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owliellder · 8 months

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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cheesecake801 · 2 months

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IT IS TIME ! It is finally time to show you my Valentine's day artpiece !! (Wdym it was a month ago ? Nonsense ! I totally did NOT take a month to finish this)

For those who don't know, this is Volkner, I just HAD to draw him for Valentines day haha ! Have more nice sketches (and me chatting a little) below cut !

First lemme show you those self indulgent Valentine's day sketches

It's fun thinking Volkner would receive chocolate from random peeps (not surprising, boy slays in pink !) but the true canon stuff in my head would definitely be Volkner staying home or at the gym tinkering with machines and stuff, completely forgetting about Valentine's day haha !

(gosh I really treated myself with this one alslskd, also yes I'm that ghost leaving the grave)

I sketched this Pachirisu in a magma session with friends, I think it would follow Volkner around for some reason, much to Volkner's delight, this Pachirisu is a real cutie !

Also I reached 100 followers today !! Thank you everyone, I hope you'll continue enjoying my art ✨️You know so far I always posted submas related stuff but.......THIS GUY ! This guy has been living rent free in my head for more than 2 months you have no idea. He's not nearly as popular as submas around here so I've been content starved lately, it's hard finding art of him and his best bud Flint ! So I got no choice but to make my own food !! It is only the beginning of the Volkner propaganda hehe ! I hope you'll enjoy the Volkner stuff I'll post from now on !

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gracexthoughts · 12 days

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of violent delights chap 18

beginning of the end

Euphemia’s POV

15 june 1996

Mattheo,

Hi, how’s your summer going? I’ve been thinking about you

20 june 1996

Matt,

I hope you are well.

5 july 1996

Mattheo,

Would you call me needy if I asked what the coffee cup and cigarette meant?

16 july 1996

Mattheo,

I figured you’d have written at least once. If you’re still concerned about what you said that night, you shouldn’t be. I don’t care about any of that shit, Matt. And I can’t just pretend none of it happened and I don't want to pretend.

25 july 1996

Was one night all you wanted all along? Just another notch on your belt?

17 august 1996

I scan the shelves in front of me as I try to decide what to make for dinner tonight. There’s a small corner shop at the end of the block Harry and I live on where I do most of our shopping. I sigh, picking ingredients out for some pasta and move towards the check out queue, pulling my muggle money out as I wait in the long queue. The radio plays softly through the store and my mind drifts to Mattheo Riddle, as it often does when I allow my mind to wander for more than a minute. When I left Hogwarts, three months ago, I had hoped to hear from Mattheo but I’ve gotten nothing. Not a single letter, note, anything all summer and I can’t help the bitterness that’s been creeping into my heart over the summer.

I tell myself I shouldn’t be surprised; that Mattheo Riddle, the infamous Slytherin Casanova, has never slept with the same girl twice and I was never going to be any different. But we were different, or at least I thought we were. Maybe that was naive of me to assume. Maybe Fred and George were right.

Mattheo’s POV

10 june 1996

Mia,

Have you settled into your new apartment yet? I hope it’s everything you hoped it would be. You deserve to be happy.

19 june 1998

Mia,

Saw in the prophet that Sirius Black was spotted in a muggle town. It wasn’t near you, was it? I hope you are safe…

2 july 1996

Mia,

I dreamt about you last night.

13 july 1996

Mia,

How have you invaded every tiny part of my brain? It's maddening, princess, really. I think I’m going mad.

30 july 1996

Mia,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. I’m not great with words, especially when it involves emotions. The amount of letters I’ve started and thrown out is ridiculous. I miss you. Is that crazy? I can’t remember the last time I missed anyone. Although you’re not just anyone are you?

14 august 1996

I set my quill down with a sigh, resisting the urge to rub my eyes with my ink stained hands as I stare down at the finished sketch; Euphemia Potter looks back up at me from the page, a mischievous smile on her lips. My sketchbook is as filled with her as my head is. All my hand has produced this summer is her. Her face partially covered by her hair as it blows in the wind, her smoking a cigarette in the Astronomy Tower, her in class listening studiously to a lecture, the way her face lights up when she smiles, the way she looked after we kissed, the way she looked under me and sleeping the next morning. Her face is all I see when I close my eyes and with every page I fill with her I hope it takes her out of my head but it doesn’t. It's just her all the time and I think it will drive me insane.

24 august 1996

Draco, Elladora and I follow behind the adults as we make our way up the seemingly endless amount of stairs of the Quidditch World Cup Stadium. Mr. Malfoy managed to get us all personally invited to watch the match from the Minister’s box at the very top of the stadium, which Draco has been bragging about relentlessly. Finally we reach the top box, my legs infinitely thankful, and as I step around Ella the sight makes my heart skip a beat. Sitting in the front row of the box is nearly an entire row of redheads but the only one I care about is Mia. Her long red hair is pulled up into a ponytail and she’s decked out in green for the Irish. She chats amicably with the Weasley sitting next to her who I remember slightly from my first year at Hogwarts but can’t recall his name and my attention is pulled from her as Mr. Malfoy greets the Minister of Magic.

“I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?” Mr. Malfoy says, pushing Draco forward to greet the Minister. “And this is our ward, Elladora. She’s Narcissa’s niece.”

“How do you do? How do you do?” Fudge greets them, smiling and bowing.

“And this is Medusa, my sister, and her son, Mattheo,” Mr. Malfoy adds, gesturing down to my mother and me.

“Ah, yes of course. How do you do?” I see the realization in Fudge’s eyes of what Mr. Malfoy left out-- our surname-- as he shakes my hand and bows politely to my mother.

At my name, however, Mia turns around and our eyes lock for a moment and I feel like the world has been upside down for the last three months and it's right side up again. “Hey princess,” I mouth to her but all she does is smile politely and turn back around. My jaw clenches as I watch her laugh at something one of the Weasley Twins says and she continues to face forward, not looking my way.

“Seems like the princess moved on,” Ella mutters in my ear, clearly pleased.

“Shut up,” I glare at her out of the corner of my eye, moving to sit in my seat. Mr. Malfoy talks a few moments longer, clear distaste in his expression that the Weasleys managed seats in the Minister’s box and that they brought Granger; he always has been a stuck up git, although the rest of our group isn’t much better.

I spend much of the match distracted by Mia, everytime she cheered and or reacted to the match, my gut twisted horribly anytime she touches or laughs or looks at anyone who isn’t me. And it isn't until the very end, when she stands up to leave once the match has ended, do her green eyes land on me again. We share a brief glance but too soon her eyes leave mine and I’m left feeling lost again. Does she regret what happened? I stew in my own bitter air as we follow the crowd down the endless stairs and back onto solid ground.

“Who was that lovely girl?” My mother whispers to me as we begin the walk back to our campsite.

“Who?” I ask innocently, watching where I’m stepping as we traipse through the dark.

“The one you couldn’t take your eyes off of. You barely watched the match, darling,” Mum pries further.

“I watched the match,” I grumble.

“Hm, so who is she?”

“Mia… Mia Potter,” I relent finally, avoiding my mother’s gaze. Most people would be surprised that she doesn’t know but, being a Riddle is still very taboo in this world, even more so for my mother than me, so Mum doesn’t venture outside much except her small social circle.

“Oh, well. With her hair I assumed she was a Weasley but I guess her mother did have red hair as well,” my mother says casually and I turn my head to look at her.

“You knew the Potters?” I ask.

“Of course, we overlapped a few years at Hogwarts as well, her parents and I. And the Potters were a pureblood family before James married Lily. My father worked with Fleamont at the Ministry. Mia, you called her? Well Fleamont would have been her grandfather. Do you like her?” my mother says easily, as if I didn’t just admit to being close with one of the two people responsible for her husband’s death. I look at her with raised eyebrows and she laughs slightly at me. “I’m not your father, dear. While I may prefer you to find a nice pureblood girl to settle down with eventually, I won’t force you into anything. You’ve never done anything unless it was what you wanted.”

“Woah, who said anything about settling down?” I balk, my feet stop walking of their own volition but my mother just laughs, turning to face me.

“Mothers think about that kind of stuff. Besides, you’ve never told me about any other girl before so I assume this Mia is special,” she says, tilting her head at me.

“She’s too good for me…She deserves someone better than me,” I say after a long moment, looking down at my shoes.

“Then be better,” my mother says softly, reaching out to cup my chin and lift my head so I’m looking at her dark gray eyes. My mum and I look nothing alike; she has the white hair and gray eyes of a Malfoy, but I inherited my father’s looks: his dark hair and dark eyes and tainted soul. “If you really care for her, then work to deserve her, if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t think it's a bad idea? A Riddle and a Potter?” I ask slowly, searching my mum’s eyes.

“I don’t know if it is or not,” she admits, releasing my chin, “but I do know that love is stronger than all other kinds of magic.” She smiles at me softly, patting my cheek before nodding towards where the Malfoys and Ella are still walking ahead of us. “Let’s go and tomorrow, you can tell me all about her.”

Euphemia’s POV

“There’s no one like Krum!” Ron exclaims, standing up on a chair so he’s taller while the Twins dance around him clad in their green gear. “He’s like a bird the way he rides the wind! He’s not just an athlete. He’s an artist!”

“I think you’re in love, Ron!” Ginny calls, laughing next to me on the couch in our bigger-on-the-inside-tent along with Hermione on the other side of Ginny.

“Victor, I love you! Victor I doooo!” The twins start singing and Harry, Ginny and I join in, “When we’re apart my heart beats only for YOUUUU!” Ginny, Hermione and I fall to bits laughing as the Twins and Ron start wrestling and Harry backs up several feet to avoid being swung at. Although he accidentally falls straight into Charlie’s lap, sending us all into further hysterics. I’m grateful for my friends, or family as they often feel like. Seeing Mattheo rattled me more than I thought it would after three months of not hearing from him. Even with all the anger at his silence, seeing him again made me feel like I’d been lost all summer and finally found my way back home.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Mr. Weasley yells at the boys, running back into the tent as screaming echoes from outside.

“Sounds like the Irish are having a party,” Bill chuckles, looking towards the entrance of the tent.

“It’s not the Irish, we need to leave!” Mr. Weasley says urgently.

“What? Why?” I ask, standing along with everyone else. Mr. Weasley doesn’t respond, just begins pushing us all out of the tent. As we stumble outside, heat of fires hits us as tents burn not a few rows behind us, people running at top speed all around us, and at the center of all the chaos, is a crowd of wizards with hooded cloaks and skull masks obscuring their features, and above them are four floating people struggling against invisible bonds, the wizards under them holding their wands straight up, controlling the figures above like some sick marionette show. Everything is chaos and fire and screaming. As a green light flashes in front of the crowd, I recognize the faces of the Muggle groundskeeper who we had paid for our tent spot and I assume the rest is his family. The sight makes me sick.

“Get to the woods, hide and I’ll find you later! And stick together! Bill, Charlie, Percy, you’re with me! Mia, Fred, George, everyone else is your responsibility. Go! RUN!” Mr. Weasley shouts over the screams before the four older Weasley’s run toward the masked crowd.

“C’mon! We gotta go!” I yell to the others, grabbing Harry’s hand, and Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and I all begin sprinting with the rest of the crowd towards the woods. Fred, George and I with our wands in hand, just in case, as we push through the crowd which is getting tighter and tighter. My hand slips away from Harry’s and I call out to him, but his voice is still behind me so I keep moving.

After what seems like forever, we stumble into the tree line, panting and sweaty. I trip on a tree branch and fall straight into George who manages to catch me and help me stand back upright. I turn and see Fred, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. “Where’s Harry?” I ask the two urgently. They look around, fear growing on their faces as they look around. “Harry!” I yell, panic taking over my body.

“Mia, I’m sure he’s fine, we’ll find-” Fred starts but I don’t stick around to listen as I take off back towards the campsite at top speeds and I run back through the forest and crowds of people.

“Harry!” I shout over and over, searching everywhere for my brother, as tents burn and smolder around me, but I don’t see the crowd of masked wizards anymore. As I near where our own campsite had been, I start panicking even further. I stop and look around me, nothing but smoldering and smoking tents as far as I can see. “Harry!!” I shout, loudly as possible, tears threatening to obscure my vision.

“Mia?” I suddenly hear and I whip around to see Harry emerge from behind a tent. I gasp and we run to each other, colliding roughly. I grab at his face and shoulders and arms frantically checking for burns or blood.

“Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you follow us?”

“I don’t know, I got separated and fell down and got knocked out I think, I don’t-” Harry starts explaining but his eyes suddenly land on something over my shoulder and I turn to see a man kicking over something laying in the embers before looking up at the sky and raising his wand. I push Harry slightly behind a tent and follow suit, looking through a burned hole to watch the man. He mutters something I don’t quite catch and green shoots out of his wand and into the sky. A skull and snake, seemingly made out of green light, appears in the sky and Harry groans beside me, his hand shooting up to touch his lighting bolt scar. I watch the sky, illuminated green by the Dark Mark; something I’ve only ever read about and very much hoped I’d never see in person and fear grips me. Movement pulls my eyes away and I look back through the hole in the burned tent to see the man who cast the Mark coming straight for us.

“Harry, I need you to run,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off the man.

“What?” he groans, his voice sounding pained.

“Go, run into the woods and find the others. I’ll be right behind you,” I whisper frantically and I watch as the man raises his wand in our direction. “Protego!” I shout, casting a shield charm as a curse shoots from the man’s wand. “GO!” I yell to my brother but he doesn’t move, just pulls out his own wand and casts Explelliarmus over the tent, but the man deflects it. I stand and shoot another curse over the tent. The man stumbles back slightly as it hits him, causing his wand arm to turn numb and he watches me carefully before turning and running in the other direction.

I drop back down to my knees and cradle my brother’s face in my hands. “Are you okay? Does your scar hurt?” But before he can answer, voices echo over the landscape and there’s a blinding series of flashes over Harry’s and my heads.

“Stop! Stop!” Calls Mr. Weasley, running towards us quickly, Charlie in his wake. “Harry, Mia, what are you doing here? Are you alright?”

“Which of you conjured it?!” A cold voice inquires and Mr. Crouch pushes his way past Mr. Weasley and points his wand at Harry and I. “Which of you did it? Do not lie!”

“You think we did this?” I cry indignantly.

“You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!” Crouch responds.

“This is the Potters! I don’t think they’re like-” Charlie scoffs but Mr. Weasley raises a hand to cut him off.

“They’re just kids, Barty!” Mr. Weasley tries reasoning with the man. “Where did the Mark come from, Mia?”

“A man,” I shrug, explaining how I found Harry and saw the man and everything that happened before they showed up.

“What did he look like?” One of the other Ministry officials asks.

“I didn’t see his face, it's too dark,” I say helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

✦

2 september 1996

I’ve had nightmares about the Dark Mark nearly every night since the World Cup mixing in with the usual visions I’ve grown used to over the years. Last night was a particularly nasty one but what worries me more than anything, is Harry’s scar hurting him. He confessed the morning after the World Cup that he'd woken up from a dream about Voldemort a few nights previous and had woken up with the pain in his forehead.

Our curse scars have always baffled me. Our matching lighting bolt looking scars are so strange they confound even Dumbledore. At the end of Harry’s first year, and his run in with Voldemort and Professor Quirell, we explained to the Headmaster that Harry’s scar had been paining him for weeks but mine has never hurt at all. Dumbledore didn’t have an explanation and since then, Harry’s scar has only ever hurt when near Voldemort, or his ghost, so the return of the pains is a terrifying idea. Remus, who I wrote to the next morning, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all say not to worry, that Harry and I are safe and protected but the fear still hides in the back of my mind.

I sigh, shouldering my bag as I push my way out of the library where I spent my afternoon free period, a perk of fewer N.E.W.T. level classes. The sun shines through the windows, lighting up the corridor with warm golden light. Even with all the terrifying things, being back at Hogwarts is lovely. Dumbledore announced at the Welcome Feast last night that two international schools will be joining us around Halloween for something called the TriWizard Tournament which has sent the whole school into an excited frenzy.

I turn the corner of the hall, making my way back to Gryffindor Tower, but I run right into someone standing right behind the turn. “Oof, I’m sorry!” I exclaim, looking up from a green Slytherin tie at my eye level to the deep warm brown eyes of Mattheo Riddle and my heart skips a beat. I forgot how good he looks in his uniform, bloody hell. Mattheo stands there in all his glory, dark curls perfectly tousled, his tie loose around his neck and his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, veins standing out on the back of his hands that I can still feel on my waist if I think hard enough.

“Careful, Princess,” he smirks easily, like no time has passed since the last time we spoke.

“Sorry,” I mutter, dropping his gaze and kneeling to gather the textbook I dropped but Mattheo beats me too and holds it out of my reach, that stupid cocky smile that I like so much on that stupidly perfect face. “Can I have my book, please?”

“Not until you tell me why you’re avoiding me,” he says, still holding the book out of my reach.

“I-I’m just busy,” I stutter.

“Mia, c’mon, it’s the start of the year. How busy can you be? You barely acknowledged me at the World Cup and you brushed me off on the train yesterday and you can barely even look at me right now. What’s going on? Is it what happened after the World Cup? Do you think I had something to do with that?” He asks, hurt shining in his eyes and I blink, realizing that no it did not occur to me for a moment to suspect him.

“What? No, I- Should I? Did you?” I ask, searching his eyes as he sighs, dropping his arm to his side, the textbook smacking against his leg.

“No! Not at all! You know I hate that kind of shit-”

“Well then why did you bring it up?” I ask, getting frustrated, trying to snatch my textbook from his hands but he pulls it back again.

“Because it's the only reason I can think of that would make you avoid me,” Mattheo says, turning to pin me against the wall causing memories of him pressing me against my dorm room door. “So if it’s not that then what is it?”

“Maybe the fact that we slept together and you snuck out in the middle of the night and then I didn’t hear from you all summer!” I finally snap and his face falls as my words hit him.

“Oh, Mia-”

“If all you wanted was one night you could’ve just said! Not string me along all term and make me feel like an id-” I’m cut off as Mattheo presses a kiss to my lips and effectively melting all the bitterness and anger away, infuriatingly quickly. “You can’t just kiss… me and expect… everything to be okay… again,” I say in between his kisses.

“I’m sorry,” he says eventually, reaching up to brush a piece of my hair behind my ear. I snuck out because I didn’t want to get caught coming out of your room and I didn’t want to wake you up so early. I didn’t want any rumors to get around before we had a chance to talk and I tried to write, I did, but I’m shit at it really. Words aren’t my thing but I tried and I thought about you all the time. Shit, I filled an entire sketchbook with you but I’m-”

“What?” I breathe out in bewilderment at his confession. He looks at me sheepishly, which is something I never thought I’d say about Mattheo Riddle.

“Well I’m shit at words but I can draw, you know that, and pretty much all I drew this summer was you,” he says, his cheeks tinting slightly pink.

“Can I see it?” I ask, reaching out to place my palm on his chest. Mattheo smiles slightly and nods.

“Anything for you, princess. Does that mean you forgive me?”

“If you give me my book back,” I respond with a smirk.

“Hm, how about this?” He says, mischievously, taking a step back. “I’ll give you your book back, if you let me walk you to wherever you’re going.”

“You’re an idiot,” I laugh and shake my head as I take a step forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. I pull away and he has the biggest grin on his face.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, fine whatever,” I laugh.

“After you, Princess,” Mattheo gestures his arm out in an exaggerated move and I laugh, feeling significantly better than 15 minutes ago.

a/n; welcome to Goblet of Fire year!!I changed the Trace rules a little btw so basically after you turn 18/finish OWLs, you are allowed to practice magic at home but the Trace stays on you so the Ministry can ensure responsibility (kind of like the restrictions when you first get your driver’s license in the US) and then once you graduate Hogwarts at 20, the trace is lifted fully.

also ive always imagined harry and mia’s scars to look like actual bolts of lighting or the kinds of scars people get who have actually been struck by lightning and not like the scar in the movies. Idk ive just always thought that was a cooler concept

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @stxrszurzolo o @abaker74

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #matteo riddle #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #wizarding world #hogwarts houses #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagines

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enigmatist17 · 8 months

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Just thinking about Fox tonight, I've had a shitty day and have downed too many depresso expresso's, and he's my comfort blorbo I guess?

with the wing!au stuff I've written about before (Im sorry I can't find my part 2), his wings don't really gain a color for a long time. They're the light grey that they start out with, and it's not until he settles into his role as a protector for his brothers, rather than Palps and the shitty senators, they turn a beautiful ruby red.

-> he is very proud of the color that's his to call his own, and if you hurt one of his men, the sight of them became a warning that harm was coming your way

boy has depression

like really bad

likes to sketch things like trees/animals/anything that isn't the cold metal of Coruscant

sometimes paints as well, but gives his men all the nicest things he can find so doesn't get much of a chance

Wolffe drags him kicking and screaming to his Jetti, and Plo barely starts using the Force to calm Fox before the commander conks out against his vod. It's not a proper treatment (and Plo will look into it), but whenever the 104th is in town, Fox is found curled up beside Wolffe while Plo uses the Force to help the poor Corrie commander a break from reality

Speaking of, the only person more protective than Fox is Wolffe, who nearly bites Palps' head off when he tries to interrupt a rare nap that Fox was taking after a long shift

---> finding out he's a Sith (because he never lives as long as I make it that way) is not surprising, and once everything has died down, Fox and his men just kind of disappear onto The Triumphant for a solid month

Fox likes collecting colorful beads, and if he's particularly stressed, will lose himself in a sensory loop just running his fingers through them over and over until he remembers his job again (much to his dismay)

will also sometimes stare into space if he's luck enough to be seated near a window, and if you try and talk to him about anything not vital, it'll go in one ear and out the other

I just like my funky blorbo, and I wish to give him as many colorful beads as he desires

#personal #star wars #clone wars #the clone wars #commander fox #corrie guard #he's my depression buddy :')

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dino-fart · 1 year

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The Bargain | Chapter 1: Routine

Pairing: Namor x Female Reader

Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance

Summary: To say you had a complicated relationship history was an understatement. Your ex was well...Not of this world? Yet he seemed to always find his way to you. One day he shows up with his new girlfriend asking for your help. You promise to assist if he never shows his face again. What is it he needs you for? And what are you all going to find when deep diving into the Atlantic Ocean?

I love you but my kingdom needs me...

I’m sorry...I choose...

No! Stop! I’ve made my decision!

Leave her to die!

You shot up from the bed and panted heavily. You wiped the sweat off of your head and reached over for your phone.

3:00 am...

You sighed and set your phone down. You got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. Your eyes looked up at the reflection of you. Your hair was a mess, the bags under your eyes, and sweat dripped from your head. You looked sick. You turned on the cold water and washed your face.

The person that looked back at you in the mirror wasn’t the person you knew a few months ago. Everything started when you met him...You rubbed your eyes and went back to bed, maybe you could fall back asleep? Or maybe you were just kidding yourself and you would lie awake with night terrors as you have been.

After an hour of lying there, you got up and slipped on a jacket over your tank top and changed from shorts to sweatpants. You walked into your home library and sat at the desk, opening your laptop and continuing your research. The sun’s rays shined through the curtains and you grumbled. You picked your head up from the laptop keyboard and grabbed your phone.

8:00 am...

Time to get up and go. Well, at least you were able to go back to sleep, even if it was for a little bit. You went to your bedroom and put on a collared long-sleeved blue blouse, black slacks, and black ballet flats. You tied your hair in a bun and grabbed your purse. Being the owner of a museum your schedule was flexible.

This means you would find yourself in your therapy appointments every morning at 9:00 am sharp. You sat on the armchair across from your therapist there with your legs crossed and impatiently tapping your foot on the ground.

“Did you want to talk today?” Your therapist asked.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Your night terrors...Are they getting better? Are you able to sleep without falling asleep at the laptop?”

“Nope.”

“I want...Delve into what happened to you...What started all this? You told me when we first met that your ex tried to drown you?”

“His side piece did.”

“Right, but he was there, and...Didn’t help you?”

“Yeah...”

“That must’ve been horrible. I can understand your fear of water.”

“I’m not afraid of water,” You quickly snapped at them, “I’m afraid of riptides...”

Your therapist was quiet and observed your body language. “You know it’s okay to talk about it here. That’s why I’m here right? It’s what you pay me for. Why see a therapist if you don’t want to talk?” They asked gently.

“I didn’t want to see one. My friend forced me to.” You corrected.

“Your friend?”

“...My aunt.”

Your therapist nodded and closed their book. They gave you a sympathetic smile, a type of smile you hated. It was a smile you constantly got whenever your story was shared.

“Don’t pity me...I made a stupid mistake that nearly got me killed.” You scoffed.

“Everyone makes mistakes. When you’re in love, you make all kinds of mistakes. Sometimes you don’t realize it until you’ve left the person.”

“Yeah well, guess I was stupidly in love.”

“...Have you picked up a hobby? Besides spelunking in caves?” Your therapist said changing subjects.

“I started sketching...It’s just been landscapes to help me memorize when I go research.” You shrugged.

“Good, that’s good! Maybe next session you can show me?”

“Maybe.” You said cautiously.

“Well that’s our time, see you tomorrow?” Your therapist stood up and offered their hand to you.

You stood up and shook it, “Guess so.” You were escorted out of the office and headed back to your museum.

The bustling city of Madison, Wisconsin was constantly backed up with traffic. You finally made it and walked into the museum. You made a beeline to your office upstairs and shut the door.

A knock on the door made you jump and you turned to open it. “Hey boss, you forgot to say hello!” The older security guard smiled.

You gave him a small smile and nodded, “I did, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay boss, I know you’re getting back into the swing of things after your travels. Take it easy okay?” He smiled and gave you a goodbye wave.

You waved goodbye and watched your door shut, “Unfortunately I don’t know what that means.” You sighed and walked over to your desk and began your work.

Night came and you were now downstairs at the Mayan exhibit. The museum was closed and everyone left. You sat on a stool over the coin display case, polishing the coins and checking for any scratches. You adjusted your eyeglasses when you examined them. You weren’t worried about authenticity, you were the ones that uncovered them after all.

You heard a knock on the door but ignored it, some teenagers were probably playing a trick, or someone scoping the place out to steal. You heard the knocking again and put your wireless earbuds in and turned on some music to block out the knocking. You continued to polish the coins and fixed the description on the name plates. You got to the final coin and polished it as you did with the others. The coin shined like new and you titled it away from you slightly. You froze when you saw the reflection of the coin of a man. You dropped the coin and looked up immediately.

“Hello, my friend!” The man said cheerfully.

Author’s Note: So I only tagged the reblogs and replies because there are SOOO many of you who liked the summary and preview uwu, so continuing on you can either reblog or reply to be added or just keep an eye out for the fic under the ‘Namor x Reader’ tag! Thank you all for the support and love!

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

Tagging: @clea-strange-is-the-way, @bontensbabygirl, @deputy-videogamer, @anthonyedwinstark, @fangirlingbookworm1, @theyluvremi, @bbylime, @redcrayonsforwanda, @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame, @missbeverlyhills, @bluskyy30, @sonadowloverf-blog, @spctorstrnge, @justanotherfanhere, @britty443, @lilithskywalker, @tzurue, @lego0city123, @livingdeadgirl7, @bl6o6dy, @didneyworld13, @bookfrog247, @thicc101q

#namor x reader #namor x you

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lazar-codes · 2 months

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14/02/2024 || Day 12 (dop)

TLDR:

🔸 practised ASL fingerselling

🔸 went to ASL class

🔸 worked on button functionality for Frontend Mentor project

🔸 started planning new illustration

🔸 read current book

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out that when I pick up extra shifts at work, I don't do anything productive when I get home -- including program. I feel like I haven't done any consistent programming since November, tbh. Hopefully I can find it in me to get back on it, but I'm definitely feeling the programming burnout.

Work

ASL class - I just want to say that today we learned about conjunctions after it was introduced to us 2 weeks ago, and dear lord will I need to sit down and practice it a bunch. I'm excited though!

Frontend Mentor - I decided that I want to wrap this project up ASAP, so of course I did only the minimum today. I got the button functionality all working, where they'll appear and disappear at appropriate times. The next thing that I'll do tmr will be to dynamically fill out the information required in the Summary step, which is depending on the user's selections throughout the form.

Art

Much like with programming, I've been putting off sketching, but this time only for the past 2 weeks. I swear, I was at a sketching high in January, where I filled a page almost every day. Especially at the end of January, because I had finished re-playing The Last of Us Part 2 and was a sketching machine filled with inspiration. But then it disappeared once I made a finished digital illustration of one of my fanart ideas. So, to combat the stagnation I feel, I did the unspeakable and picked up a pen and went in directly without pencil lines. Apparently I can't go 2 months without using pen, despite swearing it off since I used it for nearly 4 years straight. And what do you know? I had fun sketching today. I gotta say though, the best thing about drawing in pen is that the sketches really pop out of the page because they're so bold.

Also, I spent last night looking for some graphic novels I might be interested in, but a lot of ones aimed at adults have art styles and don't really vibe with me, so I started looking at kids' graphic novels and found one whose style I fell in love with! I know nothing about the plot, but I'm really hoping that the art itself can inspire me! Plus, it's a nice little Valentine's Day present to myself.

#studyblr #codeblr #100 days of code #programming #100 days of productivity #coding #lazar blogs

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dreadnotau · 7 months

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Its been a decent couple of months of productive work, so it's sadly time for a schedule change. I'll be posting pages two weeks apart again. Details provided below if you're curious as to why.

In all honesty there's no big dramatic reason this time around. I've just slowly lost drive to work on Dread Not as often and as thoroughly as I used to be able to. As I said in one of my previous posts (that sounded suspiciously like this one), I want to focus on other projects as well. One of those is my personal art blog, which I've neglected even though I've had art on the backburner that I've been meaning to post for AGES. Kingdomrune is another one of those, where I have shit I could post that I just... never did. Dread Not takes a lot of time and I miss being able to dedicate that time to consuming media instead of just grinding and trying to produce my own. One of the most important things to do as an artist is to broaden your horizons and take in as much art as you can, to diversify and expand what you know and what you can make. But, when all day every day I'm just sitting and drawing my own thing, it's like I have tunnel vision and my creative resources run dry. It's starting to feel weirdly soulless on my end, because I don't feel nearly half the inspiration to make the pages as I did when the big hiatus ended. It's all dependent on time and exposure, and I can only crunch for so long before it starts to feel damaging to me instead of fun and creatively fulfilling.

So what does this mean, practically speaking? Well, for one, I'm spacing out the page upload for the rest of Act 1, as previously mentioned. I'm well aware this will kill the pacing and it'll drag out longer than it theoretically needs to, but I'd even rather that than trying to rush out a page in the Two Days I have free this week (yeah, ONLY two days free out of the ENTIRE week. Don't ask me why it's not even my fuckin' fault this time). If pages become even more scarce than 1 page per 2 weeks, blame it on college. I'm getting new subjects and I don't even know the class schedule yet. Concerning Act 2 though, I'll be changing the structure of the pages from their core. I'll be switching to a different drawing software (probably Krita, suck my dick Photoshop) so it'll take some getting used to. I can't even promise bonus content or anything during the necessary break between acts because of that shift in software happening, I've never done a massive technical move like this. However, it'll allow me to, not only work on Dread Not better, but expand my art overall, so it's definitely worth it. I've wanted to get into animation for YEARS and Krita seems like an okay place to start (the gif on this post WAS made with Photoshop, but shitty gifs are about all I can make as animations in Photoshop). Act 2's style will, predictably, differ heavily from Act 1 and (with how long writing the dialogue alone for it is taking), it might end up being Longer than Act 1, too. Visually, it'll probably be something like cleaned up and coloured sketches, with simpler colour palettes and simpler (big airquotes) visuals overall, and it'll speed up the process and possibly allow me to post more than one page at a time. Possibly. That's not a promise.

I'm sorry if that's disappointing to anyone, but I physically can't make myself continue the current artstyle across all acts. It's just not feasible.

For those curious about the FARTHER future of Dread Not, I have plans to turn Act 3 into a series of fics rather than full comic pages, and something maybe a bit more insane for Act 4. I don't have everything figured out yet, and I don't want to make any false promises or give any grand ideas I won't be able to commit to, since only time will tell how my creativity will flow years from now. If you all want more content from me specifically, again I'm planning on reviving my art tumblr like a half buried zombie, and you'll probably see more there than you bargained for once I actually get into the habit of posting things. If you're mayhaps interested in my original stuff, keep your eyes peeled for a guy called Duro, I might start posting about him some time soon.

As always, thank you for your patience, and apologies again if this news was disappointing to anyone. I'm just one guy and this comic is a titan of biblical proportions. I'll keep you all posted on any further developments and plans for the future! Stay tuned!

#dread not #dreadnot #dread not au #dreadnotau #not comic #kris #schedule update #i was supposed to post this yesterday but then i got fucking sick #spent all day in bed hardly awake #so those two free days i mentioned in the post?#gone. just like that.#fuckin pray for me

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reserved-system · 3 months

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Love is Blind [HSBB]

You know that moment when you've known someone for so long that it feels like you've own them forever? That how this fic reads :D It's so light, and fluffy. In this AU Grian is blind and has a massive crush on Scar, whom he shares an apartment building with. How does the rest unfold? You'll have to read the fic and find out yourself!

[Link here!]

Maggiee did such a wonderful job, and was our biggest supporter during this! So let's go show them some love! Another huge shout out to the mods and specifically Dux for putting this event together! Check out the #hsbb 2023 tag for more works and fics like this!

Extras under cut - Wips, rambles, the whole nine yards

Over the course of 2 months, this piece took us nearly 16 and a half HOURS. Up until switching to Procreate I never had an art program that timed how long I worked on something. If CSP has this feature I must've not been able to find it.

The amount of time is pretty stunning to me. I'd say 16 hours isn't that bad! At least by my own standards.

Absolutely shocked by the amount of strokes btw. That's fucking insane.

So for once I actually went at this with a few thumbnail sketches and this was the winner out of the 3 and I blew it up to size and started the finalized sketch.

The funniest thing is I started this right before my art style decided to change so I hope you enjoy the old art style :P <3

So, I did something interesting here. In the past when we would do full pieces we would do a lineless background, so everything besides the characters were painted lineless.

THIS time we decided to line the background with maroon instead of black to help break up the characters from the background so they pop! more and I really like how it turned out and we're happy to say this has carried over into other pieces. :]

I want you to pay attention to Scar's wheelchair in these shots, it's the only thing that changes. I remember doing the shading on the background and main color on the characters all in one night because I was having a bad bout of insomnia and I posted my progress in the artist wip-sharing channel on our event server and looked back at it the next morning and was SO embarrassed I had to fix it. This is also when I changed references.

For some reason I didn't capture any in progress shots of the shading but we did manage to get a few shots of Grumbot. :] He's modeled after a labadoodle! While working on this the team and I discovered that's what they were originally bred for, to be hypoallergenic guide dogs! Isn't that cool!?

[With the source we found here]

My partner and I own a poodle and he was kind enough to be my reference/model. He was well compensated with treats don't worry.

Anyways, thank you for reading our rambles! Whether you're here from a reblog, from the fic itself, or were already following us. I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for the rest of our pieces for the event.

From the Reserved System, Happy HSBB everyone!! <3 <3 <3

#hermitshipping big bang #hsbb 2023 #HSBB #hermitshipping #grian fanart #Scar fanart #gtws fanart #goodtimewithscar fanart #grumbot fanart #<- TECHNICALLY #He's the pupper #hermitcraft fanart #Love is Blind AU

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afreakingdork · 4 months

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Hiii, I have a question, I don't know if you've answered one like this before, but here goes

If the bad timeline we see in the rise movie had occurred in the Weak Spot plot context - with Donnie being separated and such - do you think the hardships would've forced them to join forces and/or give their relationship try?

Or would've they stayed separated, each suffering their own fate?

I've talked to someone about this, but I genuinely can't remember if it was on here or in a DM. This is why all questions are welcome! Repeat or not! 😂

Sadly, Donnie would not have made it. Note to keep in mind: most of his tech is connected to the neural link. This extends to his tech gauntlet and battle shell. The former is what you see grow into gloves and claws in chapter 19. While Donnie is mostly brain, we've also seen he's pretty damn feral. Because of this, his villain suit has levels that can be reached when he's starts to lose control and acts on instinct. These are:

Form 1: bug

Form 2: scorpion

Form 3: lion fish

Form 4: ê̵͂l̵̍̏d̶̐͗r̷͗̇i̸̐̚t̴̏͝c̴̐̎h̶̓̎

The first is the usual costume pictured here where mobile isnt letting me do links anymore

https://www.tumblr.com/shiftandshade/713089584050864128/afreakingdork-s-villain-donnie-suiting-up-for

I'm absolutely miserable without my laptop y'all.

Anyway, the second forms been reached quite a few times. Shades drawn that too but it was a sketch so I'm not sure I can share, but form 3 is exceedingly rare, with form 4 having only been reached twice in Donnie's life.

One of those times was the krang invasion. This Donnie never made it onto the technodrome. He was stuck fighting for his life on land. He barely survived and only because the others won. It was part of the cinching reason he started to modify his body. You gotta think, he's seeing technology that is eons ahead of what earth is capable of, a strength of which there is basically no comprehension, and the bros make it while Donnie has to push his body to the absolute limits to scrap by? Plus the boys have ninpo and he doesn't? It's the full weight of his inadequecies and drives him mad.

But that's Weak Spot, right?

In bad future, he never exited form 4. He eventually succumbs, becomes krangified and nearly wipes out humanity with in the first few months of the invasion through his tech alone under the krang control. The brothers are barely able to take him out (I imagine this is where we lose Raph and Splinter) and it's a devastating blow to existence, but they persevere to make it so Junior is still born and the timeline otherwise carries on to save the other.

Reader is inconsequential, but no one makes it in bad future except Junior...

#Ask

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dudewithastick · 1 year

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sneaky peek at my current wip (also the first wip i had in months) and some thots on it. i need to rant (complain) so bear with me

so far its going pretty good, it doesn’t look bad and thats cool bcs i defs wouldve given up if it did look bad at this point.

obviously this is some kind of realism style and its okay, its not the best, idc. what sucks is that i dont even want this style but its the only one i can do. like i wanna do cartoons and other artsy stuff with clear lines or just sketching. stuff i see online, but i CANNOT do it, no matter how hard i try. i will always do some realistic shadowing and then its over bcs the composition isnt right for me anymore. and i hate it bcs not only would my life be so much easier if i wouldnt fall into this kind of ‘realistic’ style, which is straight up a pain, id be so much more productive as well. but i’m some weird perfectionist dumbass (blame it on my virgo rising or whatever) so shading and tiny details it is.

speaking of details, i love that i accidentally built this wip on my sketch file, which was not nearly a good enough format and now the quality SUCKS ASS but thats nothing new to me so i’m just gonna accept that every detail i draw is like 5 pixels only and you can barely see them.

another thing i suck at is color theory. and when i started this project (yesterday) i was set on doing only b&w. literally 3 seconds in i used colors and i regretted it immediately bcs it looked good which meant i had to continue bcs we dont do half assed shit… so now i committed to color and i don’t understand color theory. like i can see it working but it doesn’t make sense and all i do is experiment bcs i see no sense or pattern (now i question my tiktok diagnosis of autism, neurodivergence and adhd)

at this point i have also given up at originality. im just copying my references picture, which is fine bcs i will never be able to draw a whole ass person, and i would defs not be satisfied if i wouldn’t add details. so now im stuck at drawing a whole military outfit and my reference picture is also only 9 pixels so i cant even make out what im drawing. i’m just guessing at this point.

okay for now the last part of my complaining… @blnk338 why did u choose such a unique mask for reaper? the way i struggled with the concept and its still not perfect but i dont wanna get hung up on it so i’m moving all over the place and going back to the mask every other minute… pretty sure the mask design alone took me 2 hours to put together so it made sense to my brain and then another 3 to design to my liking lmao

anyway this is a snippet of my current take on reaper from rwys, which so far is only the body but there will probs be eyes at some point, if i dont give up. first time in months, almost years of drawing something, so i guess big thanks to blink for giving me the motivation and a character to work on for fun. hopefully i can give an update on progress soon lol

#rwys #fanart #reaper #prawny draws #prawny complains #prawny rants #wip #teach me color theory pls i beg u #why did i choose the placement of my light source 3 hours in??#i am my own nemesis

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wellhalesbells · 6 months

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TAG SOMEONE YOU WANT TO KNOW AND/OR SOME OF YOUR BESTIES

Tagged by @kikiroo - thank you, my darling!!! *friendly shark bites at you*

Last song: Probably either The Man or Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift. I just spent a week with my sister on vacation and she had just watched the Eras Tour movie so she was getting both of those stuck in my head all the time, and then we'd have to listen to them ofc.

Last movie: It was Host by Rob Savage (or at least it was when I started this, lol). I watched it 'cause I saw something on Insta about the Top 10 Scariest Movies according to what the average resting heart rate is for it. I didn't find it very scary (got me at the end though, woo boy) but I did love it - but then I love things that use the pandemic well and this definitely did imo. Plus it's all structured around (and shot through) a Zoom interface so it's only, like, fifty-seven minutes long because that's all you get when you don't pay for Zoom, haha.

Currently watching: Goosebumps, Last Week Tonight, The Fall of the House of Usher, Two Sentence Horror Stories, Our Flag Means Death and Ghost Files and I am half-assing all of it. I've either only started the first episode or only watched the first episode on all of those. I have no staying power these days. Though I am only one ep behind on Last Week Tonight \o/

Other stuff I watched this year: Unfortunately for you guys, I write fucking everything down and it is now the tenth month of the year. I GOT RECS. Well, Meg 2: The Trench, which is a cinematic masterpiece and I will take no questions on that (unless they're Joming related). (Cognizant of the month) Here are spooky things I watched this year and liked a lot: X, The Black Phone, The Menu, Terrifier and Terrifier 2 (this is definitely only for gore fans though), Bodies Bodies Bodies, Cocaine Bear (also a cinematic masterpiece, also not taking questions), Interview with the Vampire, Wednesday, Severance, Evil, The Last of Us, Over the Garden Wall, Magpie Murders, What We Do in the Shadows, and Shining Vale (haven't started the second season yet!). Also really liked: Paddington, Nimona, Barbie, Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse, Vivo, Derry Girls, The Bear, The Boys, Mythic Quest, Only Murders in the Building (I haven't watched the new season yet though but I expect great things), Reboot, Tuca & Bertie, Los Espookys, Barry, Extraordinary, Crashing (I literally watched it three times in a row - watching Sam and Fred fall in love 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 plus I fucking love Jonathan Bailey - I consistently find him ridiculously charming), Hacks, Avenue 5 (so sad this got canceled when I feel like it just hit its stride), Staged (I've watched it probably six times now), Abbott Elementary, A Black Lady Sketch Show, Ted Lasso, I Think You Should Leave Now (just for that one sketch, you know the one and, if you don't, I am HAPPY to tell you about it!), Unstable (petition for Fred Armisen to be in everything though, right?), Black Mirror, Central Park, Elite (I haven't watched the new season yet!), Reservation Dogs (ditto), The White Lotus, Good Omens, Letterkenny, Minx (what's ditto but for the third time?), Heartstopper, Sasaki and Miyano, and The Other Two.

Shows I dropped/didn’t finish: I'm behind on everything all the time so I'm only going to answer for shows I dropped and I don't think I've dropped any this year?

Currently reading: The Dead Take the A Train by Cassandra Khaw & Richard Kadrey (about halfway through), House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (I'll be reading this until I die, I think), Cunk on Everything by Philomena Cunk, The Fragile Threads of Power by V.E. Schwab (nearly finished!), The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith, My Darling Girl by Jennifer McMahon and The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice (decided to do a reread of the IwtV series this year since I never actually finished it and only got to book ten and I read it way too long ago to remember anything that's happening if I just picked it up now).

Currently listening to: My calendar alarm telling me to go to my dog's vet appointment.

Currently working on: getting at least a third of the way through My Darling Girl

Also absolutely no pressure tagging @andavs, @callunavulgari, @piratefalls, @clotpolesonly, and anyone else who wants to do this!

#uh oh i've found the keyboard again #okay i really HAVE to go to this appt now omg #meme #meme answers

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arch-godenvy · 6 months

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AGENT JESTER , LEVEL III

name genevieve castillo nicknames jester, jes, jessie age thirty-nine date of birth august 13, 1984 zodiac leo place of birth new brunswick, new jersey current residence brooklyn gender genderfluid pronouns she/he/they sexuality bisexual, women preference occupation artist / level iii cerberus agent

faceclaim aubrey plaza height 5'6 tattoos many... secret :) piercings lip, healed. both ears. distinguishing features big eyes, knowing smile positive traits creative, relaxed, imaginative, expressive negative traits foolish, immature, tactless, unserious labels / tropes class clown, beware the silly ones, blatant lies, hidden depths, lonely rich kid likes pulling pranks, art, people watching, baked goods dislikes meetings, serious missions, level i agents fears death hobbies painting, sketching habits clicking tongue, rolling eyes, tapping foot

002. EXTRA ORDINARY

near death experience…

jester was having a normal day. the most normal a day can get for her. her roommate left. her boyfriend broke up with her. her favorite bakery didn't have her favorite little treat. that's fine! she goes to the met because that's where she's able to think and relax. jester had no idea that this would be the location for a cerberus corp mission. between one step and the next, jester is dead on the steps of the met, the extra ordinary that practically ran through her in pursuit of a villain not even turning back to check what happened. very sad very terrible. she's revived by a do-gooder that saw the entire thing happen, shocked back to life. when asked about her experience, she details that it felt like she was in a prism, her reflection everywhere she looked, though each was a little different, showing jester on a separate path that she could have taken at any time in her life.

power…

self-replication / duplication. jester can duplicate herself into tangible perfect replicates. the limit she's found is 10 replicants. each is able of individual thought and action, though she had to have given them the initial thought as she created the duplicate. it is impossible to tell which jester is the real one, and it makes her pranks nearly deadly. she discovered her power when she was wishing she could bake, paint, and relax / watch tv at the same time and she immediately split into three.

drawbacks / vulnerabilities…

as of right now, the duplicates need to be within 100 ft & she needs to have them in her line of sight. the more she has up, the closer they have to stay. as soon as a duplicate is attacked, it disappears as if it was an illusion. a hit against a duplicate does not effect her, but a hit against her may cause her to lose concentration and therefore all duplicates will disappear as well. ever since her death a few months back, her thoughts have been racing and more scrambled, and being split into duplicates helps her manage things.

(if applicable) cerberus corp…

jester auditioned for cerberus on a whim when her friend said that her power could probably be used to do some good. she has no desire to 'do good' but at least working at cerberus gives her something to occupy her time. no one thinks that she'll be able to make it past level iii considering her lack of motivation, but if she puts in the work, it's certainly possible. jester's recent mission was successful, just barely, and is under investigation because she ran off from the higher level agents that were on the mission with her. she's here for a good time not a long time tbh.

codename…

jester is a childhood nickname that she chose as her codename on the basis that 1) its cute and 2) fits her ability & personality. cerberus does not give a damn...

003. HEADCANONS

will recruit people into a prank war without warning

(un)intentionally sabotages missions

dad is a politician and mom is a famous actress. neither have had contact with her since her birth as she was raised by a rotating team of nannies. her mom and dad's relationship was an affair on both sides and it would be a scandal if it were to come out, even forty years later.

a very good liar

does have depth despite the front she puts on!

her art is reflective of people she meets, though it has become increasingly more abstract and chaotic since her death and resurrection.

always smiling in a sort of sinister way like she knows too much

does not train. will duplicate herself and have the duplicate train in her place.

004. CONNECTIONS

(on main wc page) a housemate that doesnt have to pay rent but she asks them to pay anyway just to see if they will. she goes through roommates like theyre nothing, usually because they end up leaving her, fed up with her antics.

(on main wc page) the eo that was responsible for her death

ex-relationships.. yes plural. she falls in love easily but people seem to fall out of it much faster

muse / inspiration for her art

a level i or ii agent that is assigned to help her train and hates every second of it

???? idk. profit.

let her get into prank wars with your muse thanks.

#cc.intro

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