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stray-tori · 3 years

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It’s over! *party* - now it’s time for

Merlab bonus insight/rambling! ^^/

Okay, so here I will be talking about various things related to the mermay au, that didn’t make it into the final “story”/version.

Original draft - My original draft was sorta like this:

It started out as the very last scene of them parting but originally there was way less bonding and Emma just left without any drama, they still locked hands though pff-

Emma loved her freedom more than she cared about Norman, it’d be a sort of “eyy cool, okay let’s lock hands - byee!” deal.

Here’s a drawing I did in 2019, back when Merlab wasn’t a comic but just standalone drawings sduhdsj - it never came to be posted because Merlab escalated, but it would be their original reunion.

have more doodles:

Things that I probably didn’t convey properly but want to point out:

Emma can easily pull Norman into the tank earlier in the story, but on p137 she’s too weak to even drag him further down (he can stop the movement/being dragged) due to the sleep siren and the tranquilizer arrow.

Ray has a higher resistance to Isabella’s lullaby because he’s her biological child. He can also use the siren song ability (as seen towards the end).

Mers communicate per high-frequency sounds that humans usually cannot hear or just barely hear.

Things that got scrapped/changed along the way:

Emma was first going to only talk at the end and surprise the shit outta Norman. Basically her only line in the entire thing was “Norman will be killed” or something along those lines. It was supposed to be implied that she could learn the language simply by listening to the other people talk.

edit: i found my original sketch of this!

Originally p89 was going to be a very long scrolling page where Norman would go through and debunk some plans (which were all plans I came up with and scrapped because they didn’t seem plausible anymore) - I actually don’t remember why I scrapped this, I think I wanted to avoid too many unnecessary monologues.

The co-worker was not Don originally, he would just be some random dude.

Originally, Norman was going to encounter not-don-coworker dude and be confronted by him. And end up shooting him. With the “flood the facility”-plan came my realization I’d have to scratch that encounter, which I was happy to do, because Don doesn’t deserve to get killed in an au and because action is impossible anyway :’D

Oh yeah Norman was originally gonna steal a gun and be a little more. uhm. wild. But then I figured if Norman had a gun, the guards must have guns and guns are kinda useless underwater so I scrapped that.

Gilda was originally not in the au at all, but when I changed it so that Norman could physically not enter the tank room, but then had him use two id cards later, I needed a 2nd id card from someone. So Gilda came to enter. I also figured she’d maybe help Isabella, like the older girls do in the anime, and therefore has access to more things.

Oh yeah: Isabella was the head of the facility before I switched it to Krone. I think you can still sort of tell in some of Krone’s reactions because I didn’t change MUCH of the storyboard even after the switch. I changed it because of the Isabella/Ray thing and because I really liked the idea of her lullaby being a siren song.

Originally, the mermaids could only talk per very high frequency sounds, which basically meant they had a sort of telepathy thing going on. The language parts actually came in fairly late, it was more of a short idea, originally Norman was just going to try to learn their “language” but I kinda wanted to give her a name and then that was developed a bit more.

Emma has pretty quick healing! (Mers in general do) - therefore it’s kind of implied that the chest bandages are more an act of decency/respect/human moral, from some point forward. Technically, they wouldn’t care about that as soon as Norman doesn’t take care of her anymore, but I didn’t know how to portray that without limiting myself, artwise, so. I ignored that.

I thought a lot about what the facility’s goal actually is. I’m not actually sure what I ended up hinting/going with throughout the story because my brain is a mess, but there were times where I was thinking of going fully into the realms of human modification or using them in wars or similar - but I wanted the language aspect to be viable so I kind of wishy-washy’ied what purpose the research is actually for.

At some point Emma lashing out on page 53 was much more extreme: She’d try to drown Norman (mirroring the one time she pulled him in playfully), but I couldn’t really find a way to make that believable after how much they’d bonded at that point. Norman would either use a recording of the lullaby (upsetting her more) or try to stab her - he’d then try to make the guards not harm her, since they’d actually come in to immobilize her.

But basically her saving him later during the escape was supposed to be the narrative “comeback” / mirror continuation of that! It still works with the book I feel, personally, but there’s just a lot of mess and missed potential in general hhh-

What happens now?

Originally, Norman was going to be actually shown alive/experimented on, and their separation would be outside (but that made little sense so I scrapped it), and Norman was going to obtain some mer characteristics.

Basically he’d have scales, could hear the mers’ frequency (and talk it after a while, even though Emma just uses human speech sometimes to help him) and could breath underwater, but have no actual fin.

About the high frequency: Norman starts to be able to hear it after he transforms, but at first it's just a mixture of random signals he can't quite make out but as he starts to get it more, I would have switched it to "normal" speech bubbles (first with random words, jumbled around) which I think makes sense visually? And I’m somewhat sad I didn’t get to do this.

For those of you who've seen my trio week mermaid art, that’s actually part of that plotline :)

(original post)

Norman can’t deal with the high frequencies at first and transforming in general hurts, his skin is melting and falling apart before it regenerates with more mer characteristics. Emma and later Ray do their best to comfort him! ^^

I scrapped that bc it would have been too long, and I didn’t know where to go with it ultimately. Plus, as the facility developed further, I didn’t think I could write a believable way for Emma and Ray to break him out of there. Though now that Gilda and Don got more sympathetic and bigger roles, they’d probably solve that problem if I tried.

I won’t create this because I don’t have the energy to, but have a barebones plot outline: 1. Norman is a half-mer now 2. Don and Gilda find out somehow 3. 4. Profit, I mean Freedom!

Other fun concepts: 5. Norman goes to the shore to burn the fish they give him bc he will nOT EAT RAW FISH (Ray is fascinatedTM)

6. Emma is like "now we're like the book!" at some point! I found this really cute and wanted to do it at the time, but I’ve grown away a bit from this brand of shipping them. But have the notes I did for the interaction!

Emma: [now we're like the book!] Norman: /// ... Norman :) Norman: *gradles her hair* Norman: Yeah.

“Norman…” “Yeah?” “In book, thing human and mer mouths…” Norman: /// “Why?” Emma: *tilts her head* “Can Noamon and Emma?” Norman: uhm… [Only for… love] <- high frequency convo, it’s less embarrassing than saying it out loud Emma: …? Norman: Uhmm…. Procreation? <- an attempt to have Ray not hear it if he’s near Emma: blink blink Norman: ///// Emma: Noa gwud? Norman: You can it’s just— *peck* Norman: blinks, then chuckles

Ray, coming in: [Are you feeding Halfmer???] Emma: [It’s a hooman thing!! It’s very weird] Norman: soul has officially left his body Arrow pointing at Ray: actually very curious about human culture but won’t admit it

Merlab 2.0

If I did this comic now, I would update a bit of the mer lore. I would make it a research facility, which experimented on mystical creatures / “demons” and their shifting capabilities and applied them to humans, or something like that, and mers basically being a byproduct of that.

I would make Peter the head of the facility instead of Krone and Isabella a former test subject that got killed when Ray and Emma escaped. That way most of her stuff would stay somewhat intact. Emma would also have a reason to try and go back there more to investigate and potentially save everyone else or something like that, and Ray is more cynical and just wants to keep her safe. I would probably also try to utilize more aggressive/active Emma better in the beginning before they bond more. I’d also try to stay more grounded than I did and tone down the romantic hints a bit more, and try to integrate Ray more / show what he tries to do.

well I hope some of this was insightful / fun to read! ^^/

#tpn #tpn au #tpn fanart #merlab au #my shtuff #tori talks #tori's disowned art

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sourbat · 3 years

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in love with an idea of magnus actually being a decent artist. although most of his drawings range from confusing to fucking creepy. but let the guy cope, i say.

How very lovely. I really enjoy how this can double as something cathartic or therapeutic, depending on the situation. I’m also pretty much into Magnus being a sort of “jack of all trades” like Pickles, a runaway who had to develop various skills to get by when needed, and picked up a variety of talents throughout the years.

Given that early demos often had covers that were hand-written and/or drawn, there could be some lost demos of Hammersmith music with worn, faded covers depicting rancid, decomposing corpses, disembowelments, and the ever popular “hands clawing and successfully ripping one’s face to shreds” artwork. There could also be journals that are supposed to be filled with lyrics and notes, instead are lined with sketches, some gruesome, others not so much. Maybe there’s a worn, faded picture of one of the guys, a doodle of some random bird he caught hanging by the window, or stick figures edges hard into the recycled sheets after trying, but failing to come up with anything concrete for the band.

His relationship with his own art would be rather complex. I headcanon him as living with mental illnesses, and depression, a short attention span, and an ugly voice telling him he’s not worth it half the time would no doubt affect his ability to create. It’s a damn shame, too, because during such long, empty periods, what art he created was likely so detailed, so painfully raw in depicting what he felt…and he probably threw it all away.

Depending on where he is in his life, whether he’s on survival mode, or more inclined towards rest, Magnus likely kept his work hidden away from prying eyes. I can see him sharing the publicly accepted work with most, but keeping certain things to himself, either out of fear of accusations of being weird, or because he just doesn’t want to share “his image.” A more comfortable Magnus would likely still be rather possessive and protective of his art, but might be persuaded to show a few of the nicer sketches to the right person.

I do ship magtok, so naturally I want to apply this to their dynamic. I separate their relationship in stages, and while I don’t see early Magnus sharing his work with Toki, I think once he starts opening, communicates better, regularly takes his meds and actively tries therapy (he’s very on and off about it), that he’ll at least have some notebooks and journals that end up with doodles and the like scattered about. It starts slow, with Magnus again only showing Toki what he thinks Toki will want to see, and eventually works his way to a few other pictures. He doesn’t show everything to Toki, and Toki is ok with that. Everyone needs their privacy after all, but appreciates the few sketches Magnus shows him, and the fewer he was comfortable enough to hand to Toki. Even though Magnus limits himself to the most traditional form, which means smudges are likely to occur (especially with the older ones), and some of the pictures Toki owns are incomplete (hard to finish even the nicest things when you’re feeling off), he still takes good care of them. Toki doesn’t show the work to anyone else. He knows better than to, and quite frankly, doesn’t feel like sharing them with the guys.

Whether it’s a penciled sketch of a bleached skull being consumed by nature’s beauty, or some gnarled, twisted impression of Magnus, suffering and inked heavily with a pen, Toki does his best to say something nice about it. Because Magnus had the balls to show him, and you bet he’s going to let Magnus know his work, no matter how off it might seem, is still worthwhile. All art is.

#Thank You #magnus hammersmith #toki wartooth #headcanon tag thing #I guess?#magtok #hammertooth

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ashengrottoes · 4 years

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so uh. ships for my ocs huh

i’ve been sort of stewing on these for a while because i dunno. i just didn’t want to say anything bc im an idiot but all i can say is that these weren’t. supposed to happen. i just kind of toss ocs places and see what happens and then maybe somewhere along the way it hits me that uh. maybe there’s something else going on here. they’re with canon characters and somehow i dont think it’ll be surprising which ones they are considering my biases are p clear. so here’s some sketches and a bit of exposition to kind of explain things and describe the relationship itself. yeah. so here goes.

This is likely going to be a lot of exposition so i’m gonna put all of it below the cut. Don’t like this sort of thing? Just keep scrolling thanks. also the images are sketches because im tired leave me alone

Larghetta and Azul

Legit. How. How the fuck. I mean I know y’all are experienced with Azul’s behavior but Larg is very close to being a pretty drastic opposite considering he’s pretty restrained and usually does not like being touched (I personally view Azul as a very hands-on/touchy-feely person). They’re both pretty smart so I kind of saw them butting heads over a fair bit of stuff but also having a degree of respect for one another?? Especially considering they’re coworkers. But I guess nOT so here’s this. Where do I start. Ah yes. It legit took Azul like. Four months to properly ask Larghetta out because he does that thing where he skirts around the point and Larghetta is romantically stupid so you need to be straight to the point with him about this kind of stuff or he’ll miss it entirely. It was bad. The eels had fun making fun of Azul. After the fact they’re.....surprisingly soft?? Larg still shows absolutely no mercy during work hours but afterwards he’s fine with some quiet time with cuddles and maybe some tea or coffee. Gives his attention whore of a boyfriend the attention he wants through a lot of verbal affection and maybe a few kisses. Azul is a lot more physical because he just likes touching and doing things like playing with Larg’s hair and hugging onto him. Sneak-attack hugs/kisses are a thing with these two, as well as kind of cute notes with doodles handed off between classes and some sappy texts. It’s a kind of love through really enjoying each other’s company and being able to do things like discuss all sorts of stuff in depth.

As a funny side-note when Larg off-handedly mentioned he had a boyfriend for the first time, people automatically assumed that the boyfriend was Jade. It surprised a lot of people when they found out it was Azul.

Rue and Jade

This one is a little bit more understandable, but Rue was really just supposed to be everyone’s mom and not actually have any sort of romantic fixings on anyone. Unfortunately for me I forgot Jade is also mom and as a result these two ended up on sort of the same wavelength. This has resulted in awkward mutual feelings for one another but neither acting of them because of the seemingly inevitable idea that Rue will eventually have to return home. They don’t talk about that fact either. They just sit down and talk about random things or talk about plants and definitely try to ignore the fact that they’d like to be more than friends. floyd hates this and likes to accuse of them of “eating face” when all they’re going is having a conversation over tea.

Well. That’s all of this. Idk you’re welcome to ask about it more if you wish?? Just be courteous, ect thanks.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #larghetta sonore #rue #ring rambles #god kill me now why don't you

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mcrmadness · 3 years

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Finally at my parents house I had all three: I was bored, remembered about my old art AND had motivation and time for start browsing my old art.

My mom has boxes full of our old art in her clothes closet and it’s like, full of stuff. I wonder where did I get my mild hoarding habits :DD So anyway, yesterday I just had this moment when I remembered about that box and made my way to the top of that closet (it’s very tiny and has small stairs and the boxes are at the back) and finally, again after years, I got to take a look at my old, old artwork :D

There’s everything from between the ages 7 and 13, I think. I have my “best” old arkwork here at home, I have put them in folders back when I still lived with my parents but that box is mostly drawings that I had no place to store so my mom brought in these boxes for each of us and we would then put all the old drawings there. There were lots of drawings I didn’t remember about anymore but also lots of drawings I did remember. I didn’t browse all of that yet - I’m gonna continue from that tomorrow - but I found lots and lots and lots of stuff that was me desperately trying to create something that would become comic book characters. I know for sure I created my first comic book characters when I was about 9 or 10 years old and I found papers ABOUT these characters and I thought I already had all that here. Since I have all of my “comic book history” saved. I have all the notebooks with those comics here, but didn’t realize I had so much more back at my parents’ house. (And there’s also lots and lots of dinosaur drawings. Most of them seems to have text at the back - I drew them for my dad with a little one-phrase story of what’s happening. It was usually always a dinosaur parent and their kid(s) wandering to somewhere to eat and drink. I might have grown up with the Land Before Time movies...)

Also, to quote my brother: “I see why you like The Sims games.” because I kept creating families. I even created some random cat-anthropomorphic family (I’d quess I was 8-9 years old based on my drawing style) and there were probably 10 papers of that family alone, of them dressed up in summer clothes and winter clothes. Them as a bit older. Then again bit older. And then much older. And I think eventually there were even a new generation in the last papers.

The most interesting one was probably the stuff I did at the last year of that art school I went to as a hobby once a week after school, I attended it for about 5-7 years. The reason for why I wanted to take a look at that box was because I remembered I had some of my old artwork and “sketchbooks” from the art school there and I was curious to know if I really learn a thing in there because the only things I remember from art school is that I had troubles staying in the class because of my concentration problems. I’d have rather been running around the hallways and investigating places with my cousin (who sometimes had to kinda hold me back by saying that we really can’t do that since we’re supposed to do arts here).

I just checked that diploma I got from the art school and it seems that I did in total 4 school years (240 hours) of that at first - this is dated to 2003 when I was 12. And I continued it the next year but it was a differen’t group, it was about drawing and painting, whereas these first 4 years were about the basics of art in general. I don’t remember if I finished with the 5th year or if I already started the 6th, I just remember I was in junior high and I was starting to lose my interest towards the art school. I think it was the 5th year because that year I got more into horses and started my new horse hobby (that eventually led into me becoming a professional equine groomer many years later).

BUT ANYWAY, I noticed I am very good at analyzing my art and handwriting and could use that to track the art to correct years as I didn’t often have any dates written on stuff, but just based on my comic style (as I just had to include these doodles _everywhere!), I was able to tell that “yes, I drew this one when I was 12, for sure!” And I was right. I estimated that this one acrylic painting I did was from when I was about 11 or 12 or so, and I found the “sketchbook” and I actually had written quite a nice story there. Very cliché, but I really liked the writing style, especially for it being written by someone who was only 11-12 at the time. The sketchbook’s cover said IV which means it was tha last year of the basic education aka I indeed was 11-12 when I did all that.

Then my brother found some huge drawing that had drawings that looked like something I used to draw, I didn’t even remember about them anymore but I told him that those look exacty like what I did when I was 12 or 13. He also found some huge unfinished drawing that was done with charcoal and I didn’t recognize it, I had no memory of it so I said it’s probably something by my mom because I doubt I had such good drawing skills back then. Then I found a sketch book for that course and based on the comics again, I said it’s probably from when I was 12 or 13. And then I found the sketch of that CHARCOAL DRAWING. So it IS mine, after all? I don’t remember doing it at all, but it looks actually really good and I can’t believe it’s me who has drawn that. I also found a painting and the sketch for that painting from the sketchbook, and I couldn’t say if I used oil paints or acrylics on that. Somehow I have a feeling that it was oil paint but really the only thing I remember from that is how we built the frames on our own and stapled the fabric on it to really do the whole painting from scratch, like literally. The painting itself is not that good - I have never really been a painter. I’m more of a drawer - pencils, colored pencils and fineliners are my thing. I like details and small pictures, and paintings were always so big and huge things and hard to come up with anything because my details still were too small for painting. I like when I have full control over things I do and I could never achieve that with paint, I just never really understood how to work with that - watercolors, acrylic or oil - and I ended up actually hating that because I always only made a mess, and I kinda got an overdose from all that painting because I never really liked it but it felt like it was the only thing we ever did, or that we did that a lot more often than just regular drawing.

I also found some drawing I had done with pencils and I don’t know if it was for regular school or the art school, and it had no year or class number on it, it looked actually pretty good and I really liked how I had worked with the shadows. The human character looked like it didn’t belong into the picture, without him I’d have guessed it was from when I was maybe even 13 but with him I’d say I was rather 11. But it’s so weird because I had drawn there a tiny abandoned house, and the whole drawing was very abstract with some sort of weird cloud, and all that looked so much more “professional” than the human figure. So I have no idea when or where or what was that for, but I’d love to know what was the story behind that. It looked like some serious assignment.

Anyhow, I think I will take out that box tomorrow (or actually today as it’s 7am and I should be sleeping already) because my dad asked if we can browse the drawings together, and that could be lots of fun too. I really want to bring the box to home eventually. There’s so much interesting stuff and lots of memories in those drawings, and I think I might want to take photos of some of the most interesting ones.

#under the cut because it got very long again and idk if people are interested on seeing such wall of text on their dashes #but it's very important topic for me - especially now as I have been hyperfixating on arts for the past 2-3 weeks nonstop #on Monday I'm going to a book store to buy more art supplies - I need stuff because I've basically been studying art stuff now #from youtube videos because... hyperxiations - hyperfixations everywhere.#So you're not gonna get rid of my art ramble posts anytime soon. Maybe I will post art one day too. I just hate doing that on Tumblr since #people don't seem to be interested in art unless it looks like it was made by superhumans. And it really really triggers my rsd and I'm #a lot better off with not posting my art than posting it to see no notes. That will just make me feel like I should quit because what's the #point in making art if you cannot share it with anyone? I want to show it to people. And it makes me sad when people are just like #'no I cannot see it *scrolls past*' like... yeah. I'll keep them in my drawers and folders then. At least I can live from that euphoria I #feel when my artwork pleases me and won't have the rsd to ruin it by telling me I suck at everything just because people don't want #to see arts on this website...#arts #drawing #long post #mcrmadness’ art talk

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lumilasi · 4 years

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Birthday + Family Secrets musings

So my birthday is next monday, and I was supposed to celebrate it this week early, as the day it actually is I’m supposed to be back to my studies. Sadly I got unlucky with that plan because me and my IRL friends couldn’t meet up due to conflicting schedules, and my family was sick with flu (+ one was recovering from mild surgery) which kinda sucked as I was looking forward to seeing my friends or doing other birthday traditions I have with my fam.

I’d still like to celebrate somehow; I was planning on drawing a celebratory picture like last year (the one shitpost-y thing where Dabi and Tomura presented me very questionable cake lmao) but I also wondered if I could do something else instead; something to involve my readers/followers and such as I am in fact very grateful to all the people who have decided my random doodles, scribbles and drabbles are actually worth their attention. Hearing that a chapter update has helped someone through their day or otherwise bad times is always heartwarming. Let alone when some get inspired by my stories and write their own.

I don’t know what exactly; I could hold another drawing contest, though I’m uncertain about that one given I’d rather not have something that takes so long. Another idea was that maybe I could do like ’color your sketch” thing where people could sketch out stuff inspired by my fics or so, and then I color it for you.

Personally I like the sketch idea myself, namely because it would perhaps be easiest for me to do without having to have longer waiting times, though I’d maybe have to put some sort of limit on how many I’ll do if I get a lot.

Or maybe something else? Art raffle? Brief request session? (Both with obvious limitations of course)

I honestly dunno yet lmao

Anyway, to the other thing

It seems I just can’t escape the curse of making sequels, as I’m considering making one (or two) for Family Secrets. Then again, I’ve done this with my previous two big fics (Reanimate and Crossroads) so maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised...

If I do the sequels, it’s gonna be pretty interesting as it’ll somewhat change the context of the original fic’s planned ending. I can’t really explain what that means though, as it’s a huge spoiler heh. All I can say about the sequels is that they would be timed in the future, where Tenko and Izuku are their canonical ages.

The interesting thing about this is though...you don’t necessarily have to read the sequels, given the ending I’m gonna do would work as an ending as it is. In hindsight when it comes to my previous serialized fics, their endings were pretty open in a way. This one somehow manages to be both open and closed the same time.

.....I think. At least from my perspective.

Obviously I can’t tell how the reader will take it lmao

Fun fact: two of my readers (who are also my friends) already know what the ending is, as well as what I’ve planned for the potential sequel. Both have kinda helped me a little with this sequel thing, like decide if I’ll do it in the first place, and also the ending for FS itself as I was actually struggling to decide which one to use from the ones I had in mind.

IDK felt like sharing this behind the scenes plotting with you all.

#random musings #fic musings #birthday #it was just really bad timing with everything really #both my friends being too busy due to work #and my parents and bro being sick #Let alone my birthday not even being during the holiday week like it used to #that last one relates to how our week-long springtime break is on a different week #depending on where in our country you live

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tora-the-cat · 5 years

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Cats and Dogs (kakayama soulmate drabble)

He couldn't say when they started. Honestly, he never paid all that much attention to his arms. Maybe, if his soulmate was less...enthusiastic then he never would have noticed.

Alas, the universe is not so kind as to simply let him give up on any hope for some sort of meaningful bond. No, instead it decides to throw him a bone. Too late, he tried to convince himself, squash that spark of hope that had lit with the sight of the intricate but uniform roots being sketched up and down his right arm. Part of him scrambled to force him to shove it out of mind, resign himself to long sleeves and getting dressed with no mirrors, but another part couldn't look away as flowers were added to the pattern.

He wondered how long they'd been doing this, how long it had taken him to notice in between ANBU death-squad missions and deppressions lastings weeks at a time. He couldn't clearly recall the last time he looked in a mirror. For how long had he missed this?

Finally, with much effort, he ripped his eye away from his arm, forcing himself to move forward. He had a mission, and could not afford to be distracted. His hope was bottled up and shoved even deeper then most other emotions, too dangerous to be allowed to resurface. He shook his head, slipped on his ANBU mask, and abandoned all thoughts of roots and flowers and soulmates.

He had a mission.

They probably weren't supposed to know about Soulmates. It wasn't information Danzo had given them, so they probably weren't supposed to know. The thought that thy knew anyway filled them with a cocktail of shame and giddiness, But it's not like they could unlearn it.

They had been on a mission, told to keep a perimeter and take guard position as their ROOT partner went to interrogate whoever Danzo sent them out to. Kinoe knew better then to question it. They leaned against a book stand, picked up a random book to look more at place, and started to actually read it when they had been waiting for hours. Patience was something they was still working on.

'Soulmates For Dummies!" The title proclaimed, catching Kinoe's interest, and it was all down hill from there. They tried not to appear distracted when their partner finished and they went back to ROOT HQ, and probably did well enough because no one questioned them, but they didn't sleep at all that night.

Soulmates. Almost everyone had one. It is someone who's soul matched your own, often with a matching or mirroring chakra signature to your own. The skin served as a canvas that connected two people, though words could not be shared through it for reasons unknown. It is said that, if done right, knowing, dating, or even just being around your soulmate would make you feel more complete. It was everything Kinoe secretly wanted but knew better then to wish for, because it would interfere with Danzo's plans. Nothing, especially not Kinoe's personal interest, was worth compromising that.

Still, they couldn't help drawing on their arm. They doodled lines and smiles and cute things, but never got a reply form their soulmate. They almost gave up. It was possible that they didn't have a soulmate, or their soulmate was dead. It was possible that they did something to offend their soulmate and now their soulmate hated them; they didn't know enough about the sensibilities of others, mainly tried to mimic behavior. Maybe there was some unspoken Soulmate-drawing etiquette they were breaking, and now their soulmate hated them?

The thought made them feel a little hollow, and they couldn't tell if it was worse to think the other was dead, didn't exist, or just hated them. In the end they kept drawing, clinging to a desperate hope that they'd get a response. It was all they really had. They illustrated things they liked. Mostly plant life in a satisfyingly ordered fashion that plant life so rarely inhibited.

Sometimes, though, they still drew cute things they saw, things that they hoped would make their soulmate smile or forgive them or respond. Things like that cute animal with claws and eyes that seemed to glow, fur sleek and tail in the air, white whiskers contrasting it's brown face. Things like-

"Cat." Kakashi said, deadpanned, in his dark apartment. His pack, huddled around and atop him, all snapped to attention at the word. Kakashi was staring at his arm with what looked like disinterest to most, but his pack could see the anger clearly in the slightest quirk of his eyebrow. "They drew a Cat. On my hand." He sighed, going for exasperated but ending up closer to fond.

Today, by some miracle, he was having one of his very rare almost-good days. He had eaten all three meals, taken a shower, brushed his teeth, even got nearly six hours of sleep last night. He was more then ready for a wonderful night in with the pack, watching his mesmerizing arm illustrate itself and snuggling up with the only constant good in his life.

Tonight was such an almost-good day, in fact, that he had even considered, for maybe the third time in however long it had been since he noticed (he was pretty bad at keeping track of time these days), responding to the doodles with one of his own. He had been about to talk himself out of the thought again, when he finally recognized what his soulmate was drawing. A cat. On his hand. For however long it took to wash off; he didn't know, he had never tried before.

Bull growled, and Kakashi nodded. This simply could not stand. It was not something Kakashi could just leave be. It demanded action, more then anything else ever had.

Kakashi mumbled an order, an ink-soaked brush was placed in his waiting hand, and Kakashi started on the glorious portrait of a dog that looked almost exactly like a stick-figure Bull eating the realistic rendition of the disgusting feline.

He could feel Pakkun laughing at him, but Bull huffed in approval, so Pakkun could shove his critisism-

'Oh.' Kakashi realized with a start, watching his soulmate go crazy, using his shitty dog as an outline and improving the picture, 'Oh shit. I actually just. Did That.' He groaned, rubbing a hand to his face, smudging the ink.

Pakkun did not stop laughing until Bull tackled him, because Bull was actually loyal to Kakashi. Unlike, say, Shiba, who had stolen the ink well and was now dabbing pawprints onto Kakashi's skin, or Bisuke, who had grabbed his brush brush with his mouths when Kakashi wasn't looking and was now scribbling up and down his arm like a toddler left with nothing but blank walls and markers.

After thinking on it, he really couldn't find the energy to freak out, or even unsummon his pack so they'd stop. Instead he decided it was a problem for later (or maybe never) as he laid his head on Akino, who had slept through the entire debacle, and fell asleep, ignoring the slight chill of ink as his mischievous and malicious pack took advantage of his exhaustion. Definitely a problem for later.

#kakayamaweek2019 #kakayama #kakashi hatake #ANBU #tenzo #yamato #dogs #ninken #soulmate au

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nightingaletrash · 5 years

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🗒

It should surprise no one that I chose Evie for this because she is baby and I love her XD

----

[The journal looks relatively new, though the spine has been cracked and several pages have already been dogeared. The inner cover and first few pages are mostly littered with doodles and random reminders, and only then do actual entries begin to emerge.]

We’ll be arriving in Madrid soon which, according to Beckett, is a Sabbat city. Wonderful. Apparently his friend Lucita is the one in charge - she’s an Archbishop like that Tzimisce creep. Here’s hoping she either didn’t hear about LA or just won’t care. No idea how Beckett ended up friends with someone in the Sabbat, but then he makes friends with all sorts. I’m proof of that. She’s clan Lasombra, so best to watch myself around shadows.

Have I ever mentioned that Sabbat clans weird me out? The Nosferatu might be ugly as hell and can sneak around wherever they want, but they don’t go shapeshifting into weird monsters or make shadows rip your limbs off. So creepy. Beckett thinks it’s funny, but that’s because he’s a dick. Still, Sabbat aside, it’ll be cool to visit another city. I never dreamed of doing this much travelling when I was younger. One of the benefits of sticking with Beckett. Even if he is a dick.

[On the next page is a quick sketch of Beckett with a pair of wolf ears. It’s not intended to be flattering. The doodle is accompanied by a more detailed drawing of a beautiful dark haired woman surrounded by swirling shadows and tagged with the name Lucita de Aragón.]

Lucita’s interesting, I’ll give her that. She’s definitely not the nicest person I’ve ever met and she doesn’t care to be, but she gets shit done. Some hunters jumped us during a tour of the city and she literally tore them to shreds before me or Beckett could do anything. It’s like the shadows just came alive and did whatever she wanted without her even needing to think about it. Not even the Lasombra arsehole I ran into in LA could fight like that, and that fight was terrifying enough as it was. I’ve decided that I’ll make an effort to never be on her bad side if I can help it. Good thing I’m with Beckett. She might call him an idiot (and variations thereof), but she definitely cares about him even if he pisses her off.

I’ve just been told to make sure Lucita never sees that I’ve written that last part down or else there will be hell to pay. Thanks Beckett, but unlike you, I don’t leave my journal lying around for just anyone to read. And if you are reading this, then stop snooping or I’ll chew your shoes into little pieces.

I might not agree with everything Lucita does or how she sees things, but... well, she is pretty badass. And pretty, I guess. Honestly, I can’t help but be a little jealous of her. She’s just so... I dunno. Everything I didn’t get a chance to be, I guess.

[Below is an annotation in a different hand reading: That’s called having a crush, Young One. Do we need to have a Talk about this? Also, if you don’t want people reading your journal, maybe don’t leave it lying around -B. There is a reply from Evie, which reads: you try giving me the talk, and I’ll throw you out of the plane first chance I get. And I didn’t leave it lying around! Stay out of my stuff!]

Apparently a favourite sport of the Sabbat here in Madrid is football... But you kick around a mortal’s head instead of a ball. I gave it a hard pass and decided to explore the city myself while Beckett does some business with Lucita. I don’t think either of them fully trust me on my own though because I’m pretty sure Cesare’s been tailing me all night, though what he’s supposed to do if some shovelheads decide to give me the jump, I don’t know. He’s not exactly helpful in a fight after all.

Right now I’m just sitting outside a cafe and my tail is keeping an eye from nearby. It’s really tempting to give him the slip and explore by myself, but considering my history and infamous luck, it’s probably for the best that I don’t do that, even if it is really tempting. I guess I’ll just try to pretend that he’s not there and carry on as I intend to until I have to meet Beckett at the National Museum of Anthropology, or Museo Nacional de Antropología (see I can spell it).

[Your ability to spell was never in question, just your handwriting. It’s atrocious. -B]

Reminder: draw dicks in all of Beckett’s journals to remind him of what he is.

[I’m well aware that that’s exactly what I am. I’ve been told plenty of times -B]

#mudbloodedslytherin #vtmb #vtm #evie byrne #beckett #vtmb beckett #lucita de aragon #cesare #beckett would be That Person who nicks your journal and comments in it #and yes evie is a baby queer who's still figuring out she's bi-ace #she'll get there. eventually.

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comicteaparty · 5 years

Text

October 19th-October 25th, 2019 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from October 19th, 2019 to October 25th, 2019. The chat focused on the following question:

Describe your design process for new characters. How do you go about it?

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

Ohooh it is my time! First I draw a bunch of quick drawings of body and face We are a small team, so then we had discussions, we knew how they looked in general, sallly had to be small with curls etc. Then when the body was chosen it was time to draw outfits. Since we are doing a whole world we had to find out about what kind of clothing generally people would wear, what accessories, what does nobels and rich wear, contra poor, what is religious garments. Then the faces had to be chosen and drawn again. Then when all elements was in place, it was time for colors. For Lani, I did like 30 different versions of colors, ans combination before we found the right one. For side characters there has been only a few sketches, and since we knew the whole class system with clothing, it was easier to pick and match compared to place in society. Then thinking about the role the person have in society. Next is designing scientist, and that's going to be fun!

Line up if the finished designs of the main(edited)

Face exploration

[IMAGE]

More final clothing design

[IMAGE]

Color exploration

[IMAGE]

spacerocketbunny

Oh damn I love all this! I never thought of actually mapping out all the different classes religious/ non religious formal/ casual etc. That's so smart! And these designs are so cute ahhhh

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

aaw thanks! It was very important for us that it was clear to see! Since the man Andrée is a nobel, and Sallly was part of a crime gang, and Lani is a tempelgirl, and we do have a lot of different social groups

The Q - working on WAYFINDERS

And their homeland is very northern/Viking inspired. I'm very excited to show the other country in the story, which has a much more Mediterranean flavor!

Also yes @Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS is super impressive!

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

Aaaaaaaw you are too sweet!

AntiBunny

Process? Not so much a process as an idea forms in my subconscious and then like Athena rises fully formed in armor from my head. After that they will go through a few revisions. Usually they get simplified a bit, I try to make them a bit more iconic, and easier to draw repeatedly of course.

In AntiBunny http://antibunny.net/ this resulted in some of the earlier character designs being a tad inconsistent, for instance a character in a T-Shirt interacting with a character in a long winter coat.

Since then I've been trying to come up with more consistent seasonal outfit designs. With Book 2 I think I've gotten a lot more consistent with the outfits all making it very clear that it's summer.

So short version is that it starts out with them forming organically from loose ideas, then getting refined and redesigned over time. Not exactly the most scientific approach I know.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

For new major characters in Phantomarine (http://www.phantomarine.com/) I usually try to design a character and draw them at least 5 times before I have them show up in the comic. Their initial design usually pops into my head pretty quickly, but I do a bunch of test drawings to A) see what looks best and B) isolate things that might be difficult to replicate, and simplify them as much as I can. For new minor characters, my process is way more haphazard - and I’ll admit I fall back on a lot of similar face and body shapes when designing incidental crowd characters or random one-line characters.

But the area I’ve had the most fun jumping into - and didn’t expect to even try out - was costume design. I imagined my characters staying in their main outfits for the entire story, but was encouraged to design wardrobes for each, just as a fun exercise at first. And now, I see outfit-swaps as ways to get out of drawing ruts - and it’s more fun for the readers, too! Makes total sense that characters would switch clothes over a longer story, so when I started doing it, it was not only a “OF COURSE!” moment, but a huge relief in terms of being allowed to try new designs. I’m really looking forward to drawing my characters in all sorts of different ways now.(edited)

The Q - working on WAYFINDERS

THem color schemes though!

MJ Massey

I need to get better about this. I usually slap dash throw characters together, especially background characters, but based on their character traits, I have an idea of how I want them to look.

For my main characters, I start drawing them a couple times, mostly just doodles and then like a concept art or two to really get the hang of them, but I find that drawing them in the comic is what gets them under my fingers the best

Emily and Chester were the ones I designed first, as the two mains I wanted to make sure they would play off each other well. With Emily, the key thing was to make sure she wasn't too cute or attractive--she's supposed to be kind of plain looking and a little drab

Chester, in contrast, is soft and playful looking while Emily is more angular and sharp

Cronaj

For Whispers of the Past, my characters have gone through several redesigns over the years, as I spent time planning the comic, getting better at drawing, and discovering the deeper personalities of my characters. As it is my first comic, I wasn't very organized in my initial process. Since my art style is not very cartoony, I don't use the same stylistic cues to help the readers tell the characters apart, and instead, I rely on a lot of subtle features to tell them apart, such as Agatha's thick eyebrows and full lips:

Or Izrekiel's round under-eye, or his round face:

Some of these reference sheets are more complete than others, and some are older or newer depending on how much help I needed when adjusting each character's designs to my evolving style.

Desnik

I usually start with writing them before I totally know what they look like. Sometimes they wind up with props that I need to work into the design as the story gets rewritten.

Deo101 (Millennium)

For me I generally have a solid idea in my mind before I start drawing. I draw that idea, refine it a bit, and then I draw them about 10-100 more times, depending how much they'll show up. For background characters i pretty much design them right then and there, but for major and minor named characters, i need to get comfortable with them and really test how they react to things. I also will paint my main characters, because I find that forcing myself to fully realize what the character would look like realistically really helps me be more informed when I'm simplifying them later! I tend to focus pretty strongly on color, and tend to monochrome designs. There is also some research involved, where i make moodboards once i get the initial design down so I can refine things! A lot, i know.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble #comic tea party #ctp

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darkouter · 5 years

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barty’s art hobby & magical items (ESSENCE OF DOLOR + SKETCHBOOK)

personals do not reblog !

barty has always liked art a lot. as a kid, he used to use whatever he could get his hands on. there were several times where winky would panic when she found him drawing on the walls when he was a child. luckily, she kept him from ever being caught by crouch.

it became a bonding activity for he and his mom to sit down together and do arts and crafts. she would introduce him to various mediums, all the way from paints to paper mache, whatever a kid would love playing with. he hung up his art all over his clubhouse. he particularly liked messy items like clay until he was around 7, when he managed to make a mess in the mansion with it. crouch stumbled upon it before winky could clean it up, and, having grown tired of barty’s terribly unruly behavior and disrespect for personal items, crouch did two things:

for as many items that barty got dirty, he had to destroy something of his own

he had to drink essence of dolor in just as many gulps

ESSENCE OF DOLOR

this potion is sanctioned only for use within the ministry of magic department of law enforcement for the use of torture, dolor being latin for pain. this potion has no other use than to cause as much pain in whatever part of the body it comes into contact with as it is capable of producing. thus, depending on how the brew is administered, there are different severities of pain it may cause. parts of the body with few nerves are least painful, so small amounts in these spots are the lowest possible pain it can cause. most of the time, this is not how it is used, much to the misfortune of the victim. often, under crouch’s term working as head of the department, death eaters and other offenders would be dunked into the liquid. besides the short-term pain, it causes no lasting physical damage. it is the ministry’s work-around for not abusing use of the cruciatus curse.

barty has endured the potion’s effects several times as a punishment at crouch’s behest. knowing that information about it would be found somewhere within the department’s files, barty began looking for it out of curiosity during his summer internships.

though it took until 1979, he came across documents detailing how to brew it, handle it safely, and how to use it most effectively. memorizing it, as confidential files cannot be removed from their designated areas and are enchanted to not be duplicated, he would eventually provide voldemort with this information in his eagerness to gain approval. given his prowess in potion brewing and that he is the one who knows it best, actually coming into contact with the documents to memorize them, barty would often make large batches for the death eaters, even before officially joining their ranks. he may have taught a few people how to make it, but this would be very selective and only reserved for those with a mastery over potions (someone like snape, perhaps)

after this incident of abuse, barty no longer enjoyed art that might cause any mess. in fact, for quite a few months, he wanted nothing to do with anything relating to art. it took his mother coaxing him back into it before he would start up again when he was 8. he only stuck to using pencils, and it would be years before he would be willing to use things like charcoal, oil pastels, and the like.

as part of her efforts to get barty back into art, his mother gifted him a magical sketchbook for his 8th birthday. she reasoned that it could be his safe place to draw.

BARTY’S SKETCHBOOK

the main source of what makes it unique has to do with its neverending pages. while it remains a reasonable thickness in appearance, one could tear away at the pages infinitely, and it would always produce more. picking up all of the pages and flipping through them, the papers will never stop, though it never appears as if new pages are produced. it only ever remains an inch thick. the pages themselves are durable, almost like canvases but not as thick, and made to not let anything bleed through them, so they can even be painted on without damaging other pages. it is mostly waterproof and stainproof, though this only applies to pages that are not opened. one can still use water colors or any sort of medium on an individual page, even rip that page out if desired, but it simply will not harm the other pages if they are not being actively used. it is also nearly invincible, though barty would never allow anyone to test just how true that is. opening the book, one can start from the first page with barty’s first drawing and continue on and on and on through thousands of sketches (beginning in 1970). if you ask barty, the only disadvantages are that it isn’t enchanted to only open for him and that it’s very hard to find individual sketches.

it contains more or less everything he has drawn since he was 8, barring random doodles he may have made elsewhere or projects he gifted to others (which would only be to his mother and best friends), but all of his other personal major pieces reside in the book. and he draws. a lot. during childhood, it is mostly full of silly cartoon images. it changes when he is 11, as he begins to draw things from his days at hogwarts. it serves almost like a diary as he begins to write commentary on the left blank page with drawings on the right. sometimes poems, sometimes notes on what the image is, what spurred his desire to draw it, or even just details of what happened that day. beginning to do still life pieces at school, he became a much better artist. while he likes capturing simple spots around hogwarts, he prefers doing portraits. usually he doesn’t tell people he’s doing them, nor does he usually tell them he did. he is very self-conscious about his work, and he does not like for anyone to look at his drawings. if he shows a piece to someone, he still guards the book, not letting people hold it; he only lets them see very specific pages.

even under the imperius curse, he still continues to use his book, though the art and commentary/poems become near incomprehensible and obscure. the easiest comparison to make would be with david lynch’s art (give that shit a google for mostly nightmare fuel) or sometimes simply abstract expressionism. while all of his art is assigned dates, these 11 years contain none.

when he comes back to hogwarts as moody, he doesn’t get much of a chance to draw given that he isn’t supposed to be himself. if anyone were to find it, that would be bad. when he does break it out while alone, much of it is still abstract and strange as he continues to suffer from some level of disorganized thought that he can express on the pages.

once he escapes post-goblet, his default art style balances by being less abstract but far less realistic than when he was in school. he prefers charcoal/chalk, oil pastels, water colors, ink, plain pencil, or mixed media with these.

#| OOC: HEY GHOULS!#| HC: BARTEMIUS CROUCH JR.#if he gives u some art he Loves You #the only exception is riddle because he didn't think anything he could make would ever be good enough for Him #he is very very insecure about his art and feels like people are just being nice to him when they say he's good #but he IS good! even his nonsensical pieces are interesting even if they aren't a style that someone would like #im not sure how well those pieces in particular would be received in the wizarding world but he could get things into a museum i think #in the muggle world

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kpopfanfictrash · 6 years

Text

Drawing Darcy

Rating: PG (part of the scenario ask game)

Word Count: 3,071

Summary: Tae loves taking random photos of you secretly, and one day when you're looking through his phone you find out

Taehyung’s hair is slightly fuzzy on the back of his neck.

The cut is messy, blending into the peach of his skin but you cannot tell him this, because then he would know you were staring. Right now, you are supposed to be looking at the professor’s slide deck, not at Taehyung but, sneaking another glance, you confirm this fact to yourself. Yes, definitely fuzzy.

Slouching lower, you drum your pen against the paper and pretend to be paying attention to the board when really, all you cant think about is him.

Him, meaning Taehyung. Your best friend, Taehyung, with the too-long fringe in the back. Taehyung, who is squinting up at the slides because he forgot his glasses in the dorm and cannot be bothered to grab them. Your best friend, Taehyung, who has no idea you are looking at him because your best friend, Taehyung, has no idea you like him.

It started out innocently enough, as most things do. He was the friend of a friend, the boy who roomed with the boy you crushed on freshman year. Each time you went over he would be present, hanging off the edge of his bunk bed and throwing out suggestive comments with the arrogance of someone who knows they will get away with it. When you and Taehyung’s roommate began to date, you wound up spending more time with Taehyung than anyone else. His roommate worked out a lot, was captain of the crew team and spent most of his free time in various states of gym clothes.

While you waited for your boyfriend to come home from practice (or ‘bulking up,’ as he called it), you would be in his room, sprawled out on their futon, eating their chips and inevitably watching Taehyung play video games out of boredom. He was fun to be around because you could pretty much tell him anything and he would just grunt and agree. You ended up telling him more than you meant to – and one day, you realized he was listening.

“It’s just...” Sighing, you dug around in the bag for that perfect crinkle-cut. “I feel like I have to filter everything I say around him. Anytime I give my actual opinion, he looks at me like I’m crazy – which drives me crazy. I have opinions!” you declared, waving the chip. “I have a lot of them and true, not all of them are winners, but I wish he didn’t make me feel so –”

“Y/N,” Taehyung interrupted, tossing his controller aside.

You blinked. You had never seen Taehyung stop playing like that. The game was still happening, his character getting pulverized onscreen but he turned roughly to face you.

“Taehyung, what are you doing?”

“Break up with him,” he demanded, completely serious.

“I – what?” you gaped. Taehyung was your boyfriend’s roommate, his friend – the turn of events was startling, to say the least.

Taehyung flicked the hair from his eyes. “I’ve been sitting here for months, listening to everything wrong about your relationship and while, yeah, everyone bitches about their significant other – not this much,” he informed, slightly red in the face. “It sounds like he’s a real dick, most of the time. Even if he’s my friend, that doesn’t give him a free pass and you deserve better.”

That was it.

Taehyung picked up the remote, sunk back into his game and you sat there, staring at him on the couch. Even after you and his roommate did break up (Taehyung was right, he was a prick), the two of you remained friends.

Which brings you full-circle to today’s state of affairs. You are completely, totally in love with your best friend and he has no idea.

It is not your fault, honestly. It is Taehyung’s fault, with his stupid, square smile and that stupid, high brow and his stupid, smooth skin. He has this way of making you feel at ease with just a look or a word, or a weird quirk of his eyebrows. It is his fault you like him, because Taehyung is perfect. Okay, maybe not perfect. Perfect is a dangerous word, as Taehyung likes to say. He laughs at your books and TV shows, since you tend you slot yourself with the hopeless romantics of the world – the ones who sit waiting for their perfect white knight, an ideal which Taehyung continuously scoffs at.

“None of those guys are real,” he chided you once, poking your sketchbook with his big toe. “You’re so obsessed with drawing that one guy – what’s his name, again?”

“Mr. Darcy,” you responded, automatic. “The Colin Firth version, not the reboot.”

“Right.” Taehyung arched a brow. “He’s not real, Y/N.”

“Oh?” Ignoring this, you continued to sketch – that was your major, after all. A graphic designer, always half-in and out of reality. “No shit, he’s a fictional character. He’s one I happen to like, though.”

“A romantic, idealistic character who urges the female population to buy into this notion that hey! That guy’s an ass but maybe he’s just misunderstood and maybe he likes me and how romantic,” Taehyung batted his eyelashes in your direction, “that all is!”

“Shut up,” you grunted, continuing to sketch. “Until I can find a normal guy who makes my heart flutter like he does, I’m going to continue to draw Darcy.”

Glancing down at your notebook, you quickly shut it, since it is all filled with Taehyung.

Taehyung stands from his seat, stretching both arms overhead and it seems almost on purpose – the bottom of his shirt rides up to reveal a tan, flat strip of stomach. You look quickly away. Taehyung is not perfect. He is better. He is real and solid and entirely human. He is different from you, always keeping you on your toes and making you discover things about yourself you did not think possible.

Taehyung is a business major of some sort, with a minor in Photography and while you always carry a sketchbook and pencils, he is continually lugging around a giant camera for ‘spontaneous brilliance.’

Like now. Taehyung finishes stretching, lowering his camera over the panes of his chest. He looks at you, quirking a brow. “That was boring,” Taehyung complains, watching students stream by. “Probably the worst lecture of the past three months, what do you think?”

Trying not to smile, you follow him up the steps of the lecture hall. “Oh, I don’t know. The one on endocrinology was stranger.”

“Really?” Taehyung pushes open the door. “I thought that one was interesting.”

“Well, sure.” You nod, tucking your sketchbook away. “What was weird is that it took place in Theology 101.”

“Ah, true.” Taehyung grins, spinning when you exit the quad. “Smile,” he instructs, snapping a pic. “Fuck, blurry.”

“Taehyung,” you groan, shoving both hands in between you. “Stop! I barely put on make-up this morning.”

“And still.” Taehyung snaps another pic. “You look ravishing. Oh – damn. Blurry again.”

“Lord,” you laugh, pushing past him. “I have to get to Anthro – see you later! We’re still on for dinner, right?” you ask, turning around as you walk.

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, still observing his camera. “Meet at my dorm room, okay?”

“See you then!”

Walking away from him, you clutch your drawings tighter. You are not sure when the drawings began turning to Taehyung. There was a night last year, when you woke around 3:00 AM but, instead of doodling Darcy as usual, found the head shape you drew to be oddly familiar. Still half asleep, you squinted at the lines flowing forth until the portrait was complete and you sat frozen in shock.

It was Taehyung. Your favorite Taehyung, with his hair messy and shirt misbuttoned – which brought on another wave of shock, realizing you had a favorite Taehyung to draw. Fingers trembling, you set down your pencils and burrowed deep in your pillows. Sleep did not come easily that night, since although the sketch came out in perfect clarity, your thoughts certainly were not. You liked Kim Taehyung, but he was your best friend.

That was the first sketch you made of him, but it was not the last.

Taehyung’s dorm room is on the fourth floor of Sorin dorm, all the way at the end after three flights of stairs. He chose this room on purpose, since it is a turret and despite Taehyung’s hatred of romantic heroes, he certainly likes to act like one. The first time you visited, he sat hunched in his chair, all the blinds drawn while he stared at his table.

“Y/N,” he declared as you entered. A thin smile stretched his lips, nodding to himself. “Excellent, excellent. I knew it was you.”

“No shit, Taehyung.” Rolling your eyes, you closed his door. “Who else visits you?”

“Ladies,” he drawled, swirling a photo in the chemicals before him. Taehyung did not do that often, but occasionally he went for the darkroom effect. It explained all the blinds at least, which was a small relief. “I’m incredibly popular with the ladies.”

Thinking about this now, you push open the door to his room. It is empty, but you know on Wednesdays and Fridays Taehyung has a class which sometimes runs late. It is not concerning for you to be alone in his room; the two of you are close enough by now, that this hardly matters. Lowering your bag to his floor, you plop down on his bed and place your sketchbook before you.

Starting to shade in his jaw, you lose track in your work. It might be risky, working on a drawing of your best friend when he could walk in any moment – but Taehyung is smart enough not to look at your sketchbook. He learned this lesson firsthand when he tried to steal your notebook freshman year and you jabbed a pencil into his side.

Eraser first, yeah, but he got the point (ha).

There are just a few features left you find hard to draw – his eyes, for one. Taehyung’s eyes are crescent-like when he smiles, scrunched in when he laughs but always alive, always expressive. It can be hard to capture on the page and – oh, shit. A muffled thud hits the floor, caused by your foot lashing out. Leaning over the comforter, you see Taehyung’s phone on the ground.

Frick. Sitting up and forgetting your work, you glance at his door, which is closed. Taehyung must have forgotten his phone before class – lord knows he would forget his head if it was not screwed on straight. Bending to grab the device, you flip it over in your palm – only to freeze, seeing the wallpaper before you.

Curious, you swipe right on his phone. Taehyung really needs to update his passwords, you think, keying in the birthday of his mom. The intrusion is worth it though, when his phone is open and you can see clearly the face of his background.

It is you. Or – it is you, but not a photo you remember him taking. It is none of the ones from the quad, nor of the cheesy shots he forces you to take in the classrooms. You sit in your room, it seems – yes, that is the corner of your dresser, there – and are immersed in your drawing, lower lip held between teeth. Your expression seems softer, as it is one you have never seen on yourself. Then again, you have never seen yourself drawing before.

Without understanding why, your thumb hovers over the album icon on his phone. This is wrong, it is a complete invasion of privacy but for some reason, you click anyways. Unsure what you are looking for, you flick through his photos – until you find an album that stops you, staring down at the title.

Y/N, Candid.

Slowly, you press on the square and photos fill the screen, leaving you speechless. You dazedly swipe right, one after the other. There is one of you sitting, brow furrowed while attempting to play Taehyung’s video games. There is one of you in a park, bent over with laughter while Taehyung makes fun of your stride. So many photos, each one unique, each one different and none of them – none of them you can remember him taking.

“Oh, fuck.”

Head jerking up, his phone slips through your grasp. It clatters aimlessly against the floor while Taehyung stands framed in the doorway.

“Uh. Hey, Taehyung!”

He does not move, gaze traveling from your hand to his phone. “Is that…” He halts, shaking his head. “Is that my phone?”

“What, this?” you blurt, bending to scoop it up from the ground. “No – this is just a square, silvery mobile device. That… you use as a phone.”

Taehyung blinks. He adjusts the strap of his camera. “Were you… were you looking through my phone, Y/N?”

You hesitate because on the one hand, Taehyung saw you. On the other hand, blind denial is always good. “No.”

Slowly removing his camera, Taehyung places this down on his desk. He stares for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh,” he exhales, glancing at you. “I don’t know how to put this. I have a lot of photos on my phone, a lot of ongoing projects and well, some of them are… personal.”

Managing a nod, you push to your feet. “Right.” Swallowing hard, you shove your sketchpad into your bag. “Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything. I – uh, Taehyung I want to stay for dinner, but I actually just stopped by to say –”

When you attempt to leave, his hand closes over your upper arm. “Hey,” Taehyung breathes, effectively stopping you.

Freezing, you stare at the wood wall of his dorm. “What,” you mutter, still trying to make sense of it all. Taehyung has photos of you on his phone. An entire album of photos, ones taken when you were not looking and you do not understand why he would do that.

Slowly – gently – Taehyung turns you to face him. “I know you saw the album.”

Looking up, you cannot respond because yes, you saw but you still do not understand. “I saw,” you admit, meeting his gaze.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. Quickly, he lets go of your arm and steps backwards. “You saw?”

“You – what?” you respond, suddenly confused. “You said that you knew!”

“Well, yeah, I said that, but...” Taehyung trails off, stunned. “I wasn’t sure. I was trying to find out!”

“Well,” you sputter, crossing your arms over your chest. “You should have just asked!”

“I did! You lied!”

“Oh, right!” you yell back, the room falling silent between you.

Taehyung stares, slightly wild-eyed. “I,” he hesitates. “I can explain.”

The image of you sleeping sprawled on his couch comes to mind and you blush, remembering the drool hanging from the corner of your mouth. “Those moments were private,” you complain. “Taehyung, there are photos of me sleeping! There are photos of me at the gym, doing drunk karaoke, stuffing my face with burgers! Private moments,” you hiss, “between you and me! Those weren’t meant for your photography class, or whatever.”

“I know,” Taehyung nods, expression wretched. “Those pictures weren’t for my class, I swear it! No one has ever seen them but me.”

“No one has ever seen them but you,” you repeat, shaking your head. “What are you talking about? If no one has ever seen them, what were they for?”

“Me!” Taehyung yells – wincing, he lowers his voice. “They were for me,” he repeats, softer.

Staring back at him, it feels as though all the wind has been punched from your chest. “I – what?”

“They were for me,” he admits, flushing. “God.” Taehyung groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing. I like you, okay? I like you, Y/N,” he mumbles in-between fingertips. “I took all those photos because I like you, Y/N and you inspire me, and I just like all the ways that you look.”

“You…” This does not make any sense. It is ridiculous because Taehyung, your best friend, does not think of you like that. You would have known, somehow. You would have seen. “You... like me.”

“Yes.” Taehyung groans, face still covered by his hands. “I liked you from the minute I saw you but you were dating my roommate, and then we were just friends and now we’re still just friends – which is okay! It’s cool, it’s just... I also want to hold your hand and shit. I don’t know,” he exhales, dropping his hands to look at you. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have found out like that.”

“No,” you repeat, stunned. You want to move closer, but seem to be rooted to the carpet. “I shouldn’t have found out like that... I should have told you I liked you a long time ago.”

Now it is Taehyung’s turn to be confused. “You… what?”

“I like you,” you breathe, dropping your bag to the ground. Yanking free your notebook, you thrust this into his arms. “Look,” you nod, bracing yourself for the motion. “Look at my drawings, all of them. I won’t stop you.”

Taehyung frowns, not understanding until he flips open your notebook. Then he pauses, eyes wide as he stares down at his face – and flipping the page, he sees the panes of his back. The curves of his shoulders, the white fabric of his shirt. Taehyung quickly inhales in amazement.

“You,” he blinks, hand splayed on the page. “You draw… me?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung looks up in shock. “These are beautiful.”

“Well,” you stutter, glancing away. “That’s debatable. I do think you’re beautiful though, so... there’s that.”

“You... do?”

When you look up, Taehyung has set your sketchbook aside. Gently – lovingly, because he knows how much it means to you – but right now you do not care, because the way he looks at you means more.

“Well, yeah,” you stumble. “I think everything you do is amazing, and –”

Taehyung steps forward and kisses you. His lips are soft, open and you feel yourself melting. You feel yourself falling, even though you have already fallen. Hands rising to wrap around his neck, you pull him close and Taehyung lets out a groan. He walks you back towards the wall, body curving over yours, mouth opening while his tongue flicks to find yours.

There is always that kiss in your life. That one which defines all others, makes you realize you have never been truly kissed and for you, this is that kiss. Just the way Taehyung breathes, a sound hiccuped between movement, or the way he touches you, as though afraid you might fall through his grasp. It makes you want more, makes you want him and by the time he pulls back, you feel drunk on his lips.

“Taehyung,” you exhale, forehead bent to his own.

Taehyung’s lips brush your brow, then your nose. “Y/N,” he whispers. “You have no fucking idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh?” you return, tightening your hands on his neck. “About as long as I have, I’d imagine.”

“Longer.”

“You wish.”

“Longer.”

He kisses you again.

#taehyung fanfiction #bts fanfiction #taehyung #bts #bangtan #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung writing #bts writing #scenario ask game

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 4

Author’s note: I know I’ve said this already, but thank you so much for reading this story. I wasn’t really sure how this fanfic would go at first, but you guys have been very supportive since part one, and I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this part as well :)

From Arthur’s POV

OUTSIDE LEMOYNE NATIONAL BANK

Pacing to the other end of town, Dutch and I slithered our way through the groups of lawmen patrolling around Saint Denis as we hurried to find Hosea at the bank, keeping a low profile and eager to get back to camp.

At this point, the city was entirely awake, and all around us, we could see both men and women calling out to passersby as they advertised their merchandise, campaigns, charities, and more. It was quite the sight. Sure weren’t like anythin’ I’d ever seen.

We had already come across some rich fool by the side of the road who was hollerin’ at people to buy his book that would apparently lead folks to instant success, as well as some waste of space claimin’ that the white race was the only “correct” one, and that the blacks and Indians were nothing but animals. It was science, he said.

Well, last time I checked, “science” was the same thing trying to turn cannons and bicycles with balloons into forms of transportation. So that didn’t exactly count for much in my book.

On a more pleasant note though, I did also see a woman standing outside City Hall advocating for women’s right to vote. It wasn’t something I could see happening anytime soon, and her ideas of a female president within the next ten years seemed a bit far off, but there weren’t no shame in searching for a better world. I only hoped she had some sort of protection out there in the open. Not everyone was taking her proposals kindly.

As for Dutch -- well, ever since the man found me about an hour ago, he had been chewing my ear off about his plan to pick Saint Denis clean of its money before packin’ our bags and heading off to Tahiti or some place.

I wasn’t quite sure how that would work exactly, and if I was being perfectly honest, the west sounded like a much better area to lie low, but...I wasn’t really thinkin’ about any of that anyway.

The only thing on my mind at the moment...was Edward.

I couldn’t get that melody he played out of my head, and the man himself wasn’t easy to forget either.

I didn’t know why, but somethin’ about that boy just stuck with me. His words, his personality, his music...it preoccupied me completely. It almost felt like I was still sittin’ there by his piano.

Despite my pleasant thoughts about him though, I couldn’t deny I was a bit concerned about Dutch’s plans to rob the theater. I mean, I knew there was probably hundreds of dollars sittin’ in there and Edward and I were barely acquaintances, but it still seemed...I dunno, wrong to go behind his back like that. Especially right after doing a favor for him.

But I supposed that was the life of an outlaw. I could never truly befriend honest folk, or get along with them. I could only lie to ‘em.

“Hosea, old man!” Dutch called out suddenly, bringing my attention back to reality.

Hosea was sitting on a bench not too far away from the bank with a newspaper in his hands -- more as a mask than actual reading material -- and waved at us as we approached him, keeping our voices low.

“Ah, Dutch, Arthur,” he greeted, folding the newspaper. “There you are. How did you fellas get along?”

Dutch leaned against a nearby street lamp and crossed his arms. “Arthur here thinks he might be onto somethin’ about an upcoming gala. Heard some woman in the Bastille rambling on about it...and I’ve got a few ideas of my own on that theater as well. What about you? How’s the bank looking?”

Hosea rose to his feet. “Pretty much what you’d expect. Lots of money, and even more security to protect it. It also happens to be in the middle of the city. So if we’re gonna hit it, Dutch, we’ll need every gun we have. But if we can pull it off right, I guarantee it’ll be worth it. The vault’s got thousands of bucks just waitin’ in it. Enough to get us out of here.”

The other man nodded in contemplation. “Alright, then. Well, let’s head back to camp...and I’ll tell you all about this theater once we get there. I really think this could be quite the opportunity for us, but we don’t have too long to plan for it, so we need to move fast. C’mon.”

SHADY BELLE

DUTCH’S OFFICE

“Okay, gentlemen,” Dutch said eagerly, gathering us outside his room. “I have a plan. And this is a good one.”

Hosea and I exchanged looks, feeling both a little nervous and excited at the same time as we took a seat on the ornate couch.

“Well, what’ve you got in mind?” Hosea asked.

Dutch grinned, holding a finger up. “I did some investigating, and apparently there’s gonna be a show at the Râleur in two days. Lots of tourists are gonna come pilin’ in, and all the money will be sitting right at the front door while everyone else inside is distracted by the show. It’s the perfect time for us to slip in and swipe the cash. Which means the best way for us to do this is by makin’ as little noise as possible...”

He glanced at me. “...Arthur.”

I sighed in annoyance. “...Jesus, I get it.”

Dutch let out a hearty laugh. “That is the last time I’ll mention it. I promise. Anyway, I’m thinkin’ we bring in a small group. Go in quick and quiet. We don’t wanna barge into the theater, armed to the teeth. Remember, the goal here is to cause as little alarm as we can. We’ll probably disguise some of you as employees, too -- that way, you can keep watch while the others focus on the robbing.”

Hosea nodded. “And who’s doing what?”

“Hmm. Well, we don’t want anyone too tough looking to dress as the employees,” Dutch explained. “I think I’ll get Kieran to be one of them. You too, Hosea.”

“What ‘bout me?” I questioned.

“You...are gonna be doing the robbing. My plan is for you and Mary-Beth to enter the theater together. Pretend you’re a couple out to see a show. But don’t walk up to the ticket booth until it’s empty. That way, no one will be around to see what you’re really doing.”

I raised a brow. “Me and Mary-Beth?”

Hosea chuckled. “That poor girl has her eyes on you, Arthur. Everyone in camp can see that. Least it’ll make this job easier for her.”

I shrugged. “So, what, we just walk up to the ticket booth and take the money while everyone’s watchin’ the show?”

“That’s the idea for now,” Dutch confirmed. “But I’m still working out the details. In the meantime: Hosea, you keep focusing on that bank. And Arthur, see what else you can learn about the gala -- where it’s located, how we get in...things like that.”

“On it.”

The man smirked. “Good. Saint Denis will be our ticket outta this country, boys. I can feel it. We just need one, last score...and we’re gone for good. But it won’t help anything if you lose your faith. So stay with me. Both of you. The gang may be strong, but we’re nothing if we don’t work together.”

Hosea and I gave Dutch a firm, honest look.

“We ain’t goin’ nowhere, Dutch,” I said. “We got your back.”

Dutch began making his way out of the room, glancing at us over his shoulder before he headed out the door.

“I know.”

A FEW HOURS LATER

THAT NIGHT

Sitting on my bed, I mindlessly doodled in my journal while the rest of the gang chatted at the campfire outside, sketching the night away as I waited for another long day of work tomorrow.

Normally I drew things like horses, plants, landscapes...just stuff I came across while wandering around. But today, I found myself scratching down wobbly images of pianos, random music notes, and of course...Edward.

By now, it was honestly frustratin’ me that I couldn’t tear my mind away from him. Why the hell was I so captivated by that man? I mean, I had met much more prominent people in the past.

I had seen people who were retired gunslingers, civil war veterans, slave catchers, dinosaur bone hunters -- hell, I’d even come across a couple who were brother and sister.

Why was one pianist so interesting to me? Ain’t like he was the first musician I’d ever met.

I guessed...I guessed it was because he was so different from everyone else.

Most people I talked to always hid behind some kind of pretense. Acted polite and well-mannered on the outside, and danced around saying what they was really thinking...but Edward, he already seemed to know me better than I even knew myself. Within just a few minutes of talking with the boy, he had already come to the conclusion that I was a better man than I thought.

And based on what? Ramming into him? Makin’ a mess of his notes? Covering his clothes in mud?

Mister Ryan definitely had a unique idea of “good,” that was certain. I just hoped I could live up to it.

“Um, Arthur?”

Flicking my eyes upward at the sudden intrusion, I paused mid-action when I realized Mary-Beth was standing just outside the doorway, her head poking inside with a puzzled expression as she stared at me. I put my journal down.

“Oh, Mary-Beth. Did you...need something?”

The woman walked into the room. “No. I was just...walkin’ by when I overheard you singing. I was curious, is all. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I froze in confusion. “Singing? What you mean?”

She giggled. “You were humming, Arthur. You didn’t notice? I guess that’s good. When you hum, it means you’re in a good mood.”

I bashfully looked away from the young woman instantly, admittedly a tad embarrassed.

When did I even start humming? Who else had heard me, if anyone? Christ, I hoped Uncle wasn’t sleepin’ on the floor downstairs again. Otherwise I’d never hear the end of this. That, and his goddamned lumbago.

“I, ah...” my voice faltered sheepishly, “...I didn’t notice. Sorry to disturb you.”

Mary-Beth waved a dismissive hand. “You weren’t disturbin’ me, you silly man. It was a pretty tune. Where’d you hear it?”

I pretended it was nothing. “Ah, just some song I must’ve heard somewhere or the other.”

She smiled in a way that said she knew I was lying, but dropped the subject anyway.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re feelin’ alright. This gang needs you to stay strong, Arthur. Dutch needs you. More than you may think.”

I stood up from the bed, placing my journal on the nightstand.

“Oh, I’m sure Dutch would manage just fine without me, but...that’s kind of you, Mary-Beth.”

She began to take her leave. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Stay safe out there, Arthur. Things is gettin’ pretty crazy -- both inside and outside of camp -- so be careful, okay?”

I escorted Mary-Beth out into the corridor, saying a quick goodbye to her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman slid a hand along the staircase’s railing, looking up at me before stepping down.

“Good. I know our situation’s been tough recently, and I can’t deny that I’m scared too...but I know you and Dutch will pull us through. You always do.”

I nodded confidently. “And we will again.”

Mary-Beth descended the stairs, leaving me alone in the hallway.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” she was quiet for a second. “Good night, Arthur. These moments of peace that bore us now, are what we’re gonna be wishin’ for in a bit. Take care of yourself. We ain’t losin’ anybody else.”

I waved her goodbye.

“...No. We ain’t.”

THE NEXT MORNING

Waking up to the sound of Karen and Grimshaw yelling -- again -- I fluttered my eyes open to a slit, only to be blinded by a strong beam of sunlight that was seeping through the broken window.

I was facedown in my pillow, and judging by the brazen snoring I heard comin’ from downstairs, I weren’t the only one still dreaming. Despite wanting to sleep more though, I decided to head out for Saint Denis now, while the streets were still quiet.

The sun had barely warmed up the sky yet, but all this arguing and fretting at camp right now was makin’ me want to be just about anywhere else. I understood that folks were afraid, and I woulda been lyin’ if I said I wasn’t -- but there was only so much worrying one man could take.

Retrieving my hat, I strapped my belt on and threw my satchel over my shoulder, making sure everything was in place and stretching a bit before striding out of the room.

Fortunately, there weren’t really anyone awake yet to distract me or hold me back from leaving, and the weather seemed clear enough today.

The clouds were thin and the morning sun was just beginning to float above the purple horizon, painting the world around us with a nice, red tint.

It was the perfect time to ride out.

SAINT DENIS

Urging my horse to slow down, I began trotting into the city ahead of me as I was forced to adjust to civilized life, keeping a mental note that it actually mattered what the hell you was wearin’ out here.

Usually, I just wore a simple, loose shirt and a roughed-up pair of pants, but for the sake of blending in, I had stuffed myself into some itchy vest this morning along with a nicer set of trousers I didn’t even remember purchasing.

For a minute I felt like a walking joke on display for everyone to laugh at, but then I remembered the people around me looked even weirder. Women with gowns wider than the streets, and men with hats that made them an entire foot taller...big cities were definitely not the place for me. I didn’t mind the money, though.

Steadily trotting through the roads, I glanced to my side when I noticed the Râleur coming up on the left, the brightly-lit building immediately catching my attention.

It was indeed quite a view, just like Edward said. Through the tall, glass doors, I could see a luxurious chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, giving the lobby an intense, golden glow as its light reflected off the decorated walls and waxed floors. And browsing through the posters plastered outside the theater, it looked like he weren’t kidding about those fire-breathing people.

Apparently, they had some lady from Bavaria who was stronger than a bull, a duo consisting of a tiny magician and child giant, a man called Benjamin Lazarus who could escape death, and a group of dancers from France who...oh, my.

Well, I didn’t know if it was really my kind of entertainment, but I was definitely considering seeing that show with Edward in it. If the song he performed for me was anythin’ to go by, then his show would be something to remember. I just wished I had the time to stop by.

“Well, hello there, Mister ‘Not a Cowboy!”

Whipping around towards the sound of the voice, I felt a smile sneak its way onto my face when I saw none other than the pianist himself strolling up to me as if on queue...alongside another man whom I hadn’t met yet. I hopped off my mount.

“I see my terrible sarcasm rubs off on people fast,” I greeted Edward with a chuckle, closing the distance between us. “How you doing, Mister Ryan?”

The musician scoffed. “I’m from England, mate. If anything, it was my sarcasm that rubbed off on you. But...I’m doing as well as one can in this city. And what about you, Mister Morgan? I hope Saint Denis is treating you okay.”

I shrugged. “I’m about the same as the last time you saw me.”

Edward seemed pleased. “That’s good to hear.” He turned to the man beside him.

“Err, Mister Middleton, this is the man I told you about earlier. He’s a traveler I ran into yesterday. Quite literally, actually. He’s the one who helped me out with my new composition.”

I brought my focus to Middleton, admittedly feeling somewhat out of place compared to their suits and ties.

“Arthur Morgan.” I introduced casually. The man gave me a stern glare.

I couldn’t quite pinpoint it just yet, considering I’d only met him, but something about Edward’s companion just...put me off.

Not only did he have a permanently sour expression hiding behind his groomed mustache, there was also a certain...glint in his dead, gray eyes that reminded me of Strauss. And everyone knew how I felt about that creep. Only difference was, this man actually looked like he was capable of giving out a beating himself.

The man held out a stiff hand.

“...Thatcher Middleton,” he replied bluntly. He had the same accent as Edward. “Pleasure to meet you.”

I reluctantly grabbed his hand, gesturing to the hardened frown on his face. “Try not to smile too hard there, partner. You, uh...another pianist?”

He shook his head, completely ignoring my remark. “No. I have nothing to do with that business. I’m merely a...” there was an odd pause, “...friend of Mister Ryan’s.”

I glanced side to side, not quite sure what to make of that.

“...I see.”

Picking up on the tension between us, Edward quickly jumped in, changing the subject.

“I noticed you were checking out the theater, Mister Morgan. Are you thinking about watching one of the shows?”

I gladly took my attention off Middleton, shifting my feet awkwardly. “I am, actually. I was considerin’ that show you mentioned to me. The one tomorrow?”

The pianist’s face radiated with excitement. “Oh, yes. Well, like I said, I’d love to see you there. I won’t be the only act tomorrow night, but it will be the first time I’m performing on my own. I confess I’m a tad nervous.”

I chuckled. “I ain’t heard much of your work, but if that song you showed me is anythin’ like your others...you’ll be fine.”

Edward didn’t appear any less anxious, but hid it nonetheless. “Thank you. You’re too kind, Mister Morgan.”

I laughed at that. “If you say so.”

Flattening this friendly moment with his grumpy tone, Middleton spoke up once more as he threw an almost threatening gaze in Edward’s direction, his eyes piercing through the shadow cast by his bowler hat.

“Well, I can see you’re busy, Edward. We’ll discuss this more later. In the meantime, I’ll be returning to my house if you need me. I have many matters to attend to.” Middleton barely looked at me, briefly bowing his head as a goodbye. “...Mister Morgan.”

I returned the dull farewell. “Middleton.”

Skulking off into the busy city, the man vanished like a phantom in the thick crowds as Edward and I watched him leave, both of us feeling somewhat unnerved after that chat.

“Charmin’ feller, ain’t he?” I muttered.

Edward crossed his arms. “He wouldn’t know charm if it died in his bed. Though, I suppose it already has.”

I smirked at the pianist. “I take it you weren’t waltzin’ around with him by choice?”

He sighed. “Oh, definitely not. You’ve no idea how grateful I am that I found you. In fact, I’d much rather waltz with you, Mister Morgan.” Edward stuttered after that, as if realizing what he just said. “Erm, i-if that’s alright, of course. Want to grab a drink? We did meet at a saloon, after all.”

I shrugged in a “why not” manner.

“Sure,” I agreed. “Oh, and call me Arthur, would you?”

Edward appeared much more relieved now. “And you can call me Edward. Or Eddie, if you prefer. People call me both.”

I beamed at him, the two of us strolling side-by-side as we diverted our path to the Bastille.

“Eddie it is,” I replied. “Y’know, I think you’re the most sensible Englishman I’ve met so far.”

“You’ve met others, have you?”

I adjusted my hat. “Well, aside from you and Middleton, I’ve only met one out here. And his name was Margaret.”

A brief laugh escaped Eddie. “You sound like you’ve had your fair share of adventures. Perhaps it’s your turn to entertain me with story today.”

We hugged a corner, turning onto a new street.

“Ah, I dunno ‘bout that. I ain’t...I ain’t so good with words.”

Eddie persisted. “You don’t need words to tell a story, Arthur. Words...are overrated. In the end, your actions are what speak for you.”

I grinned at him, the two of us stopping at the edge of a sidewalk as we waited to cross.

“You, sir, possess a wisdom that I have yet to find.”

Eddie remained unconvinced that I was as dumb as I made myself out to be and simply rolled his eyes, beckoning me as we spoke with each other like a pair of old friends.

For some reason, whenever I was around Eddie, I felt like I didn’t have to hide nothing. The boy seemed to be drawn to me no matter how much I talked down about myself, and every time we crossed paths, he acted as if we’d known each other for a lifetime already.

I...enjoyed the time I spent with him.

I was only worried that this upcoming robbery would ruin our friendship. I mean, it was obvious how much this meant to Eddie, and lord knew how long he’d been preparing for this, but it was something I just had to go through with.

Then again, I guessed I always had the option to expose the plan, but...I could never do that. Not with the gang counting on me. Or Dutch. The old man was already paranoid we had a rat within the camp. The last thing I needed was to make him think it was me.

Well, I supposed all I could do was enjoy this relationship while it lasted. Eddie was too good of a man to be with me anyway. It was probably for the best if he kept his distant from an outlaw such as myself.

...Probably.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #oc #fanfic #story

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mothraballs · 6 years

Photo

Sketchbooks From Over The Last Seven Years

I have a box of sketchbooks and random sketches that I’ve been adding to since I was about 12. Today I went through it all and I decided I’d make a post about it because. idk. why not I guess? So obviously its not every page of every book but like if anyone wants to go through about 7 years of bad sketchbooks and loose sketches and doodles its under the cut. Some nudity

.Going through this sucked a little because like who in the world ever wants to go through their middle school art??? Its hard not to get rid of that stuff because like not only does it suck but it makes me remember middle school and things like anime club and like. ew. But it’s nice to see how much less I suck at this, even if i’m not nearly as talented as I’d like to be. It also makes me sad to think of art i’ve lost, even if it was bad. I don’t have pretty much anything that I did digitally from like age 13-16 because I either deleted it or lost it when a computer broke because i didnt back that up since I didnt think id care but l kinda wish I still had some of that stuff, just like to compare improvement over such a big time period.

I wanted to find some of my actual finished art to post with this, but I couldn’t find it today, so it’s only sketchbook stuff (but I dont finish a lot of things anyway lol). Maybe I’ll make another post comparing old things I actually finished with new stuff once I can find it because I know it’s around here somewhere anyway heres sketchbooks!!

This is from 7th grade, so I guess I was 12. It’s god fucking awful, complete with drawings of memes (which I will spare u from), slenderman fan art, and a weird message about my middle school bike, which I still have in my garage, being stolen, which it never was. And the brakes do work.

why

This one is also from when I was 12, but it’s only about 1/4 of the way full.

i think i had a mental brakedown here lmao

@douche-mccoosh ‘s sexy page

This one was either from 7th-8th grade or just in 8th grade. Idk. Either way I was probably 13 years old. Just a warning: Mlp fan art starts here

1 (ONE) wolf

idk what this is supposed to be honestly

long forgotten OC

This one was also from when I was 13

I had this from age 13-14, I started drawing digitally a LOT more around age 14, so I guess I wasnt rly using my sketchbook as much

this was like straight copied from a piece I saw at an art magnet school I applied to (obviously I didnt get in lmfao) and I really did not understand how dark I needed to make the paper in some spots. And then I never finished it

A pony OC... she was a robot ok

I think I had this one age 14-15. The paper ended up being translucent so I stopped using it early on. Im kinda glad I didn’t fill it up because that actually might be kinda useful to me now

Sweet notes from @lmkno

This one wasn’t in the picture on the top bc I found it later. I think I might also be missing like 1 other one too tbh but oh well lol I think I had it when I was 15? really stopped drawing like a lot around this time, I wasn’t doing digital stuff either cuz my computer was broken at the time

This is also about when I stopped throwing away every single thing i drew on a loose piece of paper, so here’s some random sketches from the general timeframe

First sketches of my OCs Vonn, the fish man and Elliot, the girl with pigtails

Some of my art I’ve sorted correlating to the OC’s and the universe they belong in or whatever so here’s some OC’s that sort of came about around that time, some of the pictures are from when I was older though

Ginger

the TV head robot guy was named Seven

the guy with the fuckin,, circle head and weird face is Wolfgang, I still draw him a lot today but ive changed how he looks a l o t

I had this age 15-16, so like 2014-15. Maybe early 2016? There’s a lot of blank pages and scribbled out things. I

Wolfgang again

fukkin,,,, gaye ass furry roleplay oc

Sketches on loose paper from the time I think??? I honestly cant tell when all of these are from but they’re gonna go here.

first design of an OC named Eryl

A random D20 character

Eryl

Early drawings of an OC named Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy Lucy aka Lucy Ninetimes

Lucy & Wolfgang

And heres more stuff I had sorted by OCs/universe or whatever

main OCs here are Pidgenfinger, with the blue or possibly stylistic black hair, and Chrissy, shes like. A mouse or something

main OCs here are Roland and Ansel, they were like siamese twins and then one of them died at birth and now this guy just has a ghost twin idk it was stupid

Finally we’re at the point that my phone started recognizing faces in my sketchbook. I had this one age 17, i might have started it like right before I turned 17?