense, after all of those demonstrations of Gon’s behavior when someone is endangered and he desperately wants to take control of the situation because he thinks this is the best way to protect them and to be useful, and with that, deserving of their company? 

As Gon's communication is both simple (in words) and complex (behind the words), since he doesn't think through his feelings and he’s a stubborn child, it makes hard for others to catch his intentions, specially if they're already struggling to understand that they are not a burden. Because Killua’s mindset on making friends also includes the need to feel useful, just like Gon’s, but expressed through different means - and by being casted away fro Gon’s decision and later saving the boy in order to push him forward once again to his goal (alone this time), Killua thinks Gon has cut ties with him. as he couldn’t play a helpful role within Gon’s life anymore. So, this is how he reaches the rejective conclusion.

But the connection that I'm trying to make is that even thought Gon’s words were awful as the boy himself recognized, I truly believe Gon still wouldn't want Killua to fight even if he knew how his friend felt.  But not because he rejected Killua or meant to cut ties with his “no longer useful” best friend.

Because Gon has stated already: Killua doesn’t have to earn his friendship.

Those harsh words during the Palace Invasion were an attempt to regain control of the situation, prove his worth in the middle of a mental chaos that he wasn’t ready to face. But still, what if he kept reminding himself that he must protect his best friend in the entire world and just couldn’t find a better way to say it? Because he knows Killua is capable of self-sacrificing, Gon tried to stop him before, and Pitou is terribly strong. If it’s hard for him to translate his feelings when he is calm and collected, the extreme condition he found himself dragged in would’ve just made this communication face more obstacles. Fighting his own pain - another thing he couldn’t translate for the sake of his own mental health - led to the words to come out like they were: heartbreaking.

So, I’m not saying that it was solely to protect Killua, but I think that makes sense for Gon’s character. And again, I don’t think he would agree that Killua would fight what he thinks it’s his battle alone. But, with his mind cleared and the right questions, he would've given Killua an answer. He would say that this is not about taking Killua out of the special place Gon has put him, but about Gon taking the the responsibility based on what he thinks it’s best for everyone. His feelings, either protective or hurtful, are only explained when he’s asked, because action speaks volume for him and he needs this trigger question to make him translate his intentions.

Just like in the Hunter Exam, he only tells Kurapika about how he felt with Hisoka because he questioned. 

And in the Yorknew Arc, Gon didn’t let Killua hurt himself and was really trying to understand how the other boy felt. Gon doesn't communicate well but not because he rejects his feelings, and still, he cares about others’ feelings too. He was just literally out of his mind. So yeah, I think he cared for Killua safety, and if after all this time he made a connection between his stubborn acts and Gotoh’s words, it’s because - on his mind - these words and thoughts never leave his head. He’s constantly worrying about Killua, in his own way. But he couldn't explain something that he didn't put a second thought even for himself to understand. And it's not the first time, he acts very similar in these mentioned situations.

What all these stubborn oriented situations that I’ve mentioned, except for the one regarding Hisoka, have in common? He wanted to protect Killua.

He was undeniably wrong in saying those words to Killua, but it’s something acknowledged by himself already. He IS, by his nature, a protective kid, and under normal circumstances, Killua would be allowed to fight by his side because it has to be him. If it’s not going to be him, it won’t be anyone else. He can’t risk to lose him for something that he feels overly responsible. His words were rooted in pain, but the moment he addresses Killua that he would fight alone - a moment recollected by the latter in the hospital scene - shows respect for the one he has just lost, Kite, and the one he doesn’t want to lose. 

Killua is the one who never left him, never discredited him and is irreplaceable. Killua is the first thing that comes up to his mind when thinking about meeting Ging. Who would have thought that Gon’s mind would reach so far into memories and hold so deeply someone’s words like Gotoh’s?

He was selfish. But it’s a childish selfishness, built on such empty expectations about himself that he ends up forcing on others what he believes that is the right thing to do, in order to keep others safe, no matter how bad he hurts his body... because when it comes to protect those he care, he loses respect on his self-care due to this low self-esteem of his. So, he didn’t ask Killua to “please, let me fight alone”, because he’s decided to not drag Killua into a fight he knows he might lose, and then Killua couldn’t be protected.

And makes sense, again, that Killua couldn’t read between these lines, because he also blames himself for everything that happened, and thinks his feelings and desires would only keep in Gon’s way - that’s why those words hit him so deeply, but the thing that hurts him the most was the sole fact that Gon fought alone. He can’t help but compare to the dodgeball, and like Gon, Killua has his own unhealthy patterns: since he only knows love through pain, when he’s prevented from getting hurt against his will, he fails to understand it as an act of love.

The bond they’ve established while playing Greed Island was expressed through dozens of symbolisms already well discussed among the fandom (Killua’s badge, the rainbow diamond, the famous line during the dodgeball game). And I don’t doubt that their encounter with Pitou held traces of the same protective pattern, but messed up by Gon’s internal struggle.

For the times Gon showed concern before, we can mention more expressive moments like the whole Zoldyck arc, when they were escaping from the Troupe, when Tzeseguerra said he’d endangered Killua or even when Killua got caught by some spell, etc, or we can even analyze his body language. Like here:

Before the date, Gon is indirectly protecting Killua in here, through his body language (Killua entered the room first, but Gon puts himself between them):

And after the date, while being punished for hurting her feelings, Gon screams at Palm when she tried to stab Killua, probably implying that he was observing and only interveins when she tries to hurt anyone other than himself - because he is, again, being stubborn and taking all the blame and control in order to redeem his actions and prove his capacity to fix things. I think it’s possible that Gon talked to her about Killua off curtains, or at least made an agreement about not involving Killua in her madness, but it it’s open to interpretation.

So, yeah, I can’t help but link everything to his pattern. He responds to the fear of losing those he loves with the same impactful devotion that is given to him, but it is so impactful that fails vocabulary and second thoughts. He knows Killua will be the first to risk his life if something happens or to prevent Gon from getting hurt during his tasks. Killua tends to sacrifice a lot and never complains while doing it, so I think it’s pretty much plausible that even when he can’t express himself at all, he’s worrying about Killua in the corner of his mind. Sometimes, just before our eyes.

Anyways, I love re-reading Greed Island arc and linking to their development through CAA because pretty much anything they do, they’re doing together, and they were bonding so beautifully. Their relationship was never so well-detailed before, but mostly for us, when they didn’t get much time to put in the balance how rushed their training was, and how fast they got attached to the point they can’t even stop thinking about each other while distant.

They look at each other like this:

They inspire this kind of reaction from others:

And there’s this one... nothing big, I just love it hahahaha

They’re in love each others’ top priority. It’s not impossible that Gon took Killua’s safety into matter, but his mind and words failed him, as he himself acknowledges that the only explanation to say those things to Killua is that “he doesn’t know what he was thinking”. Because, under normal circumstances, just like about letting Killua fight by his side, he would NEVER hurt Killua’s feelings. He IS protective. He didn’t have to rescue Killua from his own home - since Killua left for himself - but he still does it, instead of sticking to his main journey. And did not budge until Killua was safe by his side.

It’s a badly worded protection, because he doesn’t even know self-protection and puts action before everything. To figure a better way out of this pattern, he will now have plenty of time to find new ways to protect Killua and himself from the flaws of their dynamic. Their emotional attachment didn’t grow as fast as their fighting skills, but it doesn’t mean Gon is a monster, was malicious towards Killua or wanted to break his heart. I don’t even think he would reject Killua, but would explain the reason behind his decision in a reassuring way.

And finally, it’s so symbolic how Gotoh died and got replaced by a Kiriko - the same creature that translates Gon’s perceptiveness and how the boys are close. This way, they are still linked by Gotoh’s words through someone that mimics Gotoh’s appearance and also understands their relationship like the long gone butler. His words will never die.

And not to mention... how shoujo and romantic it is that Gon remembers the promise he made to Gotoh before he takes Killua with him? It is almost like a marriage proposal. That he didn’t forget, not even after all this time. 

Do I think he would’ve change his mind on letting Killua fight? Not at all, and Killua couldn’t change his mind even if he begged, at least not without some patient mental work. This is Gon’s mindset on protecting someone. But like that time in Greed Island, under normal circumstances, Gon would’ve ease Killua’s worries directly or indirectly after some talking. And of course, it is not his job to guess Killua’s feelings, communication must be a two-way path. Killua waited for too long, and at that point, Gon was too lost in his grief and wasn’t able to measure his words. But I truly believe that, deep inside his mind, those words and that promise were still there, waiting to resonate if necessary.

And as @gallyl​ added so perfectly: Killua is alive and well, grieving on the hospital’s bench, trying to get a grip of everything he just experienced. Decided to give Gon a second chance, he’s now able to understand this message of love Gon has left for him: there’s so much he can do in life, that Gon simply doesn’t want him to die because Killua’s whole life was surrounded by death - and Killua’s greatest wish was to live like a normal kid. And this speaks louder to Gon than having Killua to himself in death. A love that is not selfish, and does not envy. Killua’s life is validated, and in return, he saves Gon and his sister, the ones he loves the most, and validate back their right to exist, to grow, to try again. Unconditional love. At first, he’s hurt and demands an apology. But it’s Alluka who reminds him of how love must be free to give and to receive - he should let his heart open for whenever Gon is ready to reach him again.

But now, the apology will matter. 

And this is absurdly romantic. Not every sacrifice ends up in dying together to prove a relationship. They’ve made promises similar to marital vows, and not everything happened like they wanted, but they made clear to us that they’re not done with each other - as they refuse to say goodbye, and keep grammatical constructions like “for a while”, indicating a break, an interlude. 

Their song is still playing, and their promises still exist as their split was never mentioned as something definitive, because preventing the other one to get physically hurt on your behalf and taking some time to think before you take the risk to accidentally emotionally hurt them too are both ways to show protection. Ways that they’re learning now, two boys who think they should get hurt to love and be loved. 

[paterson-blue]

Shadow of the Sea: Chapter 1

Summary: Kylo is used to being alone. It's how he's survived this long, in the cold ocean depths. He can take care of himself. Other creatures--other merfolk--are dangerous; he has the scars to prove it. Humans, however, are the worst of all. But one day, Kylo finds he has no other choice but to turn to one for help. The human he meets is nothing like he expects, and all he knows is he wants more. Is he willing to pay the price?

Word Count: 4,394

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, plot set up, kylo ren needs a hug confirmed, non-graphic descriptions of violence & bodily harm, brief mentions of blood & wounds, very vague medical descriptions lol, minor character death (happens off screen), oh but there's also one that happens on screen but it's brief, big time ocean nostalgia from your dear author— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thank you @paper-n-ashes for beta reading! Icon behavior tbh.

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Kylo prided himself on his independence—his ferocity, his ability to fight his way out of every corner. His body was scarred and battle-hardened, but that didn’t matter. It was proof he was a survivor, and it’s not like he had anyone around him to care about his appearance. Most creatures he saw took one look at his massive form and ran.

He was intimidating, all muscle, his fins torn from previous fights. While his skin was pale, his scales were an onyx color; it made blending into the ocean depths easier. He couldn’t understand why merfolk’s standard of beauty was a brightly colored tail; didn’t it make camouflaging more difficult?

He guessed most merfolk didn’t care about that. They lived in large groups, colorful and cheerful and busy amongst other plant and animal life. Not many delved into the cold, murky areas Kylo had made his home. But he’d been there as long as he could remember, and there was no sense in changing things. He wouldn’t be welcome in the warmer waters anyway. They didn’t want him, and he didn’t want them.

So he kept away, and no one dared bother him. Those that did quickly learned not to. He had killed many creatures, and while it was all in defense, his reputation still preceded him. After all, he’d once fought one of the most dangerous predators the ocean knew, and he’d won.

He’d killed a human, after they’d captured him in their net. He’d overpowered them easily, yanked them from their boat into the water; he hadn’t even flinched when their little fishing knife plunged into his side. He’d watched with a furious gaze as the air left their lungs, their pathetic struggling eventually ceasing. Then he’d calmly cut himself loose from the netting. The knife wound had scarred over, but it was just one more to add to his collection.

Yes, Kylo prided himself on his abilities. He had no fear, no weakness; he never ran from a fight.

He was running now.

He’d been foolish. He should have realized why his normal hunting grounds had been so devoid of fish for the past few days—he should have seen the signs, should have been more careful. But hunger makes you desperate; makes you stupid. He hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on the singular fish he’d found.

It seemed to happen all at once. A sudden blow to his head that left him reeling, pain shooting through his skull as he whips himself around in attempts to find his attacker. A searing burn in his side the exact moment he feels a sharp pinch at the back of his neck. His head starts to spin with confusion, the scent of his own blood in the water.

He spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, and his heart leaps into his throat. It was a human, and they had some sort of weapon pointed right at him.

Kylo doesn’t think—he just bolts. They don’t seem to follow him at first, and he doesn’t understand why until he starts to feel the first symptoms of whatever they’ve injected him with. It makes him dizzy, makes his vision start to blur as a sickening metallic taste fills his mouth.

No, he thinks. I won’t let them do this.

He pulls strength from deep within and pushes himself to swim faster, farther. He hears a muffled shout from behind, and oh, they’re pursuing him now.

He swims frantically, skirting around rocks and through kelp forests, desperately trying to lose them even though he thinks he might hear the dull thrum of a boat motor over the thudding of blood in his ears. Kriff, he was so tired. It would be so easy to let the human magic overtake him, to sink to the ocean floor.

Was this death? A dreamless sleep that crept over your senses until you had no choice but to succumb to it? Kylo doesn’t want to die, not like this. Not where they can get to him, at least.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, doesn’t even know where he is until he catches a quick glimpse of a familiar rock formation. His mind is in shambles, drugged and panicked, lacking oxygen as his gills burn with the strain of his labored breathing.

A cove. Not too far from here. Too shallow for a boat, too rocky for humans. A cave to shelter in. Go, swim, fast, now, now, go.

The voice in his head doesn’t feel like his own—it’s frantic, urgent, thoughtless. Usually he was so composed, controlled. The threat of death had turned him into nothing more than an animal; he’s never felt so small.

He ducks and weaves as he swims towards the hidden cove, trying to convince himself he’s doing it on purpose and not just fading in and out of consciousness. If he can just stay awake a little longer, if he can just make it to that kriffing cave, he can die with dignity. Alone and cold, drugged and bleeding, but away from the humans trying to hurt him.

Kylo nearly loses his speed when he breeches the shallow waters of the cove, his mind wanting to shut down now that he’s made it. He forces himself to keep going despite his nausea and lightheadedness. His lungs are screaming, muscles aching; he scrapes his tail against the rocky outcroppings as he searches frantically for the mouth of the underwater cave.

It’s here, it’s here. I know it’s here, I’ve seen it, I mapped it. Where is it?!

His hands snag against an opening, just barely big enough for him to squeeze through, and he darts into it. It’s a tight fit, and for a brief second Kylo is terrified he’ll get stuck and pass out from whatever the humans hit him with—he’ll die, trapped, never to be found.

But then, quick as a flash, he’s through to the other side. The small tunnel opens up into a larger cavern, protected from the elements and decorated with several pools of varying depths. He’d explored it once, curious, thinking it would be a nice place to hide. It was a little too close to humanity for his comfort, but then again he’d never seen this area very populated. He’d figured he’d keep it in the back of his mind for later.

Turns out later was now.

Kylo pulls himself to the edge of the main and deepest pool, looking around urgently through spotty vision. There was a pool in the corner, half hidden by rocks—it looked shallow, but just deep enough to be submerged. Exhaling fast, he hauls himself up and out of the water, coughing and choking as his body tries to adjust from using his gills to his mouth and nose to breathe. It was never an easy transition, and he hated doing it, but right now it was what he needed.

He growls to himself as he pulls his heavy body along the rough stone cave floor, his normally nimble tail a dead weight. If he wasn’t about to faint, he thinks he’d be a bit more graceful. By the time he rolls unceremoniously into the shallow pool, his palms are all scraped up and bleeding. He doesn’t care; barely feels the sting. He’s not really feeling much of anything at this point, head spinning out of control.

Laying like this on his back, head propped up against the ledge of the pool, Kylo gazes up at the jagged rock ceiling. His lungs crackle as he heaves in breaths, heart still pounding loudly. It’s hard to hear anything else, and he wonders again if his attackers are closing in on him. Does it even matter? His dying mind questions. He doesn’t have an opportunity to think of a retort before his body finally breaks, and he succumbs to the drug induced sleep.

—————————————————————

You wake to the familiar sounds of distant crashing waves, whistling wind, and calls of seagulls. After years on the island, the noise was a comfort.

You’d grown up here, in this same cottage by the sea--been raised fishing, hunting for mussels, searching through tide pools. You and your siblings would bike into town to sell your wares at the local market before heading down to the pier to watch the boats come and go. It was a simple life, sometimes a little isolated, but it was good nonetheless. You loved the island and the ocean, and held great respect for them both. If you honor them, they will honor you--at least, that’s what your mother always said.

Your siblings grew up and moved to the mainland, but still you stayed. Got yourself a little apartment in town above the local grocery, worked at the marina as a clerk, and visited your parents on the weekends. When your mother passed, your father followed just weeks later—a broken heart, everyone said. Suddenly, your beloved little slice of heaven—of home—belonged to you.

So you moved back into the cottage you grew up in, a place haunted by the ghosts of memories and the sounds of the sea. If you’re being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how many times you pretend to entertain your siblings’ urging to rent the place out. Think of all the money you’d make. It’s the perfect vacation spot.

Maybe so, but you don’t care. You don’t want strangers in your home—not those tourists who come to fawn over the village, who eat up the landscape with cameras without really seeing it, who gawk at the fishermen, who laugh at the prices at the market. They would probably call your cottage quaint and cute. You could picture them tittering over your family photos on the mantle, over the door frame where heights had been marked over the years.

Tourists, who both long for and pity an isolated life on the ocean. Oh, they have it so easy here, away from the stress of the city. Oh, could you imagine living this way, barely scraping by?

No, you didn’t want them in your home, a place so sacred. You didn’t care what money you were missing out on—you got by fine with your pay from the marina, and picking up shifts at the local cafe. You loved your cottage—savored every creaky floorboard, every leaky windowsill. The drip of the bathroom faucet, the howl of the sea wind through the chimney—these were the sounds of familiarity, of safety. No one would appreciate them like you did.

Twisting around in bed, you turn your gaze towards the open window that was letting in a fresh, salty breeze. It was early, the light still dim and grey, the air a little chilly. It makes you want to curl back up under your covers, catch a couple more hours of shut-eye. It was your day off, after all; you could afford to sleep in.

Except.

You sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face as you remember what your yesterday brain had planned. You’d told yourself you’d get up in order to gather mussels at low tide. There were plenty of tide pools around, especially in the caved area of the cove. It was your family’s little secret—the hidden grotto was all but invisible from the outside. The only reason you even knew about it was because your brother had been too adventurous for his own good as a child, always getting into places he shouldn’t.

Mussels, clams, seaweed, probably fish in the deeper tide pools—maybe some sea urchin you could sell at the market. Your stomach growls.

Well, that’s that.

Groaning, you haul yourself up and out of bed, wincing at the cold hardwood on your bare feet. You bounce on your toes, shivering, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you pad over to close the window. Despite growing up here, you were always surprised at the temperature. You stubbornly let in the breeze at night, all bundled up under your covers, pretending when you woke it would be nice and warm.

But nope, not here; even in the dead of summer the mornings were chilly. Sometimes you dreamed that you lived on one of those big, luxurious, heated beaches—hot sun and white sand as far as the eye could see, no craggy cliffs or rocky shores. Eh. You probably wouldn’t like it much anyway, too used to your own environment.

Glancing at the clock, you quickly throw on some warm clothes, half-assing your regular morning routine before grabbing your tide-pool hunting essentials: a flashlight, knee-high waders, a large bucket, and your trusty fishing knife. You take a deep breath at the front door, bracing yourself for the chill. Just think of the feast you’ll have later. And you can reward yourself with a hot bath and long nap.

It’s not too long a distance from the cottage to the rocky shoreline, and while the low tide has revealed the tempting sand leading towards the rolling waves, you head towards the jagged outcropping to the left. Years of following the same path means it doesn’t take you long at all to find the hidden entrance and carefully make your way into the cavern.

In the middle of a sunny day, light shone in through various cracks in the ceiling, glinting off the water and creating flickering reflections against the stone walls. Sometimes you came here just to think, or to take a dip in the largest pool. The water was always warmer here, protected from the full power of the currents by the rock face.

Now, however, it was dark—only the dimmest bit of grey morning light trickled in. You flick on the flashlight, humming softly to yourself. The melody echoes off the stone walls, and you set your bucket down at the closest tide pool, readying yourself to hunker down and get to work. The beam of the light scans the various pools as you turn to get your knife from its holder, and something catches your eye. It’s not much, and honestly if you weren’t so familiar with the cave you probably wouldn’t have noticed the dark shape in the far corner pool.

At first, you do a double take, eyes sweeping over the little red-tinged puddles on the floor. Blood. You grip your knife, mind racing with possibilities. Was there someone in here with you? Surely not. No one ever came out here. Swallowing hard, you take a couple steps towards the corner, torch in one hand and knife in the other. As you get closer, your gaze tracks the diluted blood trail into the pool, and at first all you notice is the black scales and fins of a fish. The grip on your knife loosens just a little, the fear of a possible threat fading.

It's a big animal, you can tell that even as you make your way over, and you wonder idly how it got in. You knew, logically, that the cave connected to the ocean somehow, but you can't imagine the tide being so high for a fish as large as this one to find its way into the back corner. You’re focused on this conundrum as you round the ledge that’s been shielding the animal from your full view--so much so that it takes you more than a couple moments for your mind to compute just what it's seeing.

The tail is thick and muscular, decorated in obsidian scales that lead to delicate looking fins at the bottom. There were smaller, fan looking fins on the sides of the tail--they were all ripped up, as if they had been torn in previous fights. Your brain clocks all of this in seconds but doesn’t dwell, because it’s focused on the top half of the animal--creature--merman.

Merman. A fucking merman.

The ebony scales at the waist fade seamlessly into pale skin and lean muscle, revealing a long, firm torso. If you weren’t so aware of the tail, you might--might--think he could pass for human. Well, except for the webbed fingers and razor-sharp nails adorning each of his hands. He’s half submerged in the water of the pool, dark hair covering part of his face so you can’t see it.

You stand there, frozen, staring, not quite knowing what to do. You weren’t… scared; weren’t even very surprised aside from the initial shock of seeing him. You’d grown up hearing stories, traditions, tales—it was more than folklore here on the island. Some of the elders believed in merfolk more than ghosts, more than aliens, more than god.

Mr. Mackenzie told tales of mermaids luring in his shipmates as prey, drowning them. You always thought they were just stories designed to scare children away from dangerous tides—and maybe they were. But other accounts, you weren’t so sure of.

It was the wonder on Ms. Fraser’s face when she recounted the long-ago memory of swimming along sandbars with a girl who could breathe underwater. It was the quiet reverence of Mr. McDougall’s voice when he whispered about removing an old fish hook from a merman’s tail. It was the tears in Mrs. Buchanan’s eyes when she insisted merfolk rescued her husband from a fishing boat wreck.

You believed them. You always had, even if you’d done it silently, bashfully. You knew those who still made offerings to the ocean and to the beings that dwelled within the depths. Your island community believed in things not seen, but passed down through generations of storytelling. It was your history, kept alive despite first hand encounters becoming few and far between.

Except, here it was—your own little slice of history, right in front of you. If you took a couple more steps, you could reach out and touch it.

Is he breathing?

The little voice in your head brings you back down to your body, and a sudden fear overtakes you. You can’t let him die—if he was even still alive to begin with. You glance nervously at the pinkish trail of blood leading to the pool; the sight makes you reach some sort of resolve.

Hyper-aware of the claws on his hands, you kneel down beside him, hesitating only briefly before you settle your hand on his large bicep. He doesn’t stir, and your stomach twists unpleasantly. Your hand slides down to his wrist, and while you can admit you aren’t an expert on merfolk anatomy, surely you’ll be able to feel a pulse from the spidery blue veins under his pale skin.

Relief washes over you in a wave when you do, indeed, find a pulse—slow, but strong. Okay, not dead then. Still, he doesn’t move, so you take it upon yourself to move his damp hair out of his face, curling it behind his prominent ears.

He’s handsome.

You feel yourself flush, immediately chastising yourself for the thought. This was—best case scenario—a complete stranger who was wounded and in possible danger. Worst case scenario… you didn’t want to think about. Needless to say, it was no time to be thinking about his level of attractiveness.

You force yourself back into action, cupping his head as you hold your hand under his nose. His breathing is steady, and you gently lay his head back where it rested on the rock ledge. Your fingertips brush against something, and you frown as you realize he has a lump on the back of his skull—as if he’s been hit. You can only hope it hasn’t done too serious damage; it wasn’t like you could really take him to the hospital.

Your attention moves down his body, and you make yourself bypass the gills in his neck in order to properly gauge his wounds. Minor cuts and scrapes littered his skin; from the number of scars decorating his form, you figure these aren’t a big deal, no matter how nasty they look. Not compared to the gash on his side, at least.

You wince when you see it, the delicate flesh torn open and ragged. The cut makes you think it’s from some man-made weapon, and you shake your head in disbelief. Who would want to harm a merman? Around here, it would be blasphemous to do such a thing.

Blood no longer seeps from the wound; you hope that’s a good sign—and that the salt water has somewhat cleaned the area. You think it may have needed stitches, but you’re no doctor with the ability to do such a procedure. If you're being honest with yourself, it’s probably far too late for stitches anyway. The wound would be another nasty scar, likely similar to the one marring his face, but the area isn’t red with infection. That’s a good sign, right?

You sigh, feeling helpless. You want to do something for the creature. There’s only one thing you can really think of. Chewing on your bottom lip, you study his face again. He still seems unresponsive, and you can only hope he stays that way a little longer.

The short trek back up to your home feels the longest it’s ever been, and your legs and lungs are burning by the time you rush through the front door, having run the entire way. You heave in breaths as you pack some supplies into a bag. It wasn’t much, but you should be able to use the waterproof gauze and antibiotic ointment to dress the nasty-looking scrapes on his hands and chest.

You hesitate for a moment before going into your bathroom and grabbing the waterproof pillow you had in the tub. Maybe it was silly, but you hated thinking about him lying on the hard ground for fuck knows how long. You almost grab some food for him—maybe the fish currently thawing in your fridge—but you decide not to. You weren’t sure what he ate, and there was no telling when he’d wake up anyway.

Your breathing has just settled back to normal by the time you’re jogging back to the cave, careful not to slip on any of the wet grass and rocks. The sun starts to peak out of the morning clouds, letting pale beams of light warm the grey morning. The cavern is illuminated slightly better when you enter; you find you can lay the flashlight at a distance and see just fine.

The merman is still asleep, and you feel a little relieved. You aren’t exactly sure what will happen when he wakes up—for all you know, you’ll return later in the day to find him gone. As it is, you plop down next to the pool he was in and get to work patching him up the best you can.

Taking the towel you brought with you, you dab at his scrapes, trying to dry them a little before applying the ointment and then carefully using the gauze to cover the wounds. His palms are so torn up that you wrap them completely, your brows knitted the entire time. It must hurt, but still, he doesn’t stir.

Finally, you’re left with the gash in his side. You debate with yourself as to whether you should cover it or not—if you even can. The front of his torso was out of the water with the way he was laying, but that could change at any second, and any real pressure on his body would cause him to sink into the pool.

Your urge to help him wins out in the end, and you decide you’ll try to bandage it to protect it from any further irritation, despite knowing water would seep in regardless. You lean forward, extra careful not to lose your balance as you pat at his pale skin with the towel once more. It’s an awkward angle and slow work, you trying your best to be gentle with him.

You add as much ointment as you dare to the bandaging, not wanting to put too much onto an open wound, before fixing the gauze to his torso with some waterproof medical tape. There. Sure, it wasn’t going to work a miracle but at this point you weren’t sure what else to do.

He’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’ll be okay.

You take a moment to watch the rise and fall of his chest, reassured by the movement. Your gaze again drifts to his tail in fascination—you hope that, maybe, you’ll come back later and he’ll be awake. Maybe he’ll be friendly, maybe the two of you can talk. It’s illogical, you know. This wasn’t some fairytale, this was real life. You honestly just hoped he didn’t try to rip you to shreds on sight.

It’s with this thought in mind that you shift away from him, telling yourself you can’t sit and watch him all day. You have several other pools to collect mussels from, breakfast to cook, chores to do. You’ve done enough, and you have to trust that his body will do the rest—you refuse to entertain the idea that he might not make it.

Sighing, you pull yourself further away, but then remember the pillow you’d brought along. You grab it quickly before shuffling back towards him. He’s got a large lump of seaweed shoved haphazardly under his head in what you assume was a desperate attempt to soften the rock face underneath.

His damp hair is surprisingly soft when you gently lift his head to clear the ground of debris. You can’t help but run your fingers through it gently, brushing it behind his ears, almost trying to soothe his subconscious. You settle the small foam pillow in place, and slowly let his head and neck rest against it. You hope it makes some sort of difference, though you know it might be a childish thought.

Your task finished, you force yourself away from him once more, even though you suddenly ache to continue touching him. Picking up your things, you continue on your mission of prying mussels from each tidepool. You move slower and quieter than you normally would, shooting the merman furtive glances every few seconds.

By the time you’re finished with the last pool, you can’t find an excuse to linger any longer. He was as safe as he was going to be. The only thing left to do now was wait. You spare your new charge one last lingering look, then grab your things and head back to the house.

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

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[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 112 & 113 (part 2)

I hate that this chapter is cut... mainly cuz it deals with the most “ horribly presented” theme in furuba anime.... grief.

-The shame of grieving: “ Rarely discussed theme in Literature”:

When a love one dies... ppl differ in how they deal with it. Some cry their hearts out, some become depressed & painfully lonely, others get angry or cynical, some might deny it, some move on quickly, others move on but years after the realization crushes them, others stay still... Above all, you feel ashamed of yourself if you didn’t move on or if you DID move on.. “ Sometimes ppl around you judge you for it... for your grief”

The later is the theme of these two chapters. Rarely discussed themes & it saddens me that it is cut. You see, Furuba anime doesn’t get grief  at all. To them, it’s a small part of the generic protagonist after she finishes her job of nurturing the real main protagonist. Mothers are strong, they help us cross the bridge between childhood & adulthood. Tohru, the show’s mom, did it so thoroughly & in slow visual & narrative details for yuki. Afterwards, the anime brushed whatever is left of her character, which the anime viewed as sheer suspenseful drama, & collected it thro 3rd person story-telling techniques in one ep “ se3, ep6″ & excessive monologue for 10 minutes in se3, ep9.

In this chapter, Kakeru, a side character, sheds light into this theme. Kakeru didn’t lose a parent by death, didn’t grieve, has no dependent familial bonds with either dead parents “ kyoko & komaki’s dad”. Yet, kakeru stood & judged tohru on how she “ should” grieve. Harshly tearing her down while she’s standing there lonely, trying to hide her shock at the loss of her only pillar in life, broken & traumatized, dealing with the pushed down traumatic feelings from her past where her mom abandoned her as a child..now her mom did it again, this time thro death.. & kakeru, rightfully not knowing all that, but wrongfully lecturing her on how to behave... kakeru isn’t a monster, but he only saw what he wanted: komaki & how the world should grieve with his lover, how he should be the hero protecting her. So self-centered, insensitive, horribly cruel & unbelievably conceited, but above all... what he did is so sadly common... it hurts.

-Judging Grieving People:

As I said many times.. grief is so personal, so unique to the person & as common as it is, so misunderstood. According to kakeru & many ppl I’ve sopken to lately, tohru should have acknowledged komaki. Komaki, the not-traumatized version of tohru, did the right “ tohru-like” thing. Not only felt sadness at the loss of her own dad, but found it in her heart to visit the other orphan, tohru, & give condolences & respect to the dead mother. Such kindness & purity. Very deserving of applaud: To not only see your pain but others’ as well. Tohru has always done the “ right, kind” thing to other ppl. When she can’t now, the author brought another “ tohru” to do the “ right, kind” thing.

Kakeru is so many ppl. During my brother’s funeral. I’ve heard so many gossip on how my mom should’ve stood tall & greeted the visitors.” Being silent , emotionless & non-responsive is not how you show visitors you value their kind words”, they said. How his widow should’ve collected herself & acted properly, respected his memory by taking proper care of herself & her kids. “Being a broken mess is not how you “ honor” loved one”, they said. Kakeru is indeed many ppl & that’s how you discuss a theme by creating characters who sin, screw up & be cruel, even if momentarily.

Kakeru is wrong. There is no “ you should have” in grief. There is no ounce of truth in his demeaning lecture to tohru & I respect komaki for her reaction to him so much. Kakeru did learn & grew from it, apologized to tohru even if he didn’t actually sought her to do so & even if she herself started the apology. But you see, these two chapters are 90% focused on kakeru as a character, his growth, thoughts, the mini focus on his relationship with komaki as an example of healthy relationship & all that is another lesson for yuki to observe & learn. He learned abt tohru’s past, kakeru’s personality & growth & got to observe another example of romantic relationship so yuki can grow as a man & approach machi healthily. But then again... nothing at all stops yuki/machi from being healthy, no past issues, no contradicting personalities “ they’re quite similar” & yuki is the only furuba character that doesn’t screw up big. He learns & teaches. He’s the personification of the author.

-Tohru.. stays a “ tohru”:

Tohru’s part is 10% of the this chapter which is fine as I think/hope it will lead into more tohru depth in the following chapters. But It is for this reason I’m glad this chapter was cut in the 13 eps season of furuba anime, cuz tohru doesnt have much depth in the anime due to the quick wrap up & the la~~~~st  thing I want is another 3rd person story-telling flashback abt tohru in the anime. Honestly, one of the most frustrating aspect to me of the anime & I’ll hold judgement abt manga- tohru till I reach its end. So far~~~ Tohru’s depth & character exploration gets better one chapter, then regress the next one, then moves on, the... it’s a fluctuating process. It has nothing to do with tohtu’s feelings.

you’ see ... kyo himself as a character with issues fluctuates a lot, he does sth good, then does sth bad, chooses right words, then makes a horrible mistake & chooses wrong! which is one of the most well-done aspects of character exploration that is rarely attempted by authors! I highly respect Takaya-san for what she’s doing with kyo in the manga so far. Other authors show us a character doing one big mistake & then he/she learns from it in a dramatic way. But Takaya-san, nope! she decided to approach it in a very human way, making us be frustrated with kyo’s repeated mistakes yet understands where he’s coming from! kudos to her!!

But I’m not yet satisfied with how tohru is portrayed in the manga & this has nothing to do with tohru’s character. Takaya-san is discussing rare themes thro tohru’s character. But what I mean is how tohru is approached thro the viewers/readers eyes. I wont judge until the last chapter. but this is the part that is frustrating to me.

Side Notes:

The flow of the 2 chapters is little off. We go back & forth between the past & the present, between yuki-machi & komaki-kakeru. Again, I’m so glad the anime cut it cuz, nope! they can’t handle such narrative. they’ll reorder it in a such heavily monologing way & insert the comedy abruptly to lighten the mood. Just look at how the comedy is inserted in momiji’s se03 ep!

Komaki is such a tohru with a sprinkle of kagura’s very softened outbursts. lol. she’s fun!

I’m liking yuki-machi interactions a lot. no drama, which is why the anime cut it -_-’, but it progresses healthily. Machi is yuki’s third-stage growth after (1) leaving tohru’s nest (baby yuki), (b) making friends with kakeru/someone who gets him (young boy yuki), (3) finding romantic love (being a man). The anime was so interested in the 2 stages above cuz that’s where the drama is & cut the third. Honestly, the anime didn’t have to include everything as there is never a space in 13 eps, but they certainly could’ve squeezed few panels or even made brand new very short yuki-machi scenes. but the anime weirdly decided after yuki “ saved” machi from her trauma by talking with her in her apartment, he should just marry her.... lol.. that’s why next scene is ep 5 momiji’s ep intro montage where yuki was abt to confess!!! making yuki-machi the least developed couple in the anime!

I love all furuba’s characters, but yuki, tohru, kyo & akito carry the big themes, therefore, I not only analyze their characters, but how the themes are presented thro them & how their presentation affects such themes. This might make it sound as I hate them or am harsh on them. not at all. It is the anime director/ manga author that I’m positively or negatively criticizing most times. Most importantly, my criticism is not the law. It’s just my perspective & my consumption of the material. Feel free to differ with me. I dont mind it. It brings interesting discussions!

When it comes to tohru’s issues... his chapter introduced nothing new. We have seen/read in canon repeatedly that tohru hides her pain behind a smile (heck! even kisa knows that & told us), that she cant stand up for herself much, that she smiles for other ppl not for herself. All this was presented thro so many characters already, which is why I understand the anime’s decision to cut it. What’s new? that yuki didn know tohru’s smile is mostly a mask & that kakleru has depth.

I love this chapter for the grieving themes it discussed that are rarely touched upon in literature, but since such themes are rarely presented, the anime’s decision to cut it, ironically proves my point! lol . They don’t get grief & so, they reduced it to se03 content & two eps worth. sad.. but expected. The anime is indeed another form of “past” kakeru: seeing one side of grieving person. The happy side.

[gringolet]

INTRO TO ARTHURIANA MASTERPOST

under the cut for absurd length

HOW TO GET STARTED WITH ARTHURIANA

The Arthuriana fandom is very broad and there's no one piece of media, which can be confusing for people just getting into it! There’s no right way to engage with arthuriana, and no minimum level of knowledge or reading you need to attain to qualify. 

The basis of the Arthurian Legend is a body of hundreds of texts written across the medieval and early Renaissance period in dozens of languages and cultural traditions. Which can seem pretty overwhelming, but there are a lot of modern vernacular translations-- you absolutely don’t have to learn old French or anything. I’ll go more in depth on where to get started with texts further down.

You also don’t have to read texts at all. As I said, there is no minimum basis-- if you prefer to engage with modern adaptations, or want to engage with medieval arthuriana outside of reading texts, that's also cool! 

In terms of modern adaptations there is a wealth of choices, which I am very much not an expert in lol, so I’m afraid I can’t give much in the way of reccs. Books I have heard good things about are, Exiled from Camelot, Idylls of the Queen, The Buried Giant, the Squire's Tale series, and Gawain by Gwen Rowley (warning that this one is apparently erotica? Good for him). I trust @princesslibs  for modern book reccomendations. and if you speak French Kaamelott is purportedly a very good tv show. Frankly no modern adaptation will ever be better than Spamalot to me, but that's just my personal take. 

If you are curious about engaging with texts but (understandably) don’t want to read a ton of dense medieval literature, one really cool resource is Norris J Lacy's New Arthurian Encyclopedia, which you can pick up at most used bookstores for under ten bucks. It’s a very thorough easy to look through reference of characters stories and texts. I know a lot of people like the Nightbringer wiki, though I personally am wary of it because it basically never cites sources. It’s a good quick reference though and a lot of people like it, I’d just take it with a grain of salt. Sparknotes also has a lot of summaries of the major texts like Le Morte D’Arthur and the romances of Chrétien De Troyes. You are not a fake fan for doing this I promise. And of course you’re always welcome to send me an ask <3 

Finally, getting started with texts. Quick glossary of terms:

--Verse Romance

    A verse (poem) story which can vary a great deal in length. These deal with the adventures of individual knights, usually Gawain, and tend to have a great deal of magical elements and the stereotypical monster slaying, questing, damosel rescuing knight adventures.

--Prose Novel or Romance

    A non poetic narrative, more like a modern novel, more likely to deal with the fall of Arthur, sword in the stone, Mordred, fall of Camelot sort of affair. They are usually quite long. Most famous of these are Le Morte D’Arthur and the French Vulgate, but there are a slew of late medieval Prose novels floating around. Eluding Rey.

--Pseudohistory

    I’m gonna b real these are boring I think. These are, as the name suggests, written as accurate depictions of history.  They very much are not, but they claim to be. Most famous of these is Jeffrey of Monmouth, Mr Jeff Mouth himself, and his History of the Kings of Britain, which I haven’t read because it bores me. You can if you want. It’s in Latin. Whatever. These tend to be some of the earliest texts, and include the “lives of saints” stories. Life of Gildas is the only funny one.

--Ballads

    These are only arguably texts, as most of them were written after the time of the “canon” being composed. But I like them. These are songs telling stories, recorded by people like Francis Child and Thomas Percy. They are very short and fun and include stories like The Boy and the Mantle, Kempion, and King Arthur and the King of Cornwall.

--Lai

    A specific type of French verse poem, usually quite short. The most famous collection of lais are those of Marie le France, including things like Bisclavret and Lanval. 

--Traditions

    Since Arthuriana was written all over, there are different literary traditions across time and space. The French tradition is one of the most famous, including works like the vulgate, Chretien and a lot of verse romances. The English tradition is one of the most influential on modern adaptations, including the Morte D’Arthur and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. There are also Welsh, German, Dutch, Hebrew, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Tagalog, Greek, Belarussian, Scottish, Irish, Breton, and probably even more. There’s a lot. It’s very cool and sexy.

A note that there is also a big tradition of Victorian revival Arthuriana. I wrote a starter guide to that here, it’s all very fun and like, aesthetic. 

Alright, now, which texts do you start with?

If you’re a little intimidated by long texts or medieval lit, starting with short verse romances in modern translation is a great place to start. These include Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which is very good and gay and well known, Lancelot and the Hart With The White Foot, which is very good and gay and underappreciated, or Lanval, which is homophobic but funny. 

If you want to start with what is considered the oldest King Arthur Story, Culwch and Olwen is short and fun!

If you want to read about the grail quest, you can start where it started with Story of the Grail or Percival, then the four continuations, Essenbachs Parzival, the vulgate version of the Grail quest which you can buy paperback for like 5 bucks (I can also scan my copy for you just shoot me an ask <3)

If you want to read about the fall of camelot, I have the Vulgate death of Arthur section scanned here. There’s also the Alliterative and Stanzaic mortes, which are in middle English. I have scanned Simon Armitage's Alliterative Morte translation here. I’m working on my own translation of the Stanzaic but it’s not done lol. If you want the first third or so DM me lol. King Artus is very short and readable and it’s a Jewish text which is really cool.

If you want to read about Lancelot, Chrétien de Troyes Lancelot is his first text. He also has a whole long vulgate section, the first part is scanned here by val <3, and there's Lanzelet,  Sebile is in it so it’s probably very good. He’s also basically the main character of Le Morte D’Arthur which I might as well talk about here uhm. It’s long and fun in places and boring in others but it does have like the version most modern adaptations take from and tells the whole story of Arthur and Camelot from beginning to end. The Keith Baines version scanned by val is the most readable but it is an abridgement I believe. people who like le morte usually read this version so its probably the best choice lol

If you want to read about Gawain, good news! He’s in basically everything. Even texts that aren’t supposed to be about Gawain are doomed to become The Gawain Show Featuring The Protagonist Of This Text As A Sidekick. Which is so funny of him. The Roman Van Walewein is very funny and long and Gawain™. I also recommend, L’atre Perilous, Diu Krone, Sir Gawain and the Turk, and I could go on but for brevity's sake let's start there. 

If you want to read about Tristan, go shoot an ask to Valentine @lanzelet on tumblr because Tristan scares me. 

Thank you to rey @gawain-in-green for helping me find links and put this together! They are also a super great resource for stuff and very cool and nice <3 They have a tag on their blog for full text resources so deffo look at that if you want more scans and links, and an info tag and tons of cool shit that is way better organized than my blog lol

Okay finishing this off, if you want content warnings for any texts, feel free to shoot an ask! I know medieval lit can be A Lot and there aren’t a lot of good warning systems, so if I’ve read it or know someone who has I can give you warnings if you want to read something but are understandably wary . <3

In terms of tagging, Arthuriana and Arthurian Legend are the main ones on tumblr. Arthurian Mythology is also used but tbh shouldn’t be. On Ao3, we’re trying to get our own Arthurian Literature tag but <3 its a whole thing. Anyway the tag is Arthurian Mythology, but I’ll b real, it’s kind of flooded with stuff that doesn’t really belong there, because even though it’s a fandom tag other people unknowingly tag stuff as Arthurian Mythology when it’s like, a knight au. Which is not their fault bc it’s confusing but, ah, alas. ANyhow, feel free to drop in my inbox anytime with questions, suggestions, reccs, etc!

Okay godspeed!! Have fun reading, watching, browsing, etc!