#my first art trade actually AND with one of my favorite artists ever in this life.... dreams come true y'all.... dreams come true ..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marshmallowprotection · 22 hours

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Hi! I see that since you mentioned match ups are open people have eagerly hopped in. I honestly don't blame them since you're so good at it. It's really fun reading everyone's match ups so I wanted to give it a go too! I wanted to avoid mentioning or comparing characters to avoid influencing the results but like simplifying a person's personality is hard so I'm just gonna roll with it, lol.

In terms of personality, I'm an introvert but that doesn't mean I'm shy. I can be (I have, like, 3 different anxiety diagnosis) but usually I'm generally low energy and relaxed. Very deadpan. So much so much so that people tend to laugh even when I'm being serious. I'm a Taurus and I find the description very much fitting. I take pride in being pragmatic, grounded, down to earth. I like taking care of people in a more realistic way (and just in general). In spite of seeming calm or blunt I'm actually really sensitive and emotional (although I'll never show others my vulnerability). I always try to consider the other person's feelings which is why I'm often called kind and considerate. A good listener. I'm quiet so that comes with the territory lol. I generally don't like to talk about myself and will only say something if asked/spoken to first. In simple terms I'd say I'm a weird mix of Jumin(practical, decisive, analytical) and V(emotional, sentimental, self sacrificing). I always end up getting the most hearts from them when I respond honestly especially Jumin haha. One last thing for me is that along with my millions of anxiety disorders(including paranoia so I heavily relate to Rika and Saeyoung) I also have ADHD(I guess *also* like Saeyoung lolol). As I'm sure you can tell by now I don't have the one that makes me bounce off the wall. I believe the one I have is called inattentive and it makes me a total space cadet. But I was very imaginative and creative so I think it was good trade off? I'm pretty sure my mom thought child me was a plant because I was so quiet and still. Never cried that much and was an "easy" child except when she had to coax me to do things. Then I was stubborn lolol. Definitely a Taurus haha.

For work and study, ever since I could hold a crayon I've been drawing and art has always been my focus. In public school I'd pick the all the art classes and I'd even take outside classes during summers off and when I grew out of that I'd do self study with books and online tutorials. I do illustration and graphic design and my major in college was visual communication design (which is a wordier way to say graphic design). I got my associates but sadly had to drop while doing my bachelor's (would love to get a master's and study art forever but it's just a dream for now). Currently, I work as a bakery clerk part time until I can get a better job but I like it. I like seeing people's faces light up saying "SO PRETTYYY~" when they see our cakes. I do a little bit of everything so bread bagging, baking, set up, orders, cake decorating. It's very well rounded job where I'm breaking a sweat and feel like I'm earning my dollar while also having creative input. I like giving the customers advice for their get togethers and parties. It's nice. I'd like to one day have my own brand and put myself out there as an artist but for now this is fine enough.

When it comes to hobbies I feel like it's on the nose cause I like to be creative and have my hands moving. The obvious is drawing (both digitally and traditionally. Love using soft chalk pastels) and baking but I also like more crafty hobbies like crocheting and scrapbooking. I'm a big stationary nerd and I love collecting paper, notebooks, stickers/washi taped, pens/pencils, ect. Been into watching bookbinding vids. I also have the more typical hobby of listening to music, reading (big book nerd put me in a book store I'll leave with a tall stack), big gamer nerd.

Some other miscellaneous info about me is my favorite color is green 💚. I generally like deep earthy, natural colors but I also like gentle pastels like pink and lavender. I'm a big dog person and I dislike cats. I'm actually afraid of them and they cause me a lot of anxiety. I would never cause trouble for them and I hope they are homed to people that genuinely adore them. I just don't jive with them. I can and have taken care of them in a pinch. I wouldn't let my personal stuff cause them harm. I definitely understand and relate to dogs more. I want to grow old with a bunch of pups to take care of lol. I don't want kids so cute puppers will do. I have hazel eyes and rusty red hair. When I was younger my hair was much brighter yellow orange compared to Saeyoung but as I got older it turned into a deeper, darker rust red. I also have freckles all over. My favorite shape is stars! I love astrology and magic and whimsy (again such a contrast from how I present lolol ⭐)

Im more prone to forgiving and moving on and I found Saeran's AE really relatable. It brought up a lot of topics that were really important to me that I feel a lot of people overlook in stories about healing from abusive parents. I really can't hold onto my anger for very long and generally prefer to look at people for what they are and either work with them or move on. I don't like letting others take my time and energy which is why I'm "nice", or at least normal, to even people i don't like. I feel like being petty and angry all the time is draining. It's just my style of healing. On the contrary I find anger and yelling very triggering for me even from friends who I know won't hurt me or are speaking on my behalf. The antagonististic energy is just very uncomfortable. I prefer a gentle touch I can trust. Everyone is capable of getting angry, it's healthy and normal, but I prefer someone who's first instinct isn't to jump to anger but understanding. Makes me feel safe.

That's about everything I can think of. I don't normally think about myself so it's hard to write haha. Hopefully that all made sense. Thanks for taking the time if you see this. 😊

I match you with...

Jihyun!

Hear me out, I know this might sound odd, but you seem to fall into the same realm as his heart.

Don't take this to mean that you're self-destructive, it's actually that you're passionate and that this passion is what inspires you to be who you are. Even though it may not be a lucrative career to survive as an artist, you find a way to make it work, and in doing so, you don't sacrifice what helps you feel like you have artistic liberty. Not a lot of people have that opportunity, and it would be interesting to be close to Jihyun, wouldn’t it? He didn't give up on his dream of painting, he simply found something else to fill the void in his chest because his father made him believe he would never be able to make it.

Seeing you be your most authentic self is a challenge to everything he's ever told himself. You're the kind of person who challenges him, because while you are similar, you are inherently different, as well. It's not a bad thing, it's something he welcomes, and he can't help but want more.

He's not the kind of person who's going to jump to anger when something goes wrong. You don't have to be afraid of being in a conversation with him, especially not with the two of you are upset, because he has a level enough head to know that you need to take some time to breathe, and do whatever you need to do before you come back to the conversation. Nothing ever feels like it's going to explode when you're with him. It feels like you can overcome any challenge that comes your way.

#mod kait #ask #matchup #saltheartgal

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plasma-packin-mama · 1 year

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💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

AWWW hi Astra, thank you!!

Hmm I feel like a lot of times as of late, I'm already a bit unsatisfied with my works as soon as I've finished them. It's a good thing because it means I'm learning, but not the best feeling anyway. I think it's an important skill as an artist to learn to love your works even if you see flaws with them, because there's always some element to appreciate, and creation in itself is beautiful. Here's some things from this blog that I still like:

Of course I have to put my comic here. I'm not too happy with a lot of the art in it to be completely honest, but I know that I worked very hard on it, and it was a big step for me to put something so personal out for others to see for the first time. I'm generally very private about my identity, so I was very nervous to broadcast something that talked so directly about that subject, even if it was actually about Delilah's story. (I've never tried to hide the fact that I put a lot of myself into Delilah lol) I still go back and reread the feedback I got on that comic sometimes because it makes me so happy to see others connecting with and feeling "seen" by my work. I never expected so much kindness. I think the reception of this comic is stored forever in my brain like one of the Core Memories from Inside Out. Thank you so much to everyone who left me feedback of any kind on that work, because I'm sure it means more to me than you really expected.

This is from very early in my blog when I first met @/thebigolbee and I worked SO hard on it because I felt so lucky that such a great and popular artist like Bee was doing an art trade with me! 😭😭 About nine months later I think we draw each other's OCS about as much as we draw our own- so I guess it worked out lol! I spent a long time on the line art for this one and I think it turned out really nice :)

I'm very proud of the background in this drawing, and I think the characters came out cute as well even though they're just a doodle. I get lazy with backgrounds most of the time so it was a good exercise. It was fun to work on!!!

This was a drawing I did when I was really struggling with art, I tried to loosen up (the hardest thing ever for me lol) and just go with the flow and honestly, even though it's nothing too special I still just really enjoy something about it!!! It's fun I think! (I have to draw Delilah during that period of their life more...)

ACK. This Frankenstein drawing that I picked at for so long and eventually just didn't finish the background for. I really love the characters and the mood of the piece, even though i intended to add much more detail to the room they're in. I think sometimes it's ok to leave things "unfinished" instead of just agonizing over it and never letting it see the light of day.

Valentine's drawing. It really surprised me how this became one of my most popular posts because I didn't really expect anyone to notice it!!! I drew it 1000% for myself, because happy sparkly characters being happy together are my favorite to draw. But apparently everyone else also likes that! A good lesson. (Maybe it was just bc everyone loves Ms. Rae Jepsen's musical stylings as much as me...)

I'm really proud of all the art that I did for high fantasy au, but this one especially because I worked very hard with my markers and I feel like it came out well!! I'm really awful at utilizing color in an interesting way-- I get nervous about ruining stuff by adding the wrong color the wrong place, but I think I did really well this time!!

I think that's enough!! It was really nice to look back at all my old works - I was actually surprised by how many things I still like despite their age!!! I do feel very positive after writing this post, so thank you for sending this along to me Astra!! :] I encourage everyone to do this, really go through your works and think about what you've learned from each one and why it's still nice!!

#peepie art #<- if u want to browse ALL my posts hehe #ask #thedorkyastra

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abimee · 1 year

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people always tell me my art style remindse them of childrens book illustrations and i rarely make kid friendly stories anymore but you know what i need to make some so here

Aria Wewason is a freshly indoctrinated middle schooler of the Island Cities Elementary School in the disastrous and opportunistic year of 2008; smartboards and chunky computers have just been rolled into the classrooms, and on-line video-hosting websites have just taken off in the public conscious, and Aria has one dream set in her mind above all else --- to start a media production club in her final years at her school, and become the host of her own web series!

However, she lives in a secluded and slow-to-the times town tucked in the farthest reaches of Wisconsin; where iPhones are still coveted between the rich kids, and most kids her age still lived off of their parent's landlines and slow-running computers and have little to no access to the world wide web. Aria herself has little knowledge of technology herself, but is determined to become the most tech-savvy kid in her school and show the world her creativity and imagination through video!

Luckily, she's got a team behind her set to help her out;

her best friend since they were in preschool, Bell Mabel, who has access to the latest home computer through her parent's at-home jobs, and even owns her own Nikon handheld

the most popular --- and richest --- girl in school [name here], who after a rocky start in elementary school spent picking on Aria came to consider Aria her best and only friend, with an obsession for trading card games and with one finger on the pulse of all things gaming

a strange and energetic 4th grade who asks everyone to call her ''Tock'', who has a school-renown habit of causing trouble and gaining the ire of the teachers around her, yet is unmatched in her artistic and roleplay skills, and her through place in special education has a curious and strange level of knowledge of the inner workings of the school.... including where their budget goes?!

two IT techs crammed into a small closet the school calls their ''server room''; highschool dropout Ryder MacNamara, the second in command and often the one running around from classroom to classroom helping with the daily disruptions and presentations. Also known to moonlight as the Friday Popcorn maker, and routinely known to interrupt gym class to ''borrow'' the use of the gym teacher's microwave stashed in their room, which usually brings no less than five minutes of her picking on the teacher in front of the kids and making them laugh.

Ruyan Wozniak, a married woman and the showrunner behind everything plugged into the walls of the school. Often only found crammed into the small closet with her army of cables and screens, and known for her unending amount of kindness and patience for the students of the school when seemingly nobody else would listen to them, she has grown to become the kids' favorite ''teacher'' of them all, but when asked if it's true that she's married to the gym teacher she will often lie and tell them that theyre siblings, and she's actually married to a famous football quarterback for some reason

Seth Wewason, Aria's younger brother and classmate of Tock, whos always following around Aria and talking about wanting to be a weather forecaster on their local channel some day.

With the support of her friends and two IT nerds behind her, Aria is dedicated to seeing her goal achieved, and to leave the lasting legacy of the founder of the media productions club at her school! But when the Charter School section of her school --- a hallway blocked off from the rest of them, and spoken to in hushed whispers as ''holy curriculum'' full of classrooms with bean bag chairs and no homework --- begin to talk about forming their own media productions club, will Aria and co be able to defy their odds and be the ones to first the school's first-ever video-based morning announcements, or will Aria's only shot be taken away by the prestigious elites of the school?

#comes included with a very obvious bit about middle school currency wars and going to the nurses office etc etc #ocs #what to call it. hmmmm. lights camera classroom there #Lights! Camera! Classroom!

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joxaren-ebelyn · 1 year

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For christmas I give you another free space ask (ignore that is it, in fact, not christmas when I sent this)

just gonna knock out some questions i wanted to answer but forgot from the end of year artist list!! no specific order to em

19. i did my first ever art trade a little while ago on discord but ive never done a collab!! I'd love to do some, maybe like a swap lineart and color what you get type thing :) im also open to doing trades

5. i LOVE drawing eyes and putting little details into them, so heres a bunch of my favorite pairs of eyes! warning!! semi-spooky missing eye and facial scarring on the last one!!

honorable mention: crimson's hand scar from that one rp <3

14&15 i have no idea how many pieces ive actually finished the past year, paper or digital, but i have 352 files (medibang canvases) under "Gems." (And I only started drawing with medibang after christmas of 2021, that's when I got my drawing tablet, so most all of them are from 2022!)

Most are wips but yeah. Lotta shit!! This year im gonna try to go back and finish whatever I can, and redraw anything where my style is too different to be cohesive now. Im already failing bcus I've drawn like 8 new things and haven't started looking at old stuff

thanks for interacting so much with my blog fiery :)) i need to start posting more unprompted soon asjhdjkfh

#my art #my ocs #friend's ocs #steven universe #gem galaxies

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esprei · 2 years

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If you're sick of these by now feel free to delete lol but! We're sharing pokemon and/or submas origins?

Okay I've been a pokemon fan since like. 2004? Right before gen4 came out! A friend showed me the original pokemon movie and I was HOOKED. Especially because of Mew! I loved it so much I wanted to learn more... And immediately I got into the cards lol and began collecting!

I got my first games in 2009, Fire Red and Pearl, and played for HOURS! Pearl was my favorite :) I made up a whole storyline for my trainer and had a riolu as my starter bc I traded my actual starter to my cousin lol. It was so much fun, I battled my cousins a ton and kicked their asses. It was glorious.

I actually did get Black upon release, but never finished it :( I moved to a new location in the US... and in middle school, no one else liked pokemon! It was unbelievably lame!! So I fell out of it for YEARS until university, where I began some card collecting again.

PLA is my first game since Black, actually! I also found my copy of black and am going to finish it.

So my pokemon history is long but! I am very very new to the submas fandom! :D I didn't know these guys existed before this march, or at least any pictures I saw of them were just 'generic pokemon screenshots/memes' and I thought nothing of it.

In march, I was INUNDATED with submas fanart from a ton of artists i love, and became curious bc i loved their character designs. And then I learned they were twin brothers and had a wonderful dynamic and i was HOOKED. It was hyperfixation at almost first sight, even if I did my best to resist XD I was worried about feeling cringe, but my friends were really nice and I finally relented.

I'm glad i did bc now i'm actually feeling HAPPY online again and everyone is unbelievably nice!! I'm having the time of my LIFE lol. (I enjoy commenting on your art on twitter >:) )

~ingo-ingoing-ingone

YEAH SAME same for me on the submas front, learning about their sibling dynamic and how supportive they are of each other is so wholesome and it makes ingo's disappearance to hisui in pla hurt that much more, poor emmet has to be so distraught……

and omg YES the fandom is so nice!!! i'm having a really great time too, it's actually kind of crazy because i don't think i've ever been so invested in something in a long time, but it's so so fun to talk to everyone and gush about submas sflksjdflkj

AHHH YES THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS SO MUCH 💖

thank you for sharing!!!

#pinetreeparadoxx #asks

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jmdbjk · 2 years

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Psst. It’s me:

Name: Yo mama. Not really. But if I told you, I’d have to kill you. Just kidding. You can call me jmdbjk. Or Ferg. Ferg works too.

Sign: Aquarius. (sings very off-key: ...it’s the dawning of the age of Aquarius..) Not now though. We are way past the dawn of that age. That was actually back in 1970 or whatever year that song came out ... 1969... so now we may be getting to the late afternoon of Aquarius. Or maybe we’re already in next week of Aquarius...who knows. BUT!! the opening lyric IS: “When the MOON is in the Seventh House” ...so there’s that.

Time: 6:54 p.m. when I began typing this. Let’s see how long it takes for me to finish. I can be long-winded...

Birfday: February 13. Yes, I share the magic number.

Favorite band/artist: Duh... but before BTS it was a very eclectic mix. Seventies, 80′s, disco, rock, classic rock, alt rock, country, pop, dance, you name it, I have it. From Aerosmith and Alan Jackson to Yes and ZZ Top.

Last movie: hmmm... hmmm. (thinks) ... (looks at my netflix saved list, nothing there)... hmm.. (looks at my Apple tv saved list)... OHH!! it was ISLE OF DOGS!!! damn, that was 3 or 4 years ago. An animated movie set in Japan, follows a boy's odyssey in search of his lost dog. It was pretty good in an artsy fartsy, quirky way. I don’t watch movies often. Obviously once every 4 years or longer.

Last show: Run BTS Telepathy Pt. 1. Before that it was the episode of Our Blues with Jimin’s song With You. I don’t watch television either. Ever. Except that one episode of Our Blues.

When you created this blog: I think I created it in August of 2021 so it’s been a year. My first post was Oct. 15, 2021.

What you post: The pandemonium in my head. Whatever is on my mind. I write as a way to get rid of the excess that’s constantly swirling in my brain. And since last summer, my brain has been obsessed with BTS and Jimin, Jungkook and everything surrounding them. Actually, on the outside, I am very calm. But I love words and I like to write and I have a lot to say to no one in particular. HOWEVER! I am also a very very good listener.

Other blogs: Long forgotten but also served a similar purpose as an outlet for me to express whatever was going on at the time.

Followers: 479. How on earth? Thank you for visiting my little space I created here! I do appreciate you all. Except you...YOU! you Kookie hater, go away. It’s ok, I blocked you so there, I did you a favor.

Do you get asks: Yes, some of them are actually asks.

Average hours of sleep: 6. Can function on 5 hours until late afternoon then its downhill from there. My eyeballs prefer 8 hours but for some reason the rest of my body/brain says nope, too bad.

Instruments: of creativity. I use instruments of creativity...pencil, brush, filters, words, fonts, colors, all digital of course.

What I’m wearing: oh, dang, I should have changed clothes before sitting down. I am wearing what I wore to work, a pair of skinny black pants and a dark teal t-shirt. With the appropriate undergarments. Barefooted because I kicked off my black leather platform sandals across the room.

Dream job: Well, actually, I already worked at a few of my dream jobs... retail advertising was my first job out of college so I was exposed to a lot of upscale fashion and whatnot. It was a mixture of fashion illustration and photography. That was a fun job. Then I worked in creative services at a television station where I produced tv commercials. That was fun too. I won awards at that job. I have also worked for another tv production company and traveled a lot. The traveling was fun. Another dream job was working at the biggest ad agency in my city. It turned out to not be quite as fun as I thought it would. It was a good experience (that’s what we say when we are finally free from toxic workplaces but trying to remain positive). Now I am a graphic designer/art director/digital communications manager/video producing jackoff of all trades at a very large non-profit.

Dream trip: Seoul. Period. I have traveled a lot. When I was young we lived in Canada, Australia, Singapore. I’ve been to 21 states including Hawaii. Multiple times. I’ve visited Japan and the Bahamas. Lived many years in Texas but now Louisiana is my home.

Favorite song: currently its Daydream by J-Hope. But my playlist for fitness walking is: Outro: Ego, Outro: Wings, Trivia: Just Dance, Daydream, Boy With Luv (feat. Halsey), Run BTS (the song), Dope, Boyz with Fun, Dynamite (queen), War of Hormone (don’t judge me). The beats are very crucial to keep up a fast pace. My “just listening for fun” playlist includes Mic Drop (Steve Aoki remix), My Universe (SUGA’s remix only), Airplane Pt. 2, IDOL, Serendipity, Euphoria, Trivia: Seesaw, Magic Shop, Love Maze, Make It Right, HOME, Mikrokosmos, Cypher 4, Baepsae, Daechwita, Base Line, Bad Decisions, Left and Right and others.

Sidenote: I saw on twitter where Sungwoon will be going to do his military service on Sept. 5 and I almost started crying at work. He was crying on his V Live and I had to turn it off. I don’t even know what he was saying. So when it is the BTS members time to go I am going to be a hot mess.

Thanks @onthecuterside for the tag! Now it’s your turn if you haven’t already been tagged: @shellbells-things, @wingzie, @ejassy

It is now 8:23 p.m.

And here is a present for everyone...a phone wallpaper I quickly made today because I only had four things going on at once so I had a few minutes to spare and because I needed to see these two every time I picked up my phone to look at my Tumblr notices:

#getting to know bloggers #yep this is me #bts chapter 2 #memories 2021 coming in hot so shits about to hit the fan

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dragonbeak · 2 years

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Furry Weekend Atlanta 2022 was amazing!!!

For the first time in years, let's return to convention review!

Well, I gotta say, for a first big con to return to I'm glad it was FWA 2022! FWA has always been one of my favorite local cons, even if circumstances had prevented me from attending since 2016.

At the encouragement of friends I applied for the 2022 Dealers Den last fall, got waitlisted, and then received an email from Dealers Den head, Kay, about a month before the event. And I was like, okay!!!

So April was a big rush to produce new merch to make my FWA DD debut exciting! This included a new line of pride python pinback buttons, repurposing some Helluva Boss fanart as pinback buttons as well, and my most exciting, a new shirt design "Slither Slaughter Slumber" which I had been workshopping for years but put on the backburner with pandemic times and all. And woo! I'm so glad my shirt manus pulled through, Terminus Tees are great to work with, if anyone happens to be looking for a GA based T-shirt printing company.

Man, this was the fastest I'd ever sent a file to print, haha! Also my first 3-ink color shirt which I was a little nervous about because it raises the printing cost. But it was all worth it because furries loved the shiiiiiiiiiiiiiirts!!!

Muwhahaha, so this was my first big con to have shirts as merch. And, dang, they were definitely my best items. Which was very encouraging because outside of Kickstarter my Etsy shirt sales are like... eh??? For what it's worth I know I could have better and more engaging product photos but I don't know the first thing about directing a real photo shoot.

But huh, I've mostly been talking about the con prep so far and not FWA itself? Well!!! Lemme tell you, FWA was a blast! All the attendees were so nice, everyone abided by mask rules, everyone was really kind and said such nice things. I appreciated how transparent con staff, especially Kay and the Dealers Den team, were about running the event. Even if you could tell they were working really hard due to being a little understaffed!! ovo;;; Oh man guys, don't work too hard. Understandable, since it's the first FWA to be hosted in person in about 3 years???

And my fellow vendors! Wow, I think this was the most nice welcoming experience from other vendors. I got the most art trade offers ever, got to network with folks and talk shop. I also got the feeling most furry vendors already knew each other? That was very interesting. This was actually my first time vending at FWA in the Dealers Den instead of Artist Alley and I think it was a very good fit for where my art selling hobby is at now. I also went a little wild and splurged a bit XD;; Muwhahaha! Everyone had such beautiful art!

Since it had been a while since I last sold at a furry convention, I forgot how nice furry attendees are to artists TToTT Ah, everyone was so nice. Man, I left the experience feeling really inspired and more pumped than ever to make more art merch!!! But then... just as I was getting ready to relax after one impromptu convention... Momocon literally emailed me the following Monday asking if I'd like to get off the waitlist for their convention in two weeks!!! ovo;;; Oh man!!!

To be continued?

#furry weekend atlanta #fwa22 #fwa #convention

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i-just-want-to-destroy · 2 years

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allen walker for the character ask, please. I'm very curious to hear what your thoughts are, if you don't mind

awesome!

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them oh my god everythiiiiing hes SUCH a good character! hes my FAVORITE MC TROPE a guy who seems so sweet and so nice but is actually very fucked up inside and SURPRISINGLY manipulative like hes charming because HE WANTS TO BE??? holy shiiiiiit. the blueprint for me!!! no mc has ever done what he did ever since

least favorite thing about them nothing hes peak fiction

favorite line very early in the series where he met crowley at the first time and he was like "haha dont kill urself killing monsters can be your reason to live :)!!!!" or something like that. he said it so sincerely like as if he thinks its a fucking normal mindset to have because this is HIS own mindset because hes literally crazy

brOTP kanda and him. MY blueprint. like :) >:/ pairing. this is my favorite dynamic forever. the contrasting ideologies the fire and ice of it all literally theyre the IT duo. i also love him w the rest of the cast :)) him and lenalee omg i need to see them together again 😭😭😭 him and lavi too.. theyre the brotp4 fr. him and johnny! him and LINK! hes great with everybody.

OTP idc

nOTP idc

random headcanon very artistic :))) in another life he wouldve been an artist, a performing one. likes sentimental stories. its been established that hes good at tricks, i think hes the kind of person whos good at random shit, like a true jack of trades-- like he'd trying doing something and got it right on the first try and then he goes "im just lucky :)" because hes annoying like that. given the chance he would be able to play every musical instrument. he would've enjoyed comic books as well, i really believe that.

unpopular opinion its been such a long time since i was active in dgm fandom (if i was even active at all) and since i read dgm fics but people should really write him meaner and faker hes the #1 fake bitch who is ALSO, at the same time, a genuinely good person with a good heart. the duality. hes literally the ideal mc the layers of him omg. like depicting him as naive is not wrong per se but like understand that whenever hes naive he CHOOSES to be naive. if u get it u get it

song i associate with them im not okay (i promise), the black parade, kill all ur friends, na na na yes yes the whole mcr treatment i dont give a fuck!!!! linkin park too like in the end, LEAVE OUT ALL THE REST,,, PARAMORES BRICK BY BORING BRICK....just 2010s rock treatment do you understand the vibe???!!!!!!!!!!

favorite picture of them the chokehold this pic has on me when i was in middle school like this was THE picture i loved this picture so much its in my 14 year old mind rent free

also this is my favorite hoshino art phase :)

#ask

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jacqthehermit-navigation · 9 months

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ART RELATED

Do you take commissions/requests/art trades/collabs?

Only from my loved ones depending on my free time. But generally no.

Where did you learn to draw?

Even though I came from a family of artists, I am actually self-taught. I wasn't able to go to an art school like I've always wanted. I mostly learned from watching cartoons and animes.

When did you start drawing?

Ever since childhood.

I used to draw traditionally. When I started posting my art online back in 2008, I drew on paper, scanned it then colored it on Photoshop using my mouse.

I went full digital in 2013 after saving up and buying my first pen tablet (Wacom Bamboo Pen & Touch 3rd Gen).

Who are your favorite artists?

Stanley "Artgerm" Lau, Masashi Kishimoto and Kubo Tite.

What do you use to draw?

Pen Tablet:

Wacom Intuos Pro Small

Software:

Paint Tool Sai for drawing

Photoshop for rendering

Kinemaster for video editing

Can you explain your brush settings?

Most of my brush settings are default. The others are from random artists that I watched and liked so I decided to use them too. I've been using these settings for a long time now and I can't remember the last time I added or changed something.

If you are looking for an artist to explain "what's this and that for" regarding brush settings then unfortunately it's not me. You can copy my settings if you liked them though.

Can I copy your art style?

You can use my art style as a guide but please don't copy it from A-Z. Add your own personal touch and twist as much as you can.

Can you give me art tips?

This is from my 2022 art ramblings:

Whenever artists wanna try something new to improve their art, we tend to make big drastic changes right away. This can be effective for others but not for everyone. As you can see, my art style is still the same as last year with minimal tweaks.

I decided that if I’m gonna make improvements, I’m gonna do it gradually instead of incorporating them all at once. This can be a big help in maintaining consistency. If the changes were small, we can easily remember and apply them on our next artwork.

I may now have more confidence with regards to my art compared to before but I am still not confident enough in giving/teaching art tips to people. Most of the time I am just winging my art and I personally feel like it's not right to impart that type of "knowledge" to others lmao. There are a lot of experienced artists on different platforms and you can easily search for their tutorials and advices.

Can I use your art for my profile pic?

As long as it's for personal use, you are free to use my art (icons, profile picture, wallpapers, etc). Please credit me if you can.

IMPORTANT: Do not edit, crop, trace or alter my art in any way, shape or form.

Can I share your artwork on other sites?

Artworks:

I am against reposting. I have an account in almost all platforms so you guys don't need to repost them. Just reblog/retweet/share them directly from the original post.

Note: If the artwork I made was from a very, very small fandom then I mostly allow reposting so it can reach more people. You just need to ask permission first and put proper credits.

Videos:

No. Do not repost/reupload my videos specially on Tiktok.

How long does it take you to finish an artwork?

Artworks:

I mostly do single cel shading nowadays to speed up my process. It takes me 1-3 days to finish depending on how many characters and how detailed the artwork is.

Videos:

I usually make 1 video a month but if I'm more energetic, I can make 2-3 videos.

How can I support you as an artist?

Youtube ➔ Like, comment, share and subscribe

Instagram ➔ Save, share, comment and like

Twitter ➔ Retweet, like and comment

Tumblr ➔ Reblog, like and comment

Kofi ➔ Any amount is appreciated

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cupidsintern · 3 years

Text

the death of hyacinthus - pt. i

this is my old renaissance au with artist!billy and model!steve so enjoy lol

The light spills out onto the floor before the window, making the worn wood of the floor look bright again, like new. The light doesn't reach Steve though. Billy set up the scene like that on purpose, closer to the center of his studio. No direct light. He wants this to be lit like it's the beginning of twilight. In his head, Hyacinth dies at sunset.

The room is silent, has been for a while, other than birds outside the window, a breeze that made the window tap against itself lightly, and fabric shifting if Steve stirs from where he is at all, draped across this haphazard construction of pillows, blankets, and a bench.

That's the word Billy used; “drape”. When Steve got to the studio Billy was kicking pillows around on his little model platform, trying to get everything set up right, hardly even greeting Steve at all before launching into his explanation of how he wanted Steve to look.

“-and he’s dying, but he’s not dead yet,” Billy walked half a circle around the platform, hands out. “So Apollo would- damn-” A pillow fell over, he pushed it back up. “Would be here. So if you can just sort of drape yourself across right here-”

Steve was stripping off the last of his garments when Billy turned back around.

“Here?” Steve finished kicking his stockings off, crossed to step up onto the platform.

Billy swallowed, looking Steve in the eyes because at least it meant he wouldn't look down, slack jawed. “Yeah, that's- that’s perfect.” Steve was already settling in to sitting down, letting his head fall back against the seat of the bench, throat exposed.

The way he was sitting shifted his weight in his hips more; Billy tried to look critically. Not appreciatively. He shouldn’t be appreciating the son of the nobleman that had decided to be his patron. Not that Steve was even supposed to be modeling for him beyond the two portraits he’d already had done.

“Tip your knee down more,” Billy stepps back, takes in the composition.

Steve drops his knee.

“Turn your head towards me.”

Steve obliges. The line of his nose looks perfect at three quarters.

Billy stepps up to the platform again, pulls some of the fabric forward, lets it fall over Steve's legs more, over his groin- good. Less distracting. More poetic or something- and the line of his thighs beneath the fabric has just the heaviness Billy is looking for. He steps back again.

“What’s the myth again?” Steve’s jaw gains definition when he speaks with his head at this angle.

“The Death of Hyacinthus.”

“I know that part.” Steve rolls his hand a little. “The part before that. How does he die?”

“He- hang on.” Billy steps close again to push things around, make the lines right. “The wind- Zephyr- gets jealous of his beauty. Apollo throws a discus, and Zephyr pushes it off course, so it knocks Hyacinth in the head. Apollo holds him while he dies.” Billy says it all matter-of-factly. He's trying not to get distracted. He picks up Steve's arm to tilt back towards him a little. His skin is warm like the sunlight staining the floor.

“That's sad.” Steve says. His arm feels relaxed in Billy’s grip. “Weren't they close? Apollo and Hyacinth.”

Billy feels a familiar warmth at his neck of this topic. This thing that always comes up when he and Steve are alone. “They were lovers.”

Steve doesn't say anything back to that.

Billy gets the composition mostly how he wants it- and he’ll probably try Steve in a couple different poses, this is only for sketching. He takes ages deciding where to set up to actually draw it- Steve makes fun of him. Billy says he’s not the one naked on a pile of old curtains. That makes Steve laugh. His stomach flexes a little when he laughs.

Billy's glad Steve can be part of his process now.

He gets some general gestures down on paper. He really nails the angle of Steve’s throat- which he's proud of. He needs the arch of the thing to be perfect. And he gets the general idea of Steve's features down quick- he’s drawn Steve's face maybe a thousand times by now. The way his arm falls is tricky- he’ll come back to that in a bit.

“Billy.”

Billy looks up at Steve’s voice. He’s sat up a little, something short of coy in his eyes. “I’m cold.” “You’re cold.” Billy says back to him. Because he never does what Steve implies. Only what Steve says.

“Yeah, like you said- I’m bare ass naked on a pile of curtains.”

“Your calling.”

Steve laughs again. “Do you think we could close the door?”

“We?”

“You. Can you close the door.”

“Who’s the revered artist here?”

“Who’s the patron?”

Billy rolls his eyes, but he drops his chalk into the lip of his easel anyway, walks to pull the door to his studio shut, separating them from the rest of the house. Steve left it open in the first place.

“You’re not my patron.” Billy says when he gets back, picks up to start drawing again.

“I’m close.” Steve only sounds a little superior.

He’s right. He is close to being Billy's patron. He recommended Billy to his family, he talked up Billy’s version of the pieta, he introduced Billy to the Influentials of Florence, got him this nice new studio, set up in one of the family houses. He was only a little superior about it.

Mostly he was nice.

Nice to Billy. Excited about the things he drew, always asking him what he was working on.

Asked to sit for him once, twice, how many more times, he was part of the process now.

This might be what having a muse was, if Billy believed in things like having muses.

Steve scratches the back of his calf with a foot, then sets his legs back down.

“I’m surprised you don’t get bored doing this.” Billy cracks two of the knuckles on his drawing hand, shakes out his wrist. He’s only prying a little.

“I like watching you work,” comes Steve's easy reply.

“Still.” Billy smudges at a stray line with his thumb. “You’re always fidgety at dinners and shit. Not here.”

“Dinners are boring.” Steve sighs.

He had expressed that sentiment before. That he found Billy much more interesting than anything his family ever did. That he’d trade his infinite wealth for the virve Billy so possessed. Only he didn't say it like that. He said “I’d trade all of this shit for whatever makes your art so beautiful.”

And Billy said “You wouldn't want to. Trust me.”

Billy, having seared the image of Steve into his brain by now, was adding more definition in places, really letting his focus slide out of his head.

And it’s quiet for a bit. Billy doesn't notice when the silence breaks- the sound of shifting fabric, bare feet on wood floor-

“Shit, that’s really good.” Steve's voice startles Billy a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Just turns a little abruptly to find Steve leaning over his shoulder.

“Looks just like me.” Steve continued, hovering his fingertips over Billy's rendition of his nose.

“You don’t have to sound so impressed every time.” Billy rolled his eyes, pushing Steve’s hand away.

“Oh, excuse me for showing some enthusiasm.” Steve hummed another laugh, still looking at the paper. He traced a finger absentmindedly down his own flesh-and-blood nose, marveling at the likeness.

Billy couldn't focus enough to continue with Steve so close. Not like he’d never seen Steve in next to nothing before. But this was really and truly nothing. And even naked as the day he was born Steve exuded wealth in just the way he stood. Like clothes were nothing but decoration on something already… beautiful.

“Can you go back to your spot, please?” Billy got out, looking away like he was annoyed.

Steve just smiled at him before padding back to his platform, throwing the fabric back over his legs.

But now the composition was wrong-

“So,” Steve’s voice carried across the sun-soaked chambers. “Why Hyacinth?”

“What do you mean.” Billy was trying desperately to collect his thoughts.

“I mean, he’s dating a god, right? Why him? What's so special about him.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“And?”

“Well, I mean, he’s a Spartan prince, he’s legendary. Apollo doesn't even really pick him. Hyacinth has, like, a bunch of people to choose from. He picks Apollo.”

Billy can’t draw like this, especially since Steve fucked up the composition- probably on purpose.

Billy gets up with an unintentional little huff and gets close to Steve again, has to adjust his legs again, avoid staring at the pinks that dust Steve’s everywhere-

“You draw me a lot.” Steve interrupts Billy’s train of thought.

Billy looks up, holding Steve’s wrist like it was his own. “You sit for me a lot-”

“What's your favorite part to draw?”

Billy’s breathing feels thicker, like his throat is coated in honey, sweet but hard to breathe. “Of you?” “Yeah.”

“Your nose.” Billy says easily, because it's safe to say.

Steve smiles. “You've said that before.”

“It's true.” Billy prepares to turn away again, to tell Steve they should get more done while there's still daylight.

Steve’s fingers hook against the palm of Billy's hand. This is playing with fire.

Steve lifts Billy's hand up, touches it to the bridge of his nose.

He can feel the sharp bone under his forefinger.

“Where else?”

Billy inhales. It's a feat. “Your jaw.”

Steve pulls Billy's hand down his cheek to touch his jawline. They’ve been avoiding this forever,

“And?” Cliche game of cat and mouse. Right now, Billy’s the mouse.

“Your shoulders.” Billy watches Steve drag his hand down his perfect neck to the slope of his perfect shoulders. “Steve.”

“Billy.” Steve mocks Billy’s warning tone just a little. “Come on, what else?”

Billy swallows again. He doesn't respond he just lets his hand wander lower, lower, down his chest, to his stomach-

Billy stops his hand, pushes back against Steve’s. “I’ve never drawn you nude, if that's what you’re implying.”

“Maybe you should.” Steve’s finger’s slide up Billy's forearm to hook under the edge of his rolled up sleeve.

“I’d need a couple different references...” Billy trails off. He knows Steve is about to kiss him.

It’s still delicious when he does. No number of days, weeks, waiting for one of them to make a move, of thinking what that move would be, what it would feel like, would have prepared Billy for the spit-sweet taste of a first kiss in the late afternoon.

i might do a part ii or just leave it like this lol

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove fanfic #harringrove fic #my fic #my writing #its the renaissance au

87 notes · View notes

symphonyofthewrite · 3 years

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If These Walls Could Talk

Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)

The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!

It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!

I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!

Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!

Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary:

“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”

Chapter 1: "Lisa”

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

The castle doesn’t like children.

Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.

The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.

The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.

There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.

The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.

All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.

The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.

Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.

Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?

He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.

Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.

Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.

It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.

They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.

They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.

She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.

This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.

The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.

She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.

She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.

The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.

Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.

At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.

And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.

But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.

She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.

Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.

Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.

And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.

And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.

But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.

She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.

Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.

The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.

Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.

She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.

So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.

She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.

‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.

Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.

Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.

They were both alive, once.

That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.

And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.

The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.

Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.

Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.

Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.

And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.

(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)

So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.

Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.

Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’

Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.

The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.

It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.

The castle doesn’t like change.

…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.

And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.

Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.

Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.

The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.

So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.

Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.

If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.

This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.

Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.

It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.

Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.

But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.

His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.

For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.

The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.

The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.

The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.

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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 3 years

Text

What I See

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x GN Medic Reader

Premise: My musings here resulted in this. You're a medic in the 501st who works closely with Kix. At first you think the crush you have on him is one-sided, until one day you look through his sketchbook and are surprised by a portrait he drew.

Word Count: ~2.2k

Rating: G

Other notes: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like clones

AO3

Being an army medic had its ups and downs, its slower periods and bursts of intense stressful activity. You wouldn’t trade it for anything though. The pay was better than what you earned as a civilian medical worker, your patients were much more agreeable (even though there was the occasional trooper who insisted he was fighting fit when he was still far from being so) and your coworkers were professional and easy to get along with. One coworker in particular was your favorite, and you looked forward to the shifts you shared with him.

When you first met Kix, you admired him for the love and care he showed his fellow clones and commanding officers. The two of you quickly developed a rapport; he always laughed at the bad jokes you made, and you liked to challenge him to competitions to see who could restock supply shelves in the med bay the fastest … he always won, but every time you’d stick your tongue out at him and say “I’ll get you next time!” and he would only respond with a knowing smirk.

During down time, when there were no patients and paperwork was handled, Kix would sit at his desk with a leather-bound book and a pencil. It was an odd at first, seeing the rich brown leather and sheets of paper in an austerely sterile all-white setting filled with holopads and technology, but it also looked right in his hands. Without meaning to, you’d sometimes watch as he focused intensely on whatever he was scribbling into the book, brow furrowed in concentration as he worked.

“Jesse teases me and tells me I should just take pictures,” he explained one day as he showed you some drawings in his book, “but I find this relaxing.” He flipped to a sketch of a grassy plain with mountains in the background. You marveled at the details: the colors and shading on the mountains looked like sunlight glistening off their stony faces, the grass looked so realistically textured you thought it would feel like the real thing if you touched it, and he even added some wildflowers as well.

After seeing the meticulous designs he shaved into his hair, it was no surprise that Kix was an artist.

“Looks like it could be a picture,” you commented.

“Fives said something similar once, when we were down on Felucia he caught me drawing this-“ he flipped through the book to show you a drawing of a wide-trunked tree with large drooping leaves. “I just draw what I see,” he added with a shrug.

“You’re really talented though, the best I can draw is a stick figure.”

Kix cracked a small smile. “That was once the best I could do too,” he said.

The way his lips curved in his smile, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you - in that moment you realized just how beautiful he was. Sure, he was good-looking – all the clones were – but he stood out to you.

There was no use denying it, you had a crush on him.

Before there was a chance for your thoughts to betray you in any way, Kix’s comm beeped. “Duty calls,” he said, closing his sketchbook and stashing it in a drawer under his desk. He then stood up and made his way to his station, and you followed suit. Whatever was about to come into the med bay, it would keep you busy enough to distract yourself … so you hoped.

It had to be strictly professional between yourself and Kix, you reminded yourself as the first wave of injured troopers came into the medbay. Besides, given how quickly he could turn on a heel from artist to medic like that demonstrated how dedicated he was to his work, you knew he would never let anything get in the way of his duty.

Four rotations went by. Kix went on a mission with the rest of Torrent Company, leaving you to manage the med bay on your own during your shift. It was more of the same, really … but you thought about him more than you would care to admit. Of course, you always thought about him when he went on missions, you told yourself. Everyone worried about their coworkers, right? Especially if there was a chance they might not come back?

He always came back, you told yourself. This time wouldn’t be any different.

Only it was both more of the same and different. You were working on paperwork when the med bay doors suddenly flew open, and troopers began pouring in. As soon as you commed some off-duty medics to report to the med bay, you manned the triage station so you could tend to the more critically injured troopers first. It was hectic, a flurry of stressful activity, making sure everyone who needed a bed had one and every wound and scrape was patched up. It wasn’t until everything quieted down that you found Kix in one of the beds.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw him. He was asleep, undressed from the waist up with bandages and bacta patches affixed to spots on his shoulder and the side of his head, and his lower half covered with a blanket. Nodes attached to pulse points on his inner arm connected to a machine by his bed that recorded his vital signs, and everything looked normal at first glance. His chart reported a direct blaster hit to his shoulder and a graze on his head, with an expectation of a full recovery, signed off by one of the medics you called in to help. You owed that medic big time, you thought.

A glance at the nearest chronometer revealed that your shift ended three hours ago, but you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to leave. So you grabbed a chair and pulled it over to Kix’s bed so you could sit by him. Someone had to keep an eye on him after all. It was professional courtesy, you told yourself, that was all. Besides, even though your body ached and felt heavy with exhaustion, your mind was too active and on edge for sleep.

On the floor by his bed were his things: his armor, neatly stacked and organized, next to his medical pack. Inside his pack you found his sketchbook, and you figured you could pass the time by looking at his drawings again. You found the sketch of the plain and the mountain again and took a few more minutes to admire the detail. Then the tree on Felucia, and then a tooka cat, and when you turned the page you nearly dropped the book in surprise.

Kix had drawn you. In the picture you looked off in the distance, chin propped up on your hand. The detail was incredible: the shape of your nose, your mouth, your eyebrows, all rendered with magnificent accuracy. You wondered if he drew it from memory, or used a picture as a reference, or sketched you one day on duty when you weren’t paying attention.

It had to be a picture, you decided. What you saw before you … it was an idealized version of yourself. Better-looking than anything you ever saw in the mirror.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a weak drowsy voice calling your name. You looked up and saw that Kix had woken up, his head turned towards you and his half-lidded eyes meeting yours.

“Oh- you’re awake!” you stammered, your cheeks flushing with heat as you slammed the sketchbook shut. You sprang to your feet and came to his bedside – to tend to him as a medical professional, you reminded yourself.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“My job,” you answered plainly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” he answered glibly. “But I meant, what are you doing with that?” he nodded his head best he could and glanced to the sketchbook that was still in your hand.

“Oh-“ You froze for a second. “I- sorry, I just really like your ….” Your sentence trailed off as you saw apprehension flash across his face.

“It’s fine,” Kix murmured as he averted his gaze away from you.

“I … I saw you drew me.”

“Yeah … drew that when I was away … was missing you.”

Oh. Maybe he was crushing on you too … the idea was equal parts exciting and scary.

“Missed you too,” you returned, reaching down to give his wrist a gentle squeeze. “And it’s a really good drawing of me too. Did you use a picture for reference or something?”

“Memory,” Kix said plainly.

“Wow …” You opened up the sketchbook again to your drawing and gave it another lookover. “And you made me look better than I actually do.”

“No. I told you before, I draw what I see.”

Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and you looked up to meet Kix’s gaze again. Tired as he was, he looked at you with a soft admiration, as if he was appreciating a fine work of art standing directly in front of him. Your mind was both full and blank at the same time, feeling flattered and treasured but at the same time unsure of how to respond to him.

“I … I’ve been putting off telling you how I feel about you,” he continued, “because –“

“Your duty comes first, I understand,” you cut him off as you sat down on the edge of the bed, turning your torso to better face him and setting the sketchbook down by his head.

“No, not that. Well, it has to, but – but that doesn’t mean I can’t want more out of life.” Kix paused. He raised his hand and reached it towards you. You responded by raising up your own hand, taking his in yours, and holding it in your lap. Your other hand came to rest on his wrist. He was so warm under your touch, soft and solid and steady. You knew that you would eventually have to let go, but you didn’t want to.

“My favorite part of the day is when I get to see you, whether it’s here or in passing somewhere on the ship,” he continued, “and on the battlefield after I got shot, as I was lying there, all I could think about was how I might never see you again.”

“Kix, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted you. “Except, if- if after the war’s over you wanted to give it a shot? You and me?”

“Yes.” The words immediately fell from your lips as your mouth widened into a smile. You didn’t even have to think about it, and the potential consequences that the higher-ups in the GAR might inflict upon the both of you for even entertaining the idea didn’t matter. It just felt right, the idea of you and him. You couldn’t begin to explain it.

Kix returned your smile. You raised his hand to your mouth and softly kissed the back of it before lowering it back down to your lap. Before you could disentangle your hands from his, he returned that gesture as well, pulling your hand that was intertwined with his to his mouth and pressing little kisses into your knuckles. The feeling of his lips on your hand sent pleasant little tingles through your skin.

“Let’s talk about it some more after you’ve recovered,” you suggested.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed absentmindedly. He shifted slightly in bed but suddenly stopped and froze in place, his face twisting into a pained grimace and a hiss escaping through his teeth.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling your hand back to you and scanning his body for any other signs of distress.

“Yeah, just hurts is all.”

“Let me get you some painkillers.”

“No need, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Kix, I insist.” You told him in the sternest voice you could muster.

“I have the right to refuse treatment, especially if the treatment is better spent on my brothers who are in worse shape than I am.”

He was right, he did have the right to refuse treatment. But you couldn’t bear the idea of him being in pain.

“Okay … how about a sleeping aid then? Or some water? Can I get you anything?”

“If you want to do something for me, go get some rest. I’ll still be here when you report for your next shift.”

“Ugh, fine. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Ah come on, you know you love me.” Kix said teasingly, punctuating his statement with a smirk and a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Giving him a small laugh and a half-hearted eye roll, you pushed yourself up onto your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Before you turned to leave, you took his hand in yours again, and took a moment to gaze in his eyes. It took everything in you to not immediately start imagining a life with him after the war. There wasn’t even any guarantee there was going to be a life after the war – the cruiser you were on might be destroyed tomorrow by the Separatists for all you knew – but the idea still filled you with hope and joy. Something to look forward to with him. Something else to fight for.

#kix x reader #kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone trooper #clone wars #star wars #my writing

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limit-list · 4 years

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CONCEPT!! okay okay look but i wanna see a modern day zukka fic where zuko is a tattoo artist!! his uncle is a renowned tattoo artist, owns a parlor called the Jasmine Dragon, and zuko works for him there. his designs are absolutely killer, he studies a bunch of different styles (that i do not know the names of because i know nothing of tattoos and i’m too excited to do research), like the cool samoan ones and cartoon styles and he’s really good at photo realism, but his favorite is to just treat tattooing as any other art form and use his personal style.

zuko’s a growing name in the industry, and his uncle’s competitor shop is the Flying Bison (cause why not). the Flying Bison is just a couple streets over, and in it you can find aang (tattoo artist), katara (piercing person), suki (works the desk and manages everything for the owner, kyoshi), sokka (hangs out to bother katara when he isn’t in class at the law school), and toph (likes to hang out and make recommendations until people realize she’s blind and get really awkward. she works at the flower shop next door because we like tropes and flowers and tattoos just go together, okay??)

one day, suki is complaining about losing another customer to the Jasmine Dragon and katara is agreeing, and sokka is like “ehh they can’t be that great, the owner is some old guy!! i bet if i went and got a tattoo i could cause a big ol stink about it being awful and lose them some customers” and katara is like great idea you go do that and when it sucks aang can fix it!

sokka, who was joking in the first place, somehow ends up walking into the Jasmine Dragon and stopping just inside the door cause w o w that boy is hot. what the fuck why is he hiding in here when he should be a walking poster boy, those tattoos are nice.

(zuko has the burn on his face, long shaggy hair that he ties up in a bun when he’s working, a tattooed dragon that curls around his neck, a sleeve on his left arm that’s got some flames, some symbols, another dragon curled around his wrist, and on his right forearm he’s got a white lotus pai sho tile with writing around it)

(not relevant at the moment, but sokka has the moon between his shoulder blades, a boomerang on the side of his left wrist, the pattern from his mom’s betrothal necklace on his left shoulder, katara’s handwriting that says “hey loser” going up his right side, aang’s air symbol on his right shoulder, and appa on his lower back)

zuko catches sokka staring and blushes, obviously checking him out, before asking him if he needs any help. sokka’s like “yeah actually i’m here kinda as a representative of the Flying Bison, ya know, your rival. i’ve come to get a tattoo so that we can know that we’re better than you, but now that i’m here i’m kinda seeing that nothing could ever be better than you, oh fuck i just said that out loud”

...needless to say they’re both blushing now. that is, until zuko’s like “wait? you what?? what kind of guy wants to get a tattoo just to prove that you’re better than someone else???”

sokka’s like “uhhh actually i was joking when i suggested it but then my sister said i should do it and i can’t legally deny her anything so... here i am” and then they just kinda stand there in awkward silence. for a long while. somewhere between a minute and a century.

then zuko just kinda clears his throat and is like “so um where do you want it? what do you want?”

and sokka is like “???? i JUST told you i’m here to make you make me look bad and you’re just fine with it?”

and zuko just quirks his eyebrow and smirks and scoffs a bit and is like “i couldn’t make you look bad if i wanted to. and i wouldn’t let you make me look bad.”

which, the first part is CLEARLY flirting except the second part is so condescending and sokka has never been more attracted to someone since yue tattooed the moon on his back. sokka has never been known for his exceptional decision making skills. which might be why he decides to say “so about that tattoo. does me being attracted to you create a conflict of interest?”

and zuko blushes but the smirk turns into a grin and he goes “not unless you have an issue with me being interested in you too.” and sokka cannot believe he is LIVING THIS LIFE!!!!

they hammer out the details, set up an appointment for the next day. sokka goes home and refuses to tell katara anything except he’ll be getting a new tattoo tomorrow. zuko goes home and rants to his uncle about the boy from the Flying Bison that he definitely flirted the crap out of, is that a conflict and can i please tattoo this boy even tho he’s from our competitor shop? (iroh says yes of course, though he plans to send ty lee to check out the Flying Bison in retribution)

(unseen future: ty lee and suki start dating. iroh finds this hilarious)

sokka comes in the next day for his tattoo, asks zuko to do something like his dragons cause he thinks those look cool, but gives him free reign to do whatever else he wants. it takes forever, but when they’re done sokka has officially developed an actual crush on zuko beyond just his appearance. they’ve talked about their moms, hakoda and iroh, katara and the rest of the gaang, zuko’s development as a tattoo artist, and they’ve developed a comfortable silence as music plays lowly in the backround.

when sokka looks at the tattoo for the first time, he’s absolutely speechless. zuko’s added in koi fish around the moon, in a yin yang pattern, and between the moon and appa, he’s put the sun with a dragon curled around it, head resting on its tail at the bottom.

zuko’s watching him anxiously, terrified that he’ll hate it even though he’s tried to match the style that the moon was done in as much as possible. already he’s sputtering stuff like “it’s kind of too late if you don’t like it, you did tell me i could do whatever, did i overstep with the koi fish, oh my gosh here i’ll go get your money back—“ and sokka cuts him off by turning to look at him with affection just evident on his face and wtf who gave him permission to be that cute—

and then sokka is asking “hey, can i like kiss you or is that too much for the health guidelines?” and sokka’s honestly surprised that he could even ask that much, he loves these tattoos and if he doesn’t get to kiss this amazing boy soon—

and zuko is in shock apparently, but he snaps out of it with “okay let me get you wrapped up, oh god that sounds so bad, let me treat your tattoo and ring everything up and say all the precautionary health stuff that you already know so i can take my break and then we’ll see” and that’s what they do!!!

when zuko’s break is up, iroh exits into the back alley to find sokka has pushed zuko up against the wall and they’re making out, didn’t even notice iroh coming outside. of course, iroh is an embarrassing uncle and goes “ah zuko, i assume this is the competition?”

to which zuko draws back and thumps his head into sokka’s shoulder, not letting sokka back up more than an inch. “uncle go away i’m busy” “ah yes, i can see that. is this a new method of exchanging trade secrets?” “uncle.”

sokkas chuckling breathlessly as iroh hums and goes back inside. “trade secrets huh?”

(katara is infuriated that sokka loves his new tattoo, especially since it clearly shows that zuko’s an amazing tattoo artist. aang wants to meet him and learn from him like NOW, suki wants to recruit him, and toph thinks they’re dating. she isn’t wrong, but sokka bribes her to shut up so katara doesn’t find out)

#ellie writes #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic #avatar the last airbender fanfic #zukka #zukka fanfic #concept #zuko #sokka #zuko and sokka #ik this isnt great but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#i enjoy it #tattoo artist zuko!!#is it obvious that i dont do relationships in real life hahaha #i cant write flirting at all its a mess #oh well #enjoy hopefully!!#atla fanfic idea

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miserablesme · 3 years

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 1: Barbican Previews

Hello everyone! I'm starting out a blog which will look at my favorite musical, Les Miserables, and will discuss the various changes it has gone through over time (musically and lyrically). As it turns out, a LOT of edits have been made over the years so this will doubtless be a series with several parts.

This first part may well be the most difficult and will almost certainly be the most incomplete, as previews can be a time of extensive editing and experimentation. At least for the first few weeks or so, it's perfectly possible any one day of previews will be slightly different than any other day. However, I only have access to two audios from the Barbican Theatre previews of Les Miserables, meaning it's likely that lyrical variants exist which I have no way of hearing.

I am aware of the existence of a third audio which is fairly early in the run of previews, as the tape's master has told me that Gavroche's death scene is in its original form (I'll clarify that later). However, that tape has never been traded, and has sadly only been listened to by its master. I am also aware of a video proshot of the Barbican era that exists in the Royal Shakespeare Company library, but currently have no access to it. I plan to inquire about whether I can look at it sometime (though I'm not sure a blog like this is "official" enough to warrant it for research purposes). As such, this comparison only entails the two widely circulated audios from the Barbican run.

Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's get started!

First, let's look at the opening "Work Song". In the earlier recording I have (let's call it R1), the beginning music (the same tune used, for instance, at the opening of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More" and for Marius and Cosette's meeting in "The Robbery") stops. Then, a few moments later, the more familiar opening that leads directly into the prologue begins. By the time of the later recording I have (let's call it R2), the scores have been combined so that the first tune directly transitions into the second one.

Meanwhile, in R1 there is a sequence of lines that goes as follows:

I've done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn't care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn't worth your life

I know she'll wait

I know that she'll be true

Look down, look down

She's long forgotten you

Most fans of the musical recognize the middle sequence of lines ("I killed a man" through "She wasn't worth your life") as no longer being lines in the show (for good reason, as we'll get into in a later edition of this blog). However, R2 keeps the lines. Instead, it deletes the third sequence ("I know she'll wait" through "She's long forgotten you"). I have no idea if this lasted only a few performances or made it all the way to the end of the Barbican run, or somewhere in between.

During "On Parole", specifically after Valjean is underpaid for his labor and sings about his frustration, R1 uses a variation of the "Work Song" theme which, to my recollection, is heard nowhere else in the musical. It can be heard here. By R2, it was switched to an in-tune version of the number with a unique opening. The musical retains that version to this day, but in case you can't recall it you can hear it here.

Minus an unintentional line flub in "At the End of the Day" in R2, the two Barbican recordings seem to use the same libretto and score from this point until "The Runaway Cart". At this point, R1 has a rather extensive scene leading up to Valjean saving Fauchelevent, which goes approximately as follows (the dialog is difficult to make out):

(VALJEAN)

Is there anyone here who will rescue the man?

Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart?

I will pay any man thirty louis d’or more

I will do it myself if there’s no one who will

We can’t let him die like that down in the street

Can you all watch him die and do nothing at all?

(FAUCHELEVENT)

Don’t approach me, Monsieur Mayor

The cart’s not gonna be holding

Not my poor mother would care if I should die

(TOWNSPEOPLE)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

The old man's a goner for sure

Leave him alone

Most of that dialog is deleted in R2, so that it goes directly from "Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart" to "Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor". I really like the idea of the original version; it seems reasonable that Valjean, having become a more trusted man, would expect the townspeople to help him. It's more meaningful that Valjean is good enough to do what's right when there's more time to establish that no one else is. Having said that, the original version did take quite a while and didn't really contain any relevant information that wasn't in the final version. I think the cut version as heard in R2 is a good compromise and retains the general mood and pacing to make Valjean's ultimate action satisfying (something that can't be said of later cuts, as will be discussed in a future edition of this blog).

Additionally, at the end of the number Javert refers to "the mark upon his skin" in R1 and "the brand upon his skin in R2 (as well as literally every subsequent performance since then to my knowledge). I have no idea if the "mark" line was a minor flub or was actually the original lyric.

"Who Am I?" is an interesting one. The musical content is identical in R1 and R2, but in R1 after his high note, Valjean shouts "You know where to find me!" with emotion so dramatic it sits right on the border between awesome and campy. By contrast, Valjean is totally silent after his high note in R2. Neither version would see its final day just yet, although the latter certainly has become more traditional over time. More on that in future editions.

From this point until "Master of the House" everything is the same between the two recordings. Roger Allam even comes in slightly late in both "Confrontation" scenes (making his line "-jean, at last...")! However, in the opening to "Master of the House" the following lines occur in R1:

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of dissolutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores

Spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons flying in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain't got a clue what he put into his stew

Must've scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must've pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

All of those lines would be scrapped in R2. Personally I prefer this shortened variant than the one that would occur much later. Sure, some fun moments get lost, but nothing that actually adds any substance or characterization to the musical (unlike the later cut, which I'll discuss in a later edition of this blog). Some have speculated that this is simply lost dialog due to a tape flip of degrading, given that future performances would retain those lines. However, there is firsthand confirmation that the cuts were in fact part of the performance. To quote Trevor Nunn on page 87 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables (a page which elaborates that "the cost of overtime incurred after three hours could be crippling at a time when Les Miserables was still trying to find an audience"):

"Cameron wanted major cuts, which would have reduced its length to two and a half hours. I resisted, refusing to discuss things on those terms... Some of the other proposed cuts - like the removal of the "Master of the House" scene-setting preamble - were tried out in previews and then restored as the scenes would not work without them."

From a historical perspective that quote is invaluable. As will be brought up in a later blog post (notice a pattern today?) the musical would in fact be cut much later to avoid overtime charges. When people like myself have expressed the opinion that these cuts come at the expense of artistic integrity, I've seen others defend them by claiming that the overtime costs never were relevant to Cameron and the gang until Broadway sales began to go down, and that if they were taken into account the musical may well be in its shortened form from the beginning. However, this quote proves that argument to be false. Right from day one, the crew was aware that retaining a >3 hour runtime would come with severe financial costs, but this was deemed a worthy sacrifice in order to tell the story they wanted told. Indeed, it sounds like Cameron Mackintosh was waiting quite some time to enact his infamous cuts! (Cameron Mackintosh valuing profit above art?! Crazy, right??)

But I digress. Going back to the musical, the "Waltz of Treachery" number is mostly the same. However, after Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" line, R1 has over a minute of wordless vamping which leads right into the rather awkwardly-placed "Stars" song. By contrast, in R2 this vamping (which is still a minute long, mind you) leads into a humming duet between Little Cosette and Valjean, similar to the duet right before the number. A nice little bookend that makes the scene feel all the more resolved. (Much later this duet reprise would ironically be scrapped again, though!) The remaining segment of R1's vamping now plays after this sequence in R2.

Minus some unintentional missed lines at the beginning of "Stars" in R1, the recordings seem to follow the same libretto right up until "One Day More". Here, R1 uses the following lines:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

Was there ever love so true?

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

However, by R2 this scene is in its current form:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

And I swear I will be true

And that closes act one! Going on to the second act, the opening barricade scene has a few changes. First off, following the opening notes, R1 features a rather odd tune bearing resemblance to "Do You Hear the People Sing" (which can be heard here) before transitioning to a more true-to-form instrumental reprise of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" By contrast, R2 goes straight from the opening notes to the true-to-form reprise.

Next, Enjolras proclaims "Have faith in yourself and do not be afraid" in R1, while in R2 he instead states "Every man to his duty and don't be afraid". It's unknown if this was an intentional libretto change or if it simply reflects a flub during R1. A later sequence uses the "Have faith in yourself" line, meaning he may have just sung the wrong line for that particular scene.

Finally, R1 includes the following sequence (at least I think this is how it goes, since the lyrics are a little hard to hear):

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And join with you

Who gives a speech in the square

Fortunately, R2 uses a much less clunky (though still somewhat so) sequence:

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And so they might

Some will bark, some will bite

This isn't quite its current form ("dogs" and "fleas" will soon respectively replace the two usages of "some"), but it's pretty darn close.

I've heard that the very first Barbican preview(s?) didn't have a finalized opening to "On My Own". Sadly there is no known audio record of this, so I cannot comment on what exactly it began as. As such, the next major change takes place during Gavroche's death scene. This honestly is probably the biggest of all the changes between the two recordings. R1 uses the following death scene (in the tune of "Look Down" right up until the "So never kick a dog" verse, which is in the tune of "Little People"):

How do you do, my name’s Gavroche

These are my people, here’s my patch

Not much to look at, nothing posh

Nothing that you’d call up to scratch

Some fool, I bet, whose brains are made of fat

Picks up a gun and shoots me down

Nobody told him who he’s shooting at

He doesn’t know who runs this town

Life’s like that

There’s some folk

Missed the joke

That’s three, that’s three

That one has done for me

Too fast, too fast

They’ve got Gavroche at last

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You better run for cover when the pup grows...

By contrast, R2 uses a much shorter variant which is set entirely to the tune of "Little People":

And little people know

When little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog

Because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give...

This is much closer to its current form, although the last two lines are inverted (we'll get to that in a later edition).

We now fast-forward to "Dog Eats Dog", which while recognizable is very different from the number we know today. The chorus of R1 claims that "It's a dirty great sewer that's crawling with rats", which R2 changes it to "stinking great sewer" instead. I'd definitely say the revised lyric better captures Thenardier's and the sewer's grossness.

Additionally, regarding Marius' ring, Thenardier originally exclaims that he "didn't mean to waste it, that would really be a crime". By R2, the line changes to "wouldn't want to waste it", which I'd say makes a lot more sense.

"Javert's Suicide" has changed a lot. R1 features the following remarks following "Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life":

Damned if I live in this caper of grace

Damned if I live in the debt of Valjean

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

Is this the law or has sanity gone?

(I'm a little unsure as to how accurate the final line is.)

By R2, the lines have been replaced with the current ones:

Damned if I live in the debt of a thief

Damned if I yield at the end of the chase

I am the law and the law is not mocked

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

In R1, the "Where's the new world, now the fighting's done" line is absent, and there is nothing but instrumentals in the segment where it is usually sung. By contrast, it is sung as usual in R2. My guess is that an actress simply forgot her line in R1 and it was always supposed to be there, though I can't say for sure.

The final change occurs at the wedding scene. The singing which opens the number is repeated in R1. By contrast, R2 has it sung once and then done with, as it currently is (and as it should be in my opinion, since the music isn't particularly pretty and contributes nothing to the plot).

Later in the same scene, R1 includes approximately this exchange (again, it's quite hard to make out the exact lyrics):

(THENARDIER)

I was there

Never fear

Even got me this fine souvenir

He was there

Her old dad

*indecipherable* and fleecing this lad

Robbed the dead

That's his way

(MME. THENARDIER)

That's worth five hundred any old day

(MARIUS)

I know this...

By R2, everything between "He was there" and "Any old day" were removed, which makes sense given that they essentially just rehash what was already said.

Finally, there's a subtle difference in the epilogue, specifically during the "Do You Hear the People Sing?" reprise. In R1, the ensemble sings "They will live again in glory in the garden of the Lord". R2 replaces the word "glory" with "freedom", and that word remains the one used to this day. I suppose "freedom" is more appropriate for the context of peace and prosperity. To many, I'd guess that "glory" conjures imagery of knights, battles, and the like; just the kind of violence that the characters wish to move away from! I have no idea if this was why the writers changed the lyric, but it's my hypothesis.

Towards the end of the show, the chorus in R1 sings "Even the darkest moon will end and the sun will rise". By R2, this is changed to "the darkest night". Makes more sense to me, since moons aren't known for being particularly dark!

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what's commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I'd love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye...

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lala-ladybug · 3 years

Text

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

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