#anyway I had a hard time rereading the books

[mierstaer]

i’ve been rewatching the maze runner movies and rereading the books in the past weeks and now my brain can only focus on them

[tanoraqui]

I genuinely think it’s good for the soul to periodically stay up to 5am finishing an entire book. It’s cleansing. It’s the best way I know of fully turning your sense of reality off and then, after you sleep, on again.

[benevolenterrancy]

if you're not reading the last book of SVSSS right now do you mind me asking what you are reading? I'm just curious!

Definitely! (though I warn you, I'm fundamentally incapable of reading only one thing at a time)

For physical books, I'm currently reading The Warden by Daniel M. Ford, the novelization of My Neighbour Totoro, and trying to keep up on Dracula Daily (i am failing this)

For audiobooks, I've been relistening to The Series of Unfortunate Events (because I never actually read them all when they were originally coming out) and I juuust finished This Census-Taker by China Miéville and Ogres by Adrian Tchaikovsky this weekend. I'm about to start A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers.

[aperfecta]

Writing down all the ideas for the second draft of the thing I'm working on has made me want to. Work on it. My therapist was right sometimes one small step is all it takes (or for me a dozen small fake-out steps before I finally take off running)

[herbertwest]

What is the name of Rumpelstiltskin's mom?

Mumpelstiltskin.

[a-passing-storm]

I need to study for Comparative Government and maybe read a summary of Fight Club* but instead I am scrolling through TMA fanart and planning a concert trip for tomorrow.

*Fight Club, because while I've read Hamlet a million times and I've read a lot of other literature recently, FC is the thing that I've spent the most time analyzing and remember character names well enough in to use it on the AP Lit exam. I have been told it counts as A Work Of Literary Merit by my very conservative AP Lit teacher, so she better be right.

[5soswfttwtaf]

sometimes it's so tiring to be me, the moral Ukrainian me. i find a new artist or person online i like and i become a stalker to see what they've said or haven't said about russia, about my country. every detail. it's so exhausting and time-consuming but i cannot stand seeing someone on my timeline who proudly talks about reading dostoyevsky or some shit

like I've read russian literature too, i never had a choice, after centuries of occupation and their influence, it was literally in our school curriculum. mandatory. I would have switched it for any Ukrainian reread anytime if i had had the chance. we have so many amazing authors (who were killed by russians but that's a topic for another time)

now I'm thinking about seeing one small artist on tour, considering traveling to a different country for her. she's a book girl, and I've been spending the last weeks just digging her every social media page, zooming in on photos of her bookshelves etc.

it's exhausting, and i wish more people understood how much even such small detail as reading someone's book can hurt people and literally drive them crazy.

I know i do this to myself and no one is forcing me to check every single person i see online—especially western people because let's be honest, most won't understand what I'm talking about anyway because "it's the war of the governments" and "russians have dictatorship and ordinary people are not guilty" and all that shit—but why is it so hard to find actual good people to be a fan of their art?

probably splitting rn hence such harsh b&w thinking but i had to spit it out because I'm tired of people constantly dismissing us when we warn them about the propaganda that is "russian culture"

[ebsmind]

⏾ SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE, GOT A SENSE I'VE BEEN BETRAYED | jack hughes x singer!reader

summary : how y/n found out vince cheated the first time

word count : 1.3k

warning(s) : cheating (poor baby y/n ☹️), arguing, mentions of k wording Vince, Vince is a fucking asshole (sorry lol), crying (i hate to see my baby sad)

a/n : AHHHHHHH okay okay this is my first written part and I hope I did it justice bc as much as I love angst, it's hard to write it! anyways, I'm glad I decided to do this because it challenges me to not only go deeper for yall to understand reader it also kinda makes you see what she had to put up with (what the fuck vince) okay that's all I had to say! send me asks about this series bc I love talking about teehee OKAY BYE ILY

series masterlist

The stars glisten upon the midnight-colored skies. The clock that sits on your nightstand on the right side of the bed, has officially struck midnight, signifying a new day. You turn a page of the book you're reading, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a re-read. The early January winds whip through the city of Seattle. Draped upon you is a lavender-colored fuzzy knitted blanket. Handmade by Vince's mom, Tracy.

In the far distance, you can hear the water leaving the showerhead; Vince is taking a shower. The thought of joining him crosses your mind, but you shake the thought away and continue reading. You go to turn the 129th page, but Vince's phone dings before the next page is revealed. It takes a small fragment of a moment for your eyes to find where it sits. Once you do, you make a B-line to its location. You don't notice how his phone was placed face down until you reach the dresser.

Your eyes burn holes into the back of the phone. The clock is ticking. The more time passes, the less time you have to decide whether or not you're going to snoop through your boyfriend's phone. Your internal dialogue fights between two actions: Pick up the phone and read the text messages waiting for a response, or ignore it and continue reading your book. The little devil on your right shoulder wins the battle.

Before you even think about any consequences if Vince were to catch you, you find your right hand already reaching for the phone. The screen illuminates your face, reflecting against the blue lenses that sit across the bridge of your nose. The first thing you notice is the time, 12:34 am. Who in the hell is texting him at this time? The second thing you notice is how Vince no longer has you as his lock screen. Instead, you're faced with a picture of him on a golf course with some of his buddies. If it weren't for the worry about who was texting Vince this late a night, you probably would have cared. The third and final thing you notice is the simple "D" that had given him a notification four minutes ago. You don't have to unlock Vince's phone to read the message, FaceID recognized your face the moment you picked up the phone.

D

goodnight, can't wait to see you tomorrow 💋

*one image*

Waves of anxiety hit you like a tsunami. You reread the text message over and over, thinking that it'll change every time your eyes scan the last half of the message. It's imprinted into your mind, no matter how hard you try, it will never go away. The thought of pressing the message to fully see the picture makes bile rise up in your throat. Knowing it most likely contained some type of nude picture. Whether it was a picture of some nice expensive midnight blue lingerie, maybe even clear water teal, or a picture of the girl's tits, it was going to taint you for eternity. You weren't stupid. Things like this happen to stupid girls, but not you. It couldn't.

You don't hear the water coming to an abrupt stop or Vince walk into the room until he questions what you're doing. "Why do you have my phone?"

Your head whips up to where Vince stands, at the door frame that connects his master bedroom to the master bathroom. His light caramel curls rest on his forehead, beads of water drip down his chest, and his right hand rests on the knot in the towel that's wrapped around his waist. You don't realize the tears that started falling just moments ago until Vince asks, "Why are you crying?"

The gut-wrenching sadness you once felt slowly simmers down and a deep rust color of rage clouds your vision. Without delay, you chuck Vince's phone at his chest and scoff.

"Why do you fucking think?" You wipe the tears that stream down your face with the sleeve of your cream-colored cotton long sleeve, mascara ruins the once-clean shirt. Vince contemplates whether he wants to deny or openly be truthful with you, he unfortunately chooses the first option.

"Babe, come on!" He looks away from the lasers that are practically coming out of your eyes. He knows deep down he's screwed.

"No, Vince! You fucking listen to me! You better be so fucking grateful that I leave first thing in the morning because I'd probably kill you if I didn't!" Lungs working overtime so you can get all of that out in one go. Vince still stands at the doorframe, he doesn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Who is she?" The question leaves your mouth under a breath, afraid of the answer that might leave Vince's mouth.

"I'm not telling you that." It leaves Vince's mouth at lightning speed, but you move even faster. Your feet carry you rapidly to where Vince stands, once he's in arm's reach, your hands start hitting his chest. You switch between curling your hands into a fist and punching, to slapping his chest. Uncontrollable sobs leave the depths of your chest, and tears cloud your vision to the point where you can only make out the silhouette of the man you never would have thought would betray you.

"I lo-lo-loved you! An-and you d-d-do this to me?!" Your sobs interrupt your ability to say the sentence in one go. Your body finally begins to feel the heartbreak. Your chest and nostrils burn, your head finally starts to pound, and your legs start to feel like jelly. Letting the sobs control your body and legs giving out, you finally accept defeat.

Your eyes close and you start to drop to the ground, this is a fight you aren't going to win. You wait for your body to hit the ground but it never comes, instead you're met with Vince's damp hands on your arms. He steadies you, "Woah, hey there. You're okay I got you."

Wasting no time, you shove the 6'0 man off of you, and before he can say anything else you spit out, "Don't fucking touch me."

Vince puts his hands up in defeat, "Okay! okay, I won't." Following Vince's response, you dash your way to the front door. The professional hockey player follows hot in your trail.

"Hey hey hey! Where are you going?" He tries to grab a hold of your shoulder to turn you around, your reflexes do you wonder and you shove his hand with all the willpower you have left. Disregarding Vince's question, you take your purse and suitcase -which had been placed right next to the door after you finished packing before you got into bed.

"I'm staying at a hotel for the night." Exhaustion hits your body, a bed -not Vince's- sounds amazing right now.

"No, stay. You leave in the morning."

"I'd rather be in some cheap hotel than spend another night with you." The backhanded comment leaves the boy stunned, you take it as your chance to finally leave. You unlock the door and guide your suitcase to follow you out the door. Vince never intervenes. You don't even bother looking back when you slam the door in his face.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it doesn't dissipate until you're sat on a hotel bed. The mattress is hard, but you've gotten used to it when touring throughout your career. You take notice that the comforter won't do you any justice during the night but that isn't the first thing that's disappointed you today. Tears that stopped falling start to pour again, your chest aches and your heart feels like it's missing. You take a moment to finally acknowledge everything that had happened 25 minutes ago, and once you forcefully come to terms with it, you fall into a deep sleep. Not noticing the 64 missed calls and messages from Vince.

[chaos-interwoven]

aftg floor plans

not that anyone asked but the way my brain works means that any time i read anything, i am piecing together every room, every house, and every space. i need to create an image in my head so i can see the characters in it and see how they interact with the space. except it’s always vague and sometimes a throw-away line places a window or a wall where i didn’t think it was and i have to redo the entire space in my head…… it’s a struggle but after so many times rereading aftg, i have a pretty solid idea

this is just a long way of saying i have decided to take what’s in my head and make it into reality and i have made floor plans for aftg lol

so far, i have done the foxes’ dorm (both how i think the entire floor is laid out and each of their three rooms), wymack’s apartment, and abby’s house. i plan on doing the cali places later, don’t even worry

of course tumblr is corrupting the quality but in my head there are five rooms to each side of the hall and the stairs are right next to the monsters' room. that stray white box is an elevator supposedly.... i had no idea how or where the elevator should be so i just kinda threw it there, don't laugh. and we know the soccer kids live on their floor so they have the rooms across the hall

i placed everything based on descriptions gathered from the first four books (thank you jean for telling us they do in fact have stoves even if they are just two burners). i gave kevin's desk an extra monitor to watch games on lol and andrew has to be by a window to smoke out of it. also, the beds are bunked. i know this looks big but it was hard to get the spacing right..........

for the girls, i mirrored the monsters' room because i know that piping tends to make apartments laid out so kitchens or bathrooms are back to back with your neighbors. they also get a fancy extra chair and a bigger tv bc allison is rich and you can't tell me their room wouldn't have the nicest furniture. i feel like dan would have the bottom bunk, renee the top, and allison the lone lofted bed but that's just me lol

we know matt and neil shoved their three desks by the windows and in my head, matt and neil's bunk is on the left while seth's lofted bed is on the right. and matt and neil have their dressers underneath seth's bed and his is by the window

this was actually interesting because we know that the front door is out of sight from the doorway of the study and that there are windows in the living room so i put in this turn to the hall. again, the space looks huge here but that's mainly because i didn't want to have to shrink and rearrange all the walls over and over again

abby's was the hardest by far. i went back and scoured the books for more information about her house because i was struggling and have struggled with it since my first read through. we know that there is a doorway to the kitchen (so i couldn't give her the open floor plan i wanted) and that the bedroom jean stayed in was just down the hall from the bathroom. i ended up giving abby her own master bath just because i felt like it but i have no idea if that is canon. and the hall bath seemed too large so i put in a laundry room randomly but whatever. we also know she has a two car driveway so i made the shape of the house a little funky. and in my head, during summer break aaron and nicky stay in one bedroom and andrew and kevin are in the other one. i put kandrew in the bedroom down the hall because it is farther from the front door and andrew would like that imo. that is also the bedroom jean is in after renee takes him from evermore. and of course she needed a huge dining room table to fit everyone

ANYWAY, if you made it this far i am surprised and thank you for entertaining this. i can also share all the passages i used to piece together these floor plans cause they are all bookmarked but that felt like too much to include here and i doubt anyone cares. feel free to debate wall placements in the comments, i would love to talk to you about it as you can probably tell

and if literally anyone is interested, i can and will make these in the sims and then they will be real cute and colorful floor plans. i will probably do it anyway for my own enjoyment but whether i post them is up in the air

pt. 2 pt. 3 (cali)

[traincat]

Your Spideytorch fics are handsdown my favourite in the fandom and I re-read them more than I'm brave enough to admit but the one where Johnny was a virgin made me absolutely OBSESSED! And anything with Peter being protective/possessive is S-Tier and I started wondering if you have any thoughts on how Peter could've been protective of him after the Lyja nonsense since comics never really handled that the way they should've [and still don't]

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like my fic enough to reread it at all, let alone multiple times.

I also love Peter being protective/possessive (two sides of the same coin with him?) and just like, slowly cluing into all the terrible things that have happened to Johnny beyond just superhero stuff as they begin a relationship. And then being absolutely ready to snap something or someone in half.

An interesting thing is that Peter is more aware than most about what went down with Lyja. He's witness to some of it, even.

(Fantastic Four #299) "You're getting married? You?!?" Okay big talk from the man who would also be married within like five months. (Their weddings happen extremely close to each other.) So Johnny and "Alicia's" wedding was supposed to be a small, private affair which is, you know -- it's interesting. On the one hand, I can see Johnny wanting a small, intimate wedding because he is, at heart, a romantic. On the other hand, looking at the big picture, it does feel a little suspicious that he just didn't want to hype up his marriage at all or announce it anywhere or talk about it. Peter, Wyatt, and Jen are basically the only people in his life who know, and while that is basically the grand total of his personal social circle, it's easy to single Peter out here because Jen was on the FF at the time and Wyatt was dating her.

Anyway, to fast forward through Johnny's incredibly boring marriage and get to the point where it stops being boring but starts being actively terrible, Peter also reaches out to Johnny when he finds out he's "getting divorced." (He and the real Alicia are filing papers to dissolve the marriage Johnny had with Lyja, who at this point of time was thought to be dead.)

(FF #362)

And by "reaches out" I mean "annoys into a chase through New York City." But it's fine because he did it to make Johnny feel better, actually.

(FF #362) They're normal.

It should be noted at this time that Johnny was trying to attend college for the third time. (The first time being State U, where he dropped out because he was clearly trying to get his M.R.S. degree instead, and the second time being the Evil Supervillain College Peter rescued him.) He's attending ESU, which is Peter's alma mater.

Anyway, uh, Johnny's College Try Number Three isn't going to work out either, for different reasons than him kicking his feet and twirling his hair and thinking he's going to get married at nineteen or because he's actually being kidnapped by an evil hypnotist.

Because Lyja's not dead!

(FF #370) There she is. In her Revenge Assless Chaps.

Anyway, she tries to kill him and essentially forces him to go nova to save his own life, and in the process he burns down ESU. (No one dies in the fire, which is comic book logic, considering when he goes nova he explodes, but whatever.)

Johnny is arrested for the fire but, while being led through an angry crowd, he sees Lyja in the crowd, understandably freaks out, and flies away. Peter, who had been photographing Johnny's arrest for the Bugle, reacts.

(FF #372) "Oh, Johnny... what have you done to yourself? Can anyone save you now?" To be fair, Peter does protest coming down hard on Johnny in the Bugle, but it's also, you know, his job.

To Peter's credit, he does try. He spends hours swinging around in the rain, looking for Johnny, who is currently huddled among a bunch of garbage bags because he could not possibly be a sadder or wetter sad wet kitten.

(FF #372) "Even he's turned against me!" Johnny, though, traumatized and terrified, thinks everyone is out to get him.

Once Johnny is actually booked, Peter is there to take the picture, too. Rough.

(FF #376)

And then in the Spider-Man 1995 Christmas Special, Johnny and Peter discuss The Fake Egg Baby Drama, although not in great detail.

So Peter is about as aware of the situation as anyone who wasn't along for the ride the entire time. I'd say Wyatt probably knows more, but Peter's more in the know than most.

Peter's got a lot of his own stuff going on during this time period. (When doesn't he.) Very notably, at the same time Johnny was getting arrested, the Android Parents plot was happening over in Amazing Spider-Man and The Death of Vermin was happening in Spectacular Spider-Man, so Peter kind of had other things on his mind, and while it hadn't quite arrived yet, the Clone Saga was looming on the horizon. So yeah, a lot going on.

One thing that always interests me as a little experiment is to imagine what canon looks like if you get Johnny and Peter together at like -- any point in it. So what does it look like if, after Lyja's initial death, Peter and Johnny start a relationship? (You do have to discount the Spider-Marriage for this, but hey! Marvel already did that so there are no rules. She and Gwen are living in a luxury condo in Los Angeles.) Peter is very protective, and I can see him taking the Lyja situation very, very badly. He would definitely be suspicious about the egg baby and I can see it causing drama, because he'd want to support Johnny but he'd want to be rational about things, which is not Johnny's strong suit.

I do also like the idea of Peter finding Johnny while he's looking for him while Johnny's on the run and hiding him from the authorities while Peter tries to unravel exactly what happened and exonerate Johnny. Like a less fun roommates issue! Although Johnny could still cook in his underwear.

I think, no matter what, in a Spideytorch post-Lyja setting, once Peter and Johnny do get together, Peter will start slowly putting together the pieces that the Lyja situation was much, much worse than he initially believed, and that's going to cause drama, especially since Johnny tends to downplay his drama. I could see Peter getting into a fight with Sue over the fact that she invited Lyja to stay after Johnny told her he never wanted to see her again and just generally being very angry, and I think Johnny would have complicated feelings about that. On the one hand, Peter being protective over him is nice, and it's not something he's really had before, but on the other hand, he does downplay that trauma, and he's convinced himself things weren't that bad. It's fun to think about the different scenarios!

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 5

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey, Injury, Blood, Guns

Trigger Warning: Injury, Blood, Guns

Chapter Summary: He had pushed against all odds, defying every word they described him. If you let him kiss your wounds, he hopes you will kiss his real name in return.

Author's Note: Rereading Beastars in my spare time made me understand why people tend to wait for a series to finish even if it takes YEARS. Anyways, I am also catching up on Ancient Magus Bride as well. Really inspired me to draw better. Will I draw art for this series? Maybe?

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

5: My Dearest, Frustrated

A walk usually helps you clear your head.

There are a few things you missed about the place that you used to live with your father. When the sewing machine refuses to cooperate and your fingers are beginning to tremble from hand stitching delicate fabrics, you always find your feet carrying you around Bloomshore District.

It is one of the only few places in the country where humans and hybrids can co-exist but even then, it still has its fair share of problems hidden beneath the idyllic place, subtle words and looks laced from mostly humans who believes you owe it to them that they see you as civilized.

Unfortunately, a short walk is one of the many privileges you have to let go when you move here in the N109 zone.

Today, everything is slowly becoming frustrating.

A slight pressure from your foot will have the sewing machine run too fast, out of control, and you are getting tired of ripping the seams of the same stitch too many times just to repeat the same mistake.

If you are not too careful, you might actually end up starting all over again because you have already stretched the expensive fabric too much.

Your father is very wise in accepting requests and even when you are fully booked for every month, he makes sure you have enough on your plate that you still have breathing space and keeps the business afloat.

Still, there are cases that clients often go straight to you to ask for favors.

Just like that sweet baker.

A sheep hybrid, a former close neighbor who also moved with you and your father here, asked you personally if you can prioritize her order. She was hesitant at first, saying that you can turn her down if it is a bit too much but you don’t mind, especially when it is her and her husband’s wedding anniversary and the offer of strawberry shortcake in return was something you can't resist.

It was supposed to be easy.

Then, the needle of the sewing machine hit the zipper, the sound was too loud as it thud harshly against the same spot and you panicked, stepping on the pedal too hard.

No.

No.

No!

No amount of ripping the seams would salvage this fabric now.

You wanted to cry but the sound of your frustrated scream remained deep in your chest and your lips trembled.

This is the only thing you are good at. You can’t fail at this. This is what feeds you and your father, what keeps the roof above your heads, one late order can affect the reputation of this shop and then you have to go back-

You don’t want to go back.

Mpehisto tilts its head at you, its optics zooming in to see the pinpricks of tears on the corner of your eyes and notices you are biting your bottom lip too hard.

It immediately pieced together that you are clearly upset so it did what it usually does to comfort you.

It does the dance.

Yes, that dance.

The steps are fairly simple.

Three little hops (Right, left, center. It should go in that order!), a twirl with its wings spread wide and then ends with its tail wagging, a dramatic bow.

Usually, that makes you clap at its performance and giggle softly.

Yet, you did not react at all when it tried to do the ‘silly dance’ as you called it in front of you just now.

What’s wrong? 

Why aren’t you laughing? 

Did it not do the twirl well enough?

Did it not practice enough?

“You should go home, Daisy,” you said quietly.

But it doesn’t want to go. This is exactly why its master sends it here after all.

To look after you, to listen to you. 

It is your confidant as much as it is to its master.

Daisy only stared back at you and you sighed, standing up and then opening the window wider.

“Come on, Daisy,” you beckoned, trying hard not to sound curt but failing miserably, “I am sure your nest needs a crow.”

It seemed to hesitate at first, flapping towards your windowsill and if crows can frown, Mephisto certainly did when the kiss you gave on top of its head was too forced.

The mechanical crow gave you one last look before flying away and there is only one thing running in its mind after it sent Sylus its data-

-If it can’t comfort you, then its master should surely know what to do.

────────────────────

There are people who are as stubborn as a mule.

It has been a terribly long day and Sylus’ initial plans of visiting you have already been delayed by an hour. 

An hour.

He has interacted with different kinds of people, humans and hybrids alike, but this one, this particular human takes the crown as the most annoying business partner Sylus had dealt with.

“These firearms are overpriced,” the human tried to haggle with him and Sylus has to commend this nuisance for not even trembling on his presence.

Such is the pride of every human, he supposed, the weakest among the bunch always think they are more superior to the strongest hybrid.

“The prices are non-negotiable,” he replied coldly, his eyes narrowed towards the human who is examining the firearms too many times and he is stopping himself from rolling his eyes because the human clearly thinks they are fake, “They are high-end models. Do you want them or not?”

This dragon is harder to bully than the rest. Most hybrids would cower to any demands laid down by a human but there is always that one hybrid among the rest who does not back down, even with threats.

You would have expected a rare hybrid would value his life more and concede just to survive but no, not this beast.

What does this beast call himself again? 

Right, Sylus. 

The hybrid who had built this city that is now crawling with his fellow abominations.

The brute must have been so lonely that he worked tooth and nail so that he carved out his own empire with his own subjects.

Of course, the human did his research ahead and who would have thought, this thing feared even by his kind actually had a heart.

These beasts run their mouths so much that he heard that Sylus over here is doting over a deer hybrid.

He stooped so low that of all the hybrids he could pick from, he chose a docile deer.

A complete opposite of him.

Now the human can’t help but wonder.

Is that poor deer Sylus has chosen his emergency ration or a feast for a special day?

“I do, but inflating your prices would not be too good for your business, don’t you think?”, the human asked.

This insolent human is so amusing, isn’t he?

“You’re not in any position to lecture me on how I should run my business,” Sylus answered, a subtle hint of anger creeping in his face.

This negotiation should have clearly ended earlier but Sylus still has half a mind to be at least cordial to these imbeciles whether he likes it or not, the last thing he wants is for the police to start sniffing again after he had paid them a hefty sum.

Sylus didn’t bother to know their names and he can hear the human whisper with his companions. 

These people. 

Barging here, demanding for quality goods, and then suddenly doubt their authenticity? Maybe they shouldn’t even be here.

He took a sip from his glass, the whisky burning on his throat when a certain weight pressed down on his left shoulder.

Mephisto?

His mechanical crow let out a caw.

How odd. 

His companion is basically glued to you at this point. Isn’t this one supposed to be hanging around you at this hour?

Did something happen? No, he had set up security alarms around your shop, he would have known if something or someone triggered it.

Sylus frowned at Mephisto, not caring if he was in the middle of business and his crow projected a hologram in front of him, just small enough for his eyes and the volume low.

“Go home, Daisy.”

No wonder why Mephisto is here.

You are clearly upset over something and oh, Sylus will certainly drop everything he is doing when he sees those pinpricks of tears in the corner of your eyes. 

His precious deer does not get easily upset, always patient and the look of frustration is a foreign expression Sylus had never seen before.

Whoever made you cry should certainly wish they had a plot already reserved in the cemetery.

“Deal’s off,” Sylus said, immediately standing up and his tail flicking in annoyance.

This conversation had already run past its course anyways and he had more pressing matters to attend to than listening to a human haggle with him until he gave his wares for free. Unbelievable.

“What?! You're leaving? You can’t just walk away-”

“Watch me.”

“You’re going to regret this, Sylus!”

The exit to the warehouse slammed shut and it was clear to everyone inside that no exchange was going to happen.

Sylus knows he could go look for another customer. There will always be another human or another hybrid who is willing to pay the price he had set.

The threats thrown by the human faded into white noise and the only thought running in his mind is that he needs to get to your shop as soon as he can. The human can go on and on about putting his head on a silver platter and even then, he could hardly care when he eats those words for breakfast.

His business can wait.

He had to wipe away those tears first.

The dark thread wind against the empty bobbin, your foot stepping on the pedal to refill it. After Daisy left, you have set aside the dress for now and have decided to work on Mr. Sylus’ shirt.

Sewing his clothes has become a regular task for you and because of that you don’t have to look at his measurements anymore because you already have it memorized.

Even when it is such a warm, sunny day here in the N109 zone, today is not your day from the looks of it but you are still struggling to accept that fact, pushing yourself to just work on something, anything so that you have at least progress.

Just one shirt. Anything. The fabrics have to come together and take a new shape today.

As much as you love random visits from your clients, you really hope none of them would come inside your studio. Not today because you are very close. Very close to snapping because the threads are refusing to listen to you, the end of the thread of the bobbin now stuck.

Again.

Now you have to manually unwind it.

Again.

You let out a sharp inhale, removing your foot from the pedal while you slowly untangle the thread and your hands faltered when the door opened to reveal the person you specifically hope to not come over, your anger and frustration mixing together and now simmering under the surface.

“Hello, Skye,” you greeted, your voice slightly strained but you still gave Mr. Sylus’ messenger the best smile you have, even if it was slightly forced.

Sylus’ gaze moved up and down, checking for anything that might be out of place but aside from the usual mess of threads that hang on your antlers every time you work, you seemed fine.

Except, not just your usual cheerful self.

“Hello, sweetie,” he greeted you, taking quick strides until he was standing beside where you were sitting, “Everything alright?”

Of all times your favorite visitor has to come over, it has to be today where all you want is to be left alone but you don’t want to be rude, you know Skye must be busy, being Mr. Sylus’ messenger/bodyguard/boss henchman, but he still made an effort to go here so you just sighed in defeat, thinking you should still be at your best behavior.

“I am fine,” you replied but the answer came out on your mouth too clipped, the corner of your lips twitched slightly.

“Something’s bothering you, miss seamstress.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Always a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

“I am not,” you replied, closing your eyes briefly to reel in the irritation threatening to break the surface only for you to once again step too hard on the pedal, the needle you just replaced running diagonally across the fabric and you let out a yelp, the sharp object piercing your finger.

“Darling-”

You were able to pull back just in time, letting go of the pedal and cradling the injury close to your chest.

“Let me see,” Sylus kneeled in front of you, his heart racing when he saw you curling up on your chair in silent pain and sobbing quietly.

You shook your head at first, trying to calm yourself.

“Please, sweetheart.”

His voice was soft, close to a plea, as if he is coaxing you, the frightened deer to step closer, that he meant no harm.

“Let me see how bad it is,” he pressed further, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging it gently, waiting for you to loosen up.

Hot tears stream on your face but you finally let him check your wound, blood slowly pouring out.

It is a nasty cut, the needle that pierced your skin is certainly sharp and brand new, but with a quick clean-up, your wound should heal before you even know it.

“Sweetie, this is a pretty deep cut,” Sylus said softly, wrapping your injured finger with his own white handkerchief, the blood staining the fabric but at least it would stop the flow while he looked for a first aid kit.

He stood up, thinking of stepping out to ask your father where you keep the medical supplies even if your father’s first assumption might be because he finally decided to pounce on you, that he had a moment of weakness and decided to have your finger as an appetizer.

“Skye.”

Sylus heard you call out his name, his false name, but he was so used to it that he immediately spun around before he could even turn the handle of your studio door.

“I keep the bandages in the washroom,” you said quietly, your eyes moving at the door to your right.

“I’ll be back in a moment, sweetie,” he told you and you watched him walk towards the direction of the washroom, your ears perking upon hearing him opening the cabinet doors.

Must there always be a wound for you to realize that you are letting your emotions ahead of you?

It is an innate survival instinct, aside from the antlers that you also lose during the winter, to keep your emotions at bay because your naturally docile kind has nothing to protect themselves aside from sticks and stones.

Better to lay low than alert unwanted company, better to stay still for a moment than forever.

You watched him kneel in front of you again, taking your hand with the injured finger and unwrapping the white handkerchief before setting it aside. There is nothing but focus on his gaze, no hint of the dilated pupils that predator hybrids have when they catch a scent of blood.

“I can take care of it,” you said quietly, trying to pull away your hand but he held on to it firmly.

Afraid. You are afraid to see the reality of this uncommon situation where you have grown to cherish one of the few hybrids in the N109 zone and prove everyone’s words right-

“Dragons eat their prey alive.”

-That he and you are indeed very, very different.

Your heart skipped a bit when he moved your finger closed to his lips and his gaze trained towards you, a permission. Even then, his eyes remained the same. The same crimson eyes that looked at you fondly every time you talk.

There is no hint of hunger, no hint of any desire to devour you.

For a moment, you and him are almost close to being humans, just two conscious beings.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

“You won’t?”

“I would never harm you.”

You nodded slowly, a yes, and he took your wounded finger towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss at your fingertip before licking the cut, his tongue warm.

Vigor. Most predator hybrids specifically go to the black market for this. For blood. Sylus refused to partake in it, mostly because he is already powerful in his own right and he refused to be dependent on such.

The words are true, it is incredibly potent, just one drop alone. Your skin is soft, your blood sweet yet call it sheer willpower because he is not going to let those primitive instincts kick in, even when his sharp canines beckons him for a little nip.

Just a small bite.

It was never hunger that drove his attraction to you.

It was companionship, a longing.

May this be the lying dragon’s proof to you of his undying devotion, likely the last of his kind, the lonely fiend, a lowly liar, liar, liar, undeserving of your affection but here he is, on his knees, silently begging for more and never in his waking days and fitful nights he had ever dreamt of even laying a finger to the deer who willingly stepped out of the blurry line of her paradise to his so she can have a better look at the monster wearing a false name hiding in the foliage of the dark forest.

Let this be his unspoken promise from him to you. 

Let his actions be witness that he is nothing but honest to the affections he had reserved just for you.

There was a moment of silence that settled between the two of you, Sylus focused on cleaning your cut and even when the taste of you lingered in his tongue, he had swore in himself to wash it off, to never succumb to its allure.

“I was bad at Daisy,” you said softly, guilty at how you treated your little assistant. It even did the silly dance to cheer you up but you just looked at it, never giving it praise that it deserves.

Were you that frustrated? You really hope your crow friend visits again soon so you can apologize.

“I am sure Daisy understands, miss seamstress,” Sylus replied, dabbing your wound with antiseptic. He already played the rest of the recording on his way here, witnessing your frustration.

“I was mean to you too,” you added, your voice softer that you are unsure if he even heard you.

But Sylus did not miss your quiet confession laced with guilt. It seems that you are never used to expressing your anger, how you opt to stray away instead of lashing out, your deer and human sides clashing on processing such.

“I know you didn’t mean it, sweetie,” he answered gently.

He isn’t foreign to this. How many times did he lash out when he was young? He doesn’t even choose his targets, his anger directed at either hybrid or human, anyone who is in front of him. The anger still remained, the anger of losing his sense of belonging but it became bearable to carry, the burden smaller now.

Time made him realize that even when he might be the last of his kind, he certainly is not the last hybrid.

“There you go. All better now, sweetheart.”

The heavy emotions lingering in the air slowly drift off, replaced by a certain understanding only the two of you have, a deal Sylus has sealed by pressing another kiss on your bandaged finger.

His little doe, a genius in her own right, having a rainy day. It was obvious based on the state of your working desk and what he saw that your materials are refusing to follow the instructions of their beautiful maestro, refusing to follow the beat she has set.

His knuckles traced the path of your tears, pressing his lips on them, kissing away the lingering frustration while your sobs slowly turned into quiet whimpers.

“How about I sing it away until you forget it even ever existed, hm?”

He didn’t wait for you to reply, his baritone voice filled the room, soft. The high and low notes seemed to tumble out of his lips with no sense of consistency that you finally cracked a smile when he finished.

“You have a very silly way of singing, Skye,” you pointed, stifling your giggle.

Oh so his mechanical crow’s dance that he programmed himself was labelled as a ‘silly dance’ and now you are calling his singing ‘silly’ as well? After the effort he put on that little song.

“It’s called ‘unique’, miss seamstress, not ‘silly’”, he playfully corrected you, pinching your cheek and he grinned further when that familiar cheerful smile was slowly returning on your adorable face.

“Can you do it again for me soon, Skye?”, you asked, “If you don’t mind?”

Ah, his little deer, becoming so bold in asking for favors. Back then, you used to be so hesitant because you were worried you might be imposing on him.

“I will sing for you day or night as often as you want me to.”

His reply seemed to perk you up, your tail wagging and you glanced at the ruined shirt you were sewing for Mr. Sylus. The frustration of not getting it right seemed to ebb away and now replaced with a new determination but perhaps, that energy is reserved for tomorrow once your head is clearer.

“Can you also tell Mr. Sylus I am not delayed on his requests?”, you asked again but this time, slightly hesitant, “I am still on track, I promise.”

“I will. You’re never anything but efficient, miss seamstress,” Sylus answered. He already knows you always meet your deadlines, that you are such a diligent tailor that knows the importance of each clothes you make to your client.

There will be a time this game of pretend shall come to an end and he had always looked forward to that day but for now, his identity does not matter much to him.

Right now, as long as he sees his beautiful deer, unharmed, then-

-Everything is right with the world.

────────────────────

“Are you sure you are alright?”

Your father asked you again but you don’t mind, nodding before you took a bite of the salad he prepared for dinner.

“Yes, I think I am just a little stressed lately,” you answered, fiddling with your fork.

“I mean with your visitor earlier,” your father said quietly and his eyes lingered at your finger wrapped with a red bandage.

He doesn’t exactly dislike Sylus, no, far from that. Only a few people hold a certain respect for the dragon hybrid who was kind enough to let people settle here and he is one of them. If anything, he is more than grateful for his support.

Yet, uttering his name out loud when he is not around, your father always thinks he is going to summon Sylus by accident, knowing the dragon is always listening, especially when it comes to you.

“Oh, yes, it was a very pleasant visit.”

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

“But I am,” you replied, slightly confused as you tilt your head at him. “Skye didn’t do anything bad.”

Skye.

He still doesn’t know why you address Sylus as such. Is it a nickname only you and your favorite visitor understand? Perhaps it is because Sylus never bothered to correct you.

Your father is more than aware you are a very terrible liar ever since you are a child. Your bluntness does not come across sarcasm but an observation, and even when you lie, there are always tell tale signs.

Yet, right now, you are completely honest that you find Sylus’ visits enjoyable and it is undeniable you two are becoming closer. How your scent clung on the dragon hybrid’s horns, how Sylus is staying longer than usual, and the recent development-

-That cut on your finger was tended by the man himself.

Perhaps his worries are for nothing, that Sylus indeed has genuine intentions.

Still, when you almost lose everything, any new change comes with doubt and uncertainty.

Your father just smiled, piling more food on your plate and his gaze moved behind your back, at the shelves where both of you kept the expensive china gifted to your shop by one of your clients, towards the little drawer where the keys are kept and-

-He hopes that the little package wrapped in old newspaper will forever remain unopened.

────────────────────

Luke and Kieran had to immediately cover their noses when they caught the scent of blood in the air.

Let the humans in white coats tinker with you long enough that you will be able to pick out which scent belongs to who and well, this new scent is particularly potent.

Their pupils dilated and they looked at each other, their hands trembling and dropping the sheep plushies they were working on.

It wasn’t the first time they smelled blood. It is a general scent in the N109 zone after all but this one, no, this one utterly horrified them.

No, it can’t be.

Soft cotton and wildflowers. Springtime. Soil thawing out after a long winter.

This is yours.

No, that’s not possible.

Boss is a dangerous man but he isn’t a damn animal but what if-

-The blood spilling from your neck staining the fabric, the tailor’s chalk on the wooden floor and your hand, lifeless and pale, reaching for it but only for you to never do. 

It was an image too much to bear.

Sylus barely even touched the handle to the double doors of the base when it opened wide, the twins immediately going after him.

“Boss, what did you do to her?!”, Luke yelled at his face, his knife immediately going after his throat.

There is only one thought running in their heads.

They will kill him, even if he is leagues stronger than both of them combined.

Kieran was quick, aiming for his abdomen but Sylus is quicker than these two.

Prior from taking them in, these two tried to end him before so it has been awhile when he has seen the twins with their hackles raised, their tails tucked between their legs, and yes, snarling at him.

“Back down. Now.”

“We trusted you!”

“And I trusted you two not to jump to conclusions.”

This little display made him realize he still has more to teach to these wolf cubs that just end up following him but he doesn’t blame them. 

Any predator hybrid who doesn’t keep themselves in check would always jump toward its source, conscience gone and natural instincts kicking in without them realizing it.

Incredibly potent. An irreversible addiction.

He pulled out the handkerchief and the twins’ immediately covered their noses with their hands, turning away and flinching from the object.

“She had an accident while working earlier,” Sylus explained, returning the cloth back to his pocket but even then, the two refused to put down their hands.

“Is Miss Deer alright?”, Kieran asked.

“It’s nothing serious,” Sylus assured the two.

The two still stepped further from him, as long as he had that handkerchief with him, there is no way they are coming near the boss, even if he orders them too.

It was too overwhelming. Every blood from a prey hybrid is a trigger for a century old trait that should have faded away. They don’t know how the boss does it, how he is awfully calm even when they are close to salivating just from the scent alone.

Detestable. Their bodies acting against their wills, close to forcing them to step closer.

“Boss, we have to go,” Kieran said weakly.

“Then go,” Sylus said and the two wasted not another minute, disappearing back at the base and away from that scent.

Sure he is a fiend.

But he is certain he isn’t a lunatic.

And he has a strong will, relentless.

Even if he has his first taste, he isn’t a man that will back down on his oath.

.

.

.

Afterall, he is as much a human as he is a dragon.

────────────────────

Author's Note: This was based on an experience where I actually did had this accident and boy, it hurt like hell HAHA

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

jason trying to flirt and reader freaking out gives me life. (dw jason i bet she wants to kiss you too (if she doesnt i might))

When you hesitated to name a book, afraid of being mocked maybe. Or afraid to be vulnerable, Jason took a shot in the dark. Looking up at the shelves. Looking for something well loved. Something you'd keep where you could reach it whenever you wanted comfort. Something you held close to your heart. That you'd read and reread. Worn but not destroyed. Venerated. It would almost feel like something sacred.

Every lonely kid had that book.

And when he locked eyes on it, he smiled. He got up off the floor and walked across the room, aware that he was being watched. He could feel a prickle of warning. A crackle of anxiety tugging at him. And he forced himself to breathe. Yeah, it was a kiddie book. A whole set of them. But, you liked books with happy endings.

"Convert me?" Jason hummed, "I never really liked fairy tales."

"No?"

"It's kinda hard to worry about chivalry when you live like I did," he said sitting back down- suppressing a pang with difficulty. He hadn't thought about his mom and dad in a long time. He kept them buried. It was easier. To not remember the way cancer had a smell. And the way that without insurance drugs just managed the pain. And his dad drank because it hurt. And because it hurt and he drank he couldn't hold a job. And because he couldn't hold a job he just kept doing crimes.

Books had to have a point. Fairy tales and delicate little "girl books" felt ephemeral and frivolous. Austen. Shelley. Poe. Homer. Christie. All that had a point.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's alright," he said exhaling roughly. It wasn't about him. And when he felt you try to pull back, trembling from the strain he shook his head and sank to the floor. "Don't worry about me, okay. Not right now anyway."

"It hurts-"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But if I read this for a while maybe I'll forget-"

"You can borrow-"

"I was going to read it to you," he mumbled, cheeks heating. He meant to just come in and start doing it. He'd hoped you'd just curl up with him and doze off.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" he asked, not sure what to make of your reaction. Or your feelings. They're still a snarl- and mostly self-hatred.

"Yeah," you murmur. "Your voice is nice when you're not being mean."

[feyburner]

saw a post of yours where you were breaking down your complex feelings about Jason and violence and catharsis (great post, 10/10, also love ur jaytim fic). Anyway maybe this a weird thing to get out of that but I was wondering, since your response was so articulate and interesting, if you could tell me about your ten-book bookshelf. You know how some people have a dream ten-car garage? Well, what are the ten books -- or even five of the ten, so you have room to change things -- that you would consider as your favourite books of all time? Would love some recommendations.

Oh man this is tough. Ok let me think. Ok.

THIS IS SO HARD!!!! Im gonna think about it like “if I had to be stranded on a desert island with only 10 books for the rest of my life.” Each of these books are literary feasts which could sustain my brain for years.

1. PIRANESI by Susanna Clarke. A pandemic novel and it shows (honorary). This is a book about isolation and hope and God and science and a really weird house. It is so good. It makes you remember why you love the world. I read it for the first time in like 2 hours flat without moving or pausing and have reread it many times since.

2. REAPER MAN or NIGHT WATCH or FEET OF CLAY by Terry Pratchett. Sorry I would pick with a gun to my head but not before. I love anything Pterry but these are the ones that have stuck with me the most so far & explore themes I find most interesting. I love Death and I love Sam Vimes. I accept that the Discworld in general cannot count as one book.

3. THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy. Incredibly bleak novel that makes you feel so bad the whole time. 10/10.

4. GIOVANNI’S ROOM by James Baldwin. This book is about being a gay/bi American expat in Europe and feeling a shame that is inextricable from white American culture/masculinity. It is about being emotionally castrated by your own culture/country and briefly experiencing a taste of something real and raw and “dirty” and frightening and having to choose between deviance and conformity except you can’t even commit to that choice bc of who you are as a person bc of the culture that made you. So you’ll just be alienated and haunted and between worlds forever. 10/10.

5. THE LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy by Jolkien Rolkien Rolkien Tolkien. This counts as one book.

6. BELOVED by Toni Morrison. The prose in this book is without equal unless you count other Toni Morrisons. It’s one of those books that is so good and so masterful you leave it having been made anew after spending that time so wholly enmeshed in another person’s mind. I reread it a couple years ago for the first time in years and felt that same feeling all over again. It is stunning.

7. CIRCE by Madeline Miller. I know it’s cool to hate Madeline Miller on this website and everyone’s above SONG OF ACHILLES now but guess how much I give a shit. I loved this one and have reread it many times. It’s slow and internal with very little plot, mostly just a woman thinking, which is my favorite type of book.

8. THE TOMBS OF ATUAN or TEHANU or THE LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS by Ursula K. LeGuin. If I had to pick, probably TLHOD. It hits!!!

9. A STRANGER IN OLONDRIA by Sofia Samatar. This is a recently acquired favorite, I loved it from the first page. Beautifully written, a masterclass in specific perspective and “realistic” linguistic, cultural, and religious divides in fantasy (vs. the vaguely medieval Western European setting where everyone speaks the same language).

10. THE SIRENS OF TITAN or BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS by Kurt Vonnegut. I think TSOT wins by a hair. “A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.”

This was hard and I only managed it by not including any books in categories other than Books That Changed Me Fundamentally, subcategory That I Could Read Over and Over.

Otherwise, shoutout to nonfiction books THE OLD WAYS and UNDERLAND by Robert Macfarlane, BRAIDING SWEETGRASS by Robin Wall Kimmerer, OTHERLANDS by Thomas Halliday, ENTANGLED LIFE by Merlin Sheldrake; “read for a fucked up horny romantic time” fantasy books the CAPTIVE PRINCE trilogy by C.S. Pacat and TIAN GUAN CI FU by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu; poetry collections by Mary Oliver, Jane Kenyon, Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath, Tracy K. Smith, Zhai Yongming, Maggie Nelson, Fiona Benson, Mei-mei Berssenbrugge; short story collection LESSER KNOWN MONSTERS OF THE 21ST CENTURY by Kim Fu; and the epic graphic novel BONE by Jeff Smith.

Anyway, I am currently reading, among other things, JONATHAN STRANGE AND MR. NORRELL by Susanna Clarke, DEMOCRACY by Joan Didion, and GWENHWYFAR by Mercedes Lackey. I recently picked up LAND OF MILK AND HONEY by C Pam Zhang and I WHO HAVE NEVER KNOWN MEN by Jacqueline Harpman.

If anyone has any recs based on this list please do give them especially if it’s a sad book where nothing much happens, I love those.

[crispy-kitten-princess]

Some fanarts to bring attention to the long post about the books!

Yesterday i had finished the httyd books re-reading (it's been A MONTH), and today i watched the httyd movie for like the 30th time idk (i was really keen of it as a child)

Friendship with movie Hiccup ended, now Tuffnut and Ruffnut are my best friends. They are iconic. I remember book!Tuffnut being kinda sorta a background character, like somebody amongst the Hooligan tribe. And that's the move i liked about the dreamworks version, heh

Longpost and possible spoilers under the cut

Yeah, i loved movie Hiccup and associated myself with him very much... But now, after i reread the books, refreshed my memory about The Ending (and cried my eyes out), i found the movie rather.. strange? It leaves a lotta questions, like the world building, Astrid's behaviour, poor stylistic choise of making her as skinny and wimp as Hiccup, and Stoic s attitude towards his son, like.. stop??? He is an awful warrior ok but plz quit telling everyone around how much you are ashamed of him. Plus i miss Alvin as the main antagonist. He was one of a kind, never saw anyone so persistent to living and killing your distance nephew. And i miss Fishlegs No name as he was so cute and sarcastic. Movie Fishlegs is rather cliched

Weeeeell this whole post exists just bc i love book Hiccup sm AND THE WHOLE STORY AND I LOVE THE FIRST HICCUP AND THE SECOND AND I LOVE FURIOUS AND HIS STORY AND I LOVE FISHLEGS STORY AND DEADLY SHADOW AND I ADMIRE VALHALLARAMA AND CAMICAZI AND CHINHILDA AND TANTRUM and i miss them and i want to share my love for the books with everyone around... But amongst all my friends i don't have somebody who would've read the YA fantasy book about a 10-15 yo viking boy and his tiny arrogant dragon, and i would not either if i had not became a fan at my 12-13s by absolute chance. This is insane. I love my fixations (that's the whole point of fixating) but it hurts that I can't share it, and even if i try to explain to one of my friends who are ready to listen, I can't tell why exactly would i cry for half an hour about the children's book ending where OMG the dragon died, no waaay

I really wish it were a cartoon series based on books specifically, bc that way i could show them to my friends, which is waaaay easier than making them read the books (which is impossible, i tried). But ig.... It would stay a wish forever

I wanted to tell something about the books again. Why i like them so much? But i get too emotional about them and can't muster up ANYTHING. What CAN i say??? They are good. They are perfect. Cressida Cowell made a great job. The slightest gradient between the first and the last book makes the neighbour books in the series feel alike, but the first and the last are nothing like the other. The first is really a cute local story. WHILE THE LAST IS ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD AND WHOLE NATION. This is incredible

Myself, i like the first 4 or 6 books more. They are so funny! I read them just for fun. But when i do, i just cant stop. And as i proceed further, the world changes, and the Fate follows the main character with a knife of misfortune (i wish i could play with English words as i do in my native language lol) - or good luck! Who knows, when you survived so many terrible moments, are you extra lucky or the exact opposite?

The first books don't even have in them the main thought of the last - dragon slavery. Or do they? Now, when i think of it, i do recognise the abuse and unappropriate attitude towards dragons, like foreshadowing... It's hard to tell if Cressida planned it all from the beginning or expanded the world as the books went further and further. Anyway, the first book os nothing like the last. The last is insane

I hate the book series endings almost every time, but not in that case. No. No. No. This one is solid perfection. It is logical. It is mature. And most importantly, it is painfully realistic. That's what broke me. The realism of the ending, where the magical creatures have to vanish from the human world just to save themselves. It is common for books like that to end with death of all magical (like it dies when we grow up, blablabla and so on) and it is the story of maturing, but that is not all. It matches with our world, where all living things die away and vanish eventually, if they are not significant for human race survival... But in our case they will never ever return from some North fields or sea hollow. Abused animals have neither intelligence to speak for themselves nor some kind guy to save them. Theme of war and death is extremely actual rn too. And i was devastated when the peace was established and shortly after that Furious died 🤪🤪 amazing, thank you. It killed me when he said that he was dead for all these years, and lived again only after Hiccup III spoke to him and returned him to his right mind

This is a mess I'm sorry 😔

I remembered now that it supposed to be a post bout the movie I've just watched. Well. The movie's best part is that it brought my mother's attention to the book series,, i was obsessed with the movie therefore she gifted me the books, and i became so obsessed with them that she even yelled at me for rereading them so frequently, lol

I can't say anything about the movie. I have no thoughts. I guess i just re watched it too many times as a kid to feel anything anymore. It didn't work with the books though. Reading them again 6-7 years later the latest reread, as an adult, i figured out that they aged extremely well. I found inspiration in them. I'm lost in thoughts about them. I want them to be more popular and well-known. And i hate fucking live action movie btw if you even care 😘💅 not to think about all of the resources that could ve been put in use to make cartoonish HTTYD books real

Plz, if you came that far, reblog or comment with something thoughtful, it would be mush appreciated

Upd.: this one is obvious but I loveeeee the trope. When Hiccup went on the impossible journey of Training His Dragon Toothless, he learned how to deal with arrogant, whining, lazy people. He learned how to be a a leader who listens to his followers, a teacher, a mentor to all the crazy arrogant and wild viking nation, and that is why the title of the book focuses on Training your dragon

I'd looove to hear everyone's opinion about the series. Plz share yours!!! I love you fellow httyd fan

[jaychrilo1144]

GUYS I HAVE HACKED THE SYSTEM

I am trying to seriously learn Spanish because I’m going to visit my grandpa and my (step) grandma (and aunt and uncle) in Spain next year. I took Spanish from middle school to the end of Highschool (6 yrs) but let’s be real, American education is… what it is. Needless to say I have a good understanding of what I’m reading and hearing, but I really struggle with forming sentences verbally and thinking in it really. It’s hard enough talking in English as an English speaker XD

Anyway. I’m trying to learn seriously and I have tried so many methods and haven’t gotten much of anywhere. My grandparents came to visit this past week for the first time in years and she gave me tips that helped her learn English.

I started rewatching some of the shows I’ve seen a million times but now in Spanish with Spanish subtitles not English like I have been trying.

I’ve started Duolingo again…. Even though it could be better, it’s just what she wanted me to use lol

I have a version of the philosophers stone in Spanish ( I bought off of a used book site cuz ain’t no way my money is going where it shouldn’t) and tried translating that. Only thing is, being in the hP and marauders fandom has made me… well…. Abandon cannon on the regular. Good to honor, good to know the basics, butttttt where are my gays? So staying focused was difficult.

THEN I HAD A MOMENT OF GENIUS

I’ve read all the young dudes probably twice in the past six months, so I decided to reread out loud (key word out loud) in Spanish, in the kindle app, and fill in the note margins of new words, ways to phrase different sentences, highlighting phrases I’d use on the daily. I’m in chapter 3 now and this has to be my BEST IDEA YET!!!

Idk how I’m gonna go to my grandma next year and tell her I learned Spanish by reading wolfstar fanfiction….. gurls gotta do what a gurls gotta do

I’ll probably annotate the philosophers stone book too so I have something to show but like…. I feel so smart right now.

I’ll give a yr update later on XD.

(Side note- if anyone who speaks Spanish or another language has any recommendations on how I can learn better, let me know! ☺️)

[wutheringmights]

After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.