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unseededtoast · 2 months

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Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Part One

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

a/n: trying out something new! I've wanted to make a series for a long time and finally decided to just do it. I hope you all enjoy and buckle up for the ride:)

Part Two

He can try all he wants to keep me from her, but I'm the only one who will have her in the end.

Unknown POV

Rain drizzles down from the evening sky and the streetlights illuminate the puddles forming on the sidewalk. My shoes are soaked from the walk here; I had hoped to arrive sooner, so that I could get a better seat, but once again work kept me too late.

Trying to brush off the inconvenience I walk into the bar and immediately find who I'm looking for. My heart starts racing and I feel blood rush to my face. The bar is busy, crowded, warm, and loud. Taking a seat at one of the only open spots I order a drink and glance over at the woman I came here for. I knew she'd be here.

Her smile is bright and inviting, her eyes sparkle with the shine of a thousand stars. Her hair looks incredibly soft and sleek under the dim lights. The way she laughs is music to my ears, and the way her clothes cling to her curves is like a work of sacred art.

I take a sip of the cold beer and let my eyes wander over her body. My hand starts to tremble; the sight of her is other-worldly but I can't help but to imagine what her skin would feel like under my fingertips.

Before I know it, my glass is empty and I feel the slight buzz coursing through my veins. But I think I need just one more before I can approach her. I order another quickly, my eyes not wanting to stray from her captivating form for even a second. She's laughing with her friends, and oh, how I long to be one of them. And soon I will be, if things go according to plan.

The song playing changes and some of her coworkers, who double as friends, drag her to the floor to dance, though there's not much room to do so. She moves her body to the rhythm effortlessly, and I can't believe how she makes everything look so natural and easy. The light shines and illuminates the sheer layer of sweat on her chest, it almost makes me choke on my drink.

She starts dancing on one of her friends who cheers her on and it brings a smile to my face. She deserves to let loose and be happy. After all, she works too hard and isn't appreciated enough. Not by her team at least, but I do. I appreciate her more than they ever could. And soon she'll know that as well.

Unfortunately I'm not the only one who seems to notice her beauty. I see several eyes on her body as she moves, and it makes my blood boil. They have no right to look at her in such a lustful way. They couldn't appreciate and savor all she has to offer like I could. No, they couldn't. It would be impossible.

Feeling the courage from the alcohol and the adrenaline from my rage, I set my glass down on the table and wipe my mouth. She's still dancing and I know this is my chance. I straighten out my clothes and fix my hair before I start walking over to her.

She hasn't spotted me moving through the crowd, and with each step closer my heart pounds heavier and heavier with excitement. I've waited for this moment for so long.

Pushing past other patrons my steps become quicker and more urgent. I just can't wait any longer. She's right in front of me, not even twenty feet away.

But just before I break into her line of sight my steps cease in an instant. As the song comes to an end I watch as she laughs and throws her arms around a tall, slender man, who looks down at her with a wide smile.

I grit my teeth as I watch his hands settle on her waist. I notice the way his fingers linger, the way he looks at her with infatuation. He gets to work with her all day long, and yet he steals my chance? He's had years to make a move and hasn't, but just as I'm about to talk to her he decides to put his arms around her body?

He leans down and says something in her ear which makes her nod. They go back to their table and he grabs his belongings as well as hers, and then they say goodbye to their friends, who wish them a good night.

From the shadows of the crowd I watch as he leaves with her tucked under his arm, and her leaning into him. I watch as he takes keys from her bag and leads her to a car parked in the lot. He opens the passenger door for her to get in, and shuts it for her before he takes up the driver's seat.

Now outside on the sidewalk, I see them drive off into the rainy night. My fists seem to have clenched themselves into tight fists, my nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in my palms.

As I walk home the scene keeps replaying itself in my head. The way his hands touched her, the way he leaned down and talked to her. How she accepted his invitation and left with him. How happy she looked to be leaving the bar with him, and how she allowed him to touch her. The image of his fingers on her waist seems to burn itself into the backs of my eyelids.

And I know this night will continue to haunt me for a long time. But I won't give up on her, I can't and I won't. Once she sees how devoted I am to her, she will have to choice but to choose me.

Even if I have to get some people out of my way, I know that she will be mine soon.

- - - - -

The sun breaks through the window curtains and the morning birds chirp their songs that flow through the crisp air. It's a warm morning, and you're thankful your boss gave you permission to come in later today.

Stretching your limbs, you take a deep breath and savor the moment of peace. You don't get many quiet moments these days and so you take extra care to enjoy them while they last.

After looking out of the window from your bed for a few minutes, you roll over and grab your phone, wanting to thank Spencer for bringing you home last night. Quite honestly you had a few too many drinks, more than you were planning. But you knew you could count on Spencer to get you home safely, he always does.

Spencer has been one of your closest friends for years. Having started at the BAU around the same time, it was only natural that you two stuck together. And thankfully you two clicked, like two pieces of a puzzle.

You send him a quick good morning message before getting out of bed. On a lazy morning like this, you decide to make yourself breakfast instead of hastily grabbing whatever is in the pantry like you usually do.

After you make yourself some waffles and sit down you notice a sticky note on the table next to your car keys. Taking it in your hand, you read Spencer's scrawled message,

"Made sure to lock your door on my way out. Oh and I took a cookie from the counter as a thank you"

You smile at his silliness and let the note rest beside your plate. Spencer's been over to your apartment more times than you can count, sometimes it feels like he's a part-time resident here. You've joked around and told him you're going to start charging him rent, to which he just smiled about.

Eventually the clock turns to the next hour and you know that your peaceful morning has come to an end. Lazily, you put your plate in the sink and go get ready for the day. You don't put a lot of effort into your outfit as you know today will be a paperwork day.

Walking into the bullpen you realize that you're the last one in. Everyone else is already getting to work on their reports but you decide to stall for just a little bit longer and take a detour to the break room for a cup of coffee. Not that you need it, but you really don't want to fill out paperwork, it's your least favorite part of the job.

You pour the hot coffee into your favorite mug and spoon some sugar in when Derek walks in with a smirk on his face. And not his usual good morning smile, no, this one is a devious smirk.

"What?" You question him, curious as to what he's up to. He crosses his arms as you sip on the too-hot coffee.

"Someone left you some pretty flowers on your desk, who's your loverboy?" He asks and you about choke on your coffee.

"Someone left flowers on my desk?" You ask, surprised. Nobody has ever brought you flowers before. Derek nods and looks back towards your desk.

"Looks like it." He says and the two of you walk out to your desk together, curious to know who left these for you.

Sure enough, there's a bouquet of pink roses sitting on your desk in a beautiful glass vase. And judging from the size of arrangement, these flowers cost a pretty penny. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you look for a card within the arrangement.

Hidden in the greenery is a small card and you pull it out carefully. Inside, your eyes read over the words a few times to try and make sense of who these could be from.

"Well, what does it say? Who is it from?" Derek impatiently asks. You show him the card and shrug,

"I have no idea." You answer as he reads the note aloud.

"Your brilliant mind deserves to be celebrated, there will be more of these to come." His smirk turns downward and his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

As you and Derek think about who these could be from, Spencer walks back to his desk which is situated just across from yours. He notices the two of you before his eyes settle on the flowers.

"Who are those from?" He asks, looking between you and Derek. With a sigh, you show him the card as well.

"No idea." You tell him, and he reads the note a few times over as well before studying the flowers. He bites on his lower lip as he thinks, and you hope his infinite knowledge will come in handy.

"Pink roses historically symbolize adoration and appreciation." He says confidently. His clue offers little to no insight about who could've done this.

Had the flowers been delivered without a note, you could've brushed it off as a simple, yet unexpected, gift. But the vague note seems odd. Something about it just doesn't feel right, the wording reminds you of not only a promise, but perhaps a veiled threat.

But maybe you're just overreacting. After all, it's in your nature to jump to the worst conclusion. Considering what you deal with on a daily basis, it's like a reflex to assume the worst.

Trying to ease your mind, you place the flowers to the side of your desk. You still want to admire them, but you just want to forget the odd note that accompanied them. Derek walks back off to his desk and you know you've procrastinated long enough. The file is already on your desk, it's just waiting for you to fill it out.

Recalling the last mission easily, you fill out the paperwork quickly, hoping to be done with it soon. You hate paperwork and you wish Hotch would've accepted your bribe; he would do your paperwork and you would pick up his dry cleaning. He turned you down and told you to quit being so dramatic about a little bit of paperwork and advised you to not try to bribe another team member. You knew he meant Spencer, and you knew it would be obvious if Spencer started filling out your reports. His are always detailed, while yours are not.

The day drags on slowly and you take several breaks throughout the day. You like having downtime, but at the same time you hate it. You want to be using your mind for something useful, and in between cases there's a lull that drives you just a little bit mad.

For lunch, you and Spencer decide to try the new deli down the road. It's a nice enough day, so the two of you decide to walk there and enjoy the fresh air. And as you wait for the elevator, a maintenance crew begins unloading. You knew they had been replacing cameras in the lower levels, but didn't know they were going to be moving up here. There are several men with ladders, tool boxes, and cameras that cause a flurry of momentary chaos.

One of the men bumps into you and you apologize, feeling like you're in the way when in reality they're the ones disrupting the status quo. Eventually, they all disperse into the office space and begin working, allowing you and Spencer to leave.

-----

"What are you plans for the weekend?" You ask Spencer as you take a bite of your sandwich. With no case, you decide you might as well try to plan something. Something noncommittal enough that if a case does come in it's no big deal to cancel, but something to look forward to if you stay in the area all weekend. He swallows and shrugs his shoulders,

"I didn't really have any plans. I guess I might rearrange my bookshelves or something." He takes another bite, looking absolutely in love with his sandwich.

"As fun as that sounds, how about you come over and help me put up some curtains. I don't feel like getting the stepladder out. I'll pay you by making dinner." You say, knowing that he will more than likely accept. The two of you always end up spending some time together if you have a free weekend. Spencer takes a drink and looks as if he's deep in thought before sighing,

"You drive a hard bargain, I'll do it. Oh, and can you please make those brownies? The ones with the chocolate chips?" He asks, eyes lighting up at the thought of your brownies. The man has a sugar addiction and it's one that you always end up feeding into.

"But I just made you cookies." You say, remembering the one he took from the counter last night.

"Okay?" He asks as if you just made the most ridiculous statement he's ever heard. You wipe your hands on your napkin and shake your head,

"You know it wouldn't be the end of the world if you tried a vegetable once." You tease him. He feigns insult before throwing the argument right back at you,

"And it wouldn't be the end of the world if you made some brownies." He's got a humorous glint in his eye that you know you won't be able to resist. With a resigned sigh you finish your drink.

"I guess I could make some brownies." You give in, just like you always do. It's rare that you ever deny Spencer something, you've got a soft spot for him. If it were any of your other teammates you don't think you'd have an issue telling them no, but for Spencer, you always seem to crumble.

The two of you finish lunch quickly and get back to the office, hoping the others don't notice how you went over your allotted lunch hour. You and Spencer walk side by side, bumping into each other every few steps. His hair blows in the wind and it reminds you to ask him if he wants a haircut sometime this weekend.

When you get back to the office the camera installers are still there, some working right near your desk. And you take it as a sign to turn your report in to Hotch, who's hunched over his desk reading over someone else's report. He looks up as you walk in and thanks you for your report.

"Did you do it yourself?" He asks, but you can sense the humorous undertone, one that you don't usually get from Hotch. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you ensure to him that you're the only one who wrote the report. And right as you go to walk out, an idea comes to your mind.

"So, is there a way to see who sent those flowers? It's just, I don't know it just seems really weird to me." You tell him, knowing that your worries are safe with Hotch. His eyebrows furrow before he speaks.

"Well, I would say check the cameras but I don't know if the footage would be there, considering they're replacing them. Go check with Garcia." He says and you nod, thanking him as you leave.

You head to Garcia's office to find that she's looking at shoes online. It seems the downtime gets to her as well. But when she sees you walk in, her face lights up.

"To what do I owe the honor?" She overplays, causing you to smile.

"I'm hoping you could help me out." You say and go to take a seat beside her in front of her numerous monitors.

"Your wish is my command." She says with a smirk.

"So these flowers showed up at my desk this morning and I just want to see who dropped them off is all." You tell her, concealing your concerns. If you know Penelope, you know that if you show your worries then she will not stop until she finds an answer, and you don't want to inconvenience her like that.

She spins in her chair and starts typing, bringing up some camera footage. You intently watch as she starts scrubbing through the footage, looking for anything helpful. Her eye is better trained than yours though, and she's able to fly through the footage of each camera in record time. And then she goes back through again.

"Sorry, it looks like they were replacing the cameras in the lobby from six this morning to just before noon." She turns to look at you, and you do your best to hide your disappointment.

"That's okay, thank you." You say, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You were hoping she would have a workaround for this, but if there were no cameras in place, there's nothing she can work with.

"Of course. Sorry I couldn't find anything." She says, but you can tell she's holding back from saying what she really wants to.

"What is it? I know that look." You ask, curious as to what is going on inside her mind.

"It's just odd. You receive flowers on the day the camera footage is unavailable. But, I'm sure it's just a really weird coincidence." She offers a strained smile and your insides feel like they're being twisted around.

"Yeah, probably just one of those things." You try to brush it off, but as you walk back to the bullpen the situation begins to bother you even more.

-----

The smell of brownies drifts around your apartment as you wait for Spencer to arrive. You had made sure to make the brownies for him, just as he requested. And though you're tired from work, you felt it was necessary to make sure you do this for him seeing as how he's going to be hanging your curtains for you.

A knock at the door startles you out of your trance and you move to let Spencer in. He's changed from his work clothes and has a grin on his face as he walks through the door.

"I thought I smelled brownies." He says as he takes his shoes off. Spencer wastes no time in making himself comfortable in your home seeing as how your apartment is basically his second home.

"I knew I'd never get my curtains up if I didn't make them." You call over to him as he sits on your couch. He smiles and watches you pull the pan out of the oven. The edges look crispy, the middle gooey, and you know it's likely he'll eat all of them before the night is over.

Seeing them on the counter, Spencer gets up and rushes into the kitchen, where you have to smack his hand away from the hot pan.

"Spencer you're supposed to be a genius, why are you reaching for a pan that just came out of the oven?" You block his view of the brownies, knowing that he's likely to try again just out of pure childlike stubbornness.

"They smell so good." He peeks around you, getting a glimpse of the brownies behind your back.

"They do, but let them cool a little." You press against his chest, making him walk back a few steps. He gives up and sighs,

"Fine. Where are the curtains? I'll just get those out of the way." He says and looks around. You go and retrieve the curtain rod and the curtains and set them on your couch.

From the couch you watch as he works, appreciating his willingness to help you out. You had wanted these to go up for a while now, but never got around to it. And after receiving the mystery flowers, you wanted to put them up so you feel more secure at home. The window is facing the street and you know it's relatively easy to see inside. It would make you feel better if you could put something between you and the outside.

Spencer's lithe form works effortlessly and you find your eyes wandering across the broadness of his shoulders. In the years you've worked together, you can tell how he's filled out more, and you'd be a liar if you said it didn't suit him. You had first noticed how his button-ups starting becoming tighter around his biceps, and then it was how his pants seemed to hug his thighs.

As he turns around to grab another part, you're quick to avert your eyes. You feel your cheeks start to burn and you realize he may have very well saw you checking him out. Which you shouldn't be, he's your best friend after all.

"There, that should do it." He says after a few more minutes of working.

You stand from the couch and walk to stand beside him, appreciating the way that the curtains look. Not only are they practical, but they make the apartment feel more like home.

"They look great, thank you." You smile up at him, meeting his eyes. He licks his lips and holds your gaze for just a moment longer before he looks back to the kitchen. You know exactly what's on his mind and you sigh, finally giving in to him, just like you always do.

Later, you and Spencer are on the couch, watching tv. You've got your back against the armrest, feet resting in Spencer's lap. He's intensely watching whatever movie he put on while your mind wanders elsewhere.

For some reason, you're just not able to shake off the flowers. Spencer's words echo in your mind, the ones telling you that the flowers stand for adoration. Then you think about how they showed up on the very day the cameras are being replaced. It all seems just a little too convenient for you. And in your line of work, you know better than to believe in coincidences.

"What's up?" Spencer pauses the movie and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrows raise and you feign ignorance.

"What do you mean?" You ask him. But you should know better. Spencer knows you like the back of his hand. He frowns and rests a hand on your leg.

"I can tell something's been bothering you tonight." He says and you keep your eyes trained on his hand. Biting the inside of your lip, you know he's got you pinned.

"It's nothing, I'm just being paranoid." You sigh and try to reach for the remote, but Spencer holds it out of your reach. He gives you a pointed look.

"I know it's not nothing, and you're not the paranoid type." He points out and for the moment you despise his eidetic memory.

"It's so stupid. It's just the thing with the flowers. You know Penelope couldn't find footage of who dropped them off because the cameras were being replaced?" You tell him, arching an eyebrow. He takes a moment to think, and then offers a solution, like he usually does.

"You can probably ask the front desk receptionist what she remembers." He says and you nod, knowing it's the only lead you have to work with.

"I'll do that Monday." You say and stand from the couch to close your new curtains, suddenly feeling too exposed.

As you go to close them, you think your eyes are playing tricks on you. You gasp and blink, but whatever you saw is gone. Spencer comes to stand beside you, looking out of the window.

"What is it?" You hear the concern in his voice. He must think you're going crazy. In fact, you think that you're going crazy. His arm finds its way over your shoulders and he tugs the curtains closed.

"I just thought I saw someone out there on the street. But there's nothing there." You say, voice sounding just slightly breathless. Spencer guides you away from the window and sits you back down on the couch. You can see his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are drawn tightly together.

"Would it make you feel better if I stayed here tonight?" He asks, and you look over at him, breaking your gaze from the window.

"Spence, you don't have to stay here for my sake." You start to feel bad, you don't want him to pity you. He shakes his head.

"I don't mind at all." The sides of his mouth curl up into a smile, the same one that makes you melt.

"Only if you want to." You say, internally grateful he's willing to stay with you tonight.

-----

Unknown POV

I watch from the shadows as she pulls a pan out of the oven. Her apartment is lit up enough for me to be able to catch a glimpse of her beauty, and I watch with wide eyes every moment that's gifted to me. However, my excitement is dampened as I can't find the flowers anywhere. I was hoping she'd bring them home, so that a tiny piece of me could be there with her.

The moment is further tainted as soon as I see him step inside of her home. The same one from the bar. Anger courses through me as I watch them in the kitchen, as I see her move him with a hand on his chest. He shouldn't be able to feel her touch, he doesn't appreciate her the way I do.

Unable to move away I watch as he puts up some curtains for her. Thankfully they look sheer enough that it won't block all of my view. But still, they're more than I want. I've been able to keep an eye on her every night without them, and I hope they don't obscure my view too much.

My hands ball into tight fists as they sit on the couch with each other. He keeps looking over at her every few minutes, but it doesn't look like she notices. She looks distressed, there's a crease between her eyebrows. I should be there to put her worries at ease.

I readjust the binoculars to try and get an even closer look. But when I do, I see that they've moved. They're at the window and I see her look right at me. Quickly, I sidestep into the alleyway, where the darkness should hide me away. Hopefully she didn't see the glint of light off the binocular lenses.

Just before I leave, I see his hand on her shoulder, leading her away from the window. It's like he's purposefully keeping her from me. A smirk finds its way to my face and I'm bolstered with new resolve.

He can try all he wants to keep me from her, but I'm the only one who will have her in the end.

Part Two

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid series #mgg #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #bau team #spencer reid smut #spencer reid oneshot #spencer x reader #Spotify

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moons-of-dewclan · 3 months

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I was curious how to get your clan really set off? I recently (LIKE EARLIER TODAY JFJSJFJ) started my own clangen blog but idk if it's worthy of Tumblr😭

How can I improve my art and improve my process? You're one of my BIGGEST inspirations ngl you're literally him (or her or they I'm so sorry I never caught your pronouns) but I was just curious on how to be better? If you wanna look, don't. It's like, rlly bad so.... save your eyes. Have a lovely nighttt <33

HELLOOOOO I'M NOT 100% SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY SET OFF I'M SORRY :{ if you mean to get people reading it, i think it's vastly just luck also appealing to an audience by accident i posted my art online for 10 years (i started posting in 2010 as a wee ka- told you i'm an adult haahahueu) before anyone showed consistent interest and i valued those two or so commenters who occasionally had something to say about my stuff, so much LAKSNLKD. that entire decade i got between 2 and 30 favourites for every piece i posted- usually between 2 and 10- until around 2021 when a making a comic aANNND joining a wolf ARPG group exposed me to many kindred art-enjoyers that wanted to keep up with my goofy stories then for some reason, i posted Dewclan's first page on tumblr and it got way more engagement than any other piece of art i've ever posted SO LAKSDNLKDAS WE CANNOT PREDICT THESE THINGS.. at least i can't if you're looking for engagement, pLS AIM FOR ENGAGEMENT THAT FEELS MEANINGFUL over anything else IN MY OPINION, and it's just my opinion- part of being 'better' is, first and foremost, being able to enjoy your art alone. and then being excited with what you choose to share! even if you don't care about your quality of art, care about the story. if you don't care about the story, care about the process and just having fun. but you have to have fun in doing it, and do it for your own eyes primarily. like if you were alone in a room and creating only for yourself! because, until you happen to find others who like what you're liking, you are then when someone is interested and you get to share that excitement, even that ooone comment on something you care about is OOGHHH SUCH A NICE FEELIN. enter communities, comment on other artists' work, try to make friends! but make sure to remember, if you create with the hopes others will like it, without liking it yourself, you're going to be really broken down if someone doesn't like it FOR you :{ loving your own art is tough work but it's integral to your longterm relationship with drawing ON IMPROVING.. for me, nothing is more integral to improving than finding a way to practice that suits you (looking at live figures doesn't help me at all. i don't know why. it's insane), and having fun doing it. i can't grasp anatomy unless i break it down with shapes. SHAPES ARE EVERYTHING. study the shapes of what you want to draw. break em down by tracing simple shapes over your subject. see if the leg is the same length as the head from muzzle to neck and lock that info in. STUFF LIKE THAT on the technical side of things, it can be super helpful to dedicate half an hour or so to drawing a day- eventually it becomes a habit and you just default to 'oh i think i wanna draw' when you've got nothing else to do. more drawing, more improvement!

HONESTLY THO another important thing is not putting yourself down. i know it's a hard habit to break (i struggle with it outside of art myself!), but it doesn't do you any favours. the more you rag on yourself, the more it'll manifest as something that actually damages your art, AND your relationship with it. let it be fun- don't sabotage yourself! you can be critical of your work and still kind! little tip here, improving can take a while, but experimenting with styles can make an INSTANT shift in how you perceive your stuff. ALSOOO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT BRUSHES FOR SKETCHING AND LINING. I PROOMISE. PLS DO IT. IT'S LIKE A MAGIC TRICK. i cannNNNOT sketch with a hard brush. everything looks horrible. marker brush tho?? so smooth. full of character. lovely. binary brush sketches? suddenly i'm Anime. pencil brush?? i digidevolve back into baby ka who loved to crosshatch and do semi realism. airbrush??? i explode into atoms actually

i find for a lot of people, they don't need to improve or be 'better' at art, they need to learn to enjoy what they're capable of doing now, and improvement is a byproduct. from what i've seen through the years, unless you work to curb it the negative view of your art will stick with you no matter what 'skill level' you get to bc the calls' comin from inside the house, yknow what i mean 3: it can be a long process to learn to accept your art, and sometimes you just plain grow out of it over time! but in the meantime it can't hurt to make efforts to fight your d e m o n s

I'M SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH IK YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS ALL IT ISN'T JUST TO YOU, ODESSY-CLAN BLOG RUNNER, IT'S AIMED AT ANYONE WITH ARTSY SELF DOUBTS. i hope i phrased everything kindly bc i meant it all kindly 3: i hate to see an artist doubt their work, but THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT. i want to encourage loving it regardless of any flaws tho, even though it takes time!

#kasks

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tragedybunny · 7 days

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Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 3

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 3057

༺Masterlist༻

༺A/N༻ I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out! Hope you enjoy it.

Huge thanks to @leomonae for the fantastic beta work and for showing me the art of the semicolon.

Read on AO3

꧁༺Chapter 3 - Second, Thou Shalt Drink Blood as I Have Commanded ༻꧂

༺ Astarion brings Serafina a gift and the second of his rules is made clear to her.༻

How long Serafina had waited for Astarion to return, she couldn’t say. One day flowed into another, all of them soon becoming like one. The servants still came, to tend to her and their rooms, but they were always silent. The smell of living blood in their veins stirred the growing ache in her stomach, the feeling of emptiness. It never truly went away, even the Ascendant’s gifts couldn’t protect his spawn from that curse, but the denial of even a drop of animal blood turned the subtle burn into an inferno. And then the servants stopped coming, because Astarion knew, even in his absence, what was happening to her. Whatever he had planned, he wanted her hungry, and it seemed he didn’t want to risk her breaking before he was ready.

Their rooms offered little entertainment to distract from the hunger. She could read from their private library, bathe, watch the streets of the Gate from her window, write letters to old companions – and wait for responses that had been increasingly sparse since they parted ways – but that was it. After a while, sleep became her favorite activity, her head too foggy for anything more involved.

She spent unknown hours lying motionless among a sea of black silk sheets, staring at the tapestries and paintings that lined the walls: scenes Astarion’s defeat of Cazador, his ascension, the saving of Baldur’s Gate, and the day they claimed Szarr manor as their rightful home. And there she was, beside him through it all. His beloved.

And then, the mental haze was erased in a moment when an envelope slid under her door one morning. “My Precious Treasure,” was written on it, in Astarion’s immaculate script. Despite the betrayal of her imprisonment, Serafina’s heart leapt. She’d known he wouldn’t abandon her entirely, but how long he would make her wait had been in question. Astarion had proven himself capable of the most stubborn grudge holding.

Fingers hastily tore into it, yanking the letter free with ragged anticipation. The words adorning the parchment were a sliver of hope that she eagerly clung to.

“Serafina, my beloved,

Tonight, I will come to you, and we will end this unpleasantness between us. Not having you in my arms every night has been a great suffering, but I know we will be stronger for this, our love deeper. Tonight I will come bearing a gift, and show you how strong my love for you is.

Until then, my love,

Your Astarion”

Deep down, something within her recoiled at the happiness the words sparked. Something that remembered her past; something that had fought for her freedom, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Something that bristled at this gilded cage.

How long had it been since the Netherbrain? Time was strange, as a vampire who spent most of her days in Astarion’s palace. Serafina tried to think back: it had undergone some of his grand renovation plans, and he had made two other spawn to assist with his aspirations among the city’s elite. Which suggested that it had been a few years, at least.

Not that it mattered; she was where she had chosen to be. She had loved Astarion, and had tried to give him everything – for that matter, she loved him still. And he still loved her, Serafina knew, it was just… different, now. But even that too could change, the letter evidence he’d already begun to soften.

With the new burst of energy brought by the letter and her anticipation of Astarion’s imminent return, the rest of the day was spent carefully readying herself. A bath with his favorite scents; hair left loose and flowing, so he could run his fingers through it. And a dress that was little more than a swath of crimson silk over the intimate parts of her body, to complete the image. The Ascendant’s consort; just the way he desired her.

The sun was just setting when the door to the grand bedchamber opened. Her lord and lover entered; Sera had been seated in a plush chair near the fire, built up to blazing despite the warm weather with her body so cold from lack of blood these days, but a sharp burst of warmth shot through her at the sight of him. Dressed in black silk with fine gold embroidered details, Astarion looked more than regal: he looked divine.

Serafina rose to greet him; the corners of her lips curled up into a smile.

“My darling,” he purred, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply. “I’ve missed you so, my love.”

“I was here, but you-” she started to protest; he gently placed a finger to her lips.

“Shh, we can talk about all of that later. Let me give you your gift first.”

Serafina nodded; there was nothing to be gained from spoiling his soft mood.

Arm still hooked around her waist, Astarion turned them both toward the door. “Enter, Navril.”

Sera tensed against Astarion as a beautiful young elven man entered. Red hair cascaded down his back; his eyes were like liquid gold, as he gazed at Astarion with the besotted look she’d seen in others so often before. His sun-kissed skin glowed with the blush of life; he was vibrant and warm, and each beat of his heart sent a feast of blood pulsing through his veins.

Her stomach clenched; she tried not to start salivating.

“Command me, my lord,” Navril said, his voice airy and musical.

Rather than replying, Astarion looked over to Serafina, then nodded her over towards the young man. A gift, he had said.

“What am I to do with him?” Serafina’s eyes dropped to the floor as she spoke; she could almost hear that blood singing to her.

Astarion chuckled. “Let him pleasure you – well, us – of course.”

A sharpened fang dug into her lip; she was so hungry. But doing what Astarion wanted would please him, and make their reunion easier. She could ask him for blood afterwards. And anyway, this wasn’t the first playmate he’d dragged to their bed. The first had been a plump little blonde human he’d tried to keep as a spawn. She’d met a stake one night in the castle gardens, when Serafina had found her there alone. Strangely, he’d seemed more proud than angry. But from then on, spawn were not for pleasure, and his toys always disappeared again after one night.

“If you command it, my love.” She stepped away from Astarion and glanced Navril up and down before addressing him. “Disrobe. Let me see what my lord has brought to me.”

Navril hesitated, looking between the two of them and seeming unsure.

“You heard her,” Astarion said, tone cool.

This time Navril listened, his simple tunic and pants quickly discarded. His skin was free from anything that would mar it, suggesting the warm tone was gained through pleasure, not work, and the same for the softness of his body. Perhaps a man of learning, or the son of a noble? Not that it would matter, when Astarion was done with him. All that mattered in here was the cock between Navril’s legs, already stirring to life.

“Now, what ever should we do with him,” Astarion coaxed, leaning over to kiss and nibble at her neck.

Serafina considered the question. Truthfully, the additions to their bed held little interest for her, but it pleased Astarion to have her participate. And there were ways to do that without her own direct involvement.

“I want to watch him suck your cock.”

Her words earned a toothy smile from him, fangs flashing alluringly from between his lips; she had fallen in love with that smile once upon a time. “A delightful start.” He placed her hands on his trousers, a silent command for her to open them.

Obeying, she took him in her hand, stroking with a light, teasing touch, before backing away to gesture to their guest. Navril obediently dropped to his knees, mouth opening to accept Astarion’s cock. He ran his tongue along the length and over the head, coating it in saliva, before taking it all the way inside.

Astarion gave a muted groan.

Sera settled herself on the bed, legs spread, watching the lewd spectacle Astarion was making of Navril. But it didn’t last long at all.

“Not one whiff of arousal from my treasure; you’re boring her,” Astarion snapped suddenly, and gripped Navril’s hair in unrelenting fingers. With a violent thrust, he plunged the length of himself into Navril’s throat.

Serafina felt a pang of regret for the too-soon loss of Astarion’s softer manner, muted by relief she wasn’t on the receiving end of this mood swing.

Navril gagged as Astarion roughly fucked his face, still snapping orders at him. “That’s it, make a show for her. This is all for her, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint my consort, would you Navril? ”

All for her. That stirred her, and her hand drifted between her thighs. Astarion froze, pulling back from Navril’s lips, leaving the man to mop the tears from his face.

“Your turn, my sweet Serafina.” Astarion stalked toward the bed, discarding clothing and boots in his wake.

“Come here,” he ordered the waiting Navril, pointing to the spot on the ground between her legs.

“Yes, my lord.” The man’s eyes were hazy and he spoke as though enthralled. Not an impossible prospect.

When he rose to obey, Astarion stopped him with a noise of disapproval. “On your knees, lest you forget how far above you she is.”

Sera blushed at the praise as Astarion settled himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Kissing and nipping at her ear, he whispered gently, “You’re so beautiful when you get excited, my love.”

Pulling down the shoulders of her gown, he exposed her pale breasts and pebbled nipples to Navril. “Touch her,” Astarion’s velvet voice commanded.

Kneeling between her legs, Navril reached for her to obey. Fingers traced over her skin gently, circling the sensitive buds; Astarion made a noise of impatience. His own elegant fingers came around to pinch and roll them instead, much more harshly. Serafina whimpered and squirmed against him, his growing hardness pressing against her backside. He always knew how to drive her mad.

“Shh, pet, you’re going to have every pleasure soon enough.” He gave her nipples a rough tug that left them stinging. “Now keep your legs spread.”

Obediently, she left them open wide, as Astarion reached out and tugged Navril by his hair toward her waiting sex. And then the same tongue that had tasted her lover tasted her, too, dipping into her folds and exploring her.

“Does she not have the sweetest taste?” Astarion asked. Not that Navril could reply, of course.

Little licks went from teasing her hole to caressing her wanting clit. Her hips rolled against Navril’s face as Astarion continued to hold him in place. Warmth was building inside her, and she began to lose herself in the euphoric sensations.

“Do you think you can make her come?” Astarion said, almost taunting. His free hand cupped Sera's breast, abusing her sore nipple again.

Turning her head, she tried to bury her face in his neck as she whined. She felt Navril pick up the pace, sucking at her clit ravenously. “Astarion,” she moaned, pleading; Navril was but the tool, it was Astarion who dictated her pleasure.

“Come my love.” Astarion’s hand slipped down to slide fingers inside her, while Navril continued to suckle at her most sensitive part.

With all of Astarion’s attention on her, Serafina lost herself, whimpering and crying out.

“Good pet,” he crooned, fingers still playing with her briefly before he withdrew them, then took his time to lick each one clean, the lewd, wet sounds echoing in her ear. “Lay back,” he commanded.

Sera felt herself tense; she never liked having anyone else besides Astarion himself inside her like that. But he was in such a good mood today, even after the earlier threat that it might turn worse. So she let herself be guided down onto the mattress, as Astarion moved out from behind her and slid her back from the edge. The fabric of her dress fanned out around her as she laid back, barely clinging to her body.

Astarion looked to Navril, who waited on his knees still. “Fuck her; take my little love to ecstasy.”

Wasting no time, Navril scrambled onto the bed and settled himself between her thighs. Looking down at her with eyes hazy from lust, he leaned his head toward her lips.

Astarion struck lightning fast, his hand cracking against Navril’s cheek. “Those are mine alone.” His words came on a low, dangerous growl, and Navril tensed for a second. “As you were.”

Seemingly afraid to disappoint again, Navril slid himself inside her quickly. Sera silently thanked the gods she was already ready for him as his girth stretched her. This close, the scent of his blood was almost overpowering, her hunger no longer so easily forgotten in the chaos of Astarion’s game. She found herself salivating again as Navril moved inside her, her fangs almost aching.

“Astarion, I can’t,” she whined, the pleasure between her legs background noise to her rising desire for Navril’s blood.

Astarion answered her with a predatory smile. Moving with unnatural grace, he left from her side, positioning himself behind Navril. Peering over Navril’s shoulder, he locked eyes with her and brought two fingers to his mouth, sucking on them just enough to wet them. Eyes never leaving hers, his hand drifted downwards.

Navril groaned; Sera almost pitied him. Pleasure was often short-lived, with Astarion.

“So greedy for both of us.” Astarion's voice was silken and beguiling, a tone he'd used with her once long ago, in a hidden clearing in the woods.

Gripping Navril’s hips, Astarion drove forward, and Navril yelped in pain. “Take what you want,” he ordered, thrusting into Navril, causing him to move inside Sera.

She rolled her hips into it and moaned. It felt sinfully delicious to be fucked with Navril’s cock by Astarion like this.

“You like that, little love?” he teased.

Navril’s face scrunched in pain when Astarion moved again, pushing him forward, drawing more sounds from Sera in the process. Loved, spoiled, treasured… only Astarion could make her feel this way.

As Astarion picked up his rhythm, Navril flailed for purchase, hands coming to grip the sheets desperately as he tried to remain upright. He grunted, almost collapsing under the assault as Astarion leaned over him,hips pumping relentlessly.

Sera ignored him, looking up past him to Astarion’s face, watching him chase his own release as the body he forced into her pushed her to her own. She was so close, and Astarion was fucking into Navril with reckless violence.

“Please,” the elf between them whimpered.

“I…” Sera breathed, her body contracting around Navril, banishing all thoughts.

Time slowed; she watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s mouth moved toward Navril’s throat. A cruel motion wrenched his head to the side; predatory fangs tore into his flesh.

A rain of red spattered against her skin, the scent making her stomach roil. “Astarion,” she whispered through the haze of lust and hunger. A satisfied smirk answered her before he leaned over to lap at the blood now dripping from Navril’s neck. A pained whimper escaped her and she felt her hands come to rest on Navril’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin.

What little blood there was in her thundered in her veins, a noise to drown out Navril’s suffering. Her mouth salivated as the coppery tang of his blood consumed all her senses. She was so, so hungry, and a feast was spilling down onto her. Distantly, she heard her own protests in her mind, her horror at the urge for a thinking creature’s blood.

She pulled Navril toward herself as his eyes widened in horror, no escape possible trapped between the two of them. Mouth opening, her tongue caressed his blood-slick skin, a taste like nothing else in the world sending a new kind of pleasure pulsing through her. Hands moving from shoulders to hair, she forced his neck to her waiting teeth, body and mind demanding she sate herself.

The wound Astarion had opened allowed just enough to tease; she tore into it further, sucking at the sweet nectar released.

“That’s it, my sweet love, drink your fill,” Astarion encouraged, watching her from above Navril’s shuddering form.

With his blood flowing into her, she could hear Navril’s heart, hear how it grew weaker with every swallowed mouthful. Again, her mind railed: she was killing him, just as she said she would never do. But the taste was so luscious, and her stomach didn’t hurt for the first time in years.

Navril made a horrible rattling sound; she felt the flow of blood slow, then stop. The warmth filling her mouth ebbed away, and sanity returned. Hands and teeth released him, but he remained slumped over her. Navril was dead.

“Oh gods,” she said softly, awareness washing over her. “I - I…”

“You ate properly for the first time,” Astarion said, tone gentle, at least for the moment. “As you deserve. As you’ve always deserved.”

Standing, he pulled Navril’s body off of her, casually discarding him onto the floor, his purpose served. He settled himself onto the sheets next to Sera and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, my love, taking care of yourself.”

“But he, he was alive. And -”

And she’d killed him. Murdered a thinking creature, a person, to quiet her own aching hunger.

“Stop that,” Astarion responded sharply. “You’ve done what you needed to do. I don’t need you to backslide. I want my pretty little consort as healthy as she can be. I have great plans for the next few months, and you need to be fit to be by my side.”

Fingers stroked her hair as he spoke, their gentleness in direct opposition to the demanding words. Astarion was happy with her, and she finally had peace from the awful hunger that haunted her. And so, resting her cheek against his chest, smearing gore from her face across that perfect ivory skin, she gave in.

Even if she resisted, there was no doubt he would just find some other way to help her.

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #my writing #my fanfic #bg3 tav #bg3 tav serafina #ascended astarion #slow dancing in a burning room

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Text

The Broken Hearts Club - Eddie Munson

Friends Ending

Lovers Ending

Summary: After being best friends for years you finally decided to tell Eddie about your feelings. But what happens when an unexpected person comes along to ruin your plans?

A/N: Guess who´s back? and with a 5.3k words (or 12 pages) angst about Eddie? Hell yeah. This is a bit based on @/bloomsbury art. She´s amazing, all her works are *Chef kisses* and I needed to write this lol. I´m thinking this will have two endings - Lovers ending and Friends ending. (BTW I'm also working on another Steve fic, another Eddie one shot and the next chapter of Love in the Past) Thanks for all your support and I hope you like this fic too!

Warnings: curses, angst, nothing about the upside down happened,.

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The words became landscapes, people, emotions. Your eyes passed line after line, taking in all the ideas and creations that the author had put into his work. The noises around you dissipated the moment you stepped into the book, even the boys next to you had become invisible to the characters and their actions that enveloped your mind. Or so you thought until a knock next to you brought you out of your world.

“Ready for the new adventure coming?" asked Eddie Munson happily as he sat down at his place at the table. Gareth, Dustin, Mike and Jeff shouted a -Yeah!- excited about Eddie's new plan to get them into his D&D world. The boy smiled and then turned his gaze to you causing you to close your book and place it on the table, your elbow landed next to it to cup your cheek with your hand and look at it expectantly.

"Ink!" shouted Eddie with one of the many nicknames he had given you for your taste in books "Any plans or suggestions to make the new world more entertaining?". You just shrugged.

"I still don't know what you have planned Munson, I must read it to give my opinion. Now if you will allow me to go back to my book" You said as you picked it up again and opened it to the page where you had left off.

"After school come to the van and I'll show you what I have" Eddie said to get a thumbs up from you agreeing to his plan. The rest of the guys continued to talk about how excited they were about the new plan Eddie was going to create for them to play with. You, from time to time, looked up to admire the long haired boy talking enthusiastically to his buddies making you smile.

You and Eddie had met years ago at the town library when you were both looking for something new to read. The boy was fighting with a local helper while you were behind him waiting to check out more books. Hearing that the 15 year old boy couldn't find anything like LOTR -and that the assistant didn't know how to help him- you decided to recommend him 'Salem's lot' book by a new writer who was dedicated to horror, a very different reading from LOTR but that you had liked a lot. The boy accepted the book in surprise and decided to take it to him instead of continuing to fight. Seeing him go, you just smiled and signed the borrowing list for 'The Shining' book by the same author. When you came out you found Eddie sitting on the stairs waiting for you as he started to read the book, when he saw you he quickly stood up and introduced himself by extending a hand to you. Since then, the two of you were inseparable, even when he was two years older than you, you would always go out to play or talk forming a crush for the boy. Now, just out of high school, you were ready to confess your feelings to him.

"Eddie? Did Chrissy throw you a smile? And you smiled back?!" Your friend's exclamations brought you out of your literary bubble to look at Eddie, then turn to see the cheerleader leaving the cafeteria and return your gaze to Eddie who was still looking at the girl.

"What...what's going on?" you asked in a shaky voice fearing the worst. Eddie just shrugged his shoulders and stood up on the table to make dramatic talk.

"As you know it's my senior year" he held out his arms as Jeff let out a groan interrupting his friend.

"Dude, you've been saying that for two years" The boy put his face in his hand in boredom. Eddie just held up his finger as he smiled at him.

"Well being my senior year, I finally got up the nerve to talk to Chrissy and I'm going to try to ask her to go out with me" he put his hands on his chest. "And not only will I walk out of here with a diploma in hand flippin Higgins the bird, but I'll walk out of here with the queen of Hawkins in my arms."

For every comment Eddie made your face was dropping, as if the life had gone out of it. Gareth discreetly put his hand on your leg making you jump a little in surprise and turn to look at him. The boy looked at you with sad eyes for what was happening. Gareth had discovered your crush on Eddie a year ago when he inadvertently overheard you talking to Robin about your love for your best friend.

"Besides, it would be perfect! She and I have known each other since we were kids!" exclaimed Eddie as he jumped down from the table startling some girls. Hearing the bell Eddie grabbed his things quickly. "I'll go talk to her before she goes into class. This is finally going to be my year!" he yelled as he walked out of the cafeteria causing several students to let out a laugh.

The rest of the guys started to get up from the table to grab their stuff and go to their classes, leaving you alone with a broken heart and in shock at what had just happened.

"But... we knew each other when we were kids too" You said quietly as you watched the door where Eddie had left.

-.-

"I'm telling you, of all those losers you could have fallen in love with you decided to do it with Eddie Munson" Robin commented as you both walked to your lockers after a day of classes. "There's even dingus! If you like you can come with me to work and who knows, maybe something will happen" Said your girl best friend as she put her books in her locker, you were leaning on yours as you thought about what you were going to do.

"It's not that simple Robin, it's not that Steve isn't cute, but there's something about Eddie that's different, plus the way I feel about Eddie has been since I was a kid." you commented as Robin let out a sigh and closed her locker to grab you by the shoulders.

"Hun, I know it's hard, but I don't want you to end up with a broken heart just before you finish high school. Tell me, did you get the letters from the colleges yet?" Robin tried to change the subject making you smile.

"I already got two, but Columbia´s still missing," you commented. The girl let out a small 'Yes!' as she punched the air with her fist.

“You better tell me when you get your answer, then you will leave this place to start living and become the best writer in the world. Who knows, maybe you'll become so famous you'll meet Tom Cruise and get married and have lots of babies. I mean, have you see him in ‘Top Gun’?" She said as she raised both eyebrows making you let out a laugh. Robin managed to distract your mind for a moment until Gareth and Jeff approached.

"Hey, have you seen Eddie? It's almost time for D&D" commented Jeff as he rubbed both hands together excitedly. You grabbed your backpack and started walking to the school exit along with the two boys and Robin.

"No, I'll go to his van to check that everything is well planned and that this new game goes well" you commented smiling, the boys watched you happily and then said goodbye to go to the drama room where they would get ready to play.

"Want a ride? Nance will pick me up to take me to work" commented Robin as she stopped in front of the school doors. You just shook your head.

"I'm fine, thanks. I'll go check out that D&D thing" you told her as you pointed to Eddie's van.

"Perfect, if anything happens call us" Robin started to walk away when she saw Nancy in her car waiting for her. "And remember!" she yelled. "Tom Cruise is a thousand times better, and that's a lot coming from me!"

You just shook your head as you smiled and started walking towards Eddie's car, from which music was blaring, giving you to understand that the boy was inside. As you approached you held your backpack tightly with one of your hands to open the door with the other.

When you opened the car door you were confronted with a scene you hadn't expected to see yet. Chrissy was on Eddie's lap as they both quickly separated to see who had interrupted them. You let out a little scream and then slammed the door shut to leave them alone. Heat ran down your cheeks from the embarrassment you felt as a lump quickly formed in your throat. Inside the car you could hear noises from both teenagers for a moment until the door slammed open again.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that" Eddie commented with a relaxed smile as he held his notes in his hand. "Here's what I was thinking of doing for D&D, anything or suggestions let me know, okay?" he asked as Chrissy's voice could be heard inside the Van calling for him. The boy smiled even wider and handed you his notes to start getting into his car. "Oh, and tell the rest that I'll be there in a few moments" he commented one last time and then closed the door in your face without giving you a chance to say anything else.

You saw his notes in your hands for a few moments and then saw the car door, the music was still playing and this time it was accompanied by Eddie and Chrissy's laughter. You just turned around and started walking towards the school as small tears fell from your eyes and you bit your lip to keep from sobbing on the spot, your cheeks still red with embarrassment. You quickly made your way to the school entrance to go to the Drama room and drop off Eddie's notes.

You weren't planning to check them out.

As you walked in you could hear the voices of the boys excited about their new game. Gareth was the first to turn around, who, upon seeing you, quickly got up from his seat to walk over to you and hug you.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly as you held his shirt tightly for support.

"Eddie and Chrissy" you commented between breaths, however Gareth understood. The boy directed you out of the room so you could have more privacy in the empty hall.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gareth said as he continued to hug you. You just pulled away and denied as you wiped your tears with the palm of your hand.

"No... just take this, the notes. Give them to him when he gets here, yes?" you asked as you handed him the notes and then rubbed your hands on your arms comforting yourself. Gareth just looked at the notes and nodded.

You mumbled a small 'thank you' and started walking towards the school exit to go straight home. You weren't planning on staying to watch them play after what had happened. The walk home wasn't long, so when you arrived you were still crying about what had happened earlier that day.

How had Chrissy gotten in a few days what you had waited more than five years for?

Life was truly unfair.

As you entered your house you could hear your mother in the kitchen listening to the radio to make the place feel so lonely. You left your backpack in the living room and then went to the bathroom. In the mirror you could see that your eyes were crystal clear while the rest of your face was red from crying, you took your time trying to recover and wet your face. When you came out you went straight to your room.

"(Y/n) Is that you?" your mom asked from the kitchen as you lay down on your bed.

"Yes! I'm going to sleep for a while!" You shouted to her as you hugged one of your pillows, hearing no answer you closed your eyes and thought of something other than Eddie. You stayed like that until you fell asleep.

Hours later you felt a hand on your shoulder trying to wake you up while at the same time you felt a gust of wind coming through the window.

"Eddie...?" you asked as you tried to wake up.

"No honey, it's mom. You got mail" Your mother said in a soft voice so as not to upset you, you kept trying to regain consciousness until your brain caught what your mother had said.

You got mail.

You quickly got out of bed to run downstairs. In the kitchen you saw that your mother had put the other two letters next to the new one. You had only applied to three colleges, so your heart was pounding with nerves. Your mom came up behind you to pull up a chair so you could sit down.

The first letter was from Northwestern University, your third choice, which you quickly opened and ran your eyes down the lines hoping to find one you liked.

"I'm in!" you smiled at your mom who hugged you tightly. You pushed aside her response to then open the next letter and second choice. Sadly University of Pittsburgh had left you on the waiting list.

Nervously you looked at your first choice. Columbia. That was your dream since you knew you wanted to write, so you slowly reached out your hand and took the letter. You opened it with all the patience you had at the time, running your eyes over the lines of the letter and taking in all the information you could gather. When you found your answer you let out a gasp and ran out of your house with letter in hand.

You had never run as fast as you did that night, when you arrived at Eddie's trailer you knocked loudly on his door until someone opened the door. Wayne was looking at you while carrying a cup in his hand.

"Hey kiddo, what's up?" The man asked tenderly, after all he saw you as a daughter watching you grow up along with his nephew. You, between breaths, showed him the letter from Columbia. The man read the letter slowly and then let out a sigh of relief and hugged you tightly. "I knew you would make it, you are a pride for all of us," he said between tears. "Eddie's not here, he's out with that girl and I don't know when he'll be back. Do you want me to tell him the good news?" you just shook your head.

"No, I'd like to tell him myself Wayne" you commented as you hugged the letter containing your future. You didn't think to tell him that the fact that Eddie was with Chrissy hurt you - However, Wayne knew about your feelings for his nephew - the man just nodded and then gave you another hug to congratulate you - or maybe comfort you.

Behind Wayne you could see the clock and noticed that Robin was not yet off work, so you said goodbye to Eddie's uncle and started walking straight to the video store. Images of Eddie with Chrissy flashed through your mind and then changed to Columbia. Finally good things were happening.

When you arrived you noticed Robin and Steve arranging several movies, the sign at the entrance said that the store was already closed, but you didn't care and walked through the door making the little bell ring.

"Can't you read? We're closed" Steve said without looking at you as he continued doing his work. Not hearing you leave, the boy turned to look at you. "you doesn't listen either? What already..." you interrupted him by lifting the letter in your hands causing Robin to let out a scream and run to hug you pushing Steve on his way causing the boy to let out a small 'hey'.

"You got in! You got in didn't you? Because if you didn't this would be really awkward" Robin started rambling while holding your shoulders, you just nodded with a huge smile and then hugged again. As you pulled apart you could see Steve looking at you with a smile as he came over to hug you.

"Congratulations" he whispered in your ear causing you to thank him equally whispering.

"Now if you'll have a chance to make a name for yourself, meet Tom Cruise and finally forget about Eddie" Robin commented without thinking causing Steve to pull away from you abruptly to grab your shoulders.

"Eddie? Like Eddie Munson" The boy looked at you quizzically as you nodded shyly, Robin just kept quiet as she watched you, noticing that no one was talking, the girl continued.

"But it doesn't matter, you will leave this place and live the life you deserved and wanted for a long time" She commented as she lifted her shoulders.

"Besides Eddie is with Chrissy" you commented looking at her causing her to stop dead in her tracks and turn to look at you in surprise.

"What? What do you mean?" Robin walked over as you explained to her what had happened outside the school after she had already left. When you finished Robin gave you a hug to comfort you as Steve shifted his gaze from you to Robin.

"What the fuck is going on? I come out of school and the freak is dating the prettiest cheerleader. Nothing makes sense" Steve commented quietly only to get a smack from Robin to shut the guy up. "But it doesn't matter! What matters is that someone from this town will fulfill their dreams at one of the top colleges in the country!" Steve tried to fix what he had said by making you laugh. You won´t let anyone take away your happiness.

However, the next few days and weeks were more complicated. You saw them every day showing some affection causing your jealousy to grow even more. But it all went downhill a few weeks before graduation. At lunch time you were the first to arrive at the table so you decided to take out one of your favorite Stephen King books - you didn't feel like reading something romantic and remember that didn't exist in your life - and distract yourself while the rest of the group arrived. One by one they began to arrive and talk about what they had done the night before.

"(y/n) why haven't you come these days?" asked Dustin as he looked at you with his sparkling eyes and a small smile making you smile. Gareth was just silent as he looked at you worriedly.

"I wasn't feeling well, I wanted to go home to rest before the big day" you commented as you continued your reading. "Hope you didn't miss me too much" you finished jokingly.

"Don't worry, Chrissy made sure there wasn't a girl missing from the game" Mike commented nonchalantly as he began to eat. You looked up so fast you thought you had hurt your neck.

"What?" you asked as you forgot what you were reading, your breathing became faster and faster and instead of sadness, anger began to fill your body. Mike continued talking without seeing that everything he was saying was affecting you.

"Yes, she has come with Eddie and seeing that you haven't been with us she took your place so no players were missing so -OW!" Mike shouted while holding his leg, Gareth -who had hit him- ran a hand across his neck signaling Mike to shut up. Before the boy could say anything else, Eddie arrived along with Chrissy, who sat her on his lap. The cheerleader just let out a small giggle as she blushed at the show of affection.

"Wow, Stephen King! I heard he´s al about horror" Chrissy, cute as ever, tried to draw you out while giving you an honest smile. It was impossible to be mad at her. You just smiled forcedly and nodded.

"He's one of my favorite writers. He's still relatively new to the world of literature but his stories are amazing" you commented as you closed your book then brought your hands under the table and scratched your palms in anxiety. Eddie let out a small laugh causing you both to turn to look at him.

"It's entertaining but kind of slow, personally they're not my thing" he commented as he gave Chrissy a small kiss on the cheek. His comment hurt thanks to the fact that Stephen King books were the reason the two had started their friendship. Chrissy, seeing that the comment had affected you tried to fix the situation.

"But they sound very interesting! Someday I'd like to read them" Chrissy turned to you with a smile as you looked angrily at Eddie.

"You're not going to like them, they're kind of boring" continued Eddie oblivious that you were getting annoyed.

"Eddie..." continued Chrissy. "I don't think-" you interrupted the girl.

"No Chrissy, let him continue. Tell me Eddie, what else is boring you" You said as anger began to take hold of you. Eddie took it as a sign to tease you a little.

"The people who read them. There's something about them that, I don't know, I don't like them" Eddie continued with a smile thinking they were playing games, however you finally snapped, so you got up to quickly grab your stuff and leave. His comment hurt a lot more than he could believe.

"See you guys later" you commented as you left the cafeteria, eyes filling with tears from frustration. Robin, seeing you leave, turned to Eddie to give him the finger and go after you. The entire hellfire club -and Chrissy- were silent, shocked at what had just happened. Eddie was speechless at your reaction, not expecting you to be so upset.

Robin met you in front of your locker as you threw your books down hard and wiped your tears with your hand, frustrating you even more. You, noticing Robin, started saying everything you had been holding in your chest.

"How dare he say such stupid things" you said to her as you slammed your locker shut. "He's an idiot!" you yelled as you kicked your locker trying to get all the anger out, your actions surprised Robin, who had never seen you like this before. Apparently years of holding in a feeling can take a serious toll on a person, especially when you saw them happy with another person.

"Besides, look at them! They're the perfect couple!" You continued in a mocking tone. "She's a walking rainbow, always positive and kind and the perfect popular girl while he's dark shades and metal and what everyone would fear. They complement each other perfectly! God I've been in love with him for years! What an idiot to think I had a single damn chance!" you put your hands over your face so your scream of frustration wouldn't be so loud.

When you took your hands away from your face you found not only Robin -who was leaning on the lockers while looking at the floor and biting her lip- but also Eddie who looked at you surprised by what he had heard.

The three of them were silent not knowing what to say, it was as if your voice had disappeared and his mind had gone blank. Eddie was the first to react by slowly approaching you as if he was afraid you were going to hurt him.

"Hey... I think we need to talk about this" You only shook your head, the boy finally had his desired girl in his arms, besides this was not the way you wanted him to find out about your feelings. You slowly turned around and started to walk away from him, but Eddie had other plans. The boy ran in front of you to grab you by the shoulders. "Look, if this was about the book I'm sorry, it was just a joke dude."

Dude

It was the first time he called you that and the worst time.

You looked at him angrily, eyes red and crystalline. You were already tired of everything that was happening and you didn't think you could take it anymore.

"Don't talk to me, don't come near me, let alone don't think I want to keep putting up with this. Goodbye Eddie." You forcefully removed his hands from your shoulders and then walked towards the school exit. You didn't plan on being there another minute.

Eddie stood looking at where you had gone, trying to think about what had just happened and what he had done wrong to have lost you. His thoughts were interrupted by Robin, who nudged him with her shoulder to go after you.

"If you thought this was all about a stupid book then you're a bigger idiot than I thought you were" Robin commented as she walked off to find you and not leave you alone. After all what you needed most at that moment was a shoulder to cry on and a friend to hug.

-.-

The next few weeks passed quickly, between classes and packing what you were taking to Columbia kept you busy and Eddie out of your mind. Since that sad day you hadn't gone near the table where you used to sit, nor had you talked to any of the club. You just went to sit with Robin and the school band to read. Before you knew it your room was almost empty and graduation day had arrived. You proudly received your diploma as your parents, Wayne, Steve, Robin and Gareth shouted with happiness for you.

Tears were falling and smiles were adorning the place, after a long time you were finally free and you were leaving the place. In the distance you heard screams and saw that the Hellfire club was screaming with excitement because their friend had finally graduated, Eddie looked happy for what had happened, causing you to smile a little, after all you still loved him. Your smile turned nostalgic as you watched him take pictures with Chrissy as they hugged and kissed. Your heart ached not only to see the two of them together, but because you would not see Eddie again for a long time.

Losing your best friend since childhood hurts more than losing a lover.

Robin, dressed in her graduation gown, seeing you looking at Eddie, draped her arm over your shoulders to regain your attention back to your parents and friends.

"We need to go celebrate, after all you are almost leaving and I don't want your last day at Hawkins to be thinking about an idiot" she commented with a smile making you smile as she broke away to take one of your arms. Steve took your other arm to lead you towards the exit of the school you would never set foot in again.

It was time to celebrate.

Eddie looked for you among his friends, Chrissy and the crowd of people so he could hug you, after all you had managed to survive high school too. As he watched you leave with your friends and family -without turning to look at him- he let out a sad sigh and then turned his attention to Chrissy and smile. He had finally graduated and had the queen of Hawkins on his arm.

But why did he feel incomplete?

All afternoon Eddie thought about you, about what had happened, about how he wanted to go with you to celebrate together, to hold you, to be with you. The club had each gone home to enjoy the vacations, Chrissy was with the rest of her cheerleading friends who had graduated and Eddie was lying on his bed in his trailer. Wayne slowly approached with a small cake he had bought Eddie to celebrate his achievement. It wasn't much but it was special to both of them. As he saw his boy lying in his bed he realized how much he was hurting.

"Do you miss her?" Wayne asked as he walked over to Eddie with the small dessert in his hands making the boy smile.

"Chrissy? I'm going to see her tomorrow" he commented as he took the small treat in his hands. Wayne just shook his head.

"I didn't mean the cheerleader" Wayne's comment caused Eddie to duck his head knowing who they were referring to. Of course he missed you, there was no doubt about that, after all one day it was the two of you against the world and the next day it was the two of you against each other while the world watched. "You know, I didn't think you were going out with her" Wayne continued as he noticed the silence in his nephew.

"What do you mean old man?" asked Eddie with a small smile causing Wayne to give him a little shove for the nickname.

"You two were always together, you were inseparable, (y/n) I mean. After all you always liked her" Eddie lifted his shoulders. "And she'd give anything for you. But you still dated the cheerleader"

Eddie stood for a few seconds thinking until he came up with the answer.

"I was afraid" he said as he set the cake down on the small table next to his bed. "(y/n) is this special girl, she loved to dream and live big, there was no stopping her, wherever she was she lit up the room. And I'm...me."

"That's what she loved most about you, that it was just you" Wayne commented.

"I think I'd rather have her next to me as my friend than lose her forever as my girlfriend" Eddie continued as he lay back down, bringing his hands to his face trying to hide the small tears that were falling from his eyes. "And yet I still lost her."

"You should talk to her as soon as possible. Take it as an advice from this old man" Wayne replied as he patted his nephew's leg then got up to leave for work.

Eddie spent the whole night thinking about everything he experienced with you, his past and his future, in every memory you were with him, he also thought about what Wayne had said.

It wasn't until the next day that Eddie finally made his mind, he got up to change his clothes and get ready, it took him a few minutes to find the keys to his van and run out of the house.

When he arrived at your house he noticed that one of your parents' car was missing, but he didn't minde, maybe one of them was already working. Noticing that it was still early, he decided to go to your bedroom window instead of ringing the doorbell and, among several plans, he managed to figure out how to climb the tree to reach your room. When he was well secured so as not to fall he began to lightly touch your window with one of his rings causing a high-pitched sound. After waiting 5 minutes and knocking 3 times he decided to try to open the window, which gave way easily.

As he entered he began to talk, but stopped when he noticed something different in your room. Several things were missing from your place, the white walls looked at him as they were not caught up with the posters you had and most of your books were missing from your bookshelf. Eddie watched your room some more as his breathing began to quicken at not finding you in your room.

You had already left Hawkins.

#eddie munson fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson angst #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn angst #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot

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kopfkino-o · 3 months

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The Seer's Stone - Chapter 6 (Az POV)

Summary: Azriel is being pushed to his limits, driven half-mad by his increased workload, Koschei’s recent movements, and the unaddressed feelings still hanging between him and Elain. His mind is at war with himself, thoughts and regrets constantly battling with him, but when an old acquaintance comes calling he feels compelled to answer, bound by loyalty and duty he sets off to find what very well might be his own damnation.

Pairing: Elain x Azriel

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1970

Read:

Chapter One | The Crone’s Trade

Chapter Two | The Oracle of Seraphyros

Chapter Three | Last of Our Kind (Azriel)

Chapter Four | An Empty Seat

Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn - UPDATED

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! More below 💋

PHEW! After several months of insanity (see: moving to a new city, taking on several new projects at my day job as a graphic designer, getting engaged, traveling to Europe to be in a friend's wedding, hurting my knee again (rip lmao), and the general chaos of being alive) I am so excited to be back writing again. And even more excited to share this latest chapter of the Seer's Stone with the world.

Writing took a back seat within my life last year, due impart to the aforementioned chaos, but also due to some personal anxieties I had about sharing my work. It's irrational, I know, writing is writing, art is art! But still, I found myself lacking confidence and facing a ton of writer's block, but I found some new inspiration through my professional creative work, had a few friends that really helped to cheer me on, and had a lot of downtime after my knee surgery to think about and play around with my craft. All that being said, I'm really really glad to be back at it and revisiting this story, and learning through writing fanfiction.

My plans for the fic haven't changed (too much), but I do think I ought to note that I made some edits to the last update, Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn, that I feel like I just needed to make to provide clarity/build up for the direction of the story.

Lastly, I just wanted to say thank you to the folks who reached to me about this fic even when I wasn't actively updating it and offered me support/encouragement. This meant so so much to me, more than you all probably know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that.

This one's for you guys.

xoxo, Court

There was a building headache in Azriel's temples.

Every beat of his heart reverberated through his skull like a war drum. Azriel worked his jaw, grinding his teeth. There had always been something about the dank darkness of the Hewn City that pressed down on him like a fist, but the hateful place was particularly grating tonight.

Wrong, his shadows murmured, this place is wrong

"Hush," he snapped back at them, in no mood for their whisperings.

The floor shifted underfoot, and the long, stone passageway changed before his eyes, writhing as if it were a living thing. To anyone else, the illusion might have been nauseating, but these tunnels and their strange enchantments had become second nature to him during the time he served beneath Rhysand's father.

The old High Lord had personally keyed the spells into the oily stone walls to prevent his captives from ever learning the true layout of the tunnel system. And, perhaps, to also remind them they were so far beneath the earth they could only dream of feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces again.

He had been cruel like that.

Azriel rounded a bend in the stone and found himself in another long hallway carved directly into the mountain. Only this hallway was lined with ancient, half-rusted cell doors—cells that housed the worst of the Night Court's filth. Or at least, what was left of them.

Halfway down the corridor, Feyre and Amren were waiting for him outside one of those cells, the High Lady and her second-in-command half-concealed in shadow, their whispered voices echoing queerly off the rock walls.

Both females fell silent when they caught sight of him. Something twisted in Azriel’s gut. For them both to be here, in the dead of the night, with Nyx still so young and Varian here in Velaris on a short respite from Adriata, meant something was wrong. The look on Feyre’s beautiful face only confirmed that. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re late,” Amren snapped. It was as much a greeting as he’d get from her.

Azriel matched the second’s same cool indifference. “I was in the middle of something when you sent for me. I came as soon as I could.”

“Off again, doing only the Mother knows what? You don’t fool me, boy. I can smell the Continent on you.”

“I come, I go. So is the nature of my work.”

“Is it, now?”

“If you intend to suggest I’m up to something you disapprove of, then by all means, Amren, do so now and let us be done with it. I’m not here to indulge in idle banter.”

The second-in-command bared her teeth, smoke-gray eyes glowing like two torches amidst the gloom, and for half a heartbeat, Azriel thought she might press the matter.

Then Feyre stepped forward and cleared her throat. There were dark smudges of exhaustion beneath the High Lady’s eyes, but she still looked as regal as ever in her Illyrian leathers, her carved ashwood bow and a matching quiver of arrows peeking up over her armored shoulders.

“Enough, you two,” Feyre said, voice laced with nothing but command. She shot both Azriel and Amren a warning look before folding her tattooed hands behind her back, taking up the position of authority fitting of both a war commander and a queen. “We have bigger matters at hand, and I didn’t leave my infant son asleep at home with a nanny just to come here and listen to you bicker.” She nudged Amren with an armored elbow. “So, won't you be a dear and update our lovely Spymaster on the situation at hand?”

Amren shot him one last distrustful look before answering their High Lady's command. "We picked up two...stragglers...trying to make their way to the Prison Isle. From what we've been able to gather, it appears they were attempting to make their way inside the Prison itself."

Azriel's brows rose. Sneak onto the Prison Isle? That was not only impossible, but it was complete and utter madness. A sick, sudden realization shuddered through him, so fierce it cut through the pounding in his head.

Elain.

Elain was trying to get access to the Prison for reasons still unknown to him. Her and the spellspinner she'd tried so diligently to keep hidden in the Library.

Azriel's shadows had brought him word of their machinations weeks ago, initially tipped off by the arrival of the young spellspinner, and catching Elain in his bedroom yesterday had only confirmed his suspicions, but surely she hadn't gone against his warnings. Surely she hadn't...

"Something wrong, boy?" Amren crooned.

He ignored her. "Tell me everything," he said to Feyre.

"One male, one female. Both don't seem to hold any particular court alliance, but they were...dressed strangely. Almost as if they were trying to blend in with the Library's priestesses. Only their robes were gray, not white, and they carried no invoking stones." Feyre scrubbed a hand down her face. "Rhys caught the male on the beaches; I found the female still on the boat they'd used to reach the Isle."

Azriel might have sighed his relief if only Feyre's words weren't too much to stomach. Elain and her friends, and whatever wild plan they'd concocted, might be safe for now, but an unwelcome stranger trying to land on the Prison Isle was nothing to take lightly. And the fact Azriel, nor his shadows, had seen it coming rankled him.

"I tried to talk to her, wanted to know who she was, why she was there," the High Lady continued. "But she pulled a knife before I could get to her. I watched her open her own throat. Tried to heal her, but to no avail, little thanks to the poison on her blade." Feyre shook her head then tossed a thumb towards the cell door. "Rhys is inside with the male. He won't speak, though. He just keeps... singing."

"Singing?" Azriel echoed.

"He means to mock us," Amren murmured.

It was Feyre who ignored the second-in-command now. The High Lady tipped her head towards the cell door. "You'll see." She said. "We'll be waiting at the Riverhouse for your report."

And with that, Feyre reached a hand for Amren and winnowed them both away, leaving Azriel alone with his pounding head, the ancient black stone, and the iron door looming before him.

Azriel drew in a breath. Down, down, down he sank into himself before he strode for the cell door and shoved it open.

The sharp smell of blood and piss and fear arrested his senses as soon as he stepped into the dimly lit cell.

Old memories reared their ugly heads, taking him back to a different time where he came to these very cells to serve a far different lord. Truth-Teller warmed at his side, steadying him. Azriel wrapped a hand around the dagger's familiar hilt and shoved the memories back inside their iron cages to rot.

He made a quick sweep of the room when his eyes finally adjusted. Shadows clung to the corners of the narrow cell, dark enough to conceal his brother's powerful form hidden within them. Rhys was the darkness here. Anyone else might have missed him, but Azriel knew his brother's scent, the sound of his breathing, and marked where he stood in one of the shadowy corners.

In the center of the cell, bound and blindfolded, sat the captive. His gray robes were bloody, his lip split and broken, but he was singing just as Feyre had promised. Singing some horrible old song.

"...blue blood, red blood, blood black as a moonless night," the captive's voice echoed off the cell walls, garbled and made watery by his mouthful of broken teeth. "A pound of flesh, a pound of bone, a gift for a maiden made of light..."

Azriel's shadows swarmed. They flowed across the old stone floors to circle the captive like a pack of hungry dogs, writhing and twisting as they tried to make sense of him and his strange song. Almost as if the song had offended them. As if it scared them.

The darkness melted, and Rhys appeared from within it, arms crossed and brow furrowed, the mask of the High Lord in perfect place. Stars were dancing in his violet eyes, cold and unyielding, burning with a hunger Azriel himself knew all too well.

"He's been at it all night," Rhys said softly. "The same two verses of the same song, over and over again. It's driving me fucking mad."

"You scramble his brains or something?" Azriel asked.

"Would that I could. His mind is impenetrable. Practically walled off with solid obsidian. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's been prepped on how to face a Daemati, then."

"Or spelled to keep one out of his mind."

The words rose a chill within him, and Azriel found himself watching his brother more closely. Rhys worked a tick in his jaw, violet eyes churning as he assessed the battered man babbling his strange song.

"...away, away, at the crown of midnight..."

Azriel had never heard the tune before. Yet, it rankled him somehow. Dragged cold talons through his guts as if it were trying to make a home there.

Pain pricked behind his eyes, blooming like a thousand burning stars.

Azriel rolled his shoulders, fighting the headache, and drew in a deep breath of the rank air, descending deeper into that inside, readying himself for what was to come.

"He'll break," he said softly.

Rhys did not look at him as he replied. "I know."

Eventually, they exchanged the briefest, most fleeting of looks, but the silent words that passed between them meant everything. Rhys's eyes reminded him that Azriel did not have to do this. That he was, in fact, not his father's son. That this Night Court was a court of dreamers, of sons who were forgiven of the sins of their fathers, of daughters free to live as they pleased.

But the weight of duty had been taught to Azriel decades ago. And it was not a lesson so easily forgotten.

Skin slips easier off the smaller bones, blood congeals at the joints, and the mind always, always fractures first.

The old High Lord had taught him those things. Had made sure Azriel knew them, committed them to his memory so he might never forget his purpose. His worth. The thing he'd been made for.

Azriel slid Truth-Teller from its sheath. "Leave us," he said to his brother, voice soft as night. "I'll bring my report to the Riverhouse."

Rhysand put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the gesture made as if it might spare him, as if it might change what he was and the things he was born to do.

It wouldn't.

Azriel had stopped telling himself such follies a long, long time ago.

So he waited until his brother closed the cell door behind him. Waited until his shadows drank the last bit of light from the dank cell. Waited and listened as the prisoner whimpered the last verses of his swan song.

"...a sword for the son, a horn for the Queen, and dagger for their fool..."

Once, when he was just a boy, the shadows had taught him there was a place he could go, somewhere he could hide from his father's wrath, from his brothers' hate. Somewhere deep within himself. A place where he felt nothing, saw nothing.

Was nothing.

Azriel went to that place now, hiding somewhere deep within himself. He thought of roses as he raised Truth-Teller to the pale flesh of the prisoner's chest and began to cut.

Blood bloomed and the ache in Azriel's head erupted like a thunderclap.

And a dagger for the fool.

#the seer's stone #elriel fanfiction #the seer's stone fanfic #elriel

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yourmaidsp · 1 month

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How do you come up with your compositions? They are so cool I wanna know if you have any huge inspirations :-) your art is so lovely

Hiiiiiii! Awww thanks for the appreciation!

I'm actually working on a more comprehensive art tutorial rn (bc someone asked here earlier), that would include composition， but I'll do a shorter answer first for u bc you're asking sth. more specific ?( hope it's okey (❁´◡`❁))

(Oh and also I've seen ur req! don't worry, I'm doing that as well, it's just there's still some before yours( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`))

Um and when the long tutorial is out, feel free to check that out ~

On Composition:

Goal

For me the goal of my illustration r Storytelling n full on Emotional experience.

(It's something I've been trying to achieve but cannot guarantee I hit it all the time, sometimes bc of my habit I'll lost myself during the process and looking back find out I miss something important, so the following is the best theories I could provide. Most of improvement r still in daily practice(●'◡'●))

To paint with beautiful compostion, you'll first have a solid story in mind, it can be simplified into " who when where n what", writing them down on a note n stick it near by would help.

And as to emotional experience, is something I can't get hold of all the time... music might help I guess? I have headcanon playlists for every chatacter or ship I wanna paint, and extract emotions from them everyday.

But there's some practical methods too.

Methods

I've worked storyboard n director for 2 years in the past, even though I'm not proud of the projects I worked on, some knowledge might still be useful.

It's mostly 2 methods: Silhouette & Movement

Well for silhouettes there's already bunch of books discussing this, one of my favs is Framed Ink, I'm sure u can find a pdf somewhere on the net.

(I find this photo on the internet bc mine is not around)

Basically it's that, think about the objects within your image, by using shadows n their original colors, you can split it into interesting shapes. This will visually elevate the overall feeling of composition.

Also, there's a cheat build in humem's understanding of an image.

basically this, putting important object on the 1/3 points of an image is the fastest cheat.

Also, contrast your silhouette. If you're painting sth that has no background, try giving your silhouette a constrasted design.

(like in this one, the right side is smooth but I'm putting lots of variation on the left.)

For movement, think about your image as a shot taken when your characters r doing sth.

They would each have a direction to move to, and that forms their movement. Your job here is to arrange them into logical or emotional lines.

If it's a series of work, u can plan out the movement toward the same direction.

(the only time you're seeing their car facing left is when they stopped, I was trying to say that their trip kinda ends here)

Also for manga, comic n movie, make sure your important information is within safe area.

(the area within dotted lines is the safe area, u want your character's expression to be mostly within it. if it's like extreme close-up, the certain area u want to emphasize should be within it.)

I have some examples for these two theories.

First let's analyze this screenshot of one of Kurosawa's film, Seven Samurais.

The story here is that these guys r about to fight, possibly some big conflict. There silhouette can be sumed up like this, within the orange line.

We see this guy sticking out from this shape, implying he might be the head of this crowd.

Movement wise, their spears n heads face the same direction, telling u that the enemy will come from that side. Even this is a still frame, the movement is implied perfectly.

Another sample from Synecdoche,NY by Charlie Kauffman

This is a minimalist way of conveying emotion, u only see one main character here, and hardly any movement. Why is it so powerful?

Our main character, Caden, is in the almost center of this shot. He has a clear n simple shape. You don't normally put your main object in the center, so we'd assume he's very important.

Then there's this repeated notes in the background. When something is repeated a lot, it giver u an impression of pressure. Especially when he's surrounded by them, and they take more space within the frame than he does.

Also, this is a down shot, the camera is pointing down and behind him. You'll feel your character being watched or at his lower point of life when u do that.

Inspirations:

Movies mostly, and traditional artists.

Back when I was in film school I watched a bunch of movies n that slowly became a habit, movies r very good sources for ideas.

Even if you're not having enough time, watching reviews n analysis would also help, (but I'd suggest u try to consume the films not listening to critics to get a unique experience.)

Some of my favourite directors are:

Kelly Reichardt (First Cow)

Apichatpong (Tropical Malady, Memoria);

Charlie Kaufman (Synecdoche NY, Adaptaion);

Satoshi Kon (Paprika, Perfect Blue);

Kurosawa Akira (Yume, Kagemusha );

Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz );

Kusturica (Black Cat White Cat, Underground 1995);

Carol Reed (The Third Man)

Errrm I hope it's helpful? (❁´◡`❁) The next tutorial is gonna be even longer.

#maid's requests #art tips #art theory

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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months

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hi!! i love ur dalton fics and i was wondering if you could write one based before the red door where dalton and the reader are child hood friends and they are in high school. maybe some angst along with it 🫶🫶

Hi! Thank you so much, I'm glad you love them!! Ask for angst, and angst you shall receive! Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this one so I may revisit this request and try again later (the title is the only thing I'm sure I like). I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted though! :)

Warnings: angst, references some of the events of Insidious (2010). 1.0k+ words.

Beg You to Stay, Push Me Away

You wait for Dalton by his locker, one of your many traditions since starting high school. You have known Dalton for most of his life, and the time taken from you during his coma only strengthened your relationship.

“Morning, sunshine,” you call as Dalton approaches.

He smiles when he sees you, shaking his head fondly. “You’re too energetic.”

“Perhaps it is you that is not energetic enough, D-Dog.”

Dalton turns to you, his fingers freezing halfway through his combination. “What did you call me?”

“I was trying something. Didn’t work.”

Dalton shakes his head again, chuckling at your antics. He finishes what he’s doing, then gestures for you to lead the way.

“Ten bucks says our English prompt is romance-related,” Dalton proposes.

“Oh, I’ll take that deal. There’s no way it’s not something historical.” Dalton extends his hand, and you shake it once before entering the classroom.

“Nice of you to join us,” your teacher says, looking at the clock, “twelve seconds before the bell rings.”

“We aim to please,” you respond as you sit behind Dalton.

“Today you will write a page about where you plan to go to college and why,” your English teacher announces.

Dalton turns to you and shakes his head in defeat, mouthing, “Tie?”

You nod, and he smiles before turning back around. As you write, you remember the conversations you and Dalton had as a kid about being together forever, even in college. The moment you decided to sacrifice your Ivy League hopes in exchange for a life with your best friend.

“Your time is up, turn them in and start reading chapter 6 while I grade them,” your teacher says.

Dalton stands, allows you to walk by him, and follows you to the desk.

“I’ll give you two peas in a pod a pass if these papers are the same.” When you sit back down, Dalton turns to you again. The teacher doesn’t care this time; no one reads while she grades.

“Why would they be the same?”

“Because we’re going to the same school,” you answer with a laugh. Dalton still looks confused. “Remember? We’ve said for years we had to stay close.”

“I don’t remember that. Besides, I want to go to art school.”

Dozens of questions float through your mind, but your teacher interrupts the conversation.

“We’ll talk later,” Dalton whispers as he turns.

Dalton doesn’t remember some things before his coma, but this conversation has happened many times. As the class ends, you walk out before Dalton has packed his things, unsure if you want to talk to him.

“Hey, why’d you leave so fast?” Dalton asks as he sits beside you in the next class.

“I had to go to the bathroom first,” you answer, not looking up from your notebook.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect.”

Dalton tries to talk to you several more times before lunch, but you tell him you’re busy or can’t hear, even raising your hand and asking to go to the nurse once. He knows you’re upset but isn’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t remember a conversation or art school.

Standing at your locker before lunch, you jump when someone leans against the locker beside yours.

“What did I do?” Dalton asks. “And don’t make up another excuse not to talk to me.”

You sigh and push a notebook into your locker with too much force.

“Nothing, Dalton, I’m just tired, I think.”

“You weren’t tired earlier. I’m sorry that I forgot our conversation about college.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, smiling as you close your locker.

“Then what is the problem?”

“Um, can we just talk later?”

Dalton swallows harshly and nods. “I’ll see you in history.”

“Have fun at art,” you reply.

Just as this morning, you wait for Dalton as school ends. You plan to tell him that it hurt your feelings he forgot something important to you.

“Hey.” Dalton smiles as he walks to you. “Want to see what I drew in art?”

“Sure, but in a minute? Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You wait until students have cleared out for some privacy before you begin talking.

“So… My feelings were hurt, and I reacted childishly, and I’m sorry.”

“I hurt your feelings?” Dalton asks quietly, stepping closer.

“You forgot about going to college together.” You shrug.

“I’m sorry. I- When did we talk about it?”

“When didn’t we, Dalton? We’ve talked about it pretty much every back-to-school season since kindergarten.”

“Oh. Um, yeah. Where did we want to go? Somewhere with an art program, I hope.” Dalton laughs at his last sentence, and you realize he doesn’t care as much as you do.

“How long have you wanted to go to art school?”

“As long as I can remember.”

You nod and pull on your fingers. “I just don’t understand how you forgot something so important.”

“Going to the same college is that important?”

“I thought so.”

“I mean, it’s the twenty-first century, we could video chat and text every day, that way we could both chase our dreams,” Dalton argues.

“And what if staying close, going to the same college, was my dream?” You ask, hoping that you don’t start crying.

“Then you can go to the same school as me. But I found an art program that’s my dream.”

You take a deep breath, now trying not to yell. “Forget it, Dalton.”

“You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all day and now you just want me to ‘forget it’? Over a stupid college decision?”

“No! What was stupid was being so willing to throw away an Ivy League education to follow you. Do whatever you want!”

“I will! I’m going to art school, no matter the sacrifices.”

“You know what, Dalton, I hope you get into that art school. And I hope we end up on opposite sides of the world. And maybe someday you will realize that the people closest to you didn’t deserve to be pushed so far.”

You walk out, slamming the door, and Dalton’s mind flashes to a different door.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #requests

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yrluvjane · 2 years

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Baby love

James Potter x fem!reader

"You literally forgot to switch off the bloody stove and almost burned down your family house." Y/n scoffed.

"I was young! And an idiot!" James defended, jogging to meet his girlfriend's accelerated pace.

"That was two weeks ago but five points for knowing what you are." Y/n said as she softly patted a pouting James's cheek.

"Okay, how about l cook and you can switch the stove on and off? And can you slow down.." He said slightly panting from running after his girlfriend the whole day. Y/n stopped and faced him.

"You can't cook. And before you say anything, last night you tried to cook spaghetti and ended up mixing up tomato paste with Harissa paste." Y/n winced the taste of hot chilli still present somewhere in her tongue.

"It was red! Tomatoes are red! And it was a paste!" He exclaimed, motioning with his hands.

Y/n sighed and began walking again, moving from corridor to the other. "The lasagna incident?" She said as James grimaced.

James had wanted to surprise Y/n with dinner and had asked Sirius for help, let's just say the kitchen had ended up wearing it.

"That was Padfoot's fault." Y/n rolled her eyes. "What about your barbecue party?"

"...okay that was on me.. But I didn't know you were supposed to oil it first." James said, he speed up a little and got in his girlfriend's way, making her stop.

He grabbed her hands and put on his best puppy look, which Y/n immediately recognised. "No! James, I don't need another incident!"

"Please!"

"No.

"Pleeease!!"

"No."

"Please! Please! Please!"

"James as I sai-. Do you hear that?" She stopped, her face expressing confusion.

"Hear what?" James asked mirroring Y/n's emotions.

Y/n furrowed her brows looking around, she scrunched up the sides of her robes in her hands and began speed walking towards a hallway.

"What's wrong?"

"I could've sworn l heard!-"

"AH GabLAA!" A voice shouted. Both James and Y/n's head snapped towards the direction of the voice.

The quickly rushed over to the voice and stood shocked infront of what they met.

"Is that a-" James began shocked.

"A baby!" Y/n finished happily as she cooed at the two year old looking human. "Hello! What are you doing here?" Y/n said as she picked the baby up in her arms.

The baby let out a string of incoherent words as Y/n face fell into one of 'awww' as many would call it. "Aren't you the most adorable little thing?Why don't we go find your parents, huh?" She said as she booped his nose, making it laugh.

James watched confused and sad as his girlfriend ignored him and just baby talked to the toddler who just giggled and clawed at her.

The only time she'd speak to him is when she'd say something along the lines of "Aww, James isn't he adorable?" Or "Jamie, look at him!"

James pouted and crossed her arms watching his so called girlfriend fawn over another guy, even if he was a two year old!

They turned around another corridor and faced a panicked woman, man, a young girl and a very worried Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, thank merlin!" The woman shouted running over to Y/n with tears in her eyes. "Thomas!" The man shouted relieved as the girl also ran over all huddling around Y/n.

"You must be his parents! I found this little lad all the way in the East Wing." Y/n chuckled as she moved to hand Thomas' to his parents.

James's lips lifted at the fact he gets his girlfriend back but he had hoped too high because the second she tried to pull him off 'Thomas' began crying.

The baby screamed and made grabby hands toward Y/n as his mum tried to shush him but there was no avail.

"He never let's anyone touch him." The woman said as she placed the baby back in Y/n's arm. It immediately stopped crying and began giggling and grabbing onto Y/n's chubby cheeks making James jealous because he was perfectly happy being the only one to do that.

"Well, Mr. And Mrs. Anderson this is Professor L/n, she is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and this is her partner-"

"James Potter!" The girl said as James smirked.

"I'm a big fan!" She said smiling wildly. "Bloody Hell, are you really?" Mr. Anderson asked awed.

"Pleasure to meet you." James said putting a hand put shaking the two starstruck fans. See, James happened to be one of the top three chasers in the world and held the number one spot in most scored goals.

"It's an honour to meet you...Me and my daughter are a big fans, she already said that, I'm sorry. We just moved to London from New York and we were hoping to transfer her from llvermorny to Hogwarts." Mr. Anderson said, every once in a while looking back at a beaming James.

"Well Hogwarts is great." Y/n said. Mrs. Anderson faced het with a soft smile. "How long have you been teaching here?"

"Three years."

"And how would you say your class is doing?"

She asked as Y/n blinked, not prepared for the question. "They do well."

"Professor L/n is being modest, every O.W.L and N.E.W.T student that ever entered her classroom has left with a bright 'O'" Professor McGonagall said smiling proudly at the blushing young Professor.

"Really?" All three Andersons faced Y/n with a shocked expression. "They do well." Y/n sheepishly replied. "That's amazing!" Mr. Anderson said.

"Why don't I show you to Charms?" McGonagall said but when Mrs. Anderson wished to get back her son he began screaming and thrashing once more.

"I've got an idea. I finished my classes today. Why don't I take the little rascal on a private tour of Hogwarts while McGonagall gives you your own and 'll meet by the Great Hall for lunch?" Y/n suggested.

"Oh no, we don't want to bother you!"

"Nonsense! I'll have him back by two. You enjoy your tour." Y/n said as James stared in horrified shock at the girl, his happiness being crushed even more when Mrs. Anderson agreed and the family left with McGonagall.

Now James stood in the middle of the hall, glaring at the two year old that was pulling on Y/n's under chin as the latter scrunched her nose and bounced the boy on her hip.

"Well, isn't this...Great." James said through gritted teeth.

"I know! So where should we go?" Y/n asked but she wasn't asking her boyfriend, she was asking the baby.

"I think the greenhouse is empty. Jamie, you coming?" She questioned as she began to walk away. Soon followed by her pissed off partner.

How come she's paying more attention to it than me? l'm the boyfriend! I should be the one getting hugs and cuddles and kisses! James angerly thought.

He was standing at the back of the Herbology classroom watching Y/n point to various plants, explaining them to their unwelcomed guest, who probably didn't understand anything that came out of her mouth.

He looked down on his watch for what felt like the twentieth time in ten minutes.

12:41

He sighed, "Y/n?"

"Yes, love? No, no." Y/n replied back as she pulled the baby away from a plant that looked as if it wanted to eat it.

"I'm hungry" James said.

Y/n faced him before looking down at her watch. "Well..I guess we could drop by the Kitchen."

"Great." James said as he walked over to her and threw an arm around her shoulder. The baby looked up at him and tilted it's head.

"This is my boyfriend, Jamie." She said as she lovingly put a hand on his chest. "Yes, boyfriend. The person she loves." James leaned down to kiss his girlfriend's cheek, glaring at it the whole time.

"So, food?"

Around 15 minutes later they sat around a small kitchen island with tens of House elfs shuffling around them, placing plates over plates of food a front of them.

Y/n was on one side of the table, wand over a bowl of boiled potato and carrots. She began to motion her wand in a circle, magicing the contents to stir and mush into eachother.

"Y/n, love." James said as he walked over to her and shoved a spoonful of food in front of her startled face.

She blinked once-twice before her face softening and opened her mouth so that James could feed her.

"What was that for?" She asked teasingly. She shrunk a spoon and changed its colour to yellow and blue before she began to feed the monstrous beast that was stealing his girlfriend.

"Just a reminder that I love you." He said lovingly, forgetting about the small human. That was until the abomination decided to grab a handful of mush and chuck it at James's face.

Y/n gasped as James's face made an 😵. "Jamie..." Y/n began as she put the laughing Thomas down on the counter and grabbed a napkin.

James's face scrunched up in disgust as he let out a whimper of his ego and pride being hurt. "I'm so sorry." Y/n whispered as she led him to a chair and began wiping his face.

"Dippy?" Y/n asked.

Not a second later a house elf appeared, Y/n kindly asked her to take care of Thomas for a few minutes as she finished something.

"I hate it." James said as Y/n gently wiped his face. He was sitting on a stool, his girlfriend standing in between his legs, both his hands on her hips.

"It?"

"That child." He said angerly. Y/n paused for a moment and looked at him with an amused grin.

"James, are you jealous of a baby?"

"I-No!"

"Is this why you've been in a bad mood since we met him?" She asked as James looked mortified, unable to speak.

She let out a loud laugh that ringed out in the empty room. "I'd appreciate it if you did not laugh at me."

"Oh, James." She said as she wetted a cloth and cleaned his face for the last time before drying it.

"I'm not gonna pick a baby over you." She said as she kissed his nose. "You ignored me the whole day." He stated. He looked up at Y/n with slight widened eyes. "Do-...Do you want a baby?"

Y/n's mouth paused at an 'O', barely letting out any sound. She shook her head off the trance and spoke.

"I mean sure, I'd love to have a child someday. My mum was a doctor, sometimes I'd go with her. I'd spend my time with newborns and helping the nurses, i guess that's why i like them so much. Do you want one?"

James furrowed his brows as he thought.

He wondered what it would be like to have a child. He's thoughts flashed to Y/n with Thomas. Her playing with him, calming him, feeding him.

He imagined himself, Y/n and a small baby, scattered around the kitchen. Y/n by the stove, humming as she cooked. A little child sitting on the table playing with blocks.

James entering an wrapping his arms around Y/n's waist, kissing her head and whispering Good morning. Him moving over to the child, hugging it and doing the same thing.

Him and the child playing outside in the large yard. Him teaching them Quidditch. Taking them to the station for Hogwarts.

Him and Y/n on either side of the bed, the child in between them as Y/n read them a book to sleep and him making funny, silly faces and deep mocking voices.

Him, Y/n and the child all siting on the ground at night, in front of the warm fireplace, a board game in between them.

He seemed to snap out of this fantasy when Y/n cupped his cheek. He stared at her worried expression. "James look-"

"Yea, I'd love to have a child with you someday." He said and watched as her face morphe into surprise.

"You want a baby...with me?" She asked softly as she brushed her thumb over his jaw. James smiled confidently. "Yeah, I do."

Her eyes slightly welled up with tears as she broke into a smile and a shakey laugh escaped her mouth.

"Don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry." James said as he sat her on his lap and wiped away her tears.

He removed her hands from his face and turned to hold her to his chest, head lying on his shoulder. One hand rubbed her back while the other cradled her head. “I love you.” He whispered softly, kissing Y/n's hand, then her temple.

"I love you more, James. So much more." She whispered as she tilted her head up and kissed the side of his neck. James tilted his head so he faced her and brought their lips together for a kiss filled with undoubted love.

They sat in their position for a few minutes until James broke the silence. "I just realised something."

"We still have to take care of Thomas." Y/n said as she rested her head tiredly against James.

"We still have to take care of Thomas." James repeated matter-of-factly and chuckled for the first time today.

"I'm seriously regreting this now." Y/n said as she shut her eyes.

"There's....20 minutes to lunch." James said.

Y/n sighed and pushed herself off James. Just before she could leave, he twirled her into his arms one more and kissed her lovingly.

When they pulled away, Y/n stood in his arms with a soft smile. "Y/n?" He asked between kisses.

"Mmm?"

"Can I cook tonight?" He asked.

Y/n pulled away. She angerly stared at him before leaving out the door, cursing.

@twilightlover2007 I'm so sorry it's late, I got even sicker. (Now I'm well, thank you.) I only finished half of it today. I hope you like it.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james fleamont potter #james potter thoughts #james potter x y/n #harry potter #james potter fluff #marauders era #maradaurs era #marauders x reader #the marauders era #the marauders

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danpuff-ao3 · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

Oooh, thanks for passing this to me, Lizzy! 😄 Let's see....100 fics, how to choose 5? 🤔 Well all know #1 already, don't we? 😂 So I'll take a leaf out of Lizzy's book and do a countdown to 1!

5.) A Matter of Time

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 3,686. Written for Snarry Adopt-a-Prompt 2022. Features reverse chronology and alternating POVs! Also: ambiguous/open ending (my love!) It feels like the Snarry of my youth, that angsty and spicy student/teacher, and some good old fashioned tragedy! I really feel like I pulled the thing off with this one! (What is said "thing"? Who knows.) Also, not to pat myself on the back but...that final line? Ouch.

4.) Cruel Summer

Harry/Sirius. Rated: E. Words: 5,445. Minor Harry/Severus. Written for HP Chan Fest 2022-2023. Features gorgeous art by @mrviran. It's a fic I've had floating around my noggin' for a few years but finally felt the call to write for Chan Fest! Our two beloved, troubled boys (Harry and Sirius) live together post PoA, and sees them through plenty of dysfunction, manipulation, and other problematic content 🤭 They have a very complicated (and angsty!) connection and I am so so pleased with how it came out! It's very bit as spicy, sad, and twisted as I'd hoped!

3.) The Curse of Anteros

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 52,566. Written for Snarry Bang 2023. Inspired by an episode of Charmed called "Magic Hour" (which itself was inspired by a movie called Ladyhawke). This is another idea I've long wanted to write, but never knew how to write it until now. Curses, fairytales, magical animals, true love!! Begins with student/teacher and carries on through time to old men Snarry!!!! This fic really grew way out of control and I'm so glad it did. It feels like...a "proper" story, if that makes sense? Actual plot! Novel length! Who am I even???? Anyway I'm stupidly proud of this one. Also: ART BY MRVILLAIN AGAIN, MY BELOVED TEAMMATE, I'M OBSESSED. Like...idk I'm blown away. Which sounds bad cuz this is my story, but I don't care. This is genuinely a story that not only was I so pumped to create, but one that I'd have LOVED to read as a reader! Had someone else written this I'd have lost my mind reading it. I hate saying that, it sounds so arrogant, but I don't care, I'm losing my mind over this one. I wrote it in like 2 weeks!!!! This fic POURED out of me! And I love it!

2.) Collateral Damage

Draco/Ron. Rated: E. Words: 16,071. Written for Ron-Draco Fest 2021. The first draft of this got to like 10k before I had to scrap it and start totally over. Somehow the original opening kept winding down the wrong path. So finally after fighting with it for way too long (and only 2 weeks to go until it was due), I gave it up and tried again. Decided: "hey, let's open with porn and see what happens." Well...That worked. That did it. All I needed was to open with a BJ for magic to happen, who knew? I ended up with a story I was super jazzed about, and to my great surprise (and pleasure!) others loved it, too!!

1.) Contempt | Devotion

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 20,400 | 25,843. Written for Snarry-a-Thon 2022 and 2023. This one's cheating a bit since it's technically 2 fics, but it's also the same story in different POVs so...it kinda counts, right? Also I know people have told me they liked Devotion more but I can't help but admit that Contempt itself still holds the top spot in my heart! And while I think say The Curse of Anteros is a better overall story, I don't think any fic ever will top Contempt. I mean, never say never, but Contempt is the story of dreams. It's my heart and soul. It's the Snarry I've always wanted to write. The story, the dynamic, the characterizations, everything. It's everything I've wanted in a Snarry since I first began reading Snarry 20 years ago. Like...I have no words to express just how meaningful this work is to me. This is literally the culmination of all of my Snarry feels. I dragged this story out of my gut. I pulled it out of my skin and wrote it in my blood. That's how connected I am to this work. (Wow that sounds really dramatic but also...true.)

Genuinely I was so cared people would hate it, but I wrote it anyway because I needed it and I loved it. I'm very glad to say that plenty of others love it with me! And this is another one @mrviran offered love to in the form of a podfic! (Plus cover art!) I'm fully obsessed with the podfic (AND ART!) and I get all teary eyed when I think about it, that my dear friend worked so hard to bring more life to my baby. 🥹

Kinda funny how my favorite works (and what i consider some of my best works) were all for fests. Fests really do inspire me, even if they make me want to pull my hair out. 😂

Also is it cheating to give honorary mentions to Lover Boy at Play, In My Veins (In My Blood), Orange Blossoms, Teardrop in Your Palm, and Black Skies? 👀

#self recs #snarry #dron #sirry #favorites #top 5 #self love #positivity post

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pleuvoire · 7 months

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Rosemary, since youre the one who got me to listen to more PinocchioP recently, I'd love to know what your favorites of his are if you'd like to share :3

HEHE….. strap in this might get a little long. i like his music a lot. gonna start with my top favorites and then just throw other ones onto the pile from there

nobody makes sense - probably my top favorite. LOVE a good "life has no meaning so we have to create meaning" theme, and the visuals are beautiful. i'm buried in a garbage heap, looking up at the stars...

nice to meet you, people of earth (my own translation of the title lol) - ALWAYS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. the strengths and faults of humanity viewed through the eyes of a hopeful outsider...

loveit - a quiet melancholy one about easily getting sucked into self-destructive relationships... and the mv is beautiful

anonymous m - best of his recent work imo. LOVE a good meta exploration of hatsune miku as a character or not-character

lonely ufo - one of the first songs of his i ever heard. makes me emotional...

ghosts play to the audience - really interesting song about creative integrity vs crowd-pleasing as an artist and the unclear boundary between the two. also about ghosts! and it bangs!

yozurina - a song about the uncertainty and attachment of long-distance love. dawn comes again...

vocaloid is lame - a melancholy song about dealing with haters of one's work that sort of turns into a classic pino-p "finding optimism in the midst of your sadness" thing. the high note on the astronaut line always makes me tear up a bit

everything about animals - duet between miku and pino-p himself! "there's tigers, horses, deer, working adults, livestock, monkeys, you who once raised your first cry..."

it's a festival, hey come on! - i only checked this one out recently because of the creative mixed-media mv and it took a while to grow on me but now i think the chorus is so catchy. flashing lights cw

tonchinkan feast - possibly the first of his songs i ever heard. kind of an oddball but i love the creative mv. my party trick is i can sing this from memory. if you listen to it you'll understand why it's a party trick

motivation is dead - THEE depression song

god-ish - i'm sorry vocaloid community for putting this one so far down the list i just thought of a bunch of other ones first. this one got so crazy popular it shows up in "all time miku songs" tribute art. kind of wild. i was there when it dropped, who'da known...

magical girl and chocolate - another recent one that got popular although not to the insane degree of god-ish. when i find a toku character to apply this to it's over for you guys

non-breath oblige - forgot about this one for a bit but it's so good it makes me emotional. wish it was humanly possible to sing

and i'm just gonna throw ultimate senpai, what's inside, kick ass literally, nee nee nee, and mushroom mother onto the pile real quick before this gets too long. you've already seen 404, apple dot com, what yama says goes, last continue, reincarnation apple and common world domination from my other post so i didn't write up a blurb for any of those but those are some classic favorites of mine too, especially the first three. NOW as if this post wasn't long enough here are some collabs and stuff of his i like:

i'm a controversy by ado - vocals by ado, written and produced by pino-p. aka THE FUCKING DREAM TEAM EVER. this song expresses ado's conflicted reaction to the controversy she's generated with the social criticism in her music. imo THEE best song to come out of the voca-p adjacent circle this year. mv goes hard too

(not) a devil - collab with deco*27, another insanely popular voca-p, possibly the most insanely popular one currently active. as you can imagine this one made quite a splash. i like duet collabs like this because you can hear the difference in how each artist tunes their miku. pino-p's muted soft-spoken miku ftw

gorgeous big conversation - collab with utsu-p, a less popular but still fairly big voca-p known for his signature heavy metal sound which you can hear in this song. i love the lyrics of this one they are silly and surreal, i wish this video was subbed. shoutout to internet comedian arufa who is the guy in the video, he also provided the human voice in anonymous m. you may know him from this video which got popular on tumblr

ok hope this wasn't too long :) enjoy!!! also, i put these in no particular order, but if you pay attention to the upload dates think it's interesting to see how the style evolves over time. also did you know the art is done by pino-p himself :) with some exceptions obviously but that distinctive style you see always popping up is done by him

#going through the official channel made me realize how many pino-p songs i haven't listened to yet #i should fix that #✉️#doomednarrative

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andromedaexists · 4 months

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WUPDATE: χεῖμα

Saturday, Jan 20th || Return From Death

Heyyo, long time no talk. I mentioned very briefly at the beginning of the year that I was going through some shit but I think I'm starting my slow return to the living!

tl;dr, I had a major health crisis that has still left me unable to breathe correctly 20 days later. Day one of 2024 was spent in the ER and I hope that isn't setting a tone for the rest of the year

But that's besides the point! I want to return to writing! That's my passion! and even though I've been in the throes of imposter syndrome I know that I *can* return! So I'm gonna!! Starting next week y'all are gonna get Incorrect Eyes content, including an official intro post for the religious horror novella!

Before we get that far, though, I wanna tell y'all about a holiday project I didn't announce on tumblr: χεῖμα

χεῖμα is a cozy winter get-away to a cabin in the middle of the woods with the main cast of the Call Me Icarus series. Needless to say, it's not something I normally write. But I really needed something soft and happy, so that's what a wrote!

SUMMARY

In a different life, a different world, Icarus is invited for a winter holiday to Achilles' family cabin.

What ensues is a cozy tale of mischief and shenanigans as Icarus and company get snowed in and learn to love despite the annoyances and grievances that surround them.

Χεῖμα is a non-canonical short story set in what would ostensibly be our modern world with the main cast of Δάιος. This short story does not require you to read Δάιος, but it does assume familiarity with the characters.

And with that introduction, I wanted to let y'all know that this is a FREE story available on my itchio!!! And you can add it on GoodReads!!

Another important thing to note with this work is that there are two variations: the bell pepper edition and the chili pepper edition. They are same story with the exact same story line, but the chili pepper includes a sex scene and the bell pepper does not! So if you just want a cozy, pg-13 story, you can go with the bell pepper edition and if you want to read a scene where Icarus gets eaten out as an act of worship, then you can check out the chili pepper edition!

I also wanna share some snippies as well as the art I drew for the story, so if you wanna see those check out below the cut ↓

Okay, so imma share the art first:

(yes it's formatted like a book cover. no i am not selling physical copies of this book)

And one more piece of art:

And without further ado, some snippets I really love!

This time, when Icarus looks into the living room, he’s met with an even more heavenly sight than the fireplace: his family. Patroclus and Andromeda are sitting on the couch talking animatedly to each other while Thanatos is curled up in a chair to their left typing on his laptop. Achilles is flitting around a large tree in the back corner, twirling strands of orange slices and cinnamon on it. A warm and fuzzy feeling comes over Icarus as his gaze sweeps over everyone doing their own thing. This is his family, his home. He makes his way to join them, plopping down in the other unoccupied chair across from Thanatos. It’s only as he sits down that Andromeda looks over at him, smiling. “You came!” “Of course I did,” Icarus responds as he makes himself comfortable. “You had me kidnapped!” “I didn’t kidnap you,” Apollon says, spooking Icarus. He’s a lot closer than Icarus expected, leaning his hip against the side of the oversized chair Icarus is curled up in. “I showed up at your place and asked if you were ready to go. You willing got into my car. That’s not kidnapping.” “I think it counts,” Icarus grumbles, sinking further down into the chair.

And another snippet:

Icarus wakes up the next morning bundled in blankets with a hand running through his hair. He groans, but does not move. This is heaven, right here curled up in an isolated cabin with his ex-best friend playing with his hair. “Good morning, Birdie. Sleep well?” All Icarus can do in response is shush him. He’s not ready to be awake, not ready to face whatever it is that’s going on between the two of them. Apollon laughs and his hand stills. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but Andromeda stopped by a bit ago and said they made lunch. Whenever you wanna get up, we can eat.” But Icarus doesn’t want to get up. Ever. This is his own personal paradise, he would rather eat glass.

One more?

“What happened, is everyone alright?” Apollon asks, his voice panicked as he slides into the view. Icarus can see the moment he realizes that everything is fine, the worry melts off his face and the tension in his shoulders drops. Icarus smiles up at him, dropping his hand as he says, “Yeah, I just came to wake Meda up.” “You fucking dick! You gave me a fucking heart attack!” they respond, throwing their pillow at the side of Icarus’ head. He catches it, the action reigniting his laughter at the situation. Maybe they were right. Maybe the one thing Icarus needed to do was just exist for once, let loose and breathe outside of the rebellion. As the day crawls by in cozy comfort, Icarus realizes that this is what he’s always wanted. A home.

Ah fuck it, one more to explain the pancake sticker:

As Icarus turns into the kitchen he finds his distraction: Achilles standing at the stove. The kid looks thoroughly distraught as smoke and a pungent burning smell rises from the pan in front of him. Without thinking, Icarus swoops in and grabs the pan before rushing to the front door and dumping the whole thing in the snow. “I see you tried to make breakfast,” he says, turning back towards the kitchen. Now that he’s not worries about the burning food, he can see that the kid got out all the ingredients to make pancakes. And man, do pancakes sound delightful. “Yeah, I uh,” Achilles says, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to make breakfast for everyone like you did yesterday.” “That sounds great, looks like you got all the stuff for pancakes. Why don’t we make another batch?”

Honestly I debated tagging anyone since this is not normal CMI content, but I have a feeling y'all will love it anyways so:

@flowerprose @isherwoodj @cream-and-tea @touchingmadness @lockejhaven @marinesocks @wildswrites @the-finch-address @leighvalentine @inkspellangel @outpost51 @hclyeden

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

#call me icarus #wip update #writing #writeblr #wip excerpt #wupdate #tragedy #adult fantasy #dark fantasy #andi writes

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arwenadreamer · 1 year

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Regarding the hate being thrown at JiB staff right now for not allowing that fanart to be signed: I want to put something into perspective.

Now for those of you who don't know. There was a fan who wanted their destiel art signed. JiB staff said that it wasn't allowed. The fan took the art to her Misha OP and had Misha hold it into the camera while she flipped the staff member in the room off. She then proceeded to post this on facebook. Now JiB staff is being attacke, accused of being homophobic, the whole nine yards. People said they would come to JiB and punch the staff. It went so far that, among other staff, Massimo had to say he is not sure whether he will work at JiB again as he is not feeling safe. Neither is his boyfriend, who works at JiB as well.

Let me tell you about my encounter with Massimo.

I too wanted something signed that wasn't allowed. I knew that it wasn't allowed to get photos signed, but for some reason I thought that had to do with copy rights and therefore my Photo OP with Rob from PurCon 2019 wouldn't fall under this rule. So I stood in line, only that photo with me, to get it signed. When I reached the front of the line, the lady who checks the things you get signed, looked at the picture and said that wasn't allowed. I asked why. (Not to throw a tantrum, I just genuinely didn't understand and I asked in a completely calm manner.) She said only OP's taken at JiB would be allowed. I was really sad in that moment, as I didn't have an alternative. Massimo, who was standing close by, came over, looked at the photo, and confirmed I couldn't get it signed. Mind you, both the lady and Massimo were kind and friendly. They must have seen how dissapointed I was, and heard it in my voice when I said I didn't bring anything else. Massimo suggested I get a different Rob Photo, there were some to buy. He took the time to talk to me. I said I would try to think of something. And without me bringing it up, he said: "When you have something, you can come right to the front of the line. You don't have to queue again. Tell them Massimo allowed it. I'm Massimo."

Up until this moment I had no idea I was talking to Massimo. You have to understand he is kind of JiB famous. Everyone seems to love him. Now I know why. He is a really nice guy.

I said: "Oh, you're Massimo. I've heard about you!"

He laughed shyly: "I hope only good things."

Which I confirmed. We were both laughing. I went and got something else I wanted signed. When I came back down, Massimo was nowhere to be seen. But I told the two staff members I passed what he had said. They let me through with smiles. I had my Rob auto, had a nice funny moment with Rob and a memorable moment despite not getting signed what I originally wanted.

It is one thing to question whether a rule regarding what you can get signed makes sense/is just. (But even here, I have to say you don't know what let to this desicion. You don't have all the informaition.)

But it is another thing to be nasty to the people who are there to make sure the rules are followed. It is by no means their fault. And they certainly weren't unfriendly or anything. On the contrary. They went out of their way to make sure I still had a great experience.

And I can assure you, no one of the JiB staff is homophobic. Massimo, who is actually gay, least of all.

At the end of JiB it is kind of tradition that the actors come out of the green room to walk through an isle of people. This year, when the actors where done, people called for Massimo. He was all shy about it, but he came out to the fans. Thats how well known and liked he is. You don't get asked to come out by people and celebrated if you are a homophobic a**.

And again, before someone reads this as me blaming Daniella, the organisator of JiB, for putting rules up: I am not!!! I don't know the process that led to the decisions regarding JiB rules. But I do know that as a leader you have to make the tough decisions that people might not understand because they don't have all the facts. I know because I have been in this position. So I assume that rules are based on experience and made with the best interest of everybody in mind.

To conclude: The whole JiB staff, from Daniella to the security guards, was nothing but friendly. I had so many pleasant encounters. They always had a smile ready for everyone.

They really don't deserve this hate!

#JiB 11 #arwenas jib 11 experiences #fandom critical

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apocalypticavolition · 7 months

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Let's Play Book of Hours! First Lessons

Tuesday, April 7th

Another day of reading. I had noticed several strange typos and spacings, which proved to be but the beginning of a second code in my journal. Many hours were spent unwinding it, but as I had to tend to my own well-being and clear away more awkward parts in the yard (the rain won't let up, but that's the Isles for you), my work was not completed.

Wednesday, April 8th

I rose with a headache, so I went back to visit Denzil today. I spoke to him about how the restoration of the library was my own battle against those forces which had caused us so much misery, and so he came with me to Hush House. The stairs above the Gatehouse were blocked with debris, but with the two of us we were able to clear a good deal of the stairs.

Thursday, April 9th

Another day of labor. How I regret my hubris in thinking that every day would be filled with useful entries. My strange dreams remain fully at bay, I hope that for the whole of the time I am here that will be the case, but we shall see.

Friday, April 10th

At last we have cleared the way. Too tired to keep writing.

Saturday, April 11th

I spent today finishing the cleaning and plastering, along with keeping notes on what was in the space. Though it was primarily the work space for Eva Dewulf, the last of the Brancrugs before the Curia began, I can see influences of her forebears as well. A bust of Walter Dewulf looked down from the desk and the astrolabe was favored by Thomas Dewulf (though I believe it to be older).

It is hardly the only astronomical object in this room. Wall art labeled "As above, so below", chairs with starry night fabric, even the mirrorscope has more of an otherwieldly feel to it. Though five books were kept in the desk, the true treasure at present was the Yewgall Ink - one of the Inks of Power, if a minor one. Its true utility is that it is difficult to erase, which is why I felt confident in using the desk to pen a response to the Trust. I felt flippant in my response. Perhaps I sent it too soon, but I do not want them breathing down my neck nor discovering my condition.

(A/N: For some reason I thought the first Illopoly book was Rose-flavored instead of Knock. Whoops.)

Sunday, April 12th

I went down to The Sweet Bones again today. I had hoped to mail my letter before remembering what day it was! Instead I found Morgan again. We laughed about the miserable weather and he agreed to come help me with the garden when the rain let up a little. I spent more time decoding my journal after a good luncheon. I think I'm making good progress, but my second code is strangely ambiguous. I will have to commit to an uncertain interpretation and hope for the best.

Monday, April 13th

Still raining, but it's finally letting up. I went and spoke to the postmistress and paid a penny to have my letter delivered. Once the Trust knows that the library is reopened, they will inform the rest of the world. I do not know who will come, but it likely won't be until the solstice. There are times to travel and times to stay.

I spent the rest of the day carousing at The Sweet Bones. Tuppence to get the thoughts flowing again is a small price to pay. Most people in my line of work don't think about mundane entertainments for some reason. I think cultists would spend a lot less time kidnapping random people and hunting for Hours in abandoned hospitals if they knew how to relax in a good, old-fashioned way.

Tuesday, April 14th

The rain having finally let up, Morgan came by today and we got to work clearing the garden. The cloister is immense, connecting the newer Watchman's Tower with the central body of the house. With seven years of good weather, the garden is far beyond our ability to bring into order so quickly.

Wednesday, April 15th

We cleared the garden. The columns hold the tower above us quite well, and the shaded growth is actually quite pleasing. I imagine it will be a lovely place to relax in summer, but it is merely a corridor at the moment. I'm sure that someone with a green thumb might be able to grow certain plants here, but I have no skill in such things at present.

Thursday, April 16th

At last my decoding pays off. My choice in the face of my journal's ambiguities was the correct one, which only strengthens my convictions. I found the core focuses of my work in my forgotten life. Much of my research had been dedicated to the Corrivalty, also called the Strife Imperishable, and it is through the understanding of the rules of this combat that the behavior of the Hours might be understood - and rewritten. It is one of the central precepts of Edge, one of the thirteen principles: all battle and struggle is an expression of the Strife Imperishable.

I spent the majority of today expanding my Tree of Wisdoms, fleshing out the first branch. What I learn is that all the Hours are defined by their opposition to other Hours, just as we are defined by the battles we choose. One could say that conflict creates these gods. The Sun-in-Splendor was destroyed by the Forge of Days and in my new history this must not be - what oppositions can take the place of this one tragedy?

Friday, April 17th

I spent the day at The Sweet Bones, offering to cover odd jobs. Most of them were focused on lesser acts of metalworking that Denzil has no time for at the moment; I learned something from watching him. Enough to get paid, at least.

Saturday, April 18th

Another day for scholarship. I took down one of the books in the Lodge, from the Baronial Period. I cannot imagine why most every book in this place is wrapped up in this color-coded parchment, nor why underneath they have blank covers. My predecessor had an unhealthy love of riddles, if my journal is to be believed (and the nature of my work is such that I have no choice but to treat every word as Gospel Truth). Why he thought this an appropriate use of his time, I do not know. Much of my day was spent reworking the cover into something identifiable on sight.

Thankfully, my hazy recollection of my dreams guided my path yet again. In the dreams I'd had of Hush House since the fire, I had struggled with the author's overuse of pronouns instead of proper names and had to navigate the book haphazardly. With the dream, I simply skipped to finding the pages that made it most clear: this is the Journal of Walter Dewulf, 3rd Baron Brancrug. He had been the grandson of Thomas, son of the disgraced Giles, who eloped with 'Pale Hafren'. The Dewulf line might have ended if the Seneschale Ernestine - by then over eighty - had not managed to reconcile Thomas with a dying Giles.

It may be some time before I can fully parse Walter's journal. What little I sampled of it suggests that it is primarily about that principle called Forge, the winter that warms and the spring that consumes. Though the restoration of my own soul here at Hush House has focused upon it, I have little else to recommend to me at present.

Sunday, April 19th

I spent some time catching up with friendly faces, but primarily focused on understanding another aspect of the results of my own journal. The nine winds have many secrets, and in my time I learned the central one: how to understand the winds when they speak. For now I am only listening to Sky Stories, but I hope that soon I might have a deeper understanding of what truths are kept in the heavens.

#let's play #book of hours

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theswordwizard · 1 year

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i keep seeing people complain about how "every website looks the same" and that its a sign of the end of creativity etc etc but it was always as a little throwaway line that people are supposed to go "oh yeah i've noticed that a lot of websites look similar!" and are supposed to connect that with the death of web 1 and how social media is bad and so on, but there are a LOT of reasons why many websites look the same. they can be kind of broken down into two main categories, though: the users, the way users find/use the websites.

Back in the 90s slash really early 2000s websites were still kind of gimmicky. Unless you were in a field that required the use of certain sites/databases/references/communications etc the average person wasn't online nearly as much as they were today. People also didn't have smartphones (which I will come back to later), so they were using a whole computer setup with a very specific resolution (low), and overall being on the internet was a very specific experience. But I think it's also important to note that it was more younger people using them for casual use. Web 1 was more "creative" than web 2 is deemed now because to get ON web 1, you had to have a baseline of tech and web knowledge. There were a lot less people on the internet, so you were catering to the other relatively few people that were willing to dive into computers/The World Wide Web.

Nowadays, and this is something I'm sure everyone has heard a much older person complain about at some point or another, everyone is pretty much required to use the internet. It's how you apply to jobs, school, get benefits, get healthcare, find pretty much any up-to-date information. It's actually a problem for many people that aren't able to reliably access the internet for one reason or another (major ones being houselessness, living in extremely rural areas, or just not being able to use a smartphone). When the demographic for your site changes from "people who are computer-savvy" to "ANYONE" you have to give up a lot of funny quirks. You are now catering to the lowest common denominator, which is a 70 year old who's grandchild is painstakingly trying to walk them through using a site, and hoping that this will somehow translate into them being able to use other sites, and they won't have to be doing this every other day.

Organizations, whether they are businesses or non-profit/government, have websites because they are convenient for people to be able to either get information, or because they want the user to do something (make an appointment, get a quote, buy something) - they want whoever is using their website to be able to find it as quickly and easily as possible. There is sort of a trickle-down in UI, from major companies that get a lot of users, or have the internal resources to do a lot of user testing and figure out what's easy for people to use, to then other markets who use them as reference or their guides on how to make things easily understandable for a wide range of users (Google's Material Design is often referenced). If someone knows how to use X popular site, you don't have to teach them how to use yours again if you follow their lead.

Also: predicable design and using certain web standards is a necessity for accessibility. Someone using a screen reader needs to be able to understand the information presented on a site, and having things in a predictable order, and in an order that gives the most relevant information first. This is why we are still seeing certain sites that cater to specific clientele often get a bit more creative. An artist's site doesn't necessarily need to cater to any user, they're catering usually to other artists. Now, if it's an illustrator or designer using a site as their portfolio, then they'll probably want to go back and use something that will make it easy for a reviewer going through hundreds of sites to be able to quickly view their art, without getting frustrated. Frustration from new users (as well as slow-loading sites) is one of the biggest reasons why people will ditch a new site or service. How many people have complained about how confusing something like Mastodon is to get started?

From the other direction, there is the system that surrounds the website. We've all seen complaints about how so many websites have a lot of word-salad, and it's because of SEO - Search Engine Optimization. Basically, Google ranks websites to put in search results by A) how well the actual content of the site matches the literal search, and B) what it thinks that your search is actually looking for. There are a lot of things that go into SEO and there are entire markets built around it because of how valuable ranking high with Google is - it doesn't matter how excellent your website is if people never are able to see it. Legitimate websites also have to compete with those scam sites that just dump in as much nonsense as possible to get clicks, and thus make money off ad revenue. It's a constant pain in the ass battle and Google is constantly changing how its rankings work because of the scam sites. This effects the buttons, links, how headers/subheaders/body text is used. Google wants certain hierarchies of information, and rewards sites that have them.

But the biggest reason why so many websites look a certain way is because of responsiveness. Basically as of like 2019 over 50% of visitors to a given website were usually on a mobile device. This could be any kind of resolution, depending on the type of phone or tablet. Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it is to design a website to be responsive. You need to organize all the information in very specific ways and use flexboxes or way too many media queries to have text/images/etc set up so it transitions cleanly to different widths. The more complex the website is, the more difficult it is to do this. Simple transitions better and is less likely to break and glitch when presented in unexpected ways.

The proliferation of mobile is also the reason for a lot of other "design modernizations" that people get pissed about. Biggest example off the top of my head is the Google logo redesigns. I remember being in school everyone was complaining and joking about it. But there was a very good reason for it. Using simpler shapes for vector images makes the image load faster, and overall use less data. The new logo is only 305 bytes, while its old logo was 14,000 bytes. That is an enormous difference, especially when taking into consideration if someone on their phone has low bandwidth and/or needs to quickly search something. Again, this trickles down to other sites and other companies that want their sites to perform quickly on all platforms for all users with any level of internet connection.

Obviously there are a lot of issues with the way that the internet is set up but a lot of people miss the point as to not only why so many sites are designed the way they are, but also how we benefit every day from it.

#website design #internet #and dont even get me started on social media specifically #'everything looks like a squarespace site' yeah because the layout works. sorry #squarespace ripped that layout off a general best practices guide #i can go on all day on the topic #varcahs speaks

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luminull · 1 year

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[Image ID: Two images, identical other than the fact that one is done in greyscale, while the other is in rainbow colors on the same grey background. It depicts a script that meanders about the canvas, flow guided by simplistic messy line drawings that reflect the text. The images start with a person and their speechbubble within a thoughtbubble, transitioning through comicbook-like pages, a spotlight, a river of blank papers, and a large dividing vertical pillar through the center of the image. Atop that pillar is the same person's silhouette, tiny and calling out, before the flow continues to an hourglass, a brain, a battery, and a collection of various shapes surrounded by the word "AND" repeatedly. At the end are two more silhouettes: the first is standing and looking upward at a large nearby "AND", with a capital "I" to their right, almost like a measuring marker; the second silhouette is sitting hunched over their knees, another smaller "I" to their left, and positioned in a similar way as to imply further-diminished measurement. /. End ID]

Transcript:

I've always WANTED to make COMICS But I kept Looking [Hoping] [Stalling] [Waiting] FOR SOMETHING to justify TRYING ... and failing... A LOT to make things WORK Because it's all so... MASSIVELY DAUNTING It takes a lot of TIME AND FOCUS AND ENERGY to figure out... [begin 12 "AND"s filling the space] Panel SIZE Story Drafting Polish Negative SPACE ... FLOW... SHAPE AND I... I

(Very long and numerous) thoughts under the cut!

I made this almost a year ago now, and I kept telling myself I would clean it up and post it one day I might still clean it up eventually, but I'm done waiting to post it

I can't begin to describe how proud I am of this, I keep reading it over and over and finding little surprises I left for myself:

The way the orange arrow makes a nice circle with the bottom lump of the thought cloud The way the tail circles of the thought bubble curve to make an arc to that circle with "COMICS" bridging the gap, moving into an image of a comic being drawn

The way the blank papers not only represent the paper I used to burn through, but when colored in all those shades of green, they remind me of the money that's gone into all of the projects I've ever attempted The way it starts with a trickle and quickly becomes chaotic, costing more and more

The way "MASSIVELY DAUNTING" lists to the side, threatening to fall over The way it's pushed from the side of Everything Art Requires towards the flow of "money", and looks about ready to squash "TRYING" and "WORK" The way it somehow furthers yet intensely interrupts the flow of everything

The way that the river of papers has three potential origin points: The taper in the middle of the arrangement under "TRYING", the drafts and attempts that happened The comic panels from the left, the theoretical comics I would have made, flowing through "TRYING" The pages and the panels from the right side of the canvas- and arguably the battery of "ENERGY" driving the flow- pushing through the practical aspects and hitting the wall of "MASSIVELY DAUNTING" before returning in a small trickle that has to pick itself back up

The way the first comic pages seem like an extension of the speechbubble, or new speechbubbles ordering themselves like stacked pages The way the comic panels on the orange page match the illuminating yellow of the spotlight, match the phrase "But I kept Looking" and getting so close to "FOR SOMETHING to justify TRYING" The way "... and failing" is green as the pages/money

They way I personally identify with cool colors, yet in all of this, the character that represents me is painted in pinks and struggling The way the "I"s look like they're measurements, with the taller one almost seeming to prop up some of the "AND"s while the smaller one seems to be weighed down heavily by the "..." above it

The way "Polish" seems to absolutely dominate the space as just a single word, which is fitting since it's probably the step I get hung up on the most The way all the things that go into a comic seem all over the place, both flowing and a disjointed jumble

Augh there's just always more to find, and I'm the one who made it!

As for the process behind all this, it was actually totally freeform: I sat down with the urge to make a comic, or at least vent about making comics, and I just... Started drawing The flow of the picture really follows what got made in what order- and in fact, I originally was just going to leave it as a single chunk once I wrote "WORK"

But it felt unfinished, so I added a little more: I added "Because it's all so..." And I sat on it for a bit, before deciding on "MASSIVELY DAUNTING" It filled up the space well enough, and it was accurate, but... Again, I had to figure out What Else I needed to add

I decided I was going to do a vertical arrangement- which, you may notice, didn't pan out Everything after the Leaning Tower Of Doubt was supposed to be made off to the side where I could see it when my canvas was zoomed to fit my screen, but in a way where I could easily move it into place later where it was supposed to go

And then I got attached to the horizontal spread Whoops It worked well on so many levels, so I couldn't really bring myself to rearrange it afterwards But you might notice that the left side is very rounded and full of stuff flinging off to fill space, and the right side just has a relatively flat wall

That's right, I decided I was going to do a third section: this one was going to be the Optimistic Conclusion, the cool nifty message for myself and others that if you give things a go anyways, you can succeed eventually, or maybe learn something in the process- I dunno I had ambition not thoughts

Clearly, I Ran Out Of Time, Focus, And Energy

So it's "finished" on a rather dreary note, that side shut down above a retreating shutdown But it still brings me a lot of pride, even though it's messy and unfinished It's redefined my standards when it comes to making comics- or "comics", depending on your own definition

And not only that, but it looks an awful lot like how my thoughts feel, especially with color That's something I have always longed to be able to show

#sketchdump #comic #rambles #has id

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