#yea sure this can go on the art blog

[short-for-jules]

[martyrbat]

[ID: The title panel for 'The Bat-man' and 'The Case of the Chemical Syndicate'. In it, a mysterious silhouette is standing on a rooftop as they look out at the skyscrapers in the background. The silhouette has giant wings that resembles a bat! They flare out on each side of the figure as their human-esque legs and head stick out from it. The sky is light blue as the narration explains: The "Bat-man", a mysterious and adventurous figure fighting for righteousness and apprehending the wrongdoer, in his lone battle against the evil forces of society… His identity remains unknown. END ID]

detective comics #27 | (#627 reprint)

(full comic & ID below cut!)

[ID:

We see a young man sitting in a blue chair and smoking a pipe as an older man sits across from him. The narration reads: The home of Commissioner Gordon, who at the moment is entertaining his young socialite friend, Bruce Wayne. — Bruce is wearing an amber, windowpane checked suit and has his black hair neatly combed back. Gordon, the older man with silver hair and glasses, wears a white suit with black lines forming a herringbone pattern across it. Bruce has his chin resting against his palm in boredom as he asks, "Well, commissioner, anything exciting happening these days?" Gordon responds, "No-o – except this fellow they call the 'Bat-man' puzzles me!" He's interrupted by his phone ringing.

Gordon talks into the phone, "Hello… What's that? Lambert, The Chemical King… Stabbed to death? His son's finger prints on the knife? – I'll be right over!" He hangs up the phone and tells Bruce, "Talk about something exciting… Old Lambert has been murdered at his mansion… I'm going there now. Like to come along?" Bruce nonchalantly says, "Oh well, nothing else to do, might as well." They speed off to Lambert's residence, where they greet the police sergeant. He leads them to the scene of the crime and after a thorough examination, Gordon begins to talk to the murder suspect: 'Young' Lambert, who's already insisting that he wasn't the one that killed his father!

Gordon orders the distressed man to calm down and explain what happened. Young Lambert wipes at his forehead nervously as he reluctantly elucidates, "Well sir… Tonight I came home early, and as I was passing the library I heard a groan... I rushed in and there was my father lying on the floor, with a knife in him! … And as I rushed in, I got the impression of something leaping out of the window… I also noticed that father's safe was opened… I pulled the knife out of my father's body, and turned him toward me just in time to hear him say 'contract'... And then he died. That's how I got my fingerprints on the knife… That's the truth, commissioner!" Two panels accompany Young Lambert's words. It shows him finding his father's body by the open window before cradling his father close to him. 'Old' Lambert vaguely warns his son about the contract before dying in his arms.

Gordon raises his hand to his chin in thought before asking, "Hmm! Did your dad have any enemies or people who had an interest in his business activities?" The man hesitantly answers, "... not that I know of, except his three former business partners... Let's see, they were Steven Crane, Paul Rogers and Alfred Stryker." Before Gordon can continue to question him, he's interrupted by another cop. He's alerted, "Commissioner, there's a man named Steve Crane who wants to speak to Old Lambert... When I told him that Old Lambert was murdered he got very excited and wanted to speak to you!"

Gordon takes the phone and asks what's the trouble. Crane hastily explains, "Yesterday, Mr. Lambert called and told me he received an anonymous threat on his life... today I received the same... That's why I called up... and I'm afraid I'll be next... what shall I do?" Gordon orders, "Wait… And do not let anybody in… We'll be over soon as we can – what's that, Bruce?" He hangs up as Bruce Wayne's actions distract him. Bruce – who's been silently observing this whole time – smacks his tobacco pipe against his open palm, dumping the ashes onto the floor of the crime scene. He apathetically announces, "Ho hum! I'll leave you here to finish your work… I'm going home."

Meanwhile, Crane sits in his home library with a feeling of impending danger as he waits… Before a gunman suddenly breaks in! He shoots Crane dead without hesitation before stealing a paper from his safe and leaving through the window! He joins his partner on the roof, who checks if the murderer got the paper. The narration reads: ... As the two men leer over their conquest, they do not notice a third menacing figure standing behind them… It is the "Bat-Man!" — The cowardly criminals recoil in shock at the masked man. He wears a cowl that conceals the top half of his face and has bat like ears sticking out. His arms are crossed as he broadly stands with his legs spread. On his chest is a bat emblem and he has a big, dramatic cape draped from his shoulders that flare out – it too resembling a bat.

But suddenly the Bat-Man punches the accompanying partner, knocking him unconscious! He grabs the murderer in a headlock and with a mighty heave, he sends the burly criminal flying through the air and off the roof! Commissioner Gordon and his men are just arriving at the scene – the commissioner announcing it's the Bat-Man and to 'get him', prompting the other cops to start firing at the mysterious stranger! The Bat-Man flees from the scene at once, but not before quickly snatching the paper the criminals stole from Crane's safe!

He escapes to his red sedan and reads the paper he took from the killers before a grim smile stretches across his lips. He speeds off to an unknown destination! During which, the butler informs Gordon and his men that Crane has been murdered. Gordon tells another cop, "That's two dead partners out of the four that received threatening notes. The other two must have received them too… Let's go to Rogers next!"

Meanwhile Rogers, who has learned of Lambert's death by news broadcast, has already gone to the neighboring laboratory of his erstwhile partner, Alfred Stryker… — Rogers greets Stryker's assistant, Jennings. Jennings invites the distraught man inside before clubbing him in the head and tying him up in the laboratory's basement! Jennings schemes to himself, "Heh! Heh! One more out of the way – soon I'll control everything!"

Rogers wakes to find himself in a trap and calls Jennings a fiend! Jennings laughs again as he taunts, "This is the gas-chamber I use to kill guinea pigs, to experiment with – but now you are my guinea pig! When the glass lid covers you entirely, gas will come through the jet and kill you! I'm going down now to turn the gas on… Sleep well!" he leaves with one last giggle and with a pull of the brake to cause the glass chamber to start to descend!

But at that very moment, the Bat-Man jumps through an open transom! He seizes a wrench from a table and leaps for the gas-chamber, barely managing to get inside before it seals itself against the floor! Swiftly, the Bat-Man plugs the gas jet with a handkerchief. He unties Rogers and with a powerful swing, he uses the wrench to break the glass!

Jennings returns and is startled at seeing the Bat-Man! He reaches for his gun but the masked vigilante 'greets' him with a flying tackle and punch, knocking the murderous assistant unconscious!

Meanwhile, Stryker has heard the crash of the gas-chamber being broken. He enters the laboratory and finds Rogers and his assistant, failing to notice the Bat-Man has secluded himself in the shadows. Rogers exclaims that Stryker's assistant tried to kill him! Stryker responds, "So he didn't get you after all… Well, I'll finish you and then throw your body in the acid tank below." He pulls a knife and goes to attack Rogers before the Bat-Man springs into action!

He grabs Stryker's hand harshly, forcing him to drop the knife in shock! Rogers asks the masked man why did Stryker try to kill him as the Bat-Man holds the would-be murderer by his collar to prevent his escape. He explains, "This rat was behind the murders! You see, I learned that you, Lambert, Crane, and Stryker were once partners in the Apex Chemical Corporation. Stryker, who wished to be sole owner, but having no ready cash made secret contracts with you, to pay a certain sum of money each year until he owned the business. He figured by killing you and stealing the contracts, he wouldn't have to pay this money."

Rogers can't help but to admire, "Hmm, a very clever scheme, and being the contracts were a strict secret between the four of us, our heirs or the outside world wouldn't know a thing about them… But how did you know all this?" The Bat-Man pulls a rolled up piece of paper out of nowhere before simply stating, "I secured this contract from one of his hired killers."

Suddenly, Stryker, with the strength of a madman, tears himself free from the grasp of the Bat-Man… — He shoves himself away in an attempted escape but the Bat-Man knocks him off-balance with a right hook punch to the man's face! He stumbles backwards and crashes through the flimsy railing, falling into the tank of acid. Bat-Man solemnly remarks that it's 'a fitting ending for his kind'. Rogers turns to the mysterious man, starting to ask how could he ever thank him, but the Bat-Man is already fleeing by the skylight window.

The next day, young Bruce Wayne is again a visitor at the commissioner's house… Who has just finished telling Bruce the latest exploits of the "Bat-Man". — Bruce is skeptical of the story, telling Gordon, "Hmm! A very lovely fairy-tale, commissioner, indeed." After Bruce departs, the commissioner mumbles to himself, "Bruce Wayne is a nice young chap – but he certainly must lead a boring life… Seems disinterested in everything."

Bruce returns to his home and goes to his bedroom. A short while later, the door slowly opens, revealing to us Bruce Wayne's greatest secret and something that would surely amaze all… That he himself is the Bat-Man!

END ID]

[thecomicallytragicgangle]

[It is done]

[mod note: this is temporarily replacing the link to magma (the art drawing thing we have so we can draw together!) as pinned post so heres the link: https://magma.com/d/zzg8vd99i2]

[the reason gangle isnt included is because she went to go get snacks totally not because i forgot to draw her. nope]

[credits to shard anon, @theoneandonlysun, and the mod of zooble's blog for majority help! @eeboshmeebo also contributed to the art!!][if you helped with the art and you wanna be credited, message me please, because i might've missed you? a lot of people swung by i just wanna make sure i credit them all]

[behold....]

[TA DAH!!! below the read more thing is the list of people featured + pings (sorry yall, i just wanna make sure you see art,,)]

[btw, bonus: @easton-likes-sandwiches my bad i couldn't include you (since easton is kinda. not in digital land.) but here ya go, a bonus!]

1: @rook-specter [i hope i drew you correctly, i couldn't really find a sona to use]

2: @the-moth-from-elsewhere [btw i know you wanted to add details but imo i think it looks fine like this,,thanks for some of the help and support, though!!]

3: pickle anon [unsure if they have a blog, so i can't @]

4: shard anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog, but they helped alot!! ty ty]

5: @unfunnyaceartist [OK i know you only appeared for a bit but you agreed to move night.,,and your sona looks cool..so..obilgatory appearance in the art!]

6: @sugarcane-soup [I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO COLOR YOUR SONA,,i hope i did well]

7: @zooooble [zoob...]

8 and 9: [@askobjects firey and leafy look so goofy in this image,, i hope you like them]

10: @sign-anon [in the middle of drawing this i did NOT know sign anon died..whoops?]

11: @boldtextanon [bold text anon is fine guys. Hes fine. i swear]

12: @yougotjinx3d [mage anon and vamp anon were drawn by sun if i remember correctly, so erm..ya!! they're silly people]

13: @bloodforvampanon [me when i GET YOU. but fr. silly guy]

14: crownon! [unsure if they have a blog, but erm..crow]

15: eepy anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog..they literally look so silly its crazy]

16: rat [you know who you are /silly]

17: @gummy-axolotl [I HOPE I GOT THE COLORS RIGHT,,HERE YOU GO!!!]

18: @liloblogs [im gonna be fr we got this close to confusing lilo with juko,,,im not very great at oc lore. but lilo is so silly]

19: panic anon! [i think they're also the same blog as lilo? unsure. but yea!! they are goofy and silly and probably terrified of the horror movies]

20: @justadustymoth [MOTh. moth,,,,, moths are so silly. like. fr..]

21: bow anon! [idk if you have a blog but i hope you like the design!!!!]

22: @squirrelboi [I DIDNT KNOW IF YOU HAD A SONA SO I USED YOUR PFP...I HOPE THATS OKAY]

23: @eeboshmeebo [there was barely any room so i could only include a mask,,but i hope thats okay!! also ty for help on the mask]

24: @kiwidragon [I HOPE I DREW THE DRAGON OK..IVE NEVER DRAWN DRAGONS HGHJFJFJF AND IDK THE SIZE COMPARISON..]

25: FISH. ANON.. [you got included last minute HGKDHJSHJSHS but . fish]

26: @lightthepathwithalantern [i hope i drew lantern anon okay,,,they're so cool looking,,,]

27: @spapman [I ALSO HOPE I DREW YOUR SONA OKAY,,, AHHFHGFHDHJD

28: @ru-bwee [thank you for. the plush images. I will use them to mark important events /silly]

29: @bob-the-cemetery-ghost [Oh no,,,also i hope you dont mind being a bit in the background i didnt know how else to include youuu]

[literal walls of text,,hope yall dont mind all the @]

[THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING HERE,,HGHDJSJDFDD!!!!]

[erm,,if yall don't mind,,i hate asking but reblogs please ? i wanna see the art around !!!!]

[little-critters-snips]

THIS IS FOR ANON!!!! WHO COULDNT GET TO ME ON THIS BLOG AND HAD TO GO TO MY MAIN FOR THE ASK. (I honeslty forgot my apologies you can now ask questions with anon on)

THANK U SO MUCH I AM IN TEARS thank u ive tried so hard them well im so happy you like them guhghgh.......TEARS. i actually have quite a lot planned in drawings and """""""""jokes""""""""" so yea expect more to come.

also weed smoker catnap lives rent free in my head i swear, and hoppy is GREEN like WEED GREEN. IM SO GLAD YO LIKED MY JOKE ARGHG.....yes, make a fanfic, make them barely functional teen-barely adults please pleaseee. hehehe i love that you find comics and art inspiring hehe

honestly catnap is based off a few experiences ive had with friends lol. but yes, dogday asks himself everyday what the FUCK is wrong with his best friend.

AND BOBBY WAS SO FUCKING DIFFICULT TO DRAW THIS IS SO SWEET. ALSO THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS!!!! i know bc iSAW THEM KISS!!!!!

yES. EMO DOGDAY. i LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS HEADCANON TO MYSELF AND I CAN FINALLY JUST.......TALK. he would be such a teenage dirtbag he also still listens to my chemical romance religiously, also i didnt actually show anything but teenage catnap has braces and exclusively listened to vocaloid................... catnap and dogday being childhood bestfriends is a dynamic i hold close to my heart. !!!

dogday would die for catnap. dogday would also not give a sinlge dorito to catnap. it the BROMANCE. its "dude you are so beautiful you outshine the morning sunrise" and then catnap tries to drown dogday in a pool for a ""PRANK"".

thank you so much you are incredibly sweet!! i actually love when people ask for more content!! so excited you like it i was sure i was going to be posting for me and me alone honestly but seeing people enjoy what i draw??????????????? i am literally jumping up and down LMAO

i am actually starting classes soon and i have to prepare to postulate to art school and shit. but, i do asure you that ill keep making content hehehe even if a few doodles, i just really love these characters. if you have any ideas or make a fanfic i would love to read it and even draw some scenes!!!! i jsut really want to participate in this fandom LOL

you are so kind to me! you have a wonderful day too!!!

[melimelotus]

Just so you know, tumblr is currently using any art posted on this website for AI training, and the only way to stop them from using your own art is to go into your settings and turn off 'Third Party Sharing' manually (you have to do it for each blog you have)

Yea I had heard about that, it's such a stupid and disrespectful move. Like sure, come and post your art on our website, we will voluntarily feed it into AI training so that it can be copied and then some random dudes can call themselves artists for getting the AI to spit it back with a few prompt lines. this is a default setting ♥ we do not guarantee the ai companies will respect you opting out of it by the way. or that they won't keep the data we've already given them. but we are getting soo much money out of it 🥺 or something

[thatonesalmonlingnamedspike]

welcome :D

(images above is not mine, it's an art req by @pokimoko[a cool person :D]!) (i will hold onto these forever tysm dude)

(also AUDHD OCTOLING SQUID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

(tw!!! I swear here(got that American and Scottish in my dumb self), if you don't like it, you should probably go!!! I don't wanna make people sad :<) 🦑 ★ this abt me temp is by @electricalstemplatesᔦꙬᔨ—!! ╰━ Name: Spike ↭ Age: not telling but here's a hint: I cannot drive a car┊🎮 Pronouns: any! she/her is preferred tho!!! ﹅ __gender: Transfem | orient: lesbian__ꕀ🏆 ✮ l [link]() 🔫➜ I (surprisingly)have a gf who likes to be called Eight/Agent 8!!!↯ . . ੭ ⁠くコ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

⁠ C⁠:⁠彡 C⁠:⁠彡 C⁠⁠:⁠彡 C⁠⁠:⁠彡 hello, I'm Spike! you can call me Goldie if you want, too. i go by any pronouns! i have ADHD so i may forget to do things... if i do, remind me! ;-;

cake day: jan 19 :D

a furry/avian/lgbtq+ safe space! (if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, please tell me!!! I don't wanna make you feel that way!!!!)

i am opening art requests again after like 3 months lol i can draw:

pfps

ocs(that aren't complicated)

memes

reaction images

art prompts

please send asks on @askbfdicharactersorocs i wanna draw objects more

Bubble rp blog! @thebubblebfb!

SINCE THE @ ISNT WORKING, here's a link to my Black Hole rp blog!!

you can also find me on: Roblox Wattpad Beta.Character.AI Scratch Reddit Twitter/X

here's Root Beer V3!

about the Salmonling:

ROOT BEER?!?!/!(REAL)(AT 3 AM) :000000000

nicknames:

Spike - yea sure, anybody can call me this Salmonoid - it's salmonling, but they get mixed up often so yea :) Salmonling - sure :) Golden Egg: godamnit 8 I will get you back for that (she kept calling me this when we were at a cafe and due to me having the 'ability' to get embarrased easily of a glass ant with broken legs I was a blushing mess for the rest of the time I was with her--) THING - w h y d o y o u c a l l m e t h i s Person - ok???????? Root Beer - go for it :D Spika - this one's your fault irl fren/silly Pika - other sona's name so ye :D Asteroid - old roblox name, ye :D Asriel/Alphys - my kin so ye :) legal name - big no-no >:( Any other silly little nicknames: go for it!

i run a BFDI/TPOT/II ask blog called @askbfdicharactersorocs! if you wanna ask stuff there, to to that :D i also have a blog that just puts Root Beer in random ass places that y'all ask me for called @puttingrootbeerinplaces!

i'm a young artist trying to build my following on Tumblr! I draw many things, including;

-{memes(sometimes)}- -{CHANGED}- -{Bugsnax}- -{fanart(sometimes)}- -{Battle for BFDI/TPOT}- -{Mysterious Object Super Show}- -{Otherworldy Ravenous Beast}- -{Animated Inanimate Battle}- -{Open Source Objects}- -{Excellent Extraordinary Entities}- -{Beautiful Ultimate Really Never Ending Realm}- -{The Daily Object Show}- -{The Nightly Manor}- -{Inanimate Insanity Invitational}- -{and other object shows!}- -{smaller game characters}- -{splatoon}- -{transfurs}- -{My own OCS}- -{UNDERTALE}- -{Cookie Run}-

and more to come in the future! my blog is mainly for wholesome content cuz do a lot of meme/just straight up wholesome art.

i'm alright with nsfw art of my ocs although i wont draw any nsfw myself. i'm not ready yet...

my asks are always open, I would love to answer questions for you all on both accounts! :D

my account isin't that active with posts since i often forget to finish or just start another drawing...

i appreciate likes and reblogs and I would love for you all to follow me on my adventure through Tumblr! be sure to stick around for stuff like work in progress animations and artwork. <3

birthday: jan 19 :D

fav colors: 💜purple💜 💙blue💙 💖pink💖

Interests:

Object Shows

Memes

Spongebob(ik sounds generic but yea i love that show)

Pokemon

Minecraft

Splatoon

Roblox: @mayab3020

UNDERTALE

Bugsnax

Cookie Run: Kingdom

kin:

Remote (Tpot/Bfb)

Asriel (UNDERTALE)

Alphys (UNDERTALE)

Ash Ketchum (Pokemon)

thank you for reading :>

aughs-ajofoijeijvdv

[halfusek]

Imma be honest with you, before BATDR came out, you literally held this fandom together with bandaids and stick glue. 2019-2022 was basically the dry age of Bendy content

haha thanks i tried my best

i Do enjoy being in a fandom, i've always looked up to the danny phantom phandom a lot cause the vibes there are just fantastic, there's a lot of things going on, people have many interactions with each other, so i wanted to try to introduce that to the batim fandom and i'd like to think that i sorta did

i know that it is a popular opinion to not engage with a large portion of the fandom but instead just grab a few friends and sit in a corner with them but like

engaging with a bigger portion of the fandom every now and then can be SO fun and give people an opportunity to meet other people and idk

fandoms are communities of people just united by liking A Thing so it can be challenging to make a space for many people to get along but i dont recall any super serious only fandom related dramas in batim?? weirdos are in every fandom and you just blast their asses into oblivion with a block button

and there have been cases when i felt kinda bad for blocking someone because that meant i'd exclude them from something i wanted to think of as a fandom-wide event for everyone who would obey it's rules but that's where this outlook on curating your experience into a smaller circle is very much the way to go lol

wait what am i talking about

aha yea 2019-2022 everything fucking DIED here but i was having a blast drawing my comic and also a lot of people who were into the sides of batim i was into mainly (the human characters) stayed around more than everyone else and it was really chill, i've met a lot of people and made many friendships :)

as the fandom was getting smaller there was a noticable drop in the amount of notes batim related posts were getting which is a very big symptom of a fandom dying but i think at some point it sorta stabilized who stayed there after batdr was delayed and delayed

i reblog and tag more than an usual tumblr user (when im active cuz sometimes i can not reblog anything for months because im busy lol) and that didnt start without a reason, it sure is a habit now and i really enjoy doing it, letting people know what i think about their stuff and putting nice things on display for others to see

reblogs are not just crucial for singular artists but also for fandoms as a whole, thats how you keep that train rollin

though here is a sad thing that many many artists dont reblog a lot, or reblog to their sideblogs that arent followed by nearly as many people as their main blogs

and thats like understandable, im the weirdo who puts a whole mess of many posts on my main but i think thats also the most effective way to help other people get traction and i never see this mentioned when people complain that tumblr users dont reblog as much stuff as they like

its even kinda funny to me when people complain about their stuff not getting reblogged when they dont reblog others stuff themselves at all xD though there is a bit of cyanide in that thought heheh

on the other hand reblogging doesnt work on stuff that i could see from other people: the stuff i reblog i get from browsing the bendy and the ink machine tag sorted by new + sometimes when i bored i scroll through my dash and reblog some random things but i follow 2k people so i dont really see any individuals art specifically, just a collection of random posts that i am able to scroll through in a few minutes (and every minute theres a bunch of new posts posted/reblogged by those i follow)

and that can take a long time! if ive been busy for months then scrolling through a few months worth of stuff people around the world made for bendy is so bad even on a beefy computer that it just pushes tumblr to its limits and takes HOURS to reblog and tag for me, and then i might even hit the daily post limit and have to continue tomorrow

but i enjoy doing this, bendy is my fixation after all and i fucking love art and what people can create for this thing that i like i soooooo desire to see it all

and i try to reblog as much as possible, though i dont obviously reblog *everything* from the tag, sometimes i just give a like or i just dont like the thing cuz its not in my liking and thats it

but i did make it a thing that during ink demonth i reblog all entries for the event no matter what my opinion of them is just to give some of that Exposure TM because hey maybe some of my followers Will like it

i dont run a super duper popular blog but there is a bunch of yall there and i think me reblogging something in this fandom at least may give a litol boost to the notes on a post

and its always fun to see peoples reactions that dont expect me to reblog from them but then i do and they freak out a little, i think i love it on the same level as getting comments on my own art :) its super wholesome

man by writing this post im procrastinating on something but fdnjkfdfd

but anyway thank you!! and im glad you think so because i did try to accomplish that :D

[obscure-entity]

i love the change in the way you've drawn snaps/entity/in general over the years. if you go back really far into the blog you can see the clear differences in shapes and lines used, and you can see a very clear steady upward trajectory in skill/improvement. its really cool and rather inspiring! im not too confident in my art, but knowing that If I Keep Going On I'll Get Better is very motivating. anyway i love your art but im sure you know that!

yea :') ive been feeling better abt having my old art up over the years because like. i still made that!. having it up does feel like a vulnerable spot but it doesnt really help to shame myself forever

i do want to thank you for recognizing it specifically in snaps and entity because i was trying so so so hard to sculpt like the personality i saw in them but i didnt have the "skill" or experimentation to do it yet. (it made me cry a few times years ago) ive mostly left their ACTUAL designs unchanged but it was a lot of shape/expressive lines that i was trying so hard to place . especially snaps. he is like a whole person i am retrying to convey over and over every time i draw him. i do feel like i finally nailed some of the subtleties his design has though

it does help to experiment a lot or have a goal in mind ^.^ try to get the expression out of your system . without beating yourself up for it of course. like if you know youre working toward at least SOMETHING youll probably find a way to reach it i think. its iteration

[cryptid-manor]

FAQ, Q&A, Resources

Hi, I’m new in town and you lot have been very kind to follow me.

Here’s a little blog post that I update occasionally.

Do you have any technique or app recommendations?

If I’m on-the-go, on my tablet or phone, I use a lot of different applications. Procreate w/ an Apple Pen, Midjourney, Dalle, Glitché, Filmm, GlitchCam, Groovo, Canva, PicsArt, VSCO. I’m getting into Lightroom, Photoshop and Adobe Express editions. Save and edit and save and edit and save and edit and save and edit.

If I’m at my desk, I use GIMP a lot. I use or add a few old school glitch art techniques that can only be done on my Mac or on my PC. Versions tend to jump from phone to laptop to phone to laptop.

Here are two tutorials if you’d like to learn some, ever more seemingly, old school techniques for yourself. I’d be utterly pleased if this was your first entrance to “glitch art” —

Do you sell prints or shirts or any fine, fine merchandise anywhere?

Not of anything I make with MidJourney. Well, technically, no merchandise of anything right now. If you see it sold online, it’s a fake. If you see anything of mine go viral somewhere other than this Tumblr account, it’s fake.

Maybe I’ll make postcards, some day, out of sheer novelty. But, honestly, right now, a lot of this blog is going to turn into behind the scenes, drafting, etc.

…

i.e…. “~•*•THE PROCESS•*•~”

…

At 800 followers, I feel like I’ve cultivated a scene that I can trust with feedback on my other passion projects.

Wait, other projects?

Oh yeas. Have you ever read House Of Leaves? That’s what the inside of my brain looks like if I don’t Make Things.

Ok cool.

Yeah, for sure, of course.

Can you recommend any fandoms or other accounts that you like?

I like stuff. Stuff is good. Have you seen some of the stuff out there? It’s everywhere. Stuff is all over the place, and I love it. And I love that for me. And I love that for you.

Stuff for everyone, stuff for all, I say, at times when I’m going from here to there.

Here’s some of the stuff I like. Do you have any stuff you like?

— Degenesis (TTRPG)

— Trevor Henderson (@slimyswampghost on IG)

— Plastiboo (Artist)

— @louceph (seriously, a truly amazing artist)

— @hannahorca (wow wow wow)

— LIMINAL_ (TTRPG)

— MORK BÖRG (TTRPG)

— Mayfair Watchers Society (Podcast)

— Quiet Part Loud (Podcast)

— Welcome To Scarfolk (Book)

— Uzumaki & Gyo (Manga)

— Elden Ring (Video Game)

— Lovecraft Country (Series)

— Blasphemous (Video Game)

— Berserk (Manga)

— Oats Studio (Series, Netflix)

— District 9 (Movie)

— Love Death + Robots (Series)

Any more?

Sure but they might be “off-brand” for the aesthetic.

— Hollow Knight (Game)

— The Long Dark (Game)

— Frostpunk (Game)

— Nausicaä (Movie)

— Princess Mononoke (Movie)

— Scavenger’s Reign (Series)

— Raised By Wolves (Series)

— This War Of Mine (Game)

— Midnight Gospel (Series)

— The Beginners Guide (Game)

Okay, so hey I’ve fallen in love with one of the Monsters on here. Can I adopt it and name it and feed it and call it mine?

Listen your head-canon is your head-canon but for god’s sake remember that I have to read the fic and you have to write the fic. A curse on both our houses if ever used for PvP combat.

Do you sell NFTs?

No.

Okay…have I thought about it? Yes. Sure. Whatever. But I don’t sell NFTs. No “legitimate” NFTs of my work exists. If you see it, it’s fake.

I’ve told myself there’s only one way I’d use an NFT or Ethereum — if someone would like to “legally” adopt one of my OC critters. I would literally draw up the novelty adoption papers. That sounds like so much fun.

Conclusion

Thanks for hanging out and reading my words. This kind of came to an abrupt end, didn’t it? Yeah, pacing isn’t something I’m good at yet. But am I not deserving of love, simply as one voice amongst the many spiritual echoes singing the tune of our grand eternal choir of life? Am I not worthy of perhaps a little treat?

[kisekisreblogspage]

Hi, I'm Zen, the artist who drew the "Moon God Sans" you commented on. Thank you again for the kind words.

I wanted to offer to draw a quick Sans sketch in return for your kind words. Nothing too detailed/complicated. Not sure which Sans you like. I took some caution with your main blog's post about "messaging," "sending a pic," etc.

If you're interested, you can message or "ask" me. Otherwise, have a good day. (Sorry, initially replied this in your main blog post, but deleted it once I found this reblog one). Thanks again!

O

My

God

Thank YOU!

For literaly flipping my ass at the moment you send the question!!

Oh yeas please. Yes!! I wuld love to have your art!!! It wuld be someting really really really really both meaningfull and kind out of someone!!!

Yes please!

Clasic Sans wuld do please if its not a burden for you!

Also. Can i put that drawing of you in my profile picture when you end up??

Oh stars you got me so exited

Someone whants to gift me a drawing because of kindness!!!

Im literaly Rolling in the floor

Please please please be not a joke!!

I must be dreaming or something lol

Thank you!

Yes please draw sans undertale (clasic)

You don't have to make it so pretty it is going to be ok the whatever you do

Thank you!

Thank you!

Thank you!

[averagedualies]

hey!

Finally getting around to updating this

But, yea. My name is Dualie, I'm an Inkling just trying to not get killed. I’m 19 years old and my pronouns are he/him. I got partially sanitized a while back and now I share a body with the biggest nerd ever.

. . . I will choose to ignore that.

Hello. I am Sage. I am an artificial intelligence who is at the present moment, sharing a body and mind with Dualie. I have been informed that I “have a Tetris addiction” although I disagree. Addiction would imply that there is a problem.

Mhm, sure buddy.

Anyways! If you see a weird looking guy wearing a torn lab-coat and broken glasses wandering around Unova, please let us know.

Also, here are our Pokemon!

—

Frye - Fletchling, my first pokemon. Best girl

Rustle - Shiny Rowlet, was sent to me by someone? Silly dude

Porygon - Found him in a cave. They live in my phone! [Hii!! :>]

Mimikyu - a good friend. He understands me

—

I should probably also introduce my roommates, since I talk about them enough that they might as well be on the blog (even if they aren’t here with me rn)

—

Byte: My partner!! Also the captain of our inksports team. Also the hottest drummer ever. He/him Inktoling

Ebb: Really cool guy. Definitely the smartest of the group. Mechanic. They/them octoling

Tide: Silliest guy ever. Acts like my brother. Really talented artist. He/they inkling.

—

They’re working on a way to get me back rn. I managed to get in contact with them again thanks to @/aether-foundation-pr. They now have their own account @inkteamatlas!

Anyways, anyone’s welcome to interact. Only rule is don’t be gross.

//OOC below cut. Pelliper mail, musharna mail/malice and Magic anons are on

Updated the ic intro.

But yeah, this is my splatoon faller. Don’t ask what’s going on with the plot because I don’t honestly know either.

Trigger warnings are gonna be tagged in the format “tw (triggering thing here)”. This blog will include some violence, injury, and occasional ic transphobia (towards him, Dualie is not transphobic y’all)

High stakes stuff will happen. If you wanna plan out anything plot related, feel free to dm me! Any art on this blog will be mine unless stated otherwise.

I’m currently working on a plot summary which will be linked here once I’m done.

Also, Mod is a minor. Just keep that in mind when interacting. Don't be weird

Splatoon faller sever can be found here

[wcamino-confessions]

Hi, this is MiseryXCPR from Amino. I am here to say I'm sorry and explain things; 

About commissions; I have horrible time management and memory, which results in me forgetting or just not having the time when I think i do. I am actively working on this and I'm trying to get better at it- examples being I have users pay after when the art is complete and lowering the amount of commissions I take so I don't overwhelm myself again. I ALWAYS refund people, especially when asked, and when people express concern I try to address it.  This does not excuse the wait list and wait time and I do apologise again for it. I take full responsibility and I will try hard to fix it.

If you had commissioned me on my former main account, I had been locked out of it and had been working with the leadership team of the amino to contact commissioners and give them their refunds. As for the person who made the ych post, yes, I refunded them their 5$ and had apologized for the inconvenience (though it was not shown in their blog).

If you had commissioned me, feel free to dm me on my amino account (or Discord if you prefer) and I'll be happy to work out a refund for you!

The Breaks; I didn't mean to set off red flags for my breaks. I'm a working guy who has a job and has been dealing with a lot of issues in real life, including a very serious one that I'm going through. I apologise for it and making people nervous with the breaks though. 

The Apology Post for the Adopts; I made the apology post because I realised my comment / observation (I wasn't directly stating an opinion though my feelings were involved a bit!) Was one sided, and because people spoke to me on the other sides view, I realised I shouldn't have been so one sided and made the said post as an apology for anyone I had offended with it. Most of the people who have spoke to me are people I respect or sometimes talk to, and hold no ill feelings towards them whatsoever. 

Tansy; They have yes commissioned me at around the start of August ~ July 29th. I showed them a wip and they paid which I was fine with. However, I wasn't able to get their commission finished. At around the start of October ~ I believe October 13th I offered a refund due to them a) waiting for a while since I did feel bad but also b) making it public, going around to my commissioners and asking personal information. I had agreed to do the commission because of them practically blackmailing me after spreading misinformation about the commission, but when something serious came up and I told them I couldn't do it and offered MANY forms of refund ways, how they can have the refund until I finish the art, how the refund can be done, etc they continued to harass me to the point that they were, yes, banned. I'm still going out of my way to make sure they got their money back despite the treatment.  I've been told about them before and I am only stating my side of the story. 

Conclusion; I'm sorry, again.  I wish I've done better with commission time management and how I've been handling commissions. I actively do refund and If you feel like I have scammed you or haven't finished the artwork, PLEASE dm me on my amino or Discord (feel free to  ask for it) and I will try to respond asap. If you have criticism or any advise, please let me know or any further concern. I own up to my mistakes and I hope to learn from them and grow as a person. Thank you for hearing me out, i don't know how Tumblr works as i just created an account to address this, but yea-- thank you again for reading. My deepest apologies, again, and I do hope to fix everything and work on my mistakes and help people. 

[esculentevil]

(Thorinduil + Thingoropher AU) The Heart of the Mermaid/Miner

((Thorinduil Mermaid/Miner AU partly inspired by @rosalind-wt-blog’s art here; also for MerMay; ALSOalso: sorry this is so short, it’s really just a gloss ok: no it’s not: it was MEANT to be one but then my idiot brain decided “NO! It needs DETAILS!!! I need to explain THIS and explain THAT!!! Now, once more, from the top, WITH FEELING!!!” x.x, and alsox3 for the Thingol/Oropher dump: while trying to decide/figure out how Duil could be trying to get back his heart while heartless [which launched its OWN debate of how fitting that would be from a he’s so heartless viewpoint], I unintentionally created a really cool background history for this AU that I just HAD to use; and, conveniently, it made it both possible and logical to fit my other OTP in here so... yea; enjoy?))

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆💎AO3🦪/⛏️Pillowfort🌲☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆

Long ago, during the course of the First Age, The Great Elven King Elu Thingol requested the aid of the Dwarf Lords of Old.

“Fashion for me a necklace befitting this gem,” he’d ordered, loud and grand, displaying for all present (the dwarrow lords in question, members of his court, his wife--giver of said gem--and child, lords and ladies of distant elvish lands) one large jewel glowing an enchanting golden hue that mesmerized them all.

But none more so than the dwarrows employed to frame it.

They coveted this gem, worshiped it as True Gold, and endeavored to have it--and have it they did: on the day they deemed to present the necklace made, they snatched the golden gem from the great elven king and brought his wrath down upon themselves and all their kin; and, thus, the land of Erebor was taken, the dwarrows within conquered and claimed, and Elu Thingol crowned anew: both Elfking and Dwarfking.

~

Thorin had grown up with this tale sung low and long into his heart.

His mother had whispered it to him, behind his father’s back, every night since his birth in the Third Age--long after the dwarrows of Erebor lost their mountain, freedom, and gold to the white waif of an elf they must since call their king.

Thrain had never liked her telling of it, saying it was too kind and considerate and more lie than truth for the Dwarf Lords of Old--the REAL Dwarfkings, that is--had simply taken what they were due when the blasted Elfking refused to pay; but Fis, arguably the stubbornest of all dwarf dames, ignored his eternal protests and kept telling it, insisting that it was important for Thorin to know all truths.

And, so, he did.

~

Not that it did much good.

By the time he was old enough to mine and make like his father and forefathers, Thorin had already come to agree with Thrain and Thror (his grandfather and one of Erebor’s true kings) about the events they were all too young to see.

This is why, when Thorin unearths something so precious and pretty and perfect as he mines, he shows it to his father and grandfather and NOT his mother.

She would have only had him turn it in to the false king.

~

Together, and with the blessings of the remains of the true dwarven lordships, the Sons of Durin settle on a name for this priceless treasure: The Arkenstone.

~

Elsewhere, deep under the surface of--not rock and stone but--sea and water, this item is known by a different name: The Heart of the Green Sea’s King.

The land of Greenwater is one far below the Surface World. It is a land of sand and coral and thermal vents and darkness with speckles of light--not of the sun but of those inhabiting it: merms, merfolk, merpeople--whichever you prefer.

They go by many names; but surface dwellers usually call them monsters.

To Thranduil, however, it is THEM whom are the true monsters.

~

Legolas, Thranduil’s son, does not agree with this.

He thinks they’re strange, sure, but in a cute way. And the hairy ones are cutest, he often says; and Thranduil can never bring himself to say they’re the grossest--for that’s his opinion and, like his own father, he likes his son’s independence.

But that’s just the problem: his father may not be his father for much longer.

Oropher, King of Greenwater of the Great Green Sea, is DYING.

~

And, to his grandson’s tears, the fault lies in The Hairy Ones.

~

Thus, Thorin and Thranduil meet: above the sea but below the stone.

Deep inside a cave dwarrows use to bathe, the merm surfaces in a hot spring--utilizing the heat of it for that is what he is accustomed to from the thermal vents--and finds his head almost taken off--not by Thorin’s axe or sword or even a bow and arrow, no, but by his bare hands: wet and hot and coarse and thick and STRONG; almost enough to choke him on the first try.

Almost.

Thorin might be powerful in his own way but he’s still just a tiny little short dwarf: he is NOTHING compared to the raw might of a merm’s tail, least of all Thranduil’s impossibly long, mithril encrusted, starlight one.

~

It chokes him back, digging the toughest metal directly into his tough naked skin, and squeezes not just his neck but his head and torso and whole body as well until he’s dizzy and breathless and SIGHTLESS--

~

King Thingol is not impressed when he hears the young dwarf miner’s account: he’s intrigued.

He’s heard tales of these tails before, long ago when sails from Valinor meant crossing the Ocean Green and seeing the sights only Valar, Maiar, and Eldar do.

Merfolk are legends: beings of the deepest seas that can command them like Elves do land, the Valar do Arda, and Elu Illuvatar does Everything; it has, thus, been a long held belief (supported by The One not really knowing much of them) that these sea creatures are the only form of independent life anywhere.

And Elu Thingol has always been interested in them thusly...

~

It is this interest that has Thorin, a thick and heavy and burly and land-loving DWARF, swimming down the underwater tunnel his would-be-killer had used.

The path leads him passed the mining holes and the hot springs’ halls and even the lowest housing units used by the nobility and ROYALTY of the dwarrows.

And that irritates him: the fact that this MONSTER--which came upon him while he was NAKED and trying to RELAX and TAKE A WELL-DESERVED, HOT, PAMPERING BATH--might not only have COME FROM but also very well LIVE down there where it’s DEEPER than even DWARROWS can live.

But he does not let it show, does not let it interfere, because, as the hole opens and leads him into this insultingly deeper dwelling... he will have his REVENGE.

~

Or so he thought.

~

Thorin did not come unprepared on this endeavor--he wasn’t ALLOWED to--and it shows.

Equipped with oil-slicked clothing [spun by elves for only they could be so ick], an ancient [but admittedly powerful for a metal item forged by elves] blade named Orcrist, and a[n ELVEN] spell that allows him to breathe like a fish underwater [seriously, these ELVES have the absolute WEIRDEST things...], Thorin’s task isn’t nearly as hard as it probably could be--but he [and his father and grandfather] is certain the weird spell is the only thanks the elves deserve.

Especially as the freaks are known for making GLOWY THINGS and THIS blade DOESN’T GLOW despite how HELPFUL that would be in the DARK DEEP (and, yes, he’s irritated about this because the elves made a POINT to SAY it glows--around ORCS, they said, whatever THOSE are--as though that’s a huge selling point even though, one, it’s not being SOLD, and, two, THERE’RE NO ORCS!!!)!

Except, Thorin finds (and, no, he’s not sure if the elves KNEW this before so still fire and flame to them), that a glowing sword wouldn’t have been that helpful: EVERYONE DOWN HERE GLOWS.

~

This makes finding the specific monster HE is looking for not particularly hard; however, it DOES make stealthing around much more difficult than it should be--even for a dwarf.

Everywhere he goes, he has to be sure not to get caught in any merthing’s light--or DISTRACTED by it because, blast it, it’s BEAUTIFUL most of the time--especially that of the one he’s actually looking for--even if his false king isn’t.

Elu Thingol isn’t particularly interested in WHICH merthing he brings back so long as he DOES bring back ONE.

Thorin just hopes to hit two stones.

~

He finds him surrounded by what he can only call his young.

They are all smaller than him and, although only one of them LOOKS like him, they all seem to do or move or even sound similar to him like Thorin (and Dis, his sister, and Frerin, his brother) does with his father and even grandfather (or mother in the case of Dis; their grandmother remains unknown to them).

And that’s a problem: if these littler merthings are his children...

Thorin can’t; he just... but he MUST.

~

And so he does.

He waits for the young ones to finish combing their hair--long and luscious locks of varying colors but mostly dark browns which he figures come from the mother (whom Thorin doesn’t see but can only assume must be unbelievably beautiful; worthy, certainly, of--MONSTER; that thing is a MONSTER; he’s not beautiful)--and (re)placing braids in each other’s before laying down in each other’s arms and tails and hair and fins and seeming to go to sleep like his younger siblings.

Thorin ignores the warm clench in his chest at the thought and sight.

Instead, he silently follows the beautiful monster that came onto him.

~

The glowing creature leads him to a cavernous room filled with wealth.

Gemstones that glitter under the merthing’s glow. Coins that catch all eyes. Metals that match the gray crust his almost murderer wears upon his long tail. Gold and silver and copper and garnets and sapphires and chrysoprases.

MOUNTAINS of them.

And upon them, in the center of the room, is a throne of giant white diamonds; and, upon it...

~

The Great King of Greenwater the Great of the Great Green Sea sleeps, seemingly, upon his white diamond throne amongst the well wishes and offerings of his loving people, frightened and sad and desperate to get him back.

But, the gaping hole in his chest, where his heart once lay centuries ago and long before the beginning of his reign, sits black and hollow and DARK.

Oropher the Green Maelstrom sits empty and barren upon his throne, surrounded by love and light but none of it his own.

For his heart, a beautiful giant glowing green pearl which should be buried deep within the living coral stone of his much beloved home above his giant throne, has been taken--MINED--by the very monster creeping into his royal dome.

~

One important thing to note about merms: their hair isn’t actually hair.

Technically, it is; but only in the sense that these long locks are really hair cells.

They’re receptors, delicate but strengthened by their unusually large size, and pick up everything from sound waves to actual waves that indicate movement.

Such as that of some creepy monster coming up behind one.

~

Thranduil might have noticed it sooner if he weren’t so tired.

In the wake of his father’s technical absence, he has been forced into his role: Thranduil is now king--however temporarily (and by the currents does he hope this is all going to end shortly with his father up and ruling as he does normally)--and doing his best to juggle both his father’s duties, his own duties as prince and father (and, yes, a part of him wishes he could tack husband back onto that list, if only so he could have back the comfort, aid, and love of his long gone wife), AND the duty of retaking his father’s heart so they can ALL return to normal.

But he does not notice the creeping presence as it enters, so wrapped is he within his woe and weep and want and wish for his father to return to him them.

And even when he did notice, he thought it was simply one of his many children--for why WOULD he assume one of The Hairy Ones from up above would come in the dead of night and follow him into his father’s seemingly empty abode?

~

What actually tipped him off was the lack of light.

Despite the movement he could feel through both the waves and his long hair, no new light came with it--and that’s strange as all merms glow (but his father... now, at least) with the light of life and love (the reason his father is now so dark: without his heart at least tangentially connected to him through his throne/home, he technically has neither, now... it is why everymerm has tried to fill the room with their love imbued minerals and metals, hoping to substitute their own love for his but it isn’t working and Thranduil’s panicking and that’s why he WENT there, up to The Hairy Ones, in the hopes to END THIS--to get his father BACK).

Confused and realizing it’s not one of his sons or daughters but expecting, really, little more than a random fish he could maybe make them all a little pet out of, the prince-king of the wetland realm turns around and finds himself trapped, staring down the business end of a fully loaded handheld harpoon gun.

And the one holding that gun... the very first Hairy One he’s touched.

~

Thorin can breathe underwater--this is the one thing he and his people will thank those blasted elves for--BUT--blast those idiots--he isn’t able to TALK.

Of course, he isn’t sure the merthings can--the monster didn’t bother speaking when he came upon him possibly as nude as he had been (which, truly, is just... a WEIRD thought--the thing is nude even NOW and Thorin’s not really sure what, exactly, to DO with that thought)--but he assumes they have a language--of SOME kind--that’s probably as alien to him as the waifish noise elves make.

Thingol actually said (yes, he was listening--only out of necessity, mind: preparedness is important; especially when one is embarking on a task alone) that their language, in the legends, was described like music and song: instruments for vocal chords and an orchestra in the throat.

Regardless of what is true: Thorin lets his gun talk for him.

~

That and his head.

He nods it in the direction he wants the merthing to go--back towards the tunnel--and keeps the gun trained on his (and Thingol’s) prize.

The monster, not an idiot, clenches its (Thorin isn’t sure what these things are--he passed by many of them but found no real way of telling their age or gender--and this one, especially, is a monster to him anyway) fists (in a move far too... SIMILAR to be comfortable) and, after glancing one last time at the figure shadowed and shattered and slain upon the spectacular diamond throne, obediently swims towards the hidden hole while giving the dwarf a wide berth.

Thorin pointedly ignores the sympathetic clench the monster’s horrified face makes him feel as they swim over the still sleeping bodies of his children.

~

Thingol praises Thorin upon his return, monstrous merthing in figurative hand.

Thorin’s father and grandfather and other such dwarven family are equally proud and impressed and pester him endlessly for information on the strange things.

Fis, however, is not either of these things.

No: she is furious.

~

Thorin didn’t think this was much of a problem: his mother usually calms down after enough time is given--although, yes, apologies often help speed up things.

He isn’t a liar, though; and, while a part of him feels bad for the children, yes, he’s not at all sorry to bring his own assailant to justice.

However, his mother does not agree--she does not SEE things this way--and, so, she demands--no: forces!--him to beg for forgiveness.

Fis, somehow knowing exactly where her husband and father-in-law hid it, takes and TURNS IN The Arkenstone.

~

Thingol is mesmerized by it--more so than he was by even the glowing gold gem that started this all those years ago--just as the dwarrows knew he’d be (because, obviously, they had been).

He’s also angered by their treachery.

They’re punished accordingly: incarceration in cages upon the mountaintop; barred caves otherwise open and vulnerable to the weathering elements; exposed holes in full view of the sun and moon and air and WATER and DORIATH, Thingol’s original/elven/forest kingdom just northwest of Erebor, where they are rendered naked and bared of their mountain’s wonderful and warm weight like worms tugged up by winter-weak, willowy birds.

And if this jarring removal from all that Thorin has known and held dear forever weren’t so horrid and painful and enraging, the young dwarven prince of Erebor would actually be more afraid of his mother’s still very present ire than Thingol’s.

~

The reason being, of course, that Fis isn’t done.

O, no: the great dwarf dame of Erebor has only just begun!

She may not fully understand what, exactly, it is that her son unearthed that day; but she DOES understand that it is not a toy or a treasure like THEY understand.

No, it is a heart--a PERSON--those same walls her son now misses and craves tell her--whispers into her mind through her dreams in the dead of night--and Oropher’s Heart MUST Be Returned!

~

And so, as she has always done, Fis obeys her true royal ruler--her mountain--and approaches her non-kin king with determination.

He is almost too distracted to notice her: The Arkenstone--as her son called it--lies like a cold star in his hands, brilliant and bright but also bitter and biting; despite it baring the same blue as a hot and sunny day, there is no warmth in it, no heart: there is no love in the glowing object; just immeasurable sadness.

It wants to go home; it wants to return to Orofer; it wants its FAMILY back.

And Fis aims to grant its wish.

~

“Such a lovely item, your majesty,” she begins, very carefully, and bows deeply after entering the Elvenking’s [Ereborian] throne room.

King Thingol hardly answers her, seems to not really hear her, and barely hums in acknowledgment of her praise or presence; and, for Fis, that is both good and bad: on one hand, it means he’s too enthralled by the blue gemstone in question to bother with her or what she has to say (which should mean a lot of leeway); but, on the other, it means he’s so enthralled by it... he might not give it up--which he NEEDS to do.

And Fis is determined to make that happen: “About as lovely as the merm, yes?

“I wonder which is lovelier?”

~

It was a good question; so good, it got Thingol to act.

The Great Elvenking quickly ordered the throne room closed to all visitors and had all of his foreseeable engagements cancelled for the rest of the day. Then, he made his way to his personal rooms--freshly (relatively--it’s been millennia) carved into the highest parts of The Lonely Mountain which he conquered almost effortlessly thousands of years ago (and, coincidently, directly above where Thorin and his accomplices are caged in their little cave-cells)--wherein the merm is collared and chained with dwarven metal and elven lock to his tub (really a grotto the dwarrows working on his chambers connected to a hot spring far below--probably the very one this creature attacked his miner-now-prisoner) (he chose this method of containment not just because it keeps the treasure inside HIS own space but also because it seems to need the heated water).

The creature hisses angrily at him--still, it does not speak.

But it DOES do something ELSE when it sees the gem.

~

Thingol had expected many things when he entered his rooms with the stone.

He expected the anger, for that is all the undersea being has been since arriving even back when it FIRST came to attack Thorin, and even the silence (again: NOTHING has been spoken or uttered by this thing but for HISSES--sometimes, Thingol actually wonders if it’s truly fish these things are based off of or snakes); he’d expected it to be as enthralled by the blue jewel as they have all been--or even, for perhaps this thing (as unbelievable as this thought might actually be since the merm is COVERED in precious minerals and metals of his own) simply isn’t able to appreciate the beautiful things in life, completely ignore it.

But what he DIDN’T expect...

Were tears.

~

It’s beautiful, in a way.

Not the tears!

No, not those.

The SONG.

~

Fis cries as she hears it, too: the long, deep, mournful cries of hopelessness and loss that are so loud, so resonant, so HURT... they can ALL hear it.

Thorin looks up from his cave of a cage and, for a moment, ceases to breathe; he isn’t sure HOW he knows, but he DOES: those painfilled wails are from HIM.; and a part of him thinks he should be happy about this--serves the monster right--but... he can’t.

NONE of them can.

And, this time, he mustn't.

~

The other thing that happens that Thingol was not expecting is a HOLE.

He’d known, of course, that the cells were virtually right under him/his rooms; what he hadn’t known was just HOW CLOSE that meant they were (and, legitimately, he can appreciate the cleverness behind the dwarrows doing this): Thorin and his company barely had to tunnel their way through the mountain before they are��BLASTING through his bedroom floor!

The young dwarven prince, backed by his family and friends, stands dwarf-tall--covered in ash (possibly remains of fires used to attempt to say warm) and debris (from the tunneling) and all manners of filth (more the fault of the dwarrow designers, Thingol thinks, than his own--it really isn’t his fault they all chose, while building the cave-cage-cells, NOT to put certain things as though RUNOFF is good enough for a shower [even IF they have a surprisingly good waterfall here] over his near naked undershirt and thermals)--and admittedly menacing.

Or, at least, as menacing as a five foot dwarf can be to a nine foot tall elf.

~

The only good thing about this sudden breach is the shocked silence that it brings to the sea creature: even Thranduil had not expected THAT of all things.

Thorin bellows a war cry unheard in almost an age before he’s charging Thingol, bare fists raised in filth from digging through what only a dwarf could toolless; Thrain and Thror and several other dwarrows--friends and family of Thorin--follow after him and, in a blink, Thingol is overwhelmed and taken down.

The young dwarf prince seizes his chance and--as his father and grandfather and cousins and brother all converge upon the Elfking-no-longer-Dwarfking--snatches the glowing blue gemstone from Thingol’s weakened grasp.

His eyes then lock with the starlit silver that is the merthing’s gaze.

~

The Arkenstone is heavy in his palm--unnaturally so--as he continues to stare.

It alternates between frigid cold and furious heat, almost as though it is thanking him and cursing him all at once AND back and forth--as though it can’t decide which stance to take: hate or love; gratitude or resentment; joy or sadness.

It’s reminiscent of the glow itself: while mostly blue, there’s a fluctuation inside it of yellows, golds, oranges, and even pinks and purples and reds and GREENS that gives it an almost white light--as though one is holding the sun in their hand.

And all that light, that flux, shines brightest in the hope of the merthing’s eyes.

~

Dwarves make the best hidden doors and the strongest of all the metals abound, of this there is no doubt; but--sadly--even Thorin must admit that the best locks are not actually dwarven ones: no, this make lies in the talents of the gray elves whom somehow make the pieces of the locks, themselves... STICK together: there is no picking to be done when there is no SPACE between or EXPLANATION why the two halves don’t just simply FALL apart!

NOTHING is really keeping the collar together, as far as either Thorin or ... IT can tell; and yet it does not open or even look like it can! To either of them!

Therefore, as his family and friends fight the enraged Thingol behind them, Thorin kneels before the bejeweled creature and takes its chains in his hands.

And then: he PULLS.

~

Elves may have clever gadgets and powerful creations and straight up magic but nothing they have/make/do can/will ever stand up to a purely pissed off dwarf--especially if all Thorin has to do is yank the connection point from the wall.

As the item in question clatters to the floor, a new silence comes to the room.

Part of it is shock that Thorin just DID that--just RIPPED the entire CHAIN straight out of the WALL--but most of it is actually what ELSE Thorin just did:

The merm is holding The Arkenstone.

~

“Get ‘im home, son!”

Fis grins proudly at her eldest, eyes bright with unshed tears that are probably more left overs from how the merm’s heart-wrenching song had made her feel than anything else; she had run all the way from the throne room to Thingol’s when she heard the wail, expecting the worst, and couldn’t be happier, now.

She’s still angry, mind, and Thorin knows--now that he’s actually sorry about it--he’ll have to apologize properly to her later; but, for now, he’s making amends.

At least with his mother: “Orofer needs ‘is heart back!”

~

Thranduil’s in his once-attacker’s arms before he really knows what’s going on.

The short little Hairy One (who’s actually quite tall now that he’s seen so many) is wide enough that the cradle of his hold is surprisingly nice and comfortable--ignoring that he can’t really fit the merm’s impossibly long tail inside of it.

Were they underwater, this would be fine as Thranduil’d be able to swim himself his tail would just trail through the currents; however, above the water... Thranduil winces as his tail starts dragging along the cold and rough stone floor.

He quickly tenses his muscles, coils the offended limb tight about their bodies, and--if he marvels at just how thick and strong and WARM the Hairy One is... well, that’s his business.

~

Thorin almost immediately drops the merm when he coils around him.

Memories of that night only a short while ago are still vivid in his taxed mind and his breath hitches more than it should while he’s sprinting down the mountain’s insides to get the tailed creature down to the hot springs far below them (since that’s literally the only surefire way he knows to get the starlit one safely home) as the shadow of those long and coiling muscles overlap with the breathless, dizzy, SIGHTLESSNESS of almost being choked to death by his charge.

It is only the knowledge that he struck the other first, almost killed HIM first, and the command of his beloved mother that prevents him from actually dropping him.

And his pride.

~

And also, if he can be perfectly honest (at least with himself): the warmth of him, the softness of his skin, the smooth texture of his otherwise protected scales and the silkiness of his long and lustrous hair; the scent of the sea and algae and kelp and fruit and starlight and aquatic flowers (like the off-white lotuses that grow along the edges of their springs--where the water is a little cooler but still warm enough to keep them happy--although how they survive such little sun...) that permeates the air around him and wafts off him like light shines off crystals; the way he tucks himself closer and nuzzles his chin and TRUSTS HIM... true: it’s not FULL trust; but it’s there in its infancy and Thorin finds he wants to grow it.

~

By the time they’re in the hot spring, Thorin is panting and worrying.

For a split second, he fears the one thing he had to thank the elves for before: BREATHING UNDER WATER. Will he still be able to? Now that Thingol’s pissed at him and more than capable of just... (perhaps indirectly) drowning him???

He isn’t sure and he isn’t allowed to think much about it (the merm doesn’t know, after all, and therefore can’t be blamed for so eagerly returning to his element; he CAN, however, be questioned for grabbing Thorin’s hand and pulling on it).

Instead, he finds out through trial and error--the dwarvishest of ways.

~

Thingol is many things, though, including a monster when it suits/benefits him; but, no, he is not in the habit of murdering others by retracting a gift.

Just subjugating them.

~

If he had to guess, Thorin would figure Thingol is the reason the merm pulls him down under the surface with him--especially after they hear the distinct PLUNGE sounding from the hot springs telling them he’s coming after them.

For a moment, Thorin’s wounded and worried, freezing and panicking about what this must undoubtedly mean: for all that he loves his friends and family and people, overall, and for all that he is generally confident in how strong and powerful and resilient they all are, he knows Thingol is more so in every way.

There’s a reason, after all, he’s been able to be their forced king for millennia.

The image of his father and grandfather and brother and friends all dead--o, please, no defeated and downed on the floor of the Elvenking’s too-high rooms flashes in his mind before it’s dispelled and drowned by a soft and webbed hand (the one NOT clutching The Arkenstone--Orofer’s heart?) squeezing his rough and filthy one as the merm attached to it drags him deeper into the dark sea.

~

Everymerm is panicking in the throne room.

Their voices converge like an earsplitting orchestra and their light almost burns.

But, the sudden silence that falls when they all see their mature prince return with their beloved king’s heart and a Hairy One of all things...

Well, it makes the follow-up of an enraged Elvenking that much more deafening.

~

“Return the Arkenstone!!!”

Thingol’s voice echoes off the cavernous coral walls of the caveish throne room and ricochets off the mineral and metal mountains of riches ladden within it.

It vibrates the hearts of all those present, like a thunder clap shakes teardrops, and, for a moment, in between his near choking upon the very salt of the sea when it hits him that this means Thingol can SPEAK below as he does above, Thorin wonders if Orofer’s heart can feel the elf’s rage, too.

He honestly hopes it can’t.

(Let him be spared this.)

~

“It--HACKcoughUGHcoughCOUGHcouch--is not yours to begin with!”

Thorin does end up choking on the salty sea water surrounding him, after all, and he wonders how it is that the elf doesn’t have the same problem as him:

Has Thingol been down here before? (He DID say he was interested in them...)

Regardless of the answer, his coughing fit startled everymerm around him--especially the merm he came in with--and, so, they all turn to eye him worriedly--providing Thingol with a great opportunity.

~

He takes it, of course: both the opportunity and The Arkenstone.

The merm cries out and tries to take it back, tears in his already wet eyes and webbed fingers trying to be claws against the near triumphant elf.

Thorn cries out, too, enraged for the merm’s sake as well as those around them and also for his mother whom gave him this important assignment and, blast it, he will NOT disappoint her--never again.

The two pounce on the Elvenking and wrestle with him, all three trying to obtain the glowing blue gemstone--until it isn’t glowing blue anymore.

~

It’s green.

~

The three stop to stare at it, all taken aback.

Thranduil grins and sings with joy--his father recognizes his heart is near!

The merms around them realize what is happening, too, and begin to sing urgently and euphorically for the gem to be returned to its rightful place.

But, this isn’t all that they do: their joy and love is not bound by their voices, alone; no, is also lives in their minerals and metals, in their slates and stones, their coins and crystals, gems and gold: all of which now gleefully glow.

~

Thorin is mesmerized by it; awed and amazed; and so is King Thingol.

~

One of the things the elves’ spell doesn’t do is make the barer a better swimmer.

Swimming is something the bespelled must already be able to do--this is, actually, the main reason Thorin was so pissy about having to come down here: he CAN swim, yes, but he’s not very good at it; no dwarf really is; but elves...

Thingol, especially, can swim in ways Thorin and other dwarrows can not: specifically, by magically forcing air to do the swimming for them.

And, so, this is what King Thingol does as he nears Orofer.

~

“What beauty...” he murmurs, beholding the sight before him.

And while, yes, he IS looking at Orofer, that’s not really what he’s talking about: no, what he’s really referring to is the mountain the Mermking sits upon--and, no, not even the wealth and gold and GIANT DIAMOND: the LOVE.

It is a little known fact that the real reason elves condemn dwarves as greedy cretins is because they can see and FEEL it: dwarven hoards GLOW with greed whereas elven ones glow with PRIDE--even men’s hoards only glow with envy--and while each of these is a sinful glow, it is only the dwarves that attract worms.

This hoard’s glow, however, is something else ENTIRELY...

~

If Thingol had to say anything sinful about it, he’d probably suggest only one: lust.

~

Regardless of sin or saint, there is no denying the serenity that awashes him.

Nor is there any denying the siren call that compels him forward, gem in hand, towards the darkened, downed, shattered, shadowed king of the underworld.

The song echoes in his ears like a torrent--a storm--a MAELSTROM.

And it only quiets when Orofer the Great finally opens his green eyes.

~

The first thing the Mermking of Greenwater does is smile.

Not at Thingol, specifically, no: at the love he feels surging through him--all of it from his people and son and grandchildren and home--that’s been building--coalescing and accreting in his cavernous halls filled almost to point of bursting--for days.

His heart springs green--rich and vibrant and strong and enthralling--from both points--his chest and the coral above his throne from whence it was mined--and bathes the chamber in its emerald foresty magnetism for which is it named.

Greenwater the Great of the Great Green Sea is finally, once again, truly GREEN.

~

And King Thingol swears he could stare at this beauty for eons.

~

“Thank you, Graymantle.”

Thingol starts, overwhelmed, as the slowly warming creature beneath him shifts and speaks and suddenly stands to formally greet him--his royal guest.

“You have returned me.”

Webbed fingers, soft and heating and veined in green, caress Thingol’s cheek before the Mermking is swimming passed him and to his tearfully singing son; they embrace in showers of green and gold and gem and gentility and juveniles.

~

Thorin and Thingol are neigh on forgotten about; but they respectfully wait, realizing, in the ignorance, what their own almost took away.

~

“I apologize: my son should not have almost killed you.”

Thorin flushes and shifts under aforementioned son’s heated gaze. They’re all back where aforesaid deadly event took place--merms in the hot water while dwarf and elf sit in towels still being used to try and dry off--and trying to mend what almost became damaged beyond repair. King Orofer is extremely kind, understanding that neither of them could really help the way that they reacted and choosing, instead, to focus on the fact that they did, in the end, help his son and return his heart and offer both of their apologies and alliances and amends. “No, good king: it is I that attempted harm first; I am the one whom apologizes.”

Thorin looks up, as ashamed as he is anticipative; the mermprince looks back, starlit silver eyes cautiously curious and carefully contemplative.

Eventually, the whitette nods, “I should have tried talking to you.”

~

“A token of my gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” Oropher asks, warm lips turning up in a gentle smile as he swims towards the hot spring’s shore. There, kneeling beside his own simplified throne (for, while this is not a throne room, it is easier for them to conduct meetings together here than in either of their real ones; additionally, it rewrites the horrors the hot springs saw betwixt them in the beginning and now comforts them both), is Thingol the Graymantle, Elfking of Doriath and Elven co-king of Erebor, holding in his hands a beautiful necklace of mithril and emeralds and a gold star. “Whatever for?”

“Your kindness, generosity, and forgiveness.”

“My, what a tall order!” Thingol watches Oropher laugh and finds himself smiling despite the fact that he’d normally be annoyed at not being taken seriously. Greenwater’s king just... has that way about him: carefree but not careless, infectious but not irritating, and soft but surprisingly and sweetly strong.

~

This is why Thingol has decided to do what he never thought he could or would: give up the very thing that truly started all of this: The Gem of True Gold.

~

It fits snuggly against the length of Oropher’s neck.

The mermking hums as the last clasp clicks into place, relishing in the shine and squeeze and song as the item vibrates in time with his own voice. The gold star rests heavy against the hole in his chest where his heart used to be prekingship.

Deep sea-green stares up at night blue, their gaze creating a beautiful scape.

Oropher thinks he could get lost in that sky forever.

~

“Thank you.”

Thorin, Dwarf Lord and co-king of Erebor the [no longer] Lonely Mountain, flushes deeply under the heavy swaths of his royal robes as he sits on a rock beside the first merthing he’s ever touched and watches his nephew/sister-son play happily with aforementioned merm’s somewhat older son. Legolas, youngest mermprince of Greenwater, giggles and sings gleefully as Fili rolls around on the hot spring’s shores with him under the amused gazes of all--especially his mother, Dis, and his grandmother, Fis. They both adore the fry and, so, neither mind Thorin and Thranduil sipping mead and wine together.

“He’s always liked you hairy monsters; I appreciate you giving him one as a pet.”

Fis and Dis laugh uproariously as Thorin chokes and spits out his drink; Thranduil only giggles as Fili and Legolas continue playing, oblivious.

~

Eventually, Thingol lets go of his rule over Erebor, deciding he both misses home and has no need to subjugate Thorin and his people any longer.

There is talk of how this idea is really Oropher’s, who’s been helping the young and budding king grow into a magnificent one (along side his son, Thranduil, who’ll have none of that talk, thank you--he hates the young dwarf lord, understand: HATES), but nobody really minds: the dwarrows are happy regaining the right to rule their own mountain, the elves are happy to go home and see long missed loved ones, and the merms are largely unaffected (Doriath’s actually on the border of Greenwater due to a nice shoreline so...).

Thorin’s meetings with Greenwater, now that he’s The One Dwarfking of Erebor, still happen in the hot spring throne room, of course; but, now, it’s just him.

And Thranduil; whom, while still just a prince, is now an official ambassador--strictly, some say, for the Mountain King...

~

“Are you going to...”

Thorin trails off as he sits in the hot spring with his mermprince of a guest. Thranduil, calmly combing through his long and luscious and luminous white hair with a strangely unevenly bristled brush, glances at him in silent askance while waiting for him to continue. Neither one of them comment (anymore) on just how close they have become are to the day they violently met: both naked in the bath they were in that day they almost lost both their lives--to each other no less.

They don’t really have to.

They already know.

~

“King Orofer gave up his heart to be the great king that he is...”

Thorin frowns as he finds himself, yet again, terrible with words.

He struggles to ask what he really wants to but finds he’s too afraid.

Luckily, Thranduil seems to understand him--as he always does--and isn’t: “Indeed, my father has buried his heart in the coral stone above his throne; but, no, this does not necessarily mean I will also do this one day; it is very possible that I will never be king--we merms are an immortal race--and I am glad of that.”

~

“What about... to a person?”

Here, Thranduil stops his brushing and turns to fully look Thorin in the eyes--or, at least, he would if Thorin would allow it. Instead, the insecure dwarf looks away and at everything BUT the merm beside him. Thranduil rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Why, little dwarf king~ Are you offering yours~?”

The only thing louder than Thorin’s embarrassed stammers is his blush.

~

At it turns out, Thorin’s heart was not the only thing he gave to Thranduil.

Before he left, the young Dwarfking took the Elvenking aside and asked him: “What do I do? What did YOU do???”

To which Thingol simply said: “I gave him what I thought I could and would not, something I had foolishly thought no one else would ever deserve, and something I created for myself to represent and convey all of my love.

Thorin, ask yourself: what do you have that says and shows what you cannot?”

~

The answer, it turns out, had really been quite simple.

Long before the overtaking of the mountain by Thingol and back during the days of the original Dwarfking of Erebor, Thorin’s ancestor--Durin the Deathless--mined a stone from the depths of their mountain which seemed to endlessly absorb all light shined upon it. It was seen as an ominous magic stone--in fact, some even say it foretold the coming of the Elvenking and his oppression--and, thus, nothing was ever done with it: instead, it was hidden in Durin’s drawers and only ever spoken of to family; it is, perhaps, one of their darkest secrets.

But, to Thorin, this stone has always looked just a little blue.

The deepest, blackest midnight--or the depths of the sea.

~

It is with this stone that Thorin makes his courting gift.

A long mithril belt ladden with dark sapphires, black opals, black pearls, and even dark obsidian that wrap will Thranduil’s impossibly long tail--which, once, almost killed him; but, now, softens under his tentative touch and sometimes even holds him gently--with the light swallowing gem attached by a thin chain so that it may rest above the merm’s heart as though it has been given away...

He calls this blue-tinted/glossless gemstone His Blackheart.

And it is the mermprince’s--should he choose to accept it.

~

He does.

[rawrtriesagain]

Long post incoming idk how to do Read More on mobile, sorry. Tldr: just a post abt my writing as usual and stuff about my interest in lwa (nothing crazy)

I know I talk abt my old fuckin fics all the fuckin time (like Jesus theyre old enough to be considered toddlers now) but anyway this is my vent blog and y’all will never hear the end of it so guess what still has an absolute GRIP over my mind after 3 years

Its forest of arcan- im jk its dreamer of stars lmaooo. I reread it right now for the funsies after months of forgetting abt it, and each time I read it I think “surely I am over this story and can move on with my life” and like the first half of the story its like yea I kinda am over it haha but then the second half just obliterates the thoughts and runs me over and I just lay in my bed and contemplate my life and go into like a State of Emotions and simply have to talk about it (but it also could be because its 4am at the time of writing this)

I do think it mostly has to do with nostalgia though. Truthfully I’m probably not able to write smth like that again because it was 100% written completely on emotion and quite actually everything bad Diana was feeling in the story was smth i was also going through so it was easy to… write a vent and disguise it as a fic LOL. But I was also running on the high of being in love with my best friend which also really easily translated to everything going on in the fic blah blah nobody remembers it but me so this means nothing to anybody and im being cringe and gay on main (not even my main)

ANYWAY the point of my babbling here is that honestly I miss having that intense amt of emotions that would spur that level of creative writing? Like yea forest of arcana (not updated in over a year) is fun and all but it definitely isnt written on a personal level like dreamer was. I also just genuinely miss writing lol and its like ok bitch why dont you write then and then its like good question why dont i?? I probably still enjoy writing more than i do drawing and i know my blogs say otherwise but the two mediums are both definitely different outlets for my life. Maybe i would change my mind the day my art is actually good tho 😛

Im laffing rn seeing me talk abt this “deep” different outlets of life cause like when u think abt it im also literally just Currently describing little witch fanfic and fanart since thats all i do LOL. Not that theres anything wrong with lwa being my Muse of course, but it just adds humor in whatever the emo hell im going on about

Another side sad mini vent but i dont think im as into lwa as i used to be which also waters down my interests in doing things, but im literally not interested in any other media or fandom rn either so lwa stays my hyperfixation. Plz dont be alarmed lol im not saying im NOT into lwa anymore since diana is still a fuckin god to me like 10/10 chara design and vibes, but its definitely not as strong as it was when i first joined the fandom 3 years ago. And you know what maybe it has to do with me not watching little witch academia in full in those entire three years after i first watched it lmao. Most of the friends ive made in the fandom are pretty much gone too which is sad but is what it is. Sometimes i get a burst of seratonin when i think about smth diakko and definitely like now when i reread my fics i also remember the Emotions i had for these Gays and it like floods back for a bit like a buff.

I think something im very interested in for both the spark of writing and also the revitalization for my love for diakko is that i wanna do like a oneshot slice of life series for diakko. Just something easy, cute, subjectively funny, and a vibe. I still fantasize abt diakko shenanigans even if mundane and i wish i could also capture it more in my art but im not at that level yet, so writing it is. First i probably need to rewatch lwa in full since ive forgotten most everything except for key diana scenes haha oopsie And sucy world episode that was a good fuckin episode.

Anyway thanks for reading this far if you did lol sorry for the LONG ASS NONSENSE POST. Sometimes i see how i type in my blog and to people and compare it to my writing and its like where the hell did my comprehensive english go. Sorry if this was just hard to read from the lack of grammar and punctuation but thats showbiz anyway stay tuned for the next diana content ttyl bffl rofl xD zomg

[jpivblog]

Holy shit Congrats dude! 🎉🎉 I don't even have like maybe 30 reblogs on my profile lmao

lmao thanks... yea... ive had and have been actively using this blog since...

2012. so. its added up over time

as a semi-aside, tumblr is my longest used and also favorite social media exclusively due to tags and the archive page. i can quickly filter and look up cute pictures of cats, or funny posts, or impressive works of art from last week or 5 years ago or whenever. it is an incredible pinboard. the fact reblogging creates a "local" duplicate of the post that persists through deletions has prevented link rot from claiming a lot of those old posts too. sure i could save things locally (and i do) but its so good being able to access (my) tumblr from any computer anywhere. also i've had like 4-5 computer failures in the last 11 years

and you flat out cant organize or scroll through a twitter (it was never designed for that). if i remembered seeing and RTing a nice art on there but forgot the url then i'm shit outta luck unless it was within the last 2 weeks. on tumblr i can just go to the archive page and filter by my "nice art" tag to find it again. unparalleled.

[moonchild-things]

Chapter Thirty-Three: Future King

Summary: Shōyō Hinata loves volleyball! There is no doubt that all he really thinks about is volleyball. His sister, however, isn’t the same way. Sakura is ready to start her first year of high school at Karasuno with her twin brother and doesn’t really want to do anything, unlike Shōyō. Though she can’t help it when she gets dragged into the antics of the volleyball club.

Word Count: 4618

Blog Masterlist | Red Herring Masterlist | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

A/n: Another update let's goooooo!! This chapter is a bit short, but it's an original one and very, very angsty. Or at least I tried to make it angsty lol Hope ya'll like it.

---

JOJI ISN’T SURE HOW THE NEWS WAS going to go over well with his parents. Though no matter what they say, more like his father, he was going to go. It’s his final year at Karasuno, he’s going to do everything exciting with his friends. A Tokyo training camp? Yea, it will probably be tiring, but it’s an experience that Joji is more than happy with going through with his friends.

He has been to Tokyo plenty of times. Though to stay for a volleyball training camp was new. Not only that but the schools that he had heard from coach Ukai were some that he hadn’t heard of before. He couldn’t wait to see what kinds of guys went to those schools. After all, he quite liked Nekoma, who’s to say he won’t like Fukurōdani or Shinzen. The only downside would be that he couldn’t go around Tokyo and hang out there. What a bummer.

Getting home, his mother greeted him warmly and inquired about his day. They talked for a while over some tea before he went to his room to get some homework done. As he wrote out some of his math homework, his knee bounced under his desk. Joji might not admit it out loud but he was nervous. Talking to his family about the things he wants to do was always a toss up of emotions for him. On one hand, he was confident enough to do what he wanted, and wouldn’t be convinced to not do it. However, he was also insecure about what they would think about what he wanted. Things had been chosen for him for so long and making the decision for himself was usually a toss up. It wasn’t until recently that he was allowed to make them for himself. Even then he doesn’t do anything too drastic, really just staying in the volleyball club and going to Karasuno were the biggest ones that he had made. Perhaps he wasn’t given the chance to do it, but he didn’t make too many.

Soon enough, Joji found himself at the dining room table starting to eat his meal. As usual the dinner was more or less silent. Every once and a while, Eliza would attempt to make small talk but it never really led anywhere. Joji’s stomach was tied in a tight knot as he thought over how he was going to say that he was going to the camp. His mother would most likely be supportive to an extent, of course unless his father convinced her otherwise. Joji loves his mother dearly, but she can bend quite easily to the things her father wants. She could  be far too passive when up against her father, in Joji’s opinion.

The tense atmosphere wasn’t helping Joji with his plan to explain the camp to them. It really would only help contribute to his father’s disagreement to the idea. He knew that his father would not approve of the trip, but it wasn’t like Joji cared that he already knew what his father thought. The only way that he was going to get through this night was getting straight to the point. After all, even if Joji was going to make his own decision no matter what his father said, he still was allowed to know Joji’s plans.

“The team is heading to a training camp in Tokyo soon,” Endo started to say while munching on some dinner. His mother had made a wonderfully delicious plate of salmon for them tonight, and Joji loved it. Well, he loved anything that his mother cooked or baked, since she’s quite an artist in the kitchen, not just with her own art.

Eliza turned to him with a sweet smile, “Oh, really? That sounds like fun! They’ve never done a training camp that far away.”

Joji smiled at that, “everyone is really excited about it.”

Though through their happy moment, Hideaki himself had to cut through it with a knife. “I’m suspecting that you wish to go.” The room became chilly as they continued to eat. Eliza did her best to ignore the feeling that was wafting around the room, but that was hard with Joji starting to match the chilled atmosphere with his own slowly growing anger.

The normal anger that Joji got when his father made comments such as this was simmering under his skin. He hoped that tonight would be a night to get into another argument with his father, but he knew that he would be wrong. Joji held his father’s gaze with sharp eyes and didn’t waver, “Yes, I’m going.”

Eliza’s sunny disposition tried to break in between the two men, “How long is it?”

“A week.” Joji said monotony.

“I think it sounds wonderful, you could learn a lot-”

“You should not go,” Hideaki cut her off

Even though Joji wasn’t surprised with the denial, that didn’t mean he wasn’t any less angry and annoyed. He narrowed his eyes even further, “What?”

Hideaki knew that he was going to get “There’s no need to busy your time with a sports camp that will do little to benefit you in the future.”

Joji stared at him with a tight smile as he laughed humorlessly, “Why do you think you can control that, hm?”

“These… silly distractions from your future-”

“Distractions?” Joji scoffed in disbelief, “These aren’t distractions for anything.”

Hideaki shook his head, obviously becoming frustrated with this, “You chose to join this club in spite of what I want for you.” Why was his son being such a hassle? Over this club that he deemed unimportant. Hideaki is a practical man, and he didn’t deem it practical to be in a club that he didn’t see contributing to Joji’s future plans.

Joji just stared at him with a dumbfounded look. Was his father even hearing his own words? He blinked owlishly, “What you want for me? What about what I want?”

“Please,” Eliza said, trying to intervene before things got too out of hand, “let’s not fight about this.”

Though Hideaki wasn’t going to have any of that right now. After all this seemed to be a very important topic to talk through. “Eliza, it’s time we had this talk with him about any distractions that he has from what’s important.” He loves his wife, but from his point of view she babied their son far too much. Joji is becoming a man in the real world and he needs to face the facts. He stared down his son from across the table, “Do you even enjoy volleyball? What’s the point of busying precious time with silly things like playing a sport when you could be focusing on bettering your skills for your future in the company?”

Joji’s eyes twitched in annoyance, “A company that deals with the therapy and production of athletic prosthetics definitely has nothing to do with sports, huh?”

Hideaki sighed heavily, “What I mean is instead of going to a sports camp that will not have any benefit to you, why not stay home and study on medical practices to use during your time at the company. While having an understanding of the sport is a nice sentiment, the medical aspect of it is imperative to understand.” He could see his son’s reasoning about actually playing a sport, but that wasn’t necessary for their line of work. Even so, in Hideaki’s mind what’s more important research for the business would be to study medical techniques and practices not just playing one sport for years.

“And what if I want to have fun?” Joji asked, his teeth starting to grind, “Am I allowed to have fun?! I’m in high school, I should be having fun with my friends, right?!”

“Fun has nothing to do with your future-”

“MY FUTURE!?!” Joji exclaimed, his voice dripping in disbelief and bemusement. He had hit his boiling point it seemed. Sure, he’s put up with his father, and argued with him most of the time and all of it had finally hit its end. Joji started to seeth, “Stop trying to control every aspect of my life! I thought I would get to be left alone for the entirety of my high school career, that you wouldn’t interject yourself into every decision that I made, but it looks like I was wrong.”

Hideaki seemed slightly shaken at the shout and rant. Though he brushed it off, since he’s used to the angered exclamations from his dramatic son. He cleared his throat, “Well, I have to. You don’t look at the bigger picture.”

“I don’t want to look at the bigger picture, not now.” The boy scoffed, “Ever since you forced us to come to Japan, I was never allowed to be a kid, never allowed to have fun. Back in France, I could be a kid, I could play games, make mistakes, have fun. But the moment you dragged me here, you forced every decision you thought was best for me down my throat. The freedom that normal children have is something that I was never allowed.” 

Joji remembered all the times he was told ‘no’ to playing with the only friends he had, to going to places like zoos or parks, all because his father didn’t see it necessary. He didn’t have a childhood like a normal kid should have, he wasn’t allowed. All because of his father’s blinded view of his child’s life. It frustrated him to no end and while he did his best over the years to portray that frustration to his father, Joji always got nowhere with him.

“You were not a normal child. You were-”

“I WAS A CHILD!”

The dining room was nearly silent except for the heavy breathing coming from Joji. He was nearly shaking as he glared down at his father, the man almost looking shocked at the outburst. He’s seen his son mad at him, but this was a rage that he hadn’t ever experienced. Eliza appeared to be extremely upset at the palpable anger brewing between the two men.

“Mon chéri…” Eliza started to say softly, more than worried with how things were going to go. This was more intense than any argument that she has bared witness to. It felt heavier than anything else. She hates this. Hates it so much.

Joji didn’t even look at her as he commanded, “Mum, please go.”

“Joji-”

“This is between father and I.” He said sternly, still not looking at her. Whether that was because he didn’t want to or couldn’t work up the courage to, is clear. He let out a deep breath, “You don’t need to be dragged into it again.”

Hideaki also silently urged her to do it with a quick glance in her direction. He didn’t need to have her here since, in his mind, she wasn’t going to help either side with her indecisiveness. Even if she wanted to stay, Eliza could see from the hardened expression on their faces that they weren’t going to budge on the idea. Yes, she hates seeing her husband and son argue, but this felt heavier than the normal argument. So she left them to deal with whatever differences they needed to. She just hoped that it didn’t end up being a much bigger issue in the end.

After Eliza left quickly, all that remained was Hideaki and Joji in the dining room that was slowly becoming colder with each passing second. Neither man appeared as though they were really going to say anything. Hideaki didn’t seem to know what to say at all and Joji’s mind was racing so fast that he didn’t know where to start.

Hideaki sighed heavily while leaning back into his chair, “I never wanted this to upset your mother.”

Joji scoffed, “Well, we’re far beyond that point now. Years beyond that point. All because you wanted to dictate what I do in my life.”

“You don’t even know what you want in life.” Hideaki stated harshly, knowing that he was most certainly in the right about this. After all, he’s seen his son grow up not grasping onto anything to stick with it long. Though it’s not like he realized that it was due to anything he could have done while raising his son.

Joji bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making any loud outburst again. “That’s because I was never given a chance to explore things about life. Things that could interest me or that I might like to do in the future!”

Hideaki stared at his son for a long moment. Taking in those words. He didn’t really think about it like that, though how could that be wrong? “All to make sure that you focus on the future.”

“A future that you can’t even be sure that I wanted!”

A beat of silence passed between them. This had to be the longest time that either of them had spoken to each other. Due to Joji avoiding his father and Hideaki being too busy to be home to talk with his son. So it was like they were finally coming to a new revelation with things about this. Joji never would think about what reasons his father would have with forcing his decisions down his throat were anything else than selfish. The idea that Hideaki would think of anything other than himself or his business would never cross Joji’s mind. Though staring down his father with a heated glare and seeing how Hideaki’s eyes were starting to soften caused Joji to pause slightly.

In his own mind, Hideaki was starting to realize just how far he has pushed his son away. After all these years, the effort that Hideaki thought he was putting into helping his son in the future was all for naught. Forcing Joji to lose something as precious as his childhood had affected him, hurt him so much. Hideaki should have realized this sooner. It shouldn’t take his son shouting and screaming at him for Hideaki to come to this conclusion. This was far too overdue, he realized.

“I know.” Hideaki finally said, his tone just being slightly softer than usual, “I know that I have made mistakes when raising you. I should have been there for you more. I said some things that have hurt you. I should have been a more attentive father. Though I did it all for you.” He did his best to try and stress this point to him, since that was the only reason in his eyes. After all, he values his son more than anything in this world. How had that been misconstrued at some point? “I want you to be successful and not have anything to jeopardize that. All I wish is for you to have the opportunities that I never had as a child. Doors were never opened and remained shut until I forced them open with my achievements in business. It was tough and difficult and I don’t want you to have to struggle for it. I can see now that I was going about this the wrong way.”

It took a moment for Joji to process this. It certainly wasn’t something that he would have thought about his father doing. Maybe when he was a child he believed that his father wanted what was best for him, but growing up he felt like that was not true. His father proved time and time again that he didn’t care all too much about Joji’s thoughts and his interests, so he didn’t care what he thought. Though to now hear that all this time his father thought he was doing what was best for him… It just made Joji even more annoyed.

“Why didn’t you realize this sooner?” Joji asked, close to shaking at his fathers admission, “After everything that I’ve told you, after what mum has told you, you’re only now seeing the issues?”

Hideaki had the decency to look even slightly ashamed for his words, “I’m sorry.”

“You could have saved us so many hurt feelings, especially for mum. She was always put in the middle of this and had to pick sides. Go with her teenage son who just wants some freedom in his own life, or go with her demanding husband who’s got his head so far up his ass that he can’t even realize that he’s the reason his family is so torn!” That had to be another thing that pissed Joji off quite a bit. His mother had been in the middle of all of this for years, and Joji didn’t like that things couldn’t have been better for her not to worry about them. Though that never was going to happen, was it? Joji stood up from his chair leaning across the table to stare his father in the eyes. The anger emanating from him seemed to be keeping Hideaki in his spot as he stared at his son. “I have spent years thinking that you thought of me as nothing but your replacement. As soon as I became of age you’d train me to take your spot in the company and nothing more. I was nothing but a tool for you to use once you could no longer work with your company. And I tried, I tried when I was younger to live up to your expectations but nothing was ever enough for you.” He harshly spat, “I wasn’t smart enough, I wasn't devoted enough, I wasn’t focusing enough. So yea, that discouraged me quite a bit. I wasn’t enough for my father, who I thought of as my hero!” Joji wasn’t sure, but he thought he could feel hot tears trailing down his cheeks, though he ignored that. “Then every time I tried to venture out to explore things on my own like art or volleyball or anything not related to the company I was scolded and told to forget it. Do you know what it does to a child to constantly be put down for trying new things, things that I was proud of for a time?” Hideaki’s face lost any semblance of it’s stoney expression as he took all those words in. If Joji really thought about it, his father started to look… broken. Though Joji continued to rant, “So I don’t think you should be surprised that I “rebelled” against you when I made that deal with you to attend Karasuno. So yes, I’m angry with you for your instance to constantly keep having your input in my decisions. I’m angry that I never felt like my life was my own. I’m angry that you never even seemed to love me!” He was breathing heavily, getting so much off of his chest was certainly draining. At this point, he knew that he was crying openly. The only ones who had really seen him cry was his mother and Asahi, being this vulnerable with his father was never a thought to him. How was that possible? Just how broken was their family? He swallowed thickly, “but I can’t hate you. You’re my father, I can’t hate you like I want to. I still love you but it’s… it’s hard to just forgive what happened.”

There was so much to take in there. So many emotions, so many regrets. Hideaki was having trouble processing it. How does he respond? How could he make up for this? These years of pushing his son away and forcing him to view him as a selfish father. How had things become so horrible for them. How were they going to fix this?

“I’m sorry for everything. I just…” Hideaki rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was unable to look his son in the eyes, unlike when he usually scolded his son for something like shouting and arguing. Though his avoidance of eye contact may be because of just how upset Joji appeared to be. Hideaki has never seen his son cry, he didn’t think his son was capable of it since he was a child. Hideaki himself wasn’t much of a cryer either. Though at this moment he nearly felt like crying, for how emotional things had become between them. He tried to continue on through some choked words, “I wished to give you a stable job once you were old enough, a comfortable lifestyle for when you grew up. So I wouldn’t have to worry about you being lost in life.”

Joji stared at his father through his blurry vision. This was something. An apology was a start, he thought. Though just how far was an apology going to get them? He sat back down in his chair and stared at his untouched meal. “I appreciate the apology. But if this is some… manipulation tactic to convince me not to go to Tokyo, it’s not going to work. I’m going.” He said stiffly, with no means of arguing with his decision. “You think that you know me, that I’m not interested in volleyball, but I am. I might not see it as something that I’ll do as a career or that I’ll do in college, but I enjoy it. I like it enough to stay on this team, to be a part of it for three years. I am dedicated to this team, whether you believe it or not. You don’t know what I want, I suggest working on learning how to find that out, like a normal father should.”

Even after all the ranting and revelations, Joji still wasn’t going to trust his father. The apology was nice, but Joji wouldn’t put it past his father to do something like this. After all, it would take more than just a long talk to undo all the years of neglect and hate. It would take a long time to make up for those years and for his father to learn how to do better.

Hideaki just nodded his head stiffly, agreeing with that idea. He had plenty to make up for and had to learn how to properly parent his son. Though what would that do now? After all, his son is almost an adult. He had missed out on so much.

Nothing more had to be said as Joji just climbed to his feet and swiftly made a beeline for the exit. He barely even glanced at his mother who was standing right outside the dining room. She obviously had been eavesdropping on the argument, though Joji didn’t care. He just wanted to go to his bedroom and reflect on how much he just dumped onto his father.

He climbed up the stairs and clumsily made his way into his bedroom. Joji instantly plopped down onto his bed, more than content with trapping himself in the comfy confines of his bed and sleeping through the night.

He wanted to be alone. Sure, there was a part of his mind that felt like it wasn’t the best idea. There was no need to be stuck in his thoughts all by himself. It would do him no good to end up going down a road of self-loathing and annoyance towards his father. Though he didn’t think it would be a good idea to unload all his emotions on someone again. It would be better if he just stayed like this for a while. To help him process everything properly.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Joji didn’t know if he should cry or not. He felt like progress was most likely made with his father. That he probably could understand where Joji was coming from with how he was treated all his childhood. Though who knew if it went anywhere. His father was a stubborn man, which is where Joji got his stubbornness from. Joji could only hope that things got through to his father. It was better now or never.

---

Down in the dining room, Hideaki sat in his seat, having not moved an inch since his son left. It was taking much longer than he thought to calm down from everything that was said. He had wanted to talk to his son about what was going to come in the future, but Hideaki didn’t think it would end up like this.

Yes, revelations were made, but he didn’t think that they were all too good. He hadn’t even realized that it was that bad for his son. Joji had many grievances with how Hideaki wanted to get him ready for his future, but Hideaki didn’t think they had hurt him like this. Had he stolen his childhood from him? No. That couldn’t be right. 

Hideaki always told himself since he learned of Eliza’s pregnancy that he would be a good father. He would do everything he could to provide for his family. He missed out on a lot due to him being at work, but he was doing that to better the life for his family. He worked to get money, to secure the perfect life that he knew his wife and child deserved. Then while Joji was born he knew that he had to create the perfect path for his son. A straight pathway into a secure job that would help Joji live a life that he deemed luxurious and befitting of his pride and joy. How that ended up becoming something that Joji himself despised was not in Hideaki’s plans.

A gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder. It was a comforting touch that Hideaki had memorized years ago. It nearly broke him to have her comfort him as he sat in the dining room after that spat. A part of him loved that his wife was comforting him after such a jarring argument, but a part of him didn’t think he deserved it.

“I didn’t realize,” he said softly. He looked up to his wife, his eyes nearly brimming with tears. This had shaken him so much, Eliza could tell. Though she’s glad that it happened. 

She sighed heavily, “We tried to tell you. But you kept your plans at the forefront of your mind. Nothing could ever get through to you.” As much as she would like to comfort her husband to stop any pain that he might be feeling, she has to be truthful. Now with everything out in the open, she has to be a bit more harsh when it comes to going over this.

He looked up at his wife with a near broken expression, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She got out, her own eyes tearing up, “I should have tried more to get you two to understand each other.”

He shook his head, taking her hand into his own, “No. No. This is my fault, you’re as much a victim as Joji.” He was able to recognize at least that. Which made him feel even worse that he had done this to his wife, one of the last things he would ever want to do. “There’s… a lot that I have overlooked, a lot that I need to learn.”

“And I’ll help you.”

All Hideaki wanted was to set his son up with a kingdom of his own. Though he has an understanding now that he didn’t do it in the right way. That was one step in the right direction. It might be progress in this family, all that could happen now is waiting to see just how Hideaki would make it up to his family for all these years. He wasn’t going to just abandon the idea of his son taking over the company, but he knows that he should be more considerate when it comes to Joji’s opinions. He just hoped that it wasn’t too late.

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A/n: So how was it? Was it angsty enough. I wanted to get to this point for a while. Like a crescendo to Joji and his father's relationship. It finally has bubbled over and Joji's yelled his mind at his father and hopefully his father has taken this as a wake up call. Realistically, it's not going to happen so fast, but who knows.

Let me know what you thought of the chapter! Until the next one, my friends~!