#every so often i get very motivated to draw with ink

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

A pal sent me some mail a long long while back and so I drew this and included it in my long-overdue reply! I would protect Fir with my (Cob's) life aahah!

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #firbolg #druid #ink drawing #comic art #every so often i get very motivated to draw with ink #it really is my favorite medium but it's a bit of a high-octane activity waahah! #lots of intense staring and breath holding #ty for the dice friend #the skull shaped d6s impressed my coworkers waahah! #the real story is that I impulse bought some stamps and didn't know what to do with them after that aaahah #so i just sort of sifted through the old mail pile that i keep in a box and decided to send some junk back #turns out i quite like putting an envelope together hehe

[monstress]

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

#answered #poseida #journals #journaling tips #also in return i need to know what u did to change your attitude with drawing! i need to get back on that horse!

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I understand of course that there's no artistic shortcuts, and that the only way to learn to do a thing is to practice it a bunch.

But man, every time I see your art on my dash, some part of my wishes I could flip a switch and just mimic that style in one go. How long does it generally take you to do any of your random sketches? And do you have any advice for nailing the sort of. Casual dynamic style you do so well.

Most sketches of just a pose and a half take me anywhere from 25 minutes to an hour, mostly depending on both how detailed the character is, and how ambitious/inspired I'm feeling to draw them.

It's as you said, hard to recommend anything other than "practice", but I detailed my study regimen here. Something I hear is useful but don't do myself is straight up tracing sketches of other artists (for your eyes only, don't go posting them and making claims), mainly to learn and improve your own muscle memory and "get in their head". I've only done that very sporadically as inking practice. That's not me saying it isn't a good idea, I just haven't built up the habit. Feel free to do that with my own work, by the way!

Either way, my "casual dynamic style" comes from honing my eye and muscle memory to the point where I can draw poses more efficiently and visualize them, which my daily study regimen helped me hone. When you "get" to where I am, you'll find that there's only more to learn, though. Think of speedrunners; someone being better than even 90% of players looks impressive, but once you hone your skill to that point, you'll realize there's 10 times as much distance between you and the guy that's better than 93% of players. People who shoot for world records, being the best of the best, wind up making thousands more attempts than others lower on the ladder ever will.

The biggest takeaway is that you shouldn't be expecting yourself to be all that satisfied at any point, IF you aren't drawing something you enjoy. DALL-E 2 images look impressive and even incredible, but after a while the novelty begins to wear off. Training your neural pathways to make better and better art works the same way; you actually dampen your ability to get a dopamine hit off of good art alone, so you try to make it better, and eventually you grow only somewhat satisfied with your new normal. You need to draw stuff that actually makes you happy. That's the sort of thing that will fuel your journey for real. It's why art quality seems to not really matter all that much on social media, as it's work that the viewer and artist relates with that often winds up getting any traction. It's not a great analogy as all art has inherent value, but some kinds of art is definitely more motivating to draw and engage with than other kinds.

It's also why I draw stupid shit all the time. I get more of a dopamine hit drawing stupid shit that scratches an itch. Maybe your thing is cats. Shipping characters. Trains. Buildings. Find something you can't easily get tired of drawing, and study it as often as you can. Not too much to burn you out, but enough that you don't mind taking the challenge again and again. Don't rush it, just study a small amount at regular intervals. It's as David Karp once said: It doesn't matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

#littlestartemis #FAQ

[banchagu]

thank you for the art asks!! i compiled the answers below

1. how would you describe your style?

Aside from anime-inspired I guess I’d say it’s pretty……….. “straightforward”. What that means exactly idk but it seems right to me

2. what’s your favorite thing about your style?

I still have a long way to go in terms of putting together really unique color palettes, but I do think at this point I can reliably pick out something effective, or at least cohesive

3. what’s your least favorite thing about your style?

I’ve noticed I lack a consistent brush/look for non-painting stuff, if that’s one? I love experimenting the most, but it would be nice to have a default to fall back on. Also I draw irises way too small sometimes LOL

4. favorite thing to draw?

I really really like theatrical, character-focused? kinda stuff with interesting imagery/symbolism… that and little comics + scenery + anything that pushes me out of my comfort zone, especially composition-wise. I’m still too self-conscious to really post any of these that often though, if at all :’DD

5. least favorite thing to draw?

I’m not confident enough in my anatomy skills yet so I feel awkward trying to convey attractiveness/beauty/grace LOL maybe one day

7. show us a WIP

Sorry but I’m the type to lose 100% of my motivation on something as soon as I share anything about it AJDKJNFJKN

8.  what’s the most fun and the least fun parts about your process?

I like the very beginning – sketching mindlessly/spitballing ideas, throwing down colors, working out a mood, etc. – and the very end stages (of painting) where it’s just a matter of rendering out tiny details. I also love shading!!!

Do Not like sketching for line art/lining in general, although that’s gradually getting easier… I think

9. show us a finished piece right alongside the sketch

(side note every time I see this set I’m always just baffled I didn’t draw Lou and Minnie looking further in the past for their piece too….. Why………… there’s actual backstory and everything……………..)

10. how many different sketches do you usually have until your piece is finished?

Honestly it can go up to ~10 and they usually look worse each time!! I’m starting to find, for me, the less planning and fussing over prep for a piece, the better. Doing otherwise has just built up my expectations for it (which I can never reach anyways) and curbed my enthusiasm to see it through (the most important part!)

11. show us the last thing you drew

13. how long do you usually take on a piece?

If we’re just talking high-effort/polish pieces, it can take 1 – 2 months, sometimes longer. I draw ““seriously”” pretty irregularly though, and with a set limit of hours per week (to manage burnout/RSI stuff 😭), so those are factors to consider. Also painting goes way faster!

16. favorite media to work with when drawing traditionally?

I like messing around with acrylic, even though set-up and cleaning is such a hassle. I love watercolor and ink too! Hoping to actually become comfortable using a g-pen someday sniff

#etc etc

[lyukablau]

Chuuya’s reactions when he found out your vent book.

A/N: Hii everyone, it’s Lyuka! This is the second fic in my new blog. Again, if you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes please let me know! I’m still new to this kind of writing😊. I have decided that I’ll do first five headcanon (or more if I see it necessary) to get use to it and will do one shot and scenarios after that. 

Type: Headcanon, fluff and comfort. 

WARNING: mental illness. 

You and Chuuya have dating for a long time, since he joined the Port Mafia and you appeared after him one month. 

Mori saw how close you guys are and how effective you and Chuuya bring for him and organization, he decided let you paired with him after Dazai left the Mafia. 

Chuuya knows every, single, things about you. What you like, what you don’t like, knows your favorite ice cream flavor, knows what you need immediately just by your expression and knows how much you love him and you know how much he loves you. 

He also knows that you love drawing. Sometimes he saw you draw in your sketch book and always bring that book with you. 

But he have noticed one thing recently about it. 

You don’t own any painting supplies. No watercolor, brush or palette. He didn’t see any pencil use for sketch like the other artist he see in internet. 

At first he though that you have your own drawing style that don’t need any of them, just a black ink pen is enough for you. If it that so, he will buy you the prettiest and best quality black pen for you. Until that day. 

It was the time when both of you doing paper works in Chuuya’s office, the thing that you and him hates so much. 

“I’m done! Now I’ll give this for boss, I’ll be back soon!”

“Okay, doll. I’m almost done too and then we can go home together. Sound good?”

“Perfect”

Then you left the room with folder in your hand. Chuuya smiled at your cute form and back to his work. 

Chuuya roses his hand to the take the coffee cup but accidentally hit the folders mountain felt to the ground, made the floor messy. 

He groaned with annoying face, sighed heavily and kneel down to pick them up. 

Just then, his eyes met the book open at a random page, and open his eyes wide when he saw how terrify the page is.

It is your drawing book. He pick up the book, read and look every single things that you drew. There are some small faces, bleeding eyes, lean bodies, red marks running along human wrist and many sentences that he sure is what your mind thinking.  

At that moment, he felt hurt and regrets. Why didn’t he noticed this sooner? If he did, you won’t be this hurt and stress. He should have asked, he should have had eyes on your more often. 

“Chuu! I’m back. Are you...”

Your sentence stop when you saw him read your vent book and hold it tightly. His eyes gazed with your scaring expression, but none of them are express anger towards you. 

“Y/N, what is this?”

His voice filled with angry and pain, and you know that you can’t hide it anymore. 

You told him everything, that you have depression and anxiety, but you don’t want to tell him because you scared he will leaves you and hates you. 

Chuuya put the book on the table then slowly walked toward your crying form, hugged you tightly and rubbing your back. 

“I’m sorry, love. I should have known. I should be there when you depressed, and I should have noticed that you in pain”

“It’s not your fault Chuuya. It’s my fault for hide it from you”

“No love, you don’t have to apologize”

You want to say something but you stay silent instead. Chuuya wiped your tears with his thumbs, kissed your forehead softly and told you to sit down, waiting him clean the messy floor. 

After that, Chuuya take your vent book and won’t let you touch it ever again. It will trigger you every time you see it and he don’t want to see you in pain. 

He will do anything for you, he also encourage you to meet the therapist, but he won’t force you if you don’t want. 

He will extremely careful when you feeling down, he won’t talk much (although inside him really want to) and just hugs you, whisper nothing in your ears and won’t leave your side until you feel better. 

He will do his best to keep you safe and make you happy, and he won’t leave you or stop loving you, ever. 

(Phew! That was long, I was considered that this should be in scenarios instead but I hope you don’t mind with headcanon. I’m still new to this and need time to get use to it. I’m very appreciate if you reblog and like this post. It helps me gain motivative to writing🤗)

#chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader fluff #Mental health #BSD x reader fluff #Btw I study psychology and I'm good at it

[a-hobit]

So I’ve been doing lots of figure and anatomy studies recently because I felt that my figure drawing had become pretty unrealistic and stagnant.

Wanted to show my beginning process a little bit for the other art anatomy nerds out there — also yes this is Spider-Man but he makes for great anatomical drawing motivation lol.

1st Sketch — VERY loose. If I have to think about a single abdominal muscle or finger in this state I will never finish it.

2nd Sketch Anatomy correction — This is where I break every part of the body into a geometric shape or a tube. Makes sure that whatever is in perspective is correct and helps me to remember how proportion effects the figure.

3rd Sketch Ink — I don’t really do “inked” sketches all that often because i paint over them but when I’m being technical I do this stage just to outline without the mess of the anatomy study.

4th — Flat color. Easy peasy.

5th Painting with Light (main) — I have to decide where the main source of light is going to be hitting and after that I paint in all the largest groupings of light with attention to the anatomy layer for muscle reference.

6th Painting with Light (bounce) — After getting done with the main lighting I make sure to make a lighter layer for bounce lighting. Guys I swear bounce lighting takes a good drawing to great. It’s really important but it can’t be more noticeable than how I’ve pictured it or else you’ve changed what direction your main light is coming from.

Hope this mini digital drawing tutorial helps!

#spiderman #spider man #comicart #lighting #drawing #drawing tutorial #tutorial #my art #process before render #with out background this time obvs

[schleierkauz]

Cornelia Funke Q&A - 07.02.22

Hey everyone! I know I haven’t been very active on here lately, it’s winter and I’m hibernating. Still, here is the recap of the last Q&A. Some really interesting things were discussed this time, I hope you enjoy it :)

Misc.

- Cornelia is exhausted because she's been unpacking "about 300 boxes of books" and finds herself wondering why she has so many. The carpenter is still working on her library so the boxes will be in her life for a while yet

- Cornelia's house is filled to capacity with guests for the next few weeks. She's already realising that she'll need a lot more space for all the artists that want to stay with her.

Cornelia is pretty sure all her character's exist somewhere and she's just writing down what they already are instead of making anything up. That's why they get so mad whenever she gets details wrong.

Question: Does Cornelia ever meet her character on the street? Answer: Not on the street, no. But she often sees them around the house. They all have very different personalities and act accordingly - Dustfinger, for example, likes to stay in the shadows and would never directly approach Cornelia. Jacob, on the other hand, often storms in, walks around in circles for a while and storms out again - and Fox is just always there, all the time. Their body language is very different. Cornelia's dogs are used to them by now. (Translator’s note: What an unhinged thing to say. I love her so much.)

- Cornelia has not yet seen Guillermo del Toro's new film because she's been so busy and she's not sure she ever will because it sounds too scary and she doesn't like horror. (Translator’s note: She doesn’t like horror? I wouldn’t have expected that tbh)

Question: How are the donkeys? Answer: They're doing so well that Cornelia feels a little bad about their previous life with her. She regularly gets pictures and they're doing amazing in their new home.

- Cornelia is open to writing another Dragonrider book if she hasn't "dropped dead by the time that would be possible" since she'll be busy with other projects for the next few years

- There won’t be any in-person live readings with Cornelia in Germany any time soon because after her move to Italy she’s really tired of travelling

Illustration

- The topic switches to illustration and Cornelia goes on a little rant about how in the past, it was common to have illustrations on every page of a book whereas nowadays she often hears things like "we can't put pictures in this book or people will think it's (only) for children". She thinks that is incredibly stupid and hopes illustrator will get the attention (& money) they deserve in the future

- Speaking of illustrators, Cornelia plans a new book with all her artists. Each of them will be asked to draw a Christmas tree with Cornelia writing a little story around those drawings. Originally she thought about having them draw a scene from Inkheart but she figured Christmas trees would allow more creative freedom. The chat was very in favor of her just doing both and she said she'd consider it - it would certainly be less work for her since Inkheart is already written. 

- When illustrating herself, Cornelia likes to use ink & feather for stories aimed at younger children, such as Dragonrider and Igraine Ohnefurcht. She feels a "classical" technique like that works well for fantastical motives. In Reckless, on the other hand, she often keeps the illustrations vague with many shades of grey to give each reader the opportunity to fill in the blanks using their own imagination. For that more realistic style she uses a lead pencil.

Rim Of Heaven

Cornelia talks a bit about the causes her foundation Rim of Heaven supports, such as:

- The Tree People in Los Angeles, who plant hundreds of thousands of trees and educate people about biodiversity - Safe Place For Youth in Venice Beach, who provide shelter for homeless teenagers (Cornelia apparently hosts a yearly Thanksgiving dinner) - Book Truck, which was founded by a bookseller who drives around in a delivery van Cornelia bought her to hand out free books to teenagers in foster care. The idea was widely mocked at first but it turned out to be a huge success.

Cornelia says she tries to support different good causes across the world each year, from efforts to keep Indonesian weaving techniques alive to giving girls access to education in rural parts of India to funding lawyers in America who represent kids who got separated from their parents at the border. She wishes she had more money to donate but stresses that even small contributions can make a big difference. She has had some bad experiences with people stealing donation money but doesn't think that's a valid excuse to stop trying.

RECKLESS

The Reckless TV show pitch document is basically finished and will be ready to be send out in about two weeks. They're just waiting for some tiny final fixes.

Question: Does Cornelia know how Nerron learned his trade as a treasure hunter? Answer: There is some information about Nerron's childhood. He only survived because his father saw what a talented thief he was. Those skills turned out to be useful for finding treasures, which sometimes requires stealing things. Other than that, Cornelia thinks Nerron is one of those characters she could easily write a whole book about. He's one of her favorite characters and she'd love to dig into his life a little more - but, just like Dustfinger, he is the kind of character that wants to keep some of his secrets and Cornelia respects that. It's unrealistic to want to know everything about someone - every human and every goyl needs some privacy.

INKWORLD

Question:

Will there be references to Reckless in The Color of Revenge, since both worlds are the same?

Answer:

There will definitely be bridges between both series but Cornelia will be careful not to force them. They have to appear naturally. She has a feeling that she will discover more about the fox who gave Fox (you know, from Reckless) her pelt. Maybe some Silver Alders as well... but she's not sure how explicitly those things will end up in the actual book. It's an Inkworld story after all, not a Mirrorworld one.

- Cornelia has been working on TCoR and can already see that the story will shift a lot from the chapters that were released early. There are a few things she was wrong about and the story is correcting her as she keeps planning and prepares to keep writing. She relistened to the audio books recently, Inkheart read by Brandon Fraser and the other two in German. Cornelia found herself surprised by her own story since it had been so long since she last really immersed herself in it.

Question: Do you think the Black Prince can be summoned like the knight from Geisterritter? Answer: Cornelia doesn't think the Black Prince really values love and romance all that much, not unlike many born leaders. She makes a comparison to Garibaldi and says that she's excited to find out more about the Prince and his priorities in life, since he will play a huge role in TCoR and the spotlight will be on him a lot more than it was in previous books.

Question: How did Cornelia choose the quotes for each chapter? Answer: At first she looked through all of her favorite books. When it was time to work on the second and third book she sometimes cursed herself for ever having the idea because she needed so many quotes. It wasn't easy to find a fitting quote for each chapter and her publisher struggled to get the copyright for each one. A few quotes had to be replaced because using them would have been too expensive - which is why there are some differences between the original German Versions and the English translations. The very first quote in Inkheart was supposed to be a poem by Shel Silverstein - but Cornelia hates the German translation of that poem. She tried to do it herself but it just didn't work. So instead, she went with a poem by Paul Celan, which is a lot more serious than the one which introduced the English readers to the story.

(Ok... Translator's note: What the fuck!!! I had no idea!! I always thought the poem at the start was very creepy and unnerving and the vibe of Silverstein's quote is SO different! In German the book starts with ash and darkness and in English it starts with stories by the campfire. INTERESTING!) Cornelia says she doesn't think anyone has ever compared the differences between the German and English versions of the trilogy but it would be interesting. (... 👀)

Question: Is there anything Cornelia can tell us about Jehan's witch friend in TCoR? Answer: No. That character is currently evading all of Cornelia's efforts to pin her down and any time she thinks she understands what her role in the story will be, the story says "wrong." The young witch has been putting on a lot of costumes and right now it's still very unclear what she's really about.

- Cornelia is currently reading a lot of books about paint as further TCoR research

The next livestream will take place on April 4th!

#cornelia funke #reckless #inkworld #info #this was a fun one #i just love listening to all three of them #the bookstore people are so wholesome #i left out a few tangents because they always end up talking about the most random topics and frankly idk how to translate some of it #it's really exciting to me to know that cornelia is working on TCoR RIGHT NOW #wanting to read that book is a major reason for me not to walk into the sea and never return this winter #and she's creating it as i type this #unreal

[cafeacademia]

Guardian | Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: After months of no contact with your soulmate, you begin to finally act on your suspicions, only to learn a difficult truth about your close friend, Draco.

Warnings: Sadness, some fluff, mention of abusive environments (Draco being involved with his father, Voldy and death eaters).

Word count: Approx 3200

Masterlist

NOTE: This story is following a slightly altered AU, in which Fred and George are still at school and Harry does not go for Draco after Katie Bell’s possession.

A/N: Hi loves! Here’s the next chapter! I did struggle a little with this one, but I’m really happy with it. I hope you enjoy this part and I promise there is some fluff coming for these two soon, enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next Part

Was it ever enough? The spilled ink, the black stained fingertips having spent hours writing with a quill. The way the pages crinkled under the heavy use, words that did not spell out a work of fiction, but that of the tale of two souls meant to be.

Was it enough to bring back what was lost by writing to him often? You couldn't know, but all you could do was try.

It was well beyond the start of your first term in your sixth year and as the leaves fell and the seasons changed, the forest surrounding the grounds with deep red and orange hues, you wondered where he could have gone, what had happened to him?

But as you wandered through the grounds, the clouds drew in, bringing a sudden downpour with them. Being quite far from the castle, the closest spot for shelter in the heavy rain was the owlery and quickly, you tugged your jacket over your head and sprinted across the wet grass towards the stone tower.

Taking care not to slip on the steps on your way up, you heaved out a sigh when you finally got yourself through the doorway. It wasn’t much warmer in the enclosed space, but it was at least dry.

It was a particularly odd Sunday, the weather had been changing all day, though you knew as winter drew in that this time of year was often very rainy and ever changing, just like autumn itself.

 Backing further into the owlery, you shivered, trying to warm yourself up a little bit, but as the strong winds blew across the grounds and swept through the openings between the stones in the owlery walls, you chilled even more.

 Suddenly, without even a whisper, having seemingly appeared out of no where, You felt something being draped around your shoulders and you jumped, looking over your shoulder to see yourself face to face with a Slytherin. “Draco?” It came out as a gasp. All he could do was meet your gaze with the cold blue hues of his eyes, barely managing a small smile, one that did not reach his eyes, one that appeared forced and perhaps even painful. His eyes were deep with the weight of his emotions, things he wish he could tell someone, but he had to keep them locked away as far down in himself as he could.

The ashen haired boy had barely even looked at you since the end of the last school year and a few weeks after your return to Hogwarts, it was increasingly obvious that he didn’t want to be around you.

“Harry is under the impression Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater.” Hermione had said it as if even she herself could not believe it to be true and you weren’t sure if you were lucky, or terribly placed at the wrong place at the wrong time to hear something that, despite your better judgement, caused your heart to ache.

What had he been pulled into? You couldn’t know for certain, but even now as you looked up at him and met his soft gaze, you knew that whatever he was taking part in was not through choice.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly, pulling the jacket he had draped over your shoulders around you a little more, only receiving a small nod from him. “Draco.” You reached out for him, your hand catching his wrist before he had a chance to turn away from you. And for a moment, Draco allowed himself to be touched, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of your gentle touch, but as he met your eyes, he slowly slipped his wrist out of your grasp and took a step back. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” He said, attempting a smile before ducking out of the doorway and disappearing down the steps into the heavy downpour.

Your heart ached at the way he had pulled away, at the deep regret he had held in his eyes as he had turned away from you. Pulling his coat around you even more, you were thankful at least, that returning his coat to him would allow you a moment to speak to him soon and you hoped you could get a moment alone with your friend soon.

Having made your way back to the castle after a ten minute wait for the downpour of cease, you headed back up to your dormitory to dry off and warm up. And as you perched on your bed with a blanket wrapped around yourself, you sighed, leaning down to gently take the small leather bound book out of the top of your school bag. Flicking through the pages, you turned to the last one that had been written on, only your handwriting occupying the crinkled, slightly yellowed paper and you sighed, your eyes landing on the words you had last written to him, drawing in a breath to speak them out loud. “Where are you?”

Draco hated it. He hated that every time he closed his eyes, all he saw, all he heard were things that haunted him. It was as if his mind could not truly allow him to rest, not without being reminded what dreadful things were happening and what were to come. But it was the worst when what he saw when he closed his eyes was the way his father had snatched the book from him, his voice full of opportunity.

***

“Do you know who this soulmate of yours is, Draco?” Lucius had asked. “No, father.” Draco lied, keeping his features neutral, his eyes passing over the book that was clutched in his father’s strong grip. Lucius cast a lingering stare at his son, judgement in his eyes as he considered his answer.

Draco knew he could not give away that he did, in fact know who his soulmate was, because surely someone might want to use you against him and he certainly did not put it past those around him to do so. Even if his father were to not use that information, he was sure someone else might, especially as motivation to carry out tasks. He knew already that anyone knowing about his soulmate even existing was bad enough, because even without knowing who you were, people could still use it as leverage. “Now, now, don’t look so miserable. You may have this back once you’ve tended to your duties.” Lucius had told him.

***

Draco looking down, pulling up his shirt sleeve to look at the image of the dark mark imprinted in his skin. Following the curve of the snake as it trailed over the veins in his wrist, Draco felt sick to his stomach. His eyes glanced up to land on the book. It was scratched up, dented and damaged, the golden gilding worn and scuffed off some of the edges, one of the metal corner protectors had gone missing and a few of the gold painted page edges were folded and ripped. It made his heart ache. It made Draco feel a uncontrollable, seething anger, a want to cry and scream and protect what was his with everything he had. But he could not.

They had all ridiculed him, used the book as a way to force him closer to the same lifestyle that they followed and Draco hated it. He resented everything they had used his book to make him do. Because it wasn’t just a book they were using, they had used you. And even though the book was now back in his possession after being confiscated more than once, thrown about and damaged on purpose to taunt him, despite the fact that he now held it as close to him as possible, he refused to use it.

What if someone were take his memories and view them? What if someone found out what he talked about? Or more importantly who he talked to. But with each passing day, his eyes landing on the old, tattered book, simultaneously a symbol of both hope and pain, Draco longer to open the cover and read the contents.

His aunt Bellatrix had tried to force him to read it out, but as if the book had known what was happening to both him and itself, it appeared blank no matter what they did, no matter how they tried to strip it of it’s concealment charms. Draco just could not bring himself to read your words, to see what you might have written in his absence, to see what his silence might have done.

“Soulmates? You can’t be serious, that’s all a bunch of old fairy tales.” Ron brushed it off. “Don’t be ridiculous Ronald.” Hermione sighed, about to curb his argument. “It’s not!” Neville suddenly burst into the argument, having seen you looking rather out of depth from the reaction you’d gotten from Ron. “My parents are soulmates too.” Neville said in a softer tone that time, giving you a kind smile as he looked across at you.

“With a book too?” You asked, now intrigued while Ron gave you both a look of confusion, having genuinely thought you had been pulling his leg when Fred and George had pestered it out of you. “No, they can hear each other’s thoughts.” Neville explained. “Do you know who yours is?” Harry asked, leaning over in his seat to join the conversation. “I can’t be sure, but I have a couple of theories.” You replied, leaning forwards and resting your chin on your hand. “Well, who is it then?” Fred asked with a big grin on his face at the idea of some brilliant gossip. “None of you would believe me even if I told you.”

“I would.” Luna smiled sweetly at you as she approached the bench, Neville almost immediately shuffling up and accidentally bumping George a little to give her some space to sit between you and him. “I believe in soulmates too, they are fascinating, don’t you think?” She asked. ”I just wish mine would talk to me again, he’s been quiet for months.” You sighed as Ron, Hermione and Ginny began to discuss something else with the twins. “You really don’t know who it is?” Luna asked. “My grandmother told me that soulmates are often much closer than you expect them to be, maybe there’s someone hiding in plain sight, waiting for you to realise that it’s them.” She told you, giving you a sweet little smile before she turned away to talk to Neville.

Perhaps Luna was right and perhaps, despite feeling a bit silly for thinking it might be someone you already knew, she was right and if your soulmate, whoever he really was, was very much absent and maybe it was time to really find out for sure.

Ron had suggested the use of Felix Felicis, but it felt wrong to use a potion in an attempt to cheat your way  into knowing who your soulmate was, but as the weeks passed and you left the falling leaves behind, along with the events that took place and had shaken everyone who had seen Katie Bell tragically possessed, you began to wonder if the idea wasn’t so bad after all. The year seemed more bleak as time passed and even as you passed into spring, it felt as if the tension in the castle was ready to snap at any moment.

Despite the tempting idea of brewing liquid luck and using it to find him, another part of you was reluctant, not because you felt it was wrong or like it was cheating at something you obviously should see through to the end, but because you had a feeling you already knew who it was.

But just as you feared his sudden coldness being the only worry and the fact that you had not found a single moment in which Draco would take his coat back from you from months ago, you feared the reasons he might not be speaking to you at all. Why was he so cold to you? The chill hurt. Walking into the great hall, the chatter between the trio as you passed them seemed to only be of one thing and it shook you as deeply as it had everyone else who had witnessed it. The horrifying way she had moved in such an unnatural way, how she had contorted and her face had been taken over by something terrible. Katie Bell’s possession.

“It was Malfoy, I’m sure of it.” Harry was adamant and the conviction in his voice was enough to chill everyone in earshot. And when you had swept passed the trio, looking for a seat elsewhere, you turned to see Draco standing in the middle of the hall, his face riddled with regret, shame and something that swam deep in his eyes as he looked at you. He held your gaze for a moment, your movements still as you stood in front of a bench, your eyes not leaving his. It was as if he was silently pleading you, as if he was asking you to help him, reaching out for something, for someone.

But just as you slowly moved a step in his direction, he turned and fled, Harry leaping up from his seat, but being yanked back by Hermione as you rushed after the Slytherin.

You tried to keep up with his quick pace, Draco weaving around corners and slipping through half open doors so quickly that if you hadn’t been paying enough attention, you might have lost him.

Finally, you rounded the doorway into the bathroom, seeing Draco hunched over a sink, his hair messed up and out of place, sobs shaking his body as he tried to wash the pain away with water.

“Draco,” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to startle him and he turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. Your heart broke, your throat clenching tight at the sight of him in such a state. “I had to do it.” He sobbed, backing against the wall and sliding down onto the cold stone below. “He made me do it.”

Slowly, you crossed the bathroom, carefully kneeling down in front of him and reaching out, tentatively at first to brush his hair from his face. “I tried so hard to protect-.” He stopped himself, a sob interrupting mid sentence and Draco heaved for breath as he reached for you. And just as he had done for you, when he had held you so many times when you felt nothing but pain and hurt and everything in between, you held him in your arms too. The beating of your heart soothed him as he cried against your shoulder, his hands holding you with a weak grip and slowly, his sobs softened as you held him tightly, softly stroking his hair.

“He made me do it.” Draco repeated, parting from you for a moment, pulling his sleeve up to show you, but he would not meet your eyes. The dark mark was like binding seal on his wrist, one that bound him to a life he did not want and you knew that the Draco his father was trying to make him be, was not the Draco you knew.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, pulling him back against you and hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Draco.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes, seeing someone you cared so deeply for, someone who you had secretly bonded with for years was being torn apart and put back together as someone he was not meant to be and you hated to see it happen.

“I can’t be around you, I can’t look at you, he’ll know.” Draco whispered, hugging you tightly around the middle. “You don’t deserve this pain, you deserve something more, something better.” You told him. Draco didn’t feel like he did, he didn’t feel like he deserved anything better and he certainly didn’t feel like he deserved you either.

“I’m sorry.” Draco cried, pulling away and wiping harshly at his tears. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.” He said, moving to get up, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could go. “Then talk to me by paper and quill. Like we used to.” You told him, and while your words could have implied your little notes during class or the letters during the summer, both of you knew what that had really meant. “Okay.” He nodded, trying to move away again, but you stopped him once more.

“Hold on, take this.” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks, sniffling as you reached into your robe pocket to pull out the beautiful green handkerchief he had given you three years prior. “You still have it.” He whispered. “Of course.” You nodded, reaching up to wipe your tears away. “I can’t take it, love. You keep it.” Draco said, gently using his fingers to close your own around the handkerchief and pushing it back against your chest.

“I still have your coat.” You added as you felt his touch linger on your hand. “You’ll keep it safe for me, won’t you?” He asked. “Of course.” You nodded. “Why, are you going somewhere?” You asked. Draco paused, almost daring himself to look up at you, to meet your eyes one last time, but he resisted and sighed. “It might be a while before you see me again.” He told you, gently trailing his fingertips over the back of your hand. “But… I will see you again, won’t I?” You asked. “I promise, we will.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.” Draco whispered, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before he left you alone in the bathroom, walking away to prepare to carry out his biggest and most dreaded task. And he wondered as he descended into the dungeons, how you could ever love him after he had performed the things he must do.

But Draco had been right, because only months later, with no communication with each other aside from the odd glance here and there, he disappeared completely.

Promise me, you will not come looking for me. It was scrawled quickly onto a page and for the first time in nearly a year, you saw his writing join yours again on the paper of your book. You sighed as you read those words, sitting in your dormitory amidst the horrible realisation of what had taken place, that death eaters had killed Albus Dumbledore.

Leaping up from your bed, you grabbed a quill from your bag and opened the inkwell at your desk before writing your reply. I promise, but you must promise to find me when it’s safe. You wrote back.

Minutes passed and not a single drop of ink came through. Minutes turned into hours and while you thought he might not write back at all, you cast a quick glance at the page before you finally decided to try and sleep to see his words amongst yours again.

I promise.

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Arms Tonite | draco malfoy

Arms Tonite - for @vogueweasley​ ‘s writing challenge (inspired by the song)

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader (ravenclaw)

words count: 10k - lyrics in italic

summary; your relationship with draco went from strangers, to lovers, to strangers again - but it broke the barrier between life and death.

warnings: the word “mudblood”; swearing; death eaters; voldemort; death of a character; some fluff; angst; kinda sad; slow burn; blood mention; (that’s all i could think of, please let me know if there are more!)

a/n: im so so so sorry if thats too long, my loves! i got carried away by this idea - i had it in my mind for so so long i used @vogueweasley 's writing challenge as motivation. again, congratulations mere! You're one of the first writers ive followed here, and I'm happy to see your blog growing❤️

 “Can I sit there?” you asked softly, embracing the pile of books to your chest. They were all for your Potions’ essay, where you really wanted to excel, only to prove Professor Snape what you were capable of.

Since the first year, Snape turned out to be a walking nightmare for all the students in the entire castle, especially for the ones who hadn’t a green tie around their neck. Being a Ravenclaw, the desire to know more was a normal thing for you: always asking questions and making assumptions only to gain more information made Snape grow a feeling of hatred towards you. He’d externalize that hate by giving you extra work, asking you questions you had no idea to answer, criticizing your skills in front of the class – basically, everything he could do to embarrass yourself and to show your classmates that you weren’t as smart as you wanted to introduce yourself.

“What?” the boy asked in confusion, his fingers squeezing the silver quill he was using to take notes from a booked that seemed to be about Transfiguration – a subject where you were at the top of the class, as Professor McGonagall told you proudly.

“I asked if I could stay here,” you repeated in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb the rest of the people who were struggling with their work. “All the tables are taken and that’s my spot, usually,” you added when he frowned his brows, scanning the room.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said careless, going back to his piece of parchment. “That’s my spot usually, too, but I haven’t seen you here,” he whispered as you sat down, in front of him.

“I don’t think we share classes, so I think we don’t go to the library at the same time. But maybe it could be our spot from now on.” Your explanation made the blonde boy look away, his cheeks running paler while the skin of his neck, revealed by the crack of his unbottoned shirt, seemed to burn.

The silence fell on you two, the room being filled only with whispers and quills running their ink on the papers. You really had to impress Snape with that essay, you had enough of his comments and ugly looks – he was a great teacher, a very skilled person, but he had a horrible way to be human – that if he could be considered a human being. Deep down you feared Snape – his cold eyes, his fluttering cloak and his loud steps: all of that gave you goosebumps all over your body. Thinking of those you felt your breath tangling up in your throat, and the letters started to dance in front of your eyes. At first, you looked around the room, searching for the Weasley twins, but it wasn’t a prank: it was the stress which took control over your mind, playing tricks and messing with you. Your throat was dry, and every time you tried to swallow your saliva it felt like you had sand in your mouth. Your tablemate seemed to notice your discomfort, because he looked at you under his eyelashes, his right brow raising in confusion or annoyance.

“What are you doing?” he asked, now looking at you without any reservation.

“Hm?” you buzzed, making eye contact with him. You couldn’t figure out if he was surprised by your daring glare, or intimidated or amused – he only kept on looking into your eyes, not revealing any true emotion.

“You keep on swallowing and it looks like you’re drowning or something.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled politely, which made him go back to his work. But when you kept on acting like you couldn’t breathe, he dropped his quill on the table and look like you with frustration. “What?”

“You’re distracting me, obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “Some of us are trying to focus, so keep quiet or leave.”

It was very rude of him – in your opinion – to talk to you, a complete stranger, like he could give you orders; especially when you did nothing wrong.

“Me too,” you sighed, “It’s only that…” But you stopped in the middle of the sentence, reminding that you didn’t know who you were talking to, and he probably didn’t care.

“Only what?” he asked, making you look at him again. His face was blank – relaxed, like he was an emotionless metal can.

“I’m not that good with Potions, so I’m struggling a little bit,” you smiled with shame, not knowing exactly why you felt that way admitting you weren’t good at something.

“We all are struggling,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal, pointing to his Transfiguration book. “Some of us on simple things, I see,” he commented after he took a sight at the books you chose and the big title you wrote on the parchment.

“Then maybe we could help each other,” you proposed, smiling at him in a friendly nature. He didn’t seem to understand your idea, given the frowned brows and half eyes that were starring at you. “I’m good at Transfiguration, the best if we’re to follow McGonagall’s words, so I could help you if you help me with my Potions essay.”

He took a moment to think, looking back and forward to your books and his, to your parchments and his – yours were filled with paragraphs and his were decorated with meaningless drawings. “I only need some notes, it’s not fair to do your whole essay in exchange of some stupid phrases,” he said like you were trying to fool him.

You chuckled and leaned back on your chair. “Yeah, nothing’s free,” you smiled, “Ok, then I’ll write your notes and you’ll write me the main ideas – after that I’ll write it on my own.” He stayed thoughtful and quiet, looking at your face; you tried hard not to run your fingers to your cheek, searching for dirt or anything that had him starring. “Deal?” you asked.

He held out his hand in your direction. “Deal,” was his only response, waiting for you to conclude the pact. And you did – you gently shook his hand, the skin of his palm feeling smooth against your own, like he was using lots of lotion every night before going to bed. But it was a nice feeling, which led a wave of warmth all over your body along with a good premonition about how he’d do your homework and him, in general.

The two of you switched your belongings, the only item that wasn’t switch being the quills – he was holding his like it was the biggest treasure he ever had; and maybe it was, you thought. Maybe it had an emotional story and he wanted to keep the quill only because of the memories it hold, but maybe he was only careful with what belonged to him. You never really had anyone to help you with your work – when you were a child your parents encouraged you to keep on trying by yourself in order to succeed, and you grew up avoiding other’s help, only to prove them that you could do it alone. After a while, in your third year of Hogwarts, you wanted to be helped, but it seemed like your older housemates were too busy and the ones your age were looking for you to help them. So, to be in the library on a Friday afternoon, helped by a boy you never crossed paths with before seemed like a new – and somehow exciting – experience. It was nice to write on the parchments which had their edges and corners filled with something that seemed to be flowers or some kind of plant with curled leaves. You often asked him questions about what you should or shouldn’t write, and depending on his answer you’d write down more explicit notes, as he kept on commenting how many useless things you’ve wrote in your essay by far – but he was funny, telling you that you should give Snape the essay the way it is so maybe you all could be lucky and get rid of the sulky teacher sooner than expected.

After some time, they boy looked at the silver watch on his left wrist and put down the quill. “My study time’s over,” he announced and you also put down the writing instrument, handing him the papers you tried to write as eligible as you could. “That’s all?” he asked and scoffed.

“Actually, I have more things to add, but…” You tried to say, but he already began to gather his things, closing the Transfiguration book and folding the parchments. “We could meet tomorrow, or Sunday,” you proposed and also got up when he did. You tried to make eye contact with him one more time, not paying that much attention to the height difference between you two.

“Again?” he spoke, fulfilling your wish. His eyes were mesmerizing – such a light blue, reminding you of a sunny sky.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want – it would be beneficial for both of us to finish what we started.”

And he thought that way too, because the next day he was already in the same spot of the library, all by himself, trying to decipher the entangled letter you wrote the other day. “Maybe Snape doesn’t like you because of your handwriting,” he said when you sat down, making you smile and chuckle – an action that caused him to have a little smile in the corner of his lips, too. And those smiles continued to grow on your faces, because besides the theoretical information you two changed, there were also a little funny comment slipped through the conversation.

“See you tomorrow?” you asked while gathering your things, because that time you were the one who needed to leave earlier.

“I can’t,” he simply said. “I have to study.”

“Isn’t that the reason we met here today?” you laughed, “To study together?”

“No, we met today to finish our deal – which is pretty much done,” he explained in a plain voice, pointing to the pages in your hand. The structure of the essay was done; you only needed to put it all together and his Transfiguration notes were enough for him to understand better the subject.

“Oh,” you said in a whisper. “Yeah, right, thank you…” you smiled to him, whishing that he’d realize that you two never introduced each other properly, but he only returned the smile in a polite way.

“You’re welcome,” was all he said and went back to his book, trying to put head to head the theory you made and the information from the book.

That Saturday you left the library with a strange feeling of loneliness – he was a stranger, but he helped you concentrate and also helped you with something that – maybe – was the most important opportunity for you to shut Snape’s mouth. That day flew by without you even realizing, but at night you found yourself thinking about the boy who tapped his fingers on the wooden surface anytime he’d search for the right words but couldn’t stand a strange breathing near him, and a pair of iced eyes was present in your dreams, doing nothing more than watching you with all the possible emotions mirroring in them.

“How was your weekend by far, Hermione?” you asked the girl only to break the strange silence between you two. She was looking for a specific book, and it happened to bump into her when you came to the library to continue your work.

It was a few hours after lunch, on a sunny Sunday when most of the students preferred to study or to simply hang out in the courtyards, lying on the grass. It wasn’t very weird that you had to deal with all those stares when you went to the library on such a beautiful day. You weren’t a bookworm or a nerd, but it was a special thing and you really wanted to have it all done by the end of Monday at least, so you wouldn’t be loaded with other things.

“It was… acceptable,” she responded and shrugged, going back to look for that book on the selves. “As acceptable as it could be a weekend spend in the company of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley,” she continued and you laughed. She was the brain of that trio, and it might be stressful to be their friend – but you were pretty sure it wasn’t that horrible since she stayed by their side for so long. “What about you?” she returned the question, giving up on her searching as she couldn’t find the right book.

Hermione followed you to your usual table, situated in a corner of the room, where the rays of sun came through the wide window and lighted all the pages. You sat down, leaving aside the parchments for some moments of chatting with your friend. “It was… fun,” you smiled, “I was here two days in a row doing homework.”

Hermione laughed while flipping the pages gently. “And Ronald says I’m the one who needs to sort out her priorities.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, “It was fun because I had a study buddy. It was really nice,” the explanation made the girl leave her book and watch you with sudden interest. You knew Hermione wasn’t the type who gossip, so her attention was pure curiosity.

“Who?”

“I don’t really know,” you sighed, a little disappointment in your voice as you looked at your fingers, which were unconsciously tapping on the table. “We never made a proper introduction.”

The Gryffindor girl played with the zipper of her hoodie, looking like he was trying to remember all the persons who ever entered that room. “How was he looking?”

Handsome was the first word you wanted to say, as a joke, but a discarded book landed on your table, right on top of your papers and made you looks at the person whose shadow was covering your face.

“What is she doing at our spot?”

“Malfoy,” Hermione growled with hatred, “I don’t think your father bought the tables in the entire library, too,” she said and made the boy look at her with as much venom as a snake could carry.

So he was Malfoy – the mean boy Hermione would mention from time to time, the one who’d always have a harsh word to tell Ron and the one who despised The Chosen One so much. Your timetable never interfered with their, and you’d usually spend your weekends and breaks with some classmates you were friends with, so you never really crossed path with that Malfoy boy. You knew about him, but you didn’t know him – not until then.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mudblood; learn to speak only when spoken to,” he said in a mockery tone, his eyes going back to you.

You looked at him, and then at Hermione, who seemed to search in you something you couldn’t actually find. “Well?” he repeated, but there was no response from you.

“What does he mean, Y/N? Your spot?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

“He’s… my study buddy,” you spoke and Malfoy raised his brow at the appellative, while Hermione froze.

“I’ll leave you with your study buddy, then,” she whispered to you and left, not before taking the book that was thrown on the table by the Slytherin boy.

Your hand was shaking when you grabbed the quill, going back to finish the essay that you started to properly write last night in your dormitory. “Yeah, take my scrap, you filthy Mudblood,” he commented and watched Hermione leave. He then sat down, in front of you, slightly pushing away from him the chair were your friend sat some seconds ago. “Don’t tell me she’s following you around like a little puppy,” he laughed and you looked at him in confusion.

“She’s my friend,” you simply said.

The confusion was now on Malfoy’s face. “Friend?” he scoffed.

“Don’t you have friends?”

“Plenty,” he responded quickly. “But my friends have my back when I’m in an argument.”

You shrugged and looked down again to your essay. “I’m a neutral person, I’m not picking sides,” you explained. He watched you write without any other interruption, but you were feeling weird to be aware of his presence in your perimeter and being as talkative as a fish. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you wrote your name at the bottom of the last paper. He quickly grabbed them all, smiling at your expression.

“I made some free time to come and read our final product.” He went back to be silent, his blue eyes running from left to right in order to read all the things you wrote more calligraphic, only thinking about his comment and about the nice letters he used to make the summary yesterday. “It’s good,” he said proudly, like it was his own.

“Really?” you asked shyly, not ready to have a criticism on that yet.

“Yes, I see you kept some of my phraseology,” he smiled in a kind way, returning the parchments to you.

“It was really well structured,” you laughed and ran a hand through your hair, blushing when you saw him starring intensely at your face – you really wanted to ask him if there was something on your face.

“It’s perfect, Y/N,” he repeated, “Snape can’t say otherwise. It’s nearly as good as mine are,” he assured you. His response made you laugh loudly, gaining some hissing from Madam Pince; your hands went to your mouth, covering it, and the boy looked at you with amusement.

“Thank you, Malfoy,” you whispered, scared to talk even in a quiet way. You knew how much the librarian hated the loud students, and you really didn’t want to be one of them. To be on her blacklist was something no one really wanted.

“Call me Draco,” he asked and got up. “I have to go, but I’m sure your work will be appreciated tomorrow.”

“It’s for Friday, actually.”

“So you had a week to do it, but you did it right away?” he laughed this time, but he seemed careless at Madam’s Pince hiss.

“What?” you pouted, already annoyed by his laugh. You knew what he was going to say, and it made you somehow ashamed.

“Nothing,” he said to your surprise, “It’s just that… I’ve never seen somebody to be that ambitious when it comes about school.”

“So you don’t make fun of me,” you thought out loud, making him chuckle again.

“Why would I make fun of you for being a determined person?” he asked and you returned his smile, more shyly, and waved him goodbye as you saw him walking away.

It was the last moment when you saw Draco Malfoy – Monday morning you looked for him in the Great Hall at breakfast, lunch, dinner and even after classes – but due to the large amount of students, he was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t put a foot in the library, because you stayed there awhile, doing your homework or reading – more like pretending to do any of those – but he never came. It was like he was swallowed by a big black hole and forgotten by all the people in Hogwarts. Nobody near you mentioned his name, and you didn’t dare to ask Hermione about him after the ‘study buddy’ situation. She said it was all fine between you two, because she knew about your neutral personality. It was simple: you never got into fights yourself or got involved when other people would argue – it was simple that way. You asked her if she was alright after Draco said all those things to her, of course, but when she told you it was alright you didn’t insisted more.

Friday came faster than you had thought and you were quite nervous to hand Snape your essay. All your classmates wished you good luck, even if they were in the exact same situation as you were – not quite the same, actually, because you were the only one asked to stay over class so the Potions Master could have a word with you.

“You wanted to talk to me, Professor?” you asked when the rest of the students left you all alone with Snape, who sat in the front of the class, hands crossed over his chest and a frowned look on his face.

“Obvious,” he spoke in his monotone voice, coming closer to your desk. “What is this, Miss L/N?” he asked, throwing in front of you the essay, all the pages spreading on the table.

“My essay, Sir,” you told him confident, already preparing your speech about how hard you worked on it and how he couldn’t say it was a piece of trash.

“Your essay?” he asked serious, and then he faked a laugh. “I think you mean Mister’s Malfoy essay,” he then handed you another parchment, with Draco’s name on it, neatly written.

You read a few phrases from his work, but there was nothing alike between them aside some expressions – the ones Draco observed you kept from his notes. “I didn’t steal his work, Sir,” you said in a quiet voice, not daring to look him in the eyes. You didn’t need to do that to know how mad he was.

“You didn’t steal it, you copied it.”

“No, I…” but he already made up his mind. He asked you to leave, informing you that you’d get more work to do, along with a week of detention.

Your blood was boiling and you only wanted to scream how much you hated everything: how much you hated Snape, for being a prick, how much you hated yourself, for not being able to do your own homework alone and how much you hated Draco, for ‘helping’ you and then disappearing – but he didn’t disappear, because he was in the end of the corridor, all by himself, his hands on his trousers’ pockets, standing in an elegant posture leaning on the wall. The dark always present on the Dungeons made him look paler that he seemed in the library’s sunrays, but the blue of his eyes was still remembering you of the clear sky in the moment he heard your steps.

“Y/N,” he greeted you from afar, a little smile growing on the corner of his lips. “How was…” but you didn’t give him the occasion to finish his sentence, leaving the dark corridor in a hurry.

It was odd that after a week of thinking only about him, about the blue of his eyes, about the way his voice would seem lighter when he was holding back his laugh, about the cute way he’d smile only a half of joy, you ran away from his presence like he was your worst nightmare when, in fact, he was present in your sweetest dreams.

It was your desire to be alone the one which made you isolate yourself in your room for some good hours, crying and hitting the pillows, throwing them in the walls and then gathering them, only to throw them again. You felt the way Snape’d describe your skills, work or everything you did: trash – you felt like trash. You thought about going to dinner with your housemates when you heard them leaving the Common Room, but you realized that Snape’s face, eating at the teachers’ table would’ve turned your stomach upside down. So you stayed there for another hour, thinking about everything and nothing in particular; you just knew that you were sick of it, sick of everything and you just needed a break.

And that’s what you did: you took a break. You left the dormitory only undressing yourself from the blue robes and went running on the empty corridors. When you left, you weren’t sure where you’d go – but you found yourself in the Astronomy Tower, watching the entire yard and the environs of the castle. The sky was painted in pastel colors, the sun bathing in the red color of the lake. It was beautiful and you wanted nothing than to be the same with all of it.

“I hate it all!” you screamed looking up to the sky, closing your eyes. “I hate Severus Snape!” you screamed again, opening your eyes and looking down. It was a long, long way to the bottom, where the cobbled paths would wait. “I hate that he managed to make me feel so useless,” now you whispered, tightening the metal balustrade between your palm until they became white. You shook the metal as hard as you could, but it stood still; the effort left you breathless, but you still managed to scream from the bottom of your lungs: “I hate myself!”

You had no idea where that came from – it was the first time you thought that way about you, but it felt very honest. You hated how much pressure you’ve put on your shoulders and now that you were too weak to carry it all, you felt worthless. The only thing you knew was that you were crying, so hard that your sobs didn’t let you hear the steps approaching you in such a hurry. The force of the hand that grabbed your elbow was unexpected, making you stumble on your own legs. The warm feeling immediately invaded your whole body as soon as you fell in a pair of arms, which were holding you hard enough not to fall to the ground.

“What the hell were you doing, Y/N?!” he screamed, the image of his face being blurred because of the tears in your eyes. You blinked a few times and there he was: Draco Malfoy, with a worried look on his face but with the same beautiful blue eyes.

“Draco…” you whispered and grabbed the material of his white shirt, “What are you doing here?” you managed to ask without your voice cracking.

“You didn’t come to dinner, and after the way you walk away from earlier…” he said and became paler, “But what were you doing? Don’t tell me you tried to…”

But you shook your head in negation faster than the words he said. “No, of course not,” you said trying to convince yourself more than him. “I was just… having a moment,” you explained and withdrew from his arms, hugging yourself to calm down.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked again and touched your shoulders, his hands burning the skin under your uniform shirt.

“Snape said I copied your essay,” you succeed to whisper after a long silence, the tears coming back into your eyes.

His brows went lower, his mouth in a line. “Have you told him that I helped you?”

“No,” you said, now crying again. He wiped away a tear that rolled on your cheek. “He told me to leave before I could say anything, and now I have detention a whole week.”

“Sh, sh, sh,” he hummed as he pulled you back into his arms, one of his hands laying on your back as the other one was caressing your hair. “You don’t need to cry,” he spoke gently and his movements became clumsy as you cried even harder. “I’ll take care of it, Y/N,” he assured you and suddenly, your tears dried up.

“What?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I… I’ll talk to Snape about it,” he repeated, “It’s not fair to act that way towards you when your essay was so good.”

All the parts of your body were screaming to kiss him only because he was that near to you. But you were too puzzled up to even hear those screams in your head. “You’ll get in trouble too, Draco.”

“No,” he smiled. “Let’s say that Snape owns my father one,” he smiled devilish, and contrary his expectations you smiled like you haven’t been crying until then.

“But why are you doing that?” you laughed and tried not to freak out because he was still holding you.

“So you could own me one later,” he continued to smile even after you hit them slightly in chest. “What? Nothing’s free, remember?”

You bit your cheek, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“So we have a deal?”

“No,” you said and raised a brow. “We have a deal only if you don’t get yourself in trouble by talking to Snape or, even worst, getting me into a bigger mess. You need to succeed in order to have a deal.”

“That sounds like a deal to me,” he smirked and ran a hand through his blonde hair, which seemed more like gray in the light given by the moon.

“We have a deal, then,” you laughed and tighten up a bit the grip on his shirt.

“Don’t ever stay that close to the edge again,” he asked you and you could see the same feeling of anxiety on his face. You nodded your head in agreement and he hugged you again. “You scared the shit out of me,” he confessed.

It was the first time in your life when you felt that somebody was truly worried about you. Your parents would’ve just watch you break down and then get up and try again, telling you that it’s the normal way to educate yourself. But that night, in his arms, you felt that you weren’t the same lonely child. It was a warm feeling, a feeling of a new burning in your heart. And it was a nice feeling.

  I fell in your arms tonight / I fell hard in your arms tonight / It was nice

 You agreed to meet Draco the next day in the Astronomy Tower half an hour before the dinner would finish and you were surprised to see him already there, welcoming you with the same somehow evil smirk he had the other day.

“You own me one,” he said without even waiting for you to say something. “Snape told me he’ll forget about the detention, but you need to make some rephrasing on your essay.” He was proud of his manipulative skills and you could see it in his eyes – there was a little sparkle as you approached him.

“Good job, Draco,” you said smiling from an ear to the other. “I guess I own you one.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

You look over the skyline and went closer to the balustrade, Draco following you closely even after you sat down on the stone floor, your legs hanging on the outside. You seemed to be secure enough, so Draco sat down and looked at the sunset as well.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” he puffed and you punched his shoulder, smiling.

“You’re an idiot, you know what I mean.”

“Why am I an idiot?” he asked and turned to face you with an ugly look.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” you told him quickly. “I call my friends that way when they say something dumb but they’re funny at the same time,” you explained, ashamed that you offended him.

He was silent for a moment and looked at the lake again. “My father uses that term to talk about incompetent people,” he said and you looked away from his face.

“I guess it’s a way to use it, too,” you spoke shy.

“Why do you want to ask me?” he changed the subject, removing the awkward tension between you two.

“Why did you called Hermione Granger that word?” you asked cautious not to upset him with your curiosity.

“That’s what she is,” he said nonchalantly, “She’s a Mudblood, and she is inferior to us.”

“Only because of her blood?” you laughed. “And how do you know I’m not inferior to you too?”

“I made my research on you before talking to you again,” he shrugged.

“She’s superior to both of us in many ways, Draco,” you told him and looked at him in the moment he did the same. “She lives in another world at the same time she lives in this one,” you explained, “We were born surrounded by magic and that’s our only way of living.”

He lour. “Why do you say that?”

“I take the Muggle Studies class,” you smiled proudly.

“Why would you do that?” he scoffed. If you ignored his mentality on that subject, you could say he was really cute.

“It’s interesting,” you started. “They have many objects we have no idea about and they have fairy tales about anything – they’re kind of superstitious.”

“Superstitious?” he asked like he was curious and not like he wanted to mock you.

“Yeah,” you said and got up. “Maybe I’ll tell you about some superstitions one day.”

“Tomorrow night,” he asked you and got up as well.

“You want to know more about Muggles?” you laughed.

He shrugged. “It’s your chance to prove me they’re not inferior to us.”

“Ok,” you smiled and took the challenge.

You left the Tower walking by his side, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he walked you to your Common Room door, wishing you a goodnight. The next day Professor Snape wanted to talk to you again after class, this time apologizing for the way he managed the situation, but you could tell he wasn’t very pleased with what he was saying. When the dinner was nearly finished, you could see Draco leaving the Great Hall without looking in your direction and you knew it was the signal to get up and do the same thing after some minutes. You thought it’d be better if nobody would know where you were going and with who.

“Ready to learn about Muggles?” you asked him with joy as soon as you got in the highest place in Hogwarts.

“Whatever,” he laughed and rolled his eyes.

You brought a book you got last year on your birthday from Hermione, a book about a lot of things the Muggles believe in. You read out loud some pages and Draco only sat next to you, listening. It was somehow therapeutic to read in front of him because he didn’t disturb you, he even looked like he was enjoying it.

“So they even have a specific flower for when somebody dies?” he asked out of a sudden. He was really paying attention.

“Yeah, in some countries,” you smiled. “In Italy, France or Belgium – where it’s made the best chocolate – the white chrysanthemum is well known to be brought at somebody’s funeral. But they also represent loyalty and devoted love, so I think it makes it even more beautiful. They’re my favorites,” you smiled.

“A flower that represents the death is your favorite?” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’ve never seen a chrysanthemum, and that’s something, considering the fact that my mother has a gigantic garden.”

He was often talking about his mother and you deducted that he’s a mummy boy – it was cute to know that he loved his mother dearly.

“I would love to see it,” you smiled politely.

“Maybe you will,” he said and caught you by surprise. “I mean, maybe you’ll see a garden as big as my mother’s,” he clarified when he observed those big eyes of yours.

“Yeah,” you said in a quiet voice, looking back into your book.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t respond him.

You were… sad? Disappointed? It was a strange and groundless feeling given by the idea that you’ll never see the garden of his house, and that also meant that you’ll never meet his mother, who was already painted in your mind like an elegant and kind woman.

“Are you upset?” he asked again and grabbed your jaw carefully, making you form eye contact.

“No,” you said simply, and the honesty in your voice surprised you. It was like all the hard feelings were erased by his eyes, by their calming color.

“Good,” he smiled, “Because you shouldn’t be upset.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I’ll bring you all the flowers from my mother’s garden if you’re not upset,” he traced his fingers up to your cheek, placing a strand of hair behind your red ear – all your emotions ran to your head, making the skin he touched burn.

“Why?” you asked again like a curious kid.

He rolled his eyes in a playful way, trying to pretend he was tired of your whys. “Because a pretty face like yours shouldn’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles,” he laughed and pinched your nose.

“Auch,” you hissed, massaging the end of your nose. “You say I’m pretty?”

“I say it’s time to get you back to your Common Room,” he nodded his head and got up, offering you his hand to help you get up.

The walk to the Ravenclaw’s door was silent, and when you got there it was an even more annoying silence. He only watched you like he was waiting for your next move.

“Uh, I can’t come tomorrow night,” you informed him. “I have to help my roommate study for Transfiguration.”

“So she’s stealing my study buddy,” he joked.

“I’ll see you around, though?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled and you just wanted to kiss that little dimple of his.

So you did – you got up to your toes and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Draco,” you smiled and entered the empty room, all your housemates already being off to their dormitories, probably. Your heart was pouting hard, like it was trying to escape the little cage of your ribs, but your soul was feeling warm and sweet, like honey.

The next day you tried to focus in all your classes, you tried to pay attention to your friends but all you could think of was Draco Malfoy, with his blue eyes and sweet dimple. It was a boring night the one you spent in your room, listening and explaining to your roommate simple things about your Transfiguration class, the same ones that Draco found difficult – even that made you think about him. It was a great relief to walk again on the stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, the excitement making your heart jump with joy. It dropped to the bottom of your soul when you didn’t find him there, and it broke when he didn’t come at all.

Maybe you scared him – maybe he didn’t want you to kiss his cheek, maybe he didn’t want you so close to him. Maybe you screwed it up. And you really believed that when he didn’t come two nights in a row, making you to skip dinner on the third night. You didn’t have the power to cry again, but you really wanted to – you nearly managed to get a tear out of you if it wouldn’t be eagle owl which entered your room through the open window.

“What’s up with you, stupid bird?” you asked in anger, making the owl give you a response in the same tonality. “Easy,” you spoke as you took the little parchment from its claw.

‘You didn’t come to dinner, are you sick? If you are, take a good sleep and get better. — D.M'

You crumbled the little letter and thrown it away telling the bird to leave you alone. You walked from left to right, biting your nails out of anxiety and anger – who was he to ignore you three days and then ask to meet you? You grabbed the letter from the floor and read it again, and the curiosity won against your anger. You grabbed a blue sweater and ran to the Astronomy Tower, but walked the steps so he wouldn’t know the speed with which you came. You were furious at him – you couldn’t wait to scream at him and tell him to fuck off with his unhealthy behaviors, but when you saw him leaning on the stone wall in front of you with a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and a small box on the other one, you just froze on the last step.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted you with a smile on the corner of his lips. You approached him slowly; your eyes going from his face go his hands and back to his hands. “I see you’re not sick,” he said when you were in front of him. “Why haven’t you come to dinner?”

“Why didn’t you give me a sign of living?” you asked straight, searching for his eyes.

“I was… busy,” he said and cleared his throat. “But I asked my mother to get me those,” he smiled and handed you the bouquet of chrysanthemums and the little box. “Open it,” he asked impatient.

You undone the little bow and opened it with one hand, the other holding carefully the flowers. Your hands were shaking. “Chocolate,” you laughed nervous.

“From Belgium, just like the flowers,” he said proud, smiling. “Don’t you like them?” he asked a little panicked when you didn’t say a thing, only watching the flowers in such an examining way.

“I love them!” you said, “I love them, Draco,” you assured them, holding them to your chest like you were scared he’d get them back.

“Good, I hoped you’d say that.”

You smelt them, and your whole soul was dancing – the sweet smell reminded you of the late autumn’s rains, of the lazy sunrays and all the nice skies in the world.

“I love them Draco, but what’s the occasion?”

He massaged the back of his head, avoiding your eyes. “You don’t need a reason to get flowers, Y/N. You deserve them anytime,” he said and your heart exploded at his cuteness. “My mother told me it’d be nice if I would give them to you before anything else,” he said and bite his lower lip immediately after, like he said something he didn’t mean to.

“Before what, Draco?” you asked curious. He was so good at making you all set on fire, unfocused and yet so, so concentrated on him.

“You’re a nice girl, Y/N, really nice,” he said in a quiet voice. His tonality made you thought about a break-up – like he wanted to break the bond that began to form between you two.

“What are you trying to tell me, Draco?” you asked in a harsh tone. “Just say it, ok? You don’t need to bring me flowers and chocolate if you want to say goodbye, it’s not like I’m dying,” you said pointing to the chrysanthemums.

“No, no, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “The white chrysanthemums represent loyalty and devoted love,” he whispered.

“Oh,” was all you could say. “Oh,” you repeated when you figured out what he really meant.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, and you laughed along with him. The sound of his laugh made your heart put itself back together. “So…” he started and came closer to you.

“So?” you said, biting your lips and blinking slowly.

“So may I kiss you, Y/N?” he asked in such a kind voice, all your body going soft at his words. His mother must’ve taught him how to talk to a girl – and she did such a good job.

You nodded shyly and let yourself carried by his hands, which dragged your body closer to his. He gently pressed his lips on your, letting them stay together for a couple of seconds and then retiring. His blue eyes were looking into yours, burning with desire and impatience. Your hands tightened the flowers and the little box harder, and you put them around his neck, getting him even closer to you and smashing your lips back together. His hands were on your waist, grabbing the material of your sweater between his fingers. Your eyes were closed and your body was filled with warmth – you saw nothing and yet, somehow, you were aware of everything in the Universe through a white light.

 White light in your arms tonight / I lost sight in your arms tonight / It was nice

 The next months were full of love and laughs for you – Draco was the most careful boy you’ve ever been with. He still wanted you two to have secret little dates in the Astronomy Tower, where you’d read to him about Muggles and poetry written by them.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute that I listen to you reading about that non-sense?” he asked once.

“It’s poetry, Draco,” you scoffed, “It’s about love!”

Besides the secret dates, he really wanted to go public. He was the type to show you off in front of everyone, only to make sure that every other boys knew that you were off their league but in a kind way – he’d kiss your forehead on the hallways, walk you to classes even if that meant he’d be late to his and gave you endless gifts. You received a lot of chrysanthemums, love letters and sweets anytime his mother would send him a package. Your roommates were jealous of you even if they told you directly that they didn’t like Draco and there was nothing to do about it. Hermione wasn’t so happy either and somehow distanced herself from you when she found out about your relationship, but Draco made you to forget all those things – he was the bad guy in everyone’s story, and even if some time ago he wasn’t even a side-character in yours, he became the climax of your story. You didn’t love Draco for his gift, you loved him truly – you loved him for the kind words, the warm glares, the sweet kisses and the tight hugs. And you knew he loved you too, because he made you feel safe in the whole madness with the Dark Lord and the war everyone was talking about.

“Do you think there’ll be a war, Draco?” you asked one night when you two where curled up into each other’s arms.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he said absent.

“I heard that Harry’s forming an army,” you said and looked up to him, only to see him rolling his eyes.

“Potter isn’t capable to tie his own laces, my love, and you think he’s able to lead an army?” he laughed and that made you roll your eyes. “You’re funny.”

“But you’re the only one taking it as a joke, you’re the one who’s laughing,” you said and he frowned.

“Then I think I have to change that,” he said and his fingers came to your ribs, tickling you.

You started to laugh hard, to fight so you could escape his torture, begging him to stop. “Draco, that’s enough!” you screamed as you felt tears in your eyes, so you grabbed his arm and tried to scratch him playfully to make him stop.

Hissing, he let you go and pulled away from you, his hand over the left arm.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked worried that you hurt him.

“Nothing,” he said in an annoyed voice, getting up on his feet and looking down to you. “I’m fine,” he said and something in your mind clicked. For more than two weeks he’d say that stupid phrase whenever you asked him what happened – he seemed tired and anxious, but whenever you’d ask about him he’d become fine.

“Don’t try to fool me, Draco,” you said annoyed as well and, already on your feet, you’d try to grab his hand and reveal the possible wound.

“I said I’m fine, Y/N,” he repeated and avoided your hands like they’d burn him.

“And I said to stop fooling me!” you shouted and sneaked close enough to him to get his hand away from his arm, but he pushed you harder than he thought – you fell on the ground, a piece of material in your hand; his sleeve – ripped, revealing red lines, scratches – who were older, but reopened by your nails – which were covering the worst thing you could think of: the Dark Mark. The air left your lungs and your head started to spin, the vision becoming blurred.

“Y/N…” he tried to say, coming closer to you but you crawled away.

“What the fuck, Draco?!” you screamed and got up by yourself. “Stay away!” you said when he tried to approach you.

“I can explain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking.

“How on earth you could explain the Dark Mark on your arm?” you shouted again, your hands running in your hair and pulling it.

“Sh,” he said loud, asking you to be quiet. “It’s not what it looks like, my love, I swear.”

You laughed – loud, nervous. “Then what it is?”

“They made me do it, Y/N!”

“They made you get the Dark Mark, become a fucking Death Eater and join Voldemort?” you screamed again and step back when he tried to come closer.

“My father, he… I didn’t want to, Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes starting to get wet.

“You lied to me, Draco,” you whispered. “You said everything will be fine, you said you’ll protect me!”

“And I will!” he also screamed. “I will,” he repeated breathing heavily.

“How? Making me join the Death Eaters so they wouldn’t kill me later?” you mocked him, and you could say it hurt him to see you that way – but you didn’t care.

“Nobody will kill you, Y/N,” he said, trying to calm you. “You’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.”

“A war is coming, Draco,” you said harshly, “The Dark Lord is alive and back and anyone who’s against him is in danger.”

“You’re not in danger, Y/N,” he repeated. “We’re in this together, please, love,” he begged you, tears running down his face.

“We’re not on the same side, Draco,” you whispered.

“I thought you didn’t like to pick sides,” he said like he was trying to make you change your mind.

“We’re talking about a war, Draco, not a fucking fight in the courtyard,” you said and shook your head. “Just… leave me alone, please,” you asked him and started to walk away.

“Y/N, please!” he grabbed your wrist but you pulled away immediately.

“Don’t touch me ever again, Draco Malfoy,” you said in hatred, giving him a disgusted look before leaving him alone in the Astronomy Tower – alone, hurt and crying. He saw the disgust in your eyes, the hate and the fear.

Hard times came for you – you decided to act like nothing was happening, like you had no idea what Draco was and a part of you felt miserable for doing so, but other part was believing him, the other part was still loving him and it was hurting to see him and not run in his arms. You decided to let the time pass and decide what would happen with everything – but the time was cruel, because nothing good happened since that night. Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters, the continuing agony. You became scared to stay alone, thinking that a Death Eater or even Voldemort would show up and kill you – and Draco wouldn’t be there to protect you.

But when the real battle began, you felt all the adrenaline rushing through your body – Professor McGonagall seemed worried but she gave you the power to fight back, to fight for Hogwarts, for your friends, for Harry, for life. You never tried to spell hexes because it wasn’t necessary, but in the battles you had with some Death Eaters you remembered them all – and you casted them loud, pointing your wand in their direction with hatred. You were running on the same old stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, a loud and crazy laugh following you along with a curly hair and dark, mad eyes, thirsty for blood.

“Stop running, little doll!” she screamed when you got up, waiting for her with your wand ready, something that made her laugh. “Stubborn one, aren’t you?” she asked and walked closer to you with tangled steps.

“Crazy one, aren’t you?” you managed to gather your nerve to ask her. She didn’t seem too happy with your comment, because she lifted her wand – before she’d say anything, you screamed the Disarming Charm as loud as you could, making her wand fly from her hand and fall to the ground.

“Well, well,” she laughed, running her tongue over her bloody lips. “You won, now kill me!” she laughed, the sound driving you crazy.

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Kill me!”

“Crucio!” you screamed and the green light flashed from the tip of your wand, hitting Bellatrix Lestrange in the middle of her chest. She fell to the ground, laughing – it was hurting, but Bellatrix have been insane for a long, long time.

“Y/N!”

“Draco?” you said to yourself, watching the boy you loved running to you. He grabbed your shoulders, looking at you from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

You looked at Bellatrix who was still to the ground, and you tighten your fingers around the wand.

“No,” you said and looked back to Draco. He seemed fine and a part of you wanted to scream that he was fine because he was one of them, they wouldn’t hurt him like that crazy woman tried to do to you, but the other part won that battle. You hugged him tight, wanting to make all the things disappear and be just you and him. “I’m scared, Draco,” you whispered.

“You’ll be fine, love,” he said and kissed your temple.

“So she’s the little doll that got you all soft, Draco?”

The fear ran through your body again and you pulled away from Draco, still holding his hands.

“Please,” he said and looked at the crazy woman who got her wand back. He let go of your hand and grabbed his wand, pointing it to her.

“Aw, Draco darling,” she laughed, “Does Cissy know that you’re pointing your want to your family?”Family?

“Aunt Bella, please, don’t hurt her,” Draco breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of her.

“But she hurt me, Draco,” Bellatrix laughed, got her wand in your direction and casted an unspoken spell, only saying your name.

Draco tried to protect you, getting in front of you, but the purple light went through him and entered your body. The pain was indescribable, like all your internal organs were stabbed with hundred of knives. “No!” he screamed at his aunt, who only laughed louder and waved him goodbye before disappearing into a black cloud of smoke.

You’d feel your members go numb, dropping your wand and falling to the ground, making Draco to scream again like he could physically feel your agony. “Y/N!” he screamed.

Some balls of light were thrown in the tower’s direction, by the people outside, and they made the windows in the roof break, falling upon you along with pieces of tiles. Your sight went blurry, seeing Draco through red spots. “What’s happening, Draco?” you managed to ask him.

“You’re fine, my love,” he cried, tightening your shoulders, trying to hug you without hurting you.

“I can’t see you, hear you,” you cried and coughed; he started to sob even harder, watching the blood drop from your eyes and mouth as you tried to breathe. “I don’t feel very good,” you told him as it weren’t obvious.

“You’ll be alright, my love, stay with me,” he begged you.

His tears were falling on your face, mixing with the blood that was leaving your body – Bellatrix Lestrange chose a curse that gave you a slow and painful death.

“Hey, you,” you said, trying to make him pay attention to you. You looked him in the eyes, trying hard to see them clear. “Don’t you think it’s kinda cute?”

“What?” he whispered.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute,” you repeated, “That I died right inside your arms tonight?”

“No! No! No!” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t you dare to do this to me, Y/N! Do you hear me? Stay with me!”

But you were gone – you left that world with a little smile on your lips, with bloody tears on your face and with the memory of his eyes watching you, of his arms holding you. And that made death a less painful thing for you.

 That I'm fine even after I have died / Because it was in your arms I died

 “No, Y/N!” he screamed, realizing you were gone. “Come back! Come back, Y/N, you own me one!”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you whispered while watching him from behind – you could also see your lifeless body, laying on the ground with glass pieces, rocks and blood all over it and it made  you cry. You floated over your body and tried the stupidest thing you could think of: going back inside. But it was impossible – it felt like it was locked. Bloody tears were falling from your eyes, and you damned Bellatrix Lestrange for giving you such an ugly death: you’ll cry blood for eternity on the Hogwarts’ halls as a ghost. “I want to come back, Draco!” you screamed at the same time when he asked you to come back.

 I cry in the afterlife / I cry hard because I have died / And you're alive / I try to escape the afterlife / I try hard to get back inside / Your arms tonight

 The battle was over: Lord Voldemort was now dead, Bellatrix Lestrange was dead along with other Death Eaters, but so were a lot of innocent people: now, some students would stay forever in the castle because they chose to remain behind; they, just like you, were too scared of death and chose an imitation of life. As a ghost, you didn’t really felt like showing to everyone; it hurt you enough to know they missed you, and to see their broken souls when they’d realize you’re trapped in this world as a ghost would be more painful than your death. You knew nothing about Draco for a long time – you stayed in the tower all the time, and you already knew that after some years, when the school would be rebuilt, the little kids would call you the ghost of the Astronomy Tower – that thought made you smile; maybe they’d call you Bloody Y/N, or Bloody Crybaby Y/N, or… whatever name would fit a blood-crying ghost. That’s how you spent many months – thinking, crying, whishing you’d have chose the death.

A loud cry woke you up one day – you looked over to the balustrade, where a tall figure was shaking while looking down, down all the way to the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said and you recognized him easily. “I’m so fucking sorry, my love,” he cried again and you approached him. On the ground, at his feet, was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums – they made your eyes tear up immediately.

“I promised you I’d protect you and I failed,” he whispered. “I hate myself since that day, my love,” he confessed.

To let him know about your presence was a bad idea – he’d be devastated to see you that way.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he spoke to himself, or so he thought because he jumped in surprise when you screamed.

“Wait!”

“Y/N…” he cried, now facing you and crying harder. “You’re… alive?”

“Draco…” you sighed, “What are you doing here?”

He came closer and tried to hug you, but his arms went through you with ease. “You’re… a ghost.”

“Please don’t jump,” you said crying harder than him. It was a horrible image, indeed, to see a blood-crying ghost – but he was in love with you.

“I miss you, Y/N, I want to be with you,” he told you like he asked for permission.

But you shook your head in disapproval. “You won’t like it here, darling,” you smiled. “Please, stay – be happy and live.”

“I love you, Y/N, how could I live without you?” he cried like a little child, helpless.

You pointed to the flowers. “If your love is devoted, you’d spend the rest of your life fulfilling my wish, Draco.”

“Y/N…”

“Stay alive, Draco. I’ll be here, always,” you promised and cried.

He ran his hands through his hair, his blue eyes crying you a river. When he calmed down, he bent over and grabbed the flowers, handing them to you. You cried in pain, but still tried to get them – and you where surprised when you could.

“Come back to me, Y/N,” he said and you tried your best to make his wish come true. You tried to hug him, to kiss his forehead – he could swear he felt your cold skin on his.

“I wish I could, my love,” you said and stayed in front of him, with the sign of his devoted love in your hand.

 And hey (hey), you (you), don't you think it's kinda cute / That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife / That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive / That I died in your arms

#vogueweasley3k #draco malfoy x reader #ravenclaw reader #draco x y/n #slowburn #angst #arms tonite #draco x you #hogwarts #astronomy tower #tw death #tw blood #tw mature languge

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

part 12

ink was getting nervous. Error was coming by at night, and since every other vampire was sleeping, he couldn’t do anything but wait in his garden-

Something wasn’t quite normal with error. He looked pretty anxious, wary even-

 Ink sighed. Life was so empty- not even death could fix that

 He discovered that over time, most vampires could get used to the sunlight after being exposed to it very lightly. He also noticed that vampires couldn’t be murdered unless they were shot or stabbed in the soul

He not only wasn’t affected by the sunlight in the first place, but he had no soul to begin with-

Death wasn’t an option.

Boredom was the only thing that was “killing” him

 Ever since he could remember, life was always so boring

 Empty

 Without any goal to achieve or get going with

 He clenched his fists

The only thing that was following him around and that let him stay alive was…

 Guilt

 For something he could never forgive himself for

Maybe he could fix it?

 He didn’t want to think about it now-

 He traveled inside his garden, wandering around his maze, then sat down near some bushes

He was an immortal being with barely no will to live, but he did have a passion to stay sane

And it ended up being art.

Painting, sewing, designing, sculpting-

Creating was a nice compensation for destroying everyone’s lives…

 Now that he was thinking about it…

…….

 Wait, who was that?!

 Ink noticed a shadow fly away from his garden. ‘Right when he had some inspiration to draw’. He ran to them, but he realized they already left.

It was probably another vampire, but the vast majority preferred to go out at night since they won’t be so visible to the mortals. Though it was unusual for a one to fly off so fast and early in the morning. The sun was bright, and even he felt pretty nauseous staying on spot without anything to shield himself from the heat of it.

Even so, he stared at his surroundings, curious to see if the person left something, when he noticed a crispy letter on the grass.

Ink sighed, who could it beee?

He painfully leaned down to catch the letter, and opened it.

Right, it was him.

Just when he thought he’ll get to talk to him personally-

He sat down and read the long paragraph that decorated its paper.

 …

 “…oh-“

 He got up and dusted off his clothes from the remaining dirt and leaves that stuck to him, then trailed off to his castle-

 “Looks like the meeting is still ongoing”

 ******

 His steps were heavy,

And he was getting weaker-

He collapsed on the ground

It was so painful to be alive

And he hated it

He HATED ink for what he did!

He-

He…

….

Well, the forest wasn’t a good place to fall unconscious in, so he painfully got himself up.

He could hate ink all he wanted, but the mortals were even worse

If only he could just KILL THEM ALL

ALL OF THEM

Ugh-

 “…”

 Huh

Crying?

Him?

Out of character, right?

He wiped away the tears that were slowly forming themselves in his sockets. He had to- he had to go and ask for help like the idiot that he is! He…he didn’t want him to-

…

Die? Who? What the flip was he even doing in that forest anyways?!

Oh yeah, heal himself

Obviously

He sat by a tree and painfully tightened the holes and scars with bandages after carefully removing the bullets and disinfecting the injuries with his magic. He really didn’t want to see him again,

But he didn’t have a choice anymore

********

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

He sat on his sofa, slowly waiting for his guest’s arrival in front of his large window.

He closed his eyes patiently, then sighed calmly

 “nice seeing you again, error”

His silhouette slowly appeared in front of him, threatening as always.

“…”

He looked away, a frown still in place.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to see me, but god can you be stubborn!” ink pouted. They knew each other for years, but one thing that didn’t change was the fact that error was never happy to see him

Nor to spend time with him

Actually, the times where he’ll be “happy” is when he almost “kills” him, or when he leaves-

Yeah, a nice “friendship”

“I swear if it wasn’t for an important reason I would’ve never stepped a toe in your hell of a castle!”

“but you still came here. And I’m sorry if I am worried about this reason that’s so important it actually made you sit here, and talk to me for once.”

Error flinched at his sarcastic tone, and he thought about giving a spiteful remark back, but he sat on the sofa in front of him, directly facing the window, choosing to ignore his off handed retorts to leave that place as soon as possible.

“… well-“ error tried to collect his words, obviously tired of what had happened to him this past weeks.

“there is a small town very far away from here who sent a…detective? Spy? Whatever, A trained mortal to hunt down the vampires while being hidden amongst the normal villagers, and he’s been very wary of YOU especially.”

“He had been giving some “ideas��� to the mortals, and if he manages to convince them to overthrow your rules and influence, he’ll quickly discover your intentions and the hidden place of multiple thousands of vampire, causing the extinction of the race in a second. And while I flipping hate your guts and I despise you all so much, vampires and mortals alike, I can’t really be all that powerful and safe when the humans can win over me; the amount of vampires decreasing giving them “courage” to kill the remaining.”

He stated the last sentence with disgust. He didn’t give two cents about vampires, even less monsters or even humans, which he hates even more, but ink’s motives were vastly different

ink loved vampires, because he had to; Being the original vampire who first existed. He was the reason so many mortals turned into those people, feared by the pitiful society called the living. And just like that he and the other vampires that followed began growing stronger in number and power.

You could say that he didn’t have a choice- that it was in his nature; he’s a vampire! He can’t help but drink blood, in the case of monsters, magic-

But

No

Not only can vampires resist the urge to drink blood, by simply eating meat, but in ink’s case

He doesn’t even like drinking blood nor magic

He was more into literal ink

The only reason he drank blood in the first place was to get feelings

The first vampire didn’t have a chance to get a soul, so he discovered he could get feelings another way.

And he despised doing that

Because

Of how he discovered

That-

“INK!”

Ink looked at error, realizing he must’ve been daydreaming for too long

“…”

Ink got up, then undressed himself from his coat.

“Huh? What the he- what are you doing???”

“Well, suffice to say we’re going to catch that little comedian and eliminate him as soon as we can”

Error didn’t expect such bluntness from ink, but he couldn’t care less about that, more like, he was caught off guard by the “we”

“Hey, hey, hey- this is YOUR job, mister! It is not my business to attend”

Ink looked back at him, and gave him a warm smile

“Didn’t you say earlier it affected you if all the race disappeared? Wouldn’t you want to stop that from happening? I might add that you wouldn’t come here unless you really had to, so is it just for a message or did you need my help?”

He hated it when ink gets smart

But at the same time he was right

Though there was still another reason on top of it all, but he kept his mouth sealed

That bastard didn’t need to know

“…fine. What to do now”

Ink’s smirk became predatory

“What makes you think we’ll need to do anything?”

Error flinched

“What?”

Ink giggled-

“Well, it’s getting quite late don’t you think?”

Error looked back at the window, the moon shining bright in a cold, dark night

“Ink! I need answers!”

Ink paused his laughing, then smiled

“I’ll tell you more about it if you’ll be my guest.”

He bowed slightly, still keeping eye contact with the other

Error tensed- he didn’t know what to do now

“…is this a trap?”

Ink looked surprised at that statement, but quickly rectified

“Not at all!”

“Then what makes me believe that you’re not going to kill me in my sleep!”

Ink paused a second, kind of offended by the other’s skepticism when he just wanted to welcome him

Well, guess it can’t be helped

“I promise you that I will answer your questions tomorrow, It’s just that you might be exhausted from the constant travelling- the bruises and scars look like they just need a bit of attention, and you-“

He trailed off, citing multiple reasons why he needed a shelter from him, and error quickly cut him off

“Okay- okay- I get it”

It did make him feel a bit better though, considering ink takes his promises very seriously, so he might as well stay for a night

“Just ONE night”

He crossed his arms, and ink chuckled

“Sure, sure-“

He smiled

“Goodnight then, error”

*******

“well, how about we talk more about it in a more...private environment, yes?”

**********

ink belongs to @comyet​/ @myebi​

error belongs to @loverofpiggies​

dark cream belongs to @zu-is-here​

well, it took a while to update you guys, but i’m really happy about it!

error holds a huge grudge against ink- what is it? still haven’t finished that part yet guys ;D

also, the illustration is a spoiler for the next part focusing about ink, but as they say- it’s not a real spoiler if you have no context right ;)?

((remind me not to paint an illustration for a writing i haven’t updated in a while it just makes it worse))

also, the reason i haven’t drawn error once is because i can’t decide on a design he often hides his face with a very dark cape. i will give you guys a sheet with everyone’s faces (protagonists only) their mouths (the difference between their fangs) and their markings/eyelights

very exited to write more about ink though- it’s going to get interesting very soon ;)

first- previous- next

#art #my writing #my writings #my art #vampireAU dark cream #part 12 #ink #undertale multiverse #undertale au #UTMV #ink sans #ink!sans #error #error sans #error!sans #aaahh- #finally! #the illustration was going to be normal but guess what the body was blended into one layer- #i am so lucky for the background but still #i decided to paint over the layer and honestly it's not that bad this way either #i did forget to add something but it's very small so no biggie #this part was fun to write though #took a while but i still really like it #thank u guys for waiting <3

[not-xpr-art]

Art Advice #2 - How to beat art block!

Hi again everyone!

This is the second instalment to my Art Advice tag offering hints and tips for artists of any skill level! 

This time I’ll be going into ways I’ve found that help me to combat art block or creative ruts. Of course, these may not work for you, and a big part of art is learning about what things do and do not work for you, but I hope it at least offers some advice to anyone who struggles with art blocks!

How to beat art block. 

Getting into an art block can be one of the most frustrating things as an artist. Especially if you’ve tried to dedicate a window of time to drawing something, only for your brain to ‘nope’ out and give you no motivation. I’ve found it can often make you feel worthless as an artist, particularly when you see fellow artists continuing to produce countless amazing artworks, and this kind of self depreciation only adds to your inability to produce anything. 

And I’m not about to suggest some magical cure of art block, since I don’t believe there is one, but I hope that my advice can at least help lead you towards getting out of these vicious circles of art block & self deprecation!

Tip #1 - Explore other mediums 

I feel like as artists we get incredibly ‘comfortable’ in the mediums we’re familiar with. For me, that’s digital and pencil drawing. I’ve been doing pencil drawing for as long as I can remember, and digital for a little over 7 years, so I’ve become very comfortable in using them. 

However, I think that a good way to not only help combat art block, but also to expand your art horizons, is to step out of that comfort zone into a new field of art. 

Of course, I’m not saying that I expect every artist to go from pencil drawing for 10 years to suddenly picking up a paint brush and doing some oil painting. But instead that every so often maybe just try and dabble in mediums you’ve not used as much, or haven’t used before at all. A lot of shops sell pretty inexpensive paints, pens or pastels nowadays, not to mention a quick Google search will give you tips on how to use the particular medium if you’re not sure how to start. 

A thing I want to mention here, too, is that I think it’s important to not to expect yourself to be automatically ‘great’ at a particular medium. For example, last year I did my first embroidery piece. I had wanted to do embroidery for a long time, and did actually enjoy it a lot (even if it was incredibly time consuming lol). But I found myself dissatisfied with the finale result. 

And in a way this is because I expected myself to be perfect at embroidery after just one attempt, which is ridiculous of course, since any kind of art takes years and years to ‘master’. And when I look back, I can’t help but think ‘why does it have to be good in the first place’? Why did I put this pressure on myself to be a sudden Master of Embroidery, when surely the main goal of any kind of art is to some extent the enjoyment of the process? 

This is still a mindset I think a lot of artists will relate to, and is something I’m trying to combat myself. 

Recently I painted some fake plastic eggs inspired by the Polish folk art tradition ‘Pisanki’. They took a long time, and my neck hurt a lot from being hunched over and painting little dots, but honestly I really loved the whole process of them! Painting on 3D objects isn’t something I do a lot, and I also rarely do purely pattern-based work like this, so it was a real deviation from my comfort zone.

In a way, exploring other mediums is like a creative respite. Giving yourself a break from what you’re familiar with not only helps you to be inspired by a wide range or arts, but when you return to the mediums you enjoy the most, I’ve actually found you appreciate them even more!

(Really, nothing makes me more appreciative for digital art than painting a wrong dot on the surface of an egg and not being able to rub it out...)

Tip #2 - Try different styles

Another tip, similar in many ways to the first one, is to try different styles of art every once and a while. 

Like with materials, I think we as artists can get overly caught up in ‘our style’ of doing things. Whether this is a particular stylised or cartoonish way of drawing, or doing realistic art, or even sticking to a particular colour scheme. And I think especially in the world we live in, where artists have to make themselves as ‘consumer friendly’ as possible, which often means having a ‘recognisable brand’, it can feel like we have to do our art in a particular way, otherwise people will lose interest in it. 

I think this is harmful for a lot of reasons. Partly, I feel it stifles artists creativity to force themselves to do one style and one style only. I also feel it assumes that non-artists are so single-track minded that if an artist were to post works of art that involve different styles, then they would immediately lose interest. 

So my advice to any artist who has a particular style is to once in a while try out some different styles. It doesn’t have to be big pieces, and it also doesn’t have to be the polar opposite of what your style actually is. But instead if can be as simple as doing a ‘style challenge’ (something I’ve done in the past), or even just trying a different way of drawing or painting! 

In a way, changing your medium and changing your style occasionally go hand in hand. I particularly find that how I draw people will change with the kinds of mediums I use, or even when I start using a new brush with digital art.

For example, I recently did this super quick sketch of Kiki Layne, because I really loved the reference image, and it came out a lot more stylised than my art usually is. And this is almost entirely down to the brush I used (which was an ‘ink’ style brush, in comparison to the ‘pencil’ or ‘pen’ brushes I usually use for sketching). 

This isn’t a drastic change in style for me, but I do think even trying to do rougher or messier styles of art like this can allow you to see your art in a new light! 

(A side note here, but I already pretty much change up my style with every piece because I have no interest in being ‘marketable’ lol... But I’m definitely not suggesting everyone should be like me, just every so often changing up your style I believe can be really beneficial!)

Tip #3 - Changing subject matters

This one is essentially the same as the other two, and I’m sorry if this comes across as repetitive, but I think another great way to help beat art block is by changing up the kinds of things you draw!

Being predominantly a portrait artist, I rarely go out of my way to draw things like trees or birds or cups or whatever. But I know that often when I feel myself entering a kind of creative rut or art block, it’s because I’ve been drawing too many people & my brain is sort of all people-d out lol... 

(this is a tree I drew in oil paints midway through last year because I was feeling particular people-d out at that point)

So I think occasionally drawing other things, and going out of your art comfort zone, can help to improve your creativity. And hey, who knows, maybe you’ll end up incorporating something you drew randomly into a new artwork!

TL;DR (/conclusion)

So, remember that exploring other mediums, changing up your regular style and choosing other subject matters can all help in beating art block! Of course, you don’t have to do them all at the same time, but instead just dipping in and out of them as you produce your regular work can be highly beneficial! 

I mainly wanted to make this post not to say that by doing all three of these things, you’ll magically be free of art block forever, because that’s just not true. (I’m someone who does a lot of these things pretty regularly, but still gets into art blocks every now and then). I instead wanted to inspire you to deviate from what you are usually drawn to as an artist. 

The world is your creative oyster, so don’t be afraid to explore it! 

~

I hope you enjoyed this post about ways to beat art block! I may make a part two if people are interested since there are a lot of other things that I think can help in improving creativity!

#art advice #art block #how to beat art block #creativity #art discussion #artists on tumblr #this is about 1300 words long btw #i honestly DID try not to ramble pffffft #anyway i hope someone found this at least slightly useful!

[quillsandsabres]

The Crawling King - Book Review

At the library a couple days ago, a cover sitting on a stand caught my eye:

The book is called The Crawling King, written and illustrated by Einar Baldvin. It contains seven short stories, all of which fall under the horror. Snippets of writing exist between stories as well. Illustrations accompany every story. I am not an artist, so I can't comment much on the artwork other than how much I loved it. They look mainly like ink drawings with thick line art and are often shaded with scribble or blots. I appreciate how the art changes in some aspects to better fit the atmosphere of the story (for example, using colors vs. just black and white, or varying the “cleanliness” of the line art).

Now for the writing itself:

Baldvin's writing style made me a fan. Each of the stories reminded me of fairy tales, except even darker. Little dialogue exists and the sentences are fairly straightforward. Yet, when the story needs it, Baldvin concisely explains monsters and gut-wrenching horrors that leave me reeling. I don't read horror much, but the ideas presented here feel wonderfully fresh—almost inspirational for my own writing.

The pacing also stood out to me. Sometimes, when I already figured out what the conclusion or twist would be, the story felt as though it was going too slowly. Otherwise, the events unfolded quickly, but not so fast that I missed an event or had to go back and reread. Baldvin slows down when describing the monsters I mentioned above, almost forcing you to look the beast in the eye before letting you move on in the story.

However, as one general criticism, I have to say the stories are hard to read sometimes. The font is a little confusing and in some short stories, such as one titled "Hunger," the increasingly messy tatters of paper forced me to reread sentences over and over, unable to figure out what a word was meant to be. I remember actually just moving on once or twice since I spent far too long struggling to read it. I know this was likely a conscious design decision, but they could've made the text easier to read by perhaps writing the words in a different color, like a blood red. Overall, this is a small issue that hardly tainted the experience.

Also, as I mentioned above, I could reasonably see the conclusion of the story sometimes just by reading the first few lines. This is likely due to foreshadowing, but also partially because some stories are very predictable. Predictability isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it did make the stories drag more than anything. As a result, some of the stories were forgettable or annoying.

For anyone who wants a further review of some of the short stories (including spoilers), I'll put my thoughts on my favorite and least favorite story below. If not, skip to Final Thoughts for my rating and the link to purchase the book.

Favorite: “The Fool who Thought it Could Play the Clavichord”

First of all, this title describes me to a T, so of course I was drawn to it.

Second, to summarize the story, a Fool played the clavichord every year in the town festival. They played terribly. However, the townspeople were happy to plug their ears with cotton so that they could applaud their cherished Fool.

One day, two visitors arrive to the town, just in time for the annual festival. But, after hearing the Fool's performance, the two immediately head backstage and cut the Fool's hands off. The Fool runs away and dies outside the town.

In town, a series of spiders found his hands and drank the blood streaming from them. They communicate with the hands, telling them where to crawl. The hands find and grab the two visitors, dragging both to the forest where the Fool's body lay. The spiders used their silk to reattach the hands to the Fool's body, and the Fool strangles the two to death.

The town mourns the loss of the Fool by leaving a clavichord on the stage when he was supposed to perform. However, the rotting corpse of the Fool would appear each year just to play for the people, more beautifully the more years passed by, for as long as the town existed.

This story's tone takes a far different tone compared to the rest of the stories on the list. The ending feels bittersweet, rather than sickening, twisted, or mockingly sad. The Fool and the town's love of the Fool felt refreshingly sweet amongst the darkness of the story, and even spiders, usually villains, are painted in a good light thanks to them helping the Fool. I appreciate that, even though the Fool was not good, the villagers and even the Fool's family did their best to support the Fool's performing, something that doesn't always happen to people in the current day. Many people struggle to really enjoy an activity when they aren't good or are afraid they may not be good. The only difference is that, in real life, those people will get better, unlike the poor Fool in this story.

Least favorite: "Mother"

A boy named Jarin visits his mother, but instead meets a giant centipede that claims it is his mother. The centipede forces Jarin to stay there. In an attempt to find his actual mother, Jarin tries to enter the bedroom every night. The centipede blocks the way almost every time, but when he finally could peer inside, he witnesses a horrific scene: his mother, momentarily escaping the centipede, before succumbing to dust, signaling the rebirth of the centipede. Jarin continues to try to enter the bedroom each night to see his mother for at least a second, eventually staying so long that he convinces himself that he is happy living like this.

The artwork for this story is some of my favorite and the premise is highly interesting. However, the part that gets grating is the narration. Multiple times, the narrator will state something about how a mother's love kept Jarin from leaving. The story, being only about 10 pages, only really needed this statement once to get the point across. The repetitions continued though, and felt tiring or like a jarring tangent from the story. Understandably, love is a strong motivator in many stories and in life, but stories can accomplish this without rubbing the motivation in the reader's face. Other than the grueling description of the mother's fate, not much stands out about the story.

Final Thoughts: 

I would highly recommend this to anyone who is a fan of horror. For anyone hesitates to consume horror, just know that I am a coward. So if I could handle it, you can too.

Star Rating: ★★★★☆

Please check out the book and some other illustrations on the author’s tumblr, @einarbaldvin​ !

#book #book review #book recommendations #book related #writing #einar baldvin #booklr #the crawling king #fantasy horror #horror #fantasy #graphic novel

[a-table-of-fics]

Cull to Adventure, Chapter 5, Draft 1

[[As Tumblr increased the size limits for posts, I can finally put this chapter draft all together.]]

Marie was already in a sour mood, having woken up far earlier than preferred. But it got worse as she realized she might as well have slept in; hardly anyone was around today. The heat wave, combined with the fact that all games were postponed until the respawn points have power again, meant that no one was around. Marie knew she couldn’t move too far from where the Outpost was without drawing unwanted attention, but it was a bit demoralizing. She was glad she had the parasol for the scant shade it provided in the midday sun, but she still tugged at her kimono every so often.

Well, if she wanted to find her cousin and the stolen Zapfish, she would have to do it herself. She didn’t want a second celebrity disappearance to cause more chaos, but she didn’t have much choice. Agent 2 would have to complete the rescue mission alone.

As she looked in the Outpost for her Charger, she debated whether Gramps should be alerted at this point. She decided against it, still; he was probably stressed enough about his mission with Agent 3, and she didn’t want him throwing himself in danger trying to find Callie. That was her job, darn it!

She opened a drawer and found her charger waiting, but…where was her uniform? The armored hoodie, the short, the boots, even the headset were all missing. She rustled around; maybe a bit of disorganized Callie rubbed off on her…but no, they were gone! Someone was in here! They took the Splattershot and one of the Ink Tanks, too!

A flash of panic came over Marie; someone had come in, and the outpost was breached! But… wait, why wasn’t her charger taken? Or any other supplies? Just the Agent getup and weapons—Oh.

Oh no.

She ran out of the shack, stumbling over her kimono a few times as she went for the manhole to Inkopolis. She had to get to Ammo Knights, and fast. It was lucky there wasn’t really anyone in the Square; while Marie took care to make sure she wasn’t immediately recognized by the adoring public, she didn’t care as much in the rush she was in.

The doors to the Ammo Knights store burst open the moment she unlocked them. Sheldon barely had time to look up in shock before the idol was in the back, frantically booting the computer up. Several monitors came up, each showing different angles of a new part of Octarian territory. None of the cameras could see anything, but when Marie put the headset on and heard panting and slight whimpering, her suspicions were confirmed.

Cull had gone into Octo Canyon alone.

Marie took a deep breath, turned the mic on, and coughed politely.

“Eh—” started Cull’s yelp, before he remembered where he was and clammed up.

“Oh good, you remembered the headset,” Marie said, keeping her voice level. “Okay, I think we can get you through this, but… I’m not sure where you are…”

“C-came in a-and made it to ch-checkpoint…”

Marie checked. The simulated sunny beach area in Octopolia did have a trail of green, including some inflated sponges. And it led right to a smaller respawner, directly in front of a massive road of pink ink. From where the camera was situated, Marie could see a Balloon Fish, but there were a few things behind it that were too blurry to see.

“They got some- some kinda robot b-bombs!”

“Octopods?” Marie asked. “Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? They just run at you.”

“…B-but that one at the start was so fast…C-can I really take more than one in a f-fight…?”

Marie leaned back in her chair, noting where the blurs were.

“You don’t have to, ex-Agent 4! If you can take that Balloon Fish, the Octopods should all pop with it!”

“B-but if I go up there, w-won’t they pop it and…?”

“Nah, they’ll run up to try to blast you. The Balloon Fish’ll be fine!”

Bad time for a joke, Marie realized, as she saw something shake in the respawner.

“Look, look,” she said, frantically trying to clear Cull’s head of some of the anxiety. “All you gotta do is keep your distance! Pop that balloon before the Octopods get to you.”

Cull finally surfaced, out of the respawner, and swallowed. He looked at the expanse of Octarian pink before him; it was going to take a lot of ink to even get to the Octo-bombs. He started firing, and Marie saw that his attention was divided between his path-making and the upcoming encounter.

“Hey, eyes on the prize, kid, not the road!”

Well, now the kid’s movement was slower, but at least he seemed more alert.

A thought came to Marie.

“…Ignore that when you start driving, ok?”

The Octopods started to rush in, but it was too late. Cull had already hit the Balloon Fish, taking the bombs and their weird red balloons with them. Octarians had the strangest ways of holding Power Eggs.

“Nice.”

That just left a layout of crates in a flattened “u” shape against the wall, a wall which had two Balloon Fish attached to it. As Cull looked up and around, Marie took a moment to swap through the cameras, finding a launchpad at the top, and the next camera showed a checkpoint. Thankfully, nothing between there and their current position Cull would have to worry about.

“All right, so just pop those balloons and swim up there. Nothing to worry about.”

Cull looked, hesitantly, but nodded. The Balloon Fish made short work of those boxes and covered the wall in green. But… he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. Marie could hear sheepish mutters of “uh” and “oh boy” over her headset. She was about to ask what the holdup was, maybe throw in a joke about enjoying his handiwork, but all that came out was “wh” before she realized the problem – he was a slow swimmer when it wasn’t a vertical slope.

And she had seen the kid climb, too. This looked like a tougher thing to scale, sure, but his grip back then was impressive, and she was sure he could have figured something out. At the very least, it would probably be better than him struggling to swim up like he would have to now.

“Okay kid,” she said, attempting to hide her haste in correcting this, “I don’t usually recommend this, but you might want to try a running jump here.”

“O-okay…”

Marie watched as the ex-Agent stepped back, steeled himself, and sprinted to the wall. He jumped, and Marie thought he was going to slam into the wall, his squidforming was so close. However, it wasn’t close enough to conceal the fact his tentacles were… well, half-gone. He disappeared in the ink in a flash, but Marie could still tell, especially as he splashed and struggled to get the vertical movement.

Marie couldn’t do much more than watch; explaining how to swim to a fellow Inkling would just be dumb, and she wasn’t good at motivational platitudes. Still, she could try to encourage.

“Almost halfway there. Just keep breathing.”

“Just got past the second Balloon Fish; you’re almost there!”

Cull finally slipped over the edge onto wooden floor again. He couldn’t even kidform, and Marie could hear him panting and fully view his squid form.

His fins were much more disk-shaped than most, making his silhouette look less like an arrow and more like a mushroom with a point on top where his mantle ended. His skin had a spotted texture, as if someone had lightly sprayed him with darker green paint. More prominent, however, were his eight arms, all irregular stumps of what was expected, clearly from an injury long ago. His two tentacles, while about as long as most Inklings’, were notably thinner, and showed the same signs of being cut off at the end.

And Marie had sent him headfirst into danger. Worse yet, he refused to leave.

Cull wasn’t panting for too long; he soon kidformed, and was silent on his walk to the launchpad. Marie wasn’t sure what to say; she may like snarking, but humiliating someone was something else entirely.

A few quick key presses, and Marie could watch him land on the next section, where there didn’t seem to be much going on. There was a single sponge floating in the middle of a gap in the road, but not much else to see other than a few pillars. As Cull tentatively clambered down in case there was something, Marie switched to the next available camera. She could see Cull fill the sponge with ink to make a bridge in the distance, but more importantly, there were patrolling Octarians moving in a synchronous circle on some grates that were jutting out of one of the pillars.

“Octotroopers above you,” Marie called out, as Cull walked forward. She could see him step back onto the sponge, looking up and spotting the enemies. He tentatively moved forward, but never so much that he committed to a plan before stepping back. Thankfully, neither Octo seemed to have seen him, their gaze focused squarely on what was in front of them rather than what was below.

“C’mon,” Marie said, after about fifteen seconds of this, “You gotta do something if you wanna get outta here!”

“Uhm…”

“Oh for— just go! Take ‘em out and find a way up!”

Well, at least he was moving forward. The bad news was, the Octarians saw him, and began firing shots through the grate. At least the ex-Agent 4 was aware of this, and trying to zig-zag a little bit. He made it under the grate, with only a few spatters of pink on him for it. When he shot straight up and splatted one of the Octotroopers, however, his reflexive ducking was not enough to stop himself from being coated in green ink.

Despite herself, Marie had to stifle a snicker. Maybe it was just a needed release from stress, but there was something adorable about that pratfall. It reminded her of something that happened when she herself was younger, when she played one-on-one with Callie. The exact same thing happened to her, except she completely missed Callie…

“Y-you there?”

Marie took a breath, composing herself. Cull didn’t need the idea that she was laughing at him, nor did he need to hear her worrying about the other Squid Sister.

“Yeah, um… look for a way up the pillar. Looks like the grating goes to another floor… Just watch for that Octoslob and you’ll be fine…”

But Cull wasn’t looking up now. His attention was caught by something out of range of the cameras. He fired ink offscreen, slowly and carefully. Marie didn’t hear any return fire or Octarian shouts from his microphone, but all the same, this was concerning.

“Uh, I said ‘up’ the pillar…”

“Th-there was a lot of pink ink over here…J-just want to be sure…”

“I understand that,” Marie said, quietly kicking herself for not thinking of the possibility of an ambush, “but they’d have a hard time chasing you up. You might be better off—”

She heard the sound of wood breaking, and hoped to the Crane that Cull was alone; she’d be hard pressed to help him if she couldn’t see.

“Huh…Is that…?” he said, after a pregnant pause.

“Hmm? What was that?”

“N-nevermind, I must be mistaken…”

Marie heard some paper rustling, and then some grunting and splashing before Cull emerged from behind the pillar, now on the second floor. He took a few breaths, leaning against the column, before finally heading to the wall.

After making a break through a few more Octarians and some kind of wall-cleaning robot, he made it to a dead end. Behind a bunch of crates destroyed by a nearby Balloon Fish, there was nothing but a sheer drop to the facilities miles below. To his left, he could just see a large wooden wall, with the launchpad there. He groaned.

All Marie could say was “Sorry, kid, but you gotta make it through this.”

Cull stepped back to look, but he didn’t know if he could make another climb like that so soon. Instead, he looked to the re-inflated Balloon Fish, and then at the wall; not even at the launchpad!

Marie was at a loss for words when she saw the kid start clambering onto the enormous ink bomb, and rather quickly at that. Sure, Cull slipped once or twice, but he never once lost his grip. Within fifteen seconds, he was wobbling on top of it, looking almost like an eight-year-old bouncing on a waterbed. He sat down and started rocking, as if he was trying to get comfortable.

“Okay, look,” Marie finally said, “I get it may be tiring, but that’s no excuse for lazing around and…”

She stopped when he stood up, the Balloon Fish rolling back so far that Marie stood up, shocked at how far over the ledge Cull was. Cull, for his part, had an expression like he swallowed a sunfish whole, but kept his eyes to the wall he had to climb. He took one step forward, waiting for the Fish to roll enough…

And then he jumped. His hands reached out, and he was able to grab onto the ledge. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have been able to keep his grip, but it was dawning on Marie that he was a whip-lash squid.

He hoisted himself up, finding another piece of Sardinium, then looked over the edge to see about that launchpad. It was a simple swing down, and Cull was on his rapid way to the next area.

Marie was there to witness each remaining step. The ambush from above, where Cull leapt screaming into his first Splashdown. The attack immediately after, where he managed to actually take one or two of the Troopers before they even landed. Cull getting splatted again by the remaining Octarians, though he didn’t gasp as frantically when he respawned this time. He was able to finish off the other Octotroopers and make it to some more sponge-scaling situations and an easy battle.

After a bridge made from sponges filled with Balloon Fish ink, Marie’s eyes widened. Up ahead, a bulbous flying thing she knew all too well, and she was about to cry out a warning, but stopped herself. She was already dealing with a bit of a nervous wreck; no sense in giving him a heart attack in all three of his.

Instead, she said, as plainly as she could, “An Octobomber. Gross.”

“What—” Cull started, before yelping. He just saw a Splat Bomb land by him, and it wasn’t his.

Marie sighed as he respawned. Even if she didn’t want to scare the kid, that warning may have been less than helpful.

“Sorry, squid,” she said, apologetically. “Didn’t want to scare you…”

Cull walked back over to where he was, far more slowly this time. Shooting gobs of purple at him was one thing, but now they were hurling bombs at him!

“Ugh… how close is the Zapfish?”

Marie blinked. She hadn’t even been looking for the Zapfish; she was just making sure this kid got out alive.

“Um…”

She could see Cull looking around, mostly up and at the corners of platforms. She assumed he was looking for the camera, but he was nowhere close. At least it kept him safe while she re-calibrated the ZapSeek program that Sheldon wrote.

“Let’s see… the Zapfish is… uh…”

“Ye—?” was all Marie heard in response, before the computer suddenly went black. Her eyes widened, and she frantically mashed the power button, but all she heard was the equally frantic clicking of the button.

Sheldon opened the door behind her, frantically pulling out a set of keys. He dashed to a caged area behind the computer, where he kept the generator.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, trying each key in turn as fast as he could, “Without Zapfish, we gotta rely on this generator, and as you know, this is an old thing, and the fact is, it’ll take a bit to refuel it and start it up again, not to mention the computer booting time—”

“Sheldon!” Marie said, sharply. “Just tell me what I can do to help get it back! There’s a kid lost in Octopia here!”

“Right, right,” Sheldon’s capped silhouette nodded. “Sorry. So, I need you to take the rip cord here and wait to give it a good yank! There’s a coupla things I gotta keep in place over here while you do that…”

Marie walked over, but saw multiple cords that looked pull-worthy.

“Um…”

“You got the rip cord?”

“No…”

“All right, hold on…”

The sound of Sheldon pouring whatever the generator needed slowed to a halt, and he patiently walked over, instantly finding the correct cord and handing it to her.

“I’ll let you know when to pull. It might take a few tries for it to start, but keep at it.”

Marie nodded, not understanding when she heard a variety of switches being flicked, as well as some clatters.

“All right, you ready?”

She pulled the rip cord. A rumble, but nothing else.

“Okay, try again.”

It took a few more pulls, but the generator eventually roared to life.

“Now, lemme take care of getting you started, and I’ll be out of here…”

Marie didn’t dispute that. She was a lot of things, but she was no computer squid. She waited for the slow booting, the password entry, the appropriate programs written by Sheldon…

It felt like hours, but everything Marie was used to was back up. Sheldon saluted, then went back to working on his weapons.

Right, so she could flip through the cameras again, and find Cull who was… still standing at that checkpoint. Her audio wasn’t working, but she could tell he was just calling out, trying to get a response.

It took a minute for Marie to find the volume and fix it, but she was greeted with a quiet, almost fearful “…hello?...Yes?...Is the Z-Zapfish close…?”

“Yeah, hang on,” Marie said, putting on a practiced smile. “It was just a technical thing, sorry.”

“O-okay…”

“Just keep moving forward, m’kay? That Octoslob might have bombs, but he’s pretty slow, so just keep on your guard, okay?”

Cull gulped, but still started taking steps forward. It was slow and halting, with him looking around as if he was expecting the Octobomber to have flown to where he was.

Marie wasn’t going to spur him too far forward; the camera systems for other areas were still loading, and she didn’t want Cull dying down there, especially if it would be from something super avoidable.

Suddenly, after some tentative advancement, Cull ducked into the ink. Marie switched from the loading screen back to him the moment she heard a splash. He was nearing the Octobomber.

“Remember, kid: those Splat Bombs have timers on ‘em. Keep moving, and don’t let ‘em catch you! That’s a rule of the battlefield!”

Cull wasn’t moving.

“Come on, this is no time for hide and splat! You gotta move forward! Once you get to the Zapfish, you can get out of there!”

“But…” Cull whispered, still not so much as swimming an inch, “I-I don’t know…”

“Look, kid,” Marie sighed. “If you want to find your way home, you need to get past this guy. I already told you; keep moving and you’ll be a harder target for him!”

After a second (presumably waiting for the fat flying octopus to look away, which Marie had to admit would be a decent strategy), Cull emerged and started running, firing wildly as he did so. The Octobomber flinched as ink hit them, and they spun around, quickly lobbing a bomb at the Inkling intruder. Cull kept running forward, barely out of the blast’s range. He kept shooting, somehow missing half his shots as he did so.

It gave the Octobomber enough time to fire another bomb. Marie would have congratulated Cull on his plan of circling to avoid the explosives, but she was too busy gasping as he inattentively moved towards the edge.

“Kid, watch it—”

“Yeah, just keep movin’! Works great!”

He cheered as he splatted the enemy, but the cheer was short lived as he fell off the ledge.

Marie didn’t see his ghost swim up. She waited, desperately scanning every pixel, rotating every camera, but she saw nothing.

She started breathing again when she saw his hands inch onto solid ground, followed by the rest of him.

“Oh, thank Cod,” Marie said, more under her breath than anything. “Right, so….”

The hacks into the next area of security cameras finally loaded. Marie wasn’t sure what the delay was. Something about cache? She’d have to ask Sheldon later, but for now she looked into the next set of cameras, and…

“Hey, good news!” she said. “You’re almost to the Zapfish and outta there!”

“Uh, y-yeah…” Cull said, sounding like Marie did when she first learned how to fake smiles. “Uh, al-almost might be a strong word…”

“What are you talking abou—oh.”

A quick pan of one of the cams showed the problem. A series of dry sponges formed a line from the floor Cull was on to the floating island the Zapfish was on. Even if he used the Balloon Fish lined across the sides to fill them up, this would be a struggle for him to swim up what most Inklings could with just a bit of effort.

“Er… yeah, this might be tough…” Marie trailed off. “I’m sure you can make it up there, though…”

“Nnn…”

She saw him standing there, craning his neck to see the sun-shaped wall far above him. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could tell he wasn’t exactly readying up for the climb. Heck, he was walking back to a ledge (thankfully, a part with a railing this time). He looked around a little, but he didn’t see anywhere else he could try to go.

The blue skies made from blue monitor light surrounded him on all sides, illuminating a sparkling blue sea under him. Looking out on the wooden platform into the distant waters like this was filling him with nostalgia, back when he could only be halfway between squid and kid at most. He remembered having to brush his tentacles off his eyes a lot, to see a cloudless sky like this, with rocky beaches and wooden docks. The false sun was still a good one, adding to the illusion pretty well. Even if the air was still the stale air you’d find in caves, it didn’t matter; the atmosphere was so much like that of a beach, giving a very surreal vibe of familiarity along with the floating platforms, debris, and screens. This was inspiring.

“You okay, kid?”

“Hmm? O-oh, yeah, j-just needed a moment…”

He pulled himself away from the view, having calmed himself a bit. He took a breath, and looked at the challenge before him.

He fired at the first sponge until it was dripping with ink. He took a breath, and climbed up to the top of it. It was easier to just climb up the one, and he still had a dry, shrunken sponge in front of him.

He stepped onto the dry sponge, and was about to fire to inflate it as well, but he realized he’d have to do still more climbing with the other pair up ahead. He wasn’t sure if he’d be up to that; even that one small swim took effort. He still wanted to get the Zapfish in something resembling a timely manner, so he looked either way. It’d be a tricky thing, but he’d done crazier tagging a spot on Moray Towers the one time.

Standing on the tinier platform, he looked at the Balloon Fish on either side, and popped one.

Marie’s jaw dropped. She just saw Cull get flung like a ragdoll as the sponge exploded out to its full size under him. He flailed and hollered, but not as intensely as she thought it warranted. Heck, it almost seemed planned, as he landed flat on his back on top of the next set of filled sponges. He grunted, but he quickly got up and leapt at the final wall between himself and the Zapfish’s platform. A couple of grunts and kicks against the wall, and he could move from dangling by his fingers to actually getting onto the platform.

From there, Marie could view him freeing and petting the Zapfish. He sat down as the platform moved to the exit, the Zapfish on his lap. It was kind of adorable, honestly.

#cull goes to octo canyon #cull to adventure #splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 2 fic #chapter 5 #draft 1 #cull to adventure full chapter

[derangedroyalfae]

Sunday, April 18, 2021 - 10:00pm

{mostly taken from a conversation with my best friend, Jem - there were some bits that I thought were worded well}

Royal (2:26 PM): Sometimes I think about taking antidepressants again if only to numb the pain. And then I remember how it made me too numb and to everything, so then I think about drinking or doing edibles, but then it still sounds awful and could possibly amplify those feelings (as alcohol usually does make me feel more upset). And that’s sometimes why self-harm becomes a substitute, because it ether distracts from those feelings or even makes you feel like your receiving punishment for whatever you’re upset about. But I know self-harm turns into a loop of guilt and shame and worrying about worrying others.

Jem (2:27 PM): I haven't heard the same about edibles that I hear about alcohol

Or marijuana in general I suppose

Royal (2:28 PM): Weed scares me. Like I’m worried I’ll have a reaction because whenever people smoke or cook it around me, I get super sick feeling. I also know Kitty had a bad reaction to edibles, like gave her ultra anxiety and hallucinations or something like that.

Jem (2:29 PM): Ah, gotcha I myself am allergic so I can't say I've tried it myself either

Royal (2:29 PM): I think I might be allergic and I don’t wanna find out the hard way

When people smoke/cook it around me, I get nauseous and a headache

Jem (2:32 PM): Yeah, I used to have two roommates that both smoked weed in our tiny apartment I used to have near constant headache until I moved out the next year

Royal (2:33 PM): I wish I could just remove those negative feelings I have: anger, sadness, jealousy, dysphoria, etc Put them somewhere far away so I wouldn’t have to deal with them, and wouldn’t have to hurt others because of them

(I tend to use dysphoria for myself as an in general term, not just with gender dysphoria, btw)

Jem (2:34 PM): Aah, yeah, I get you

Royal (2:38 PM): But even though I’m scared I’ll have a bad reaction, I’m mighty tempted to ask Hummingbird if I can try one of her edible gummies rn...

Jem (2:41 PM): I wonder if there's a way to try it in a safe/monitored way

Royal (2:41 PM): Well, if I do just one gummy

With their supervision

So if I have a bad reaction, they can watch over me or drive me to the urgent care

I love how it’s called urgent care but usually has like an hour or longer wait

Jem (2:43 PM): Ah yeah, that'd be the best way to do it Keep the phone handy too

Royal (2:45 PM): Hey, at the very least, doesn’t look like it has any interactions with my cholesterol medication

Jem (2:46 PM): That's good to know

Royal (2:50 PM): I don’t think I’ll actually follow through with it or anything, just my mind thinking of solutions

I’m feeling calmer now anyway

For now

{And then proceeded to draw this (it’s an idea I’ve had this idea for a long time now, especially since the first time I experienced extreme jealousy with Capy, but never had the courage to follow through since I’ve never done inking and rarely traditional colour, but I finally worked up the motivation to try, and honestly, it’s perfect timing as it was therapeutic to draw)}:

Royal (8:09 PM): Random question, I’m curious your thoughts on this: do you think it’s insensitive to joke about getting with other people when you’re in a relationship, especially/at least in front of your partner (at least if the two of you haven’t established a non-monogamous relationship), and even more so if you know your partner is dealing with jealousy issues?

Jem (8:12 PM): I’d think so, yeah

It's definitely odd

Unless it's like, I donno, a celebrity or something

But even then, it'd make me wonder why someone would say that if they knew already their partner was having issues

Royal (8:12 PM): Like someone they know/knew or met in the past, but 100% out of the picture now

So it’s def not a celeb

Jem (8:14 PM): Yeah then even without the jealousy issues, unless that's some sort of pre-established shared humor, it's kinda weird

Royal (8:15 PM): K, I was curious what you’d think

I agree with that too, it just feels really insensitive, at least if you’re monogamous

{Whilst I never told Jem what it was about, it has to do with something similar that had happened earlier today - though I am not technically in a monogamous relationship, so the above can’t fully apply to me. But to explain this better, I’ll have to jump back to something that happened in December 2020.

Capybara had told me about how there was this really attractive lecturer he met in the past whom if I remember correctly, spoke Greek, so his friend got him a Greek dictionary to help him try to impress her, but he never really ran into her again. I had made a comment that you know, guess it worked out for the better because then we would have never become a thing should he have actually succeeded in getting with her. And he made a joke that wasn’t the case or a joke that brushed off what I said as almost nothing. I knew he was joking, but it was kinda a really emotional time for everyone and I’m still even to this day working through my newfound romantic/sexual jealousy issues, so I took it kinda harsh at first and then eventually told him that same night how that kinda made me feel shitty.

Well, today, we were gaming with one of his friends (super great, hardworking, and nice lad) that we often play Sea of Thieves with and it turns out that was the same friend who got him the Greek dictionary, so it somehow got brought up in conversation…and just…they were joking that Capybara was Odysseus and this other woman was Odysseus’s wife and they’d find each other again one day. I can’t remember which character they assigned the friend but they were saying I could be one of the gods, and I’ll be honest, didn’t handle that situation the best, so I made a off hand comment of something like, “Guess I can be Athena or Aphrodite since they’re the jealous types, guess that works pretty well.” Don’t know if they picked up the hint. I don’t know if they were at all thinking about how this was something awkward for me, cuz I’m pretty sure the friend is aware that I’m dating Capy and is supposed to assume we’re monogamous as Capybara doesn’t really feel comfortable letting his friends or family know I have other partners. It just also happened to be a sore topic for me, cuz when Capy made that joke, even though I knew it was nothing more than a joke, it made me feel like nothing and replaceable, which I already see myself as.

Just to kinda let Capybara know that I’d prefer the topic to be dropped, I messaged him privately: “So I just remembered, it was you talking about that Greek dictionary thing to impress that girl and making a joke that like, meeting me wasn’t for the better cuz she’s still out there that kinda made me feel like shit even though it was a joke”

To which he responded with: “she's a lecturer my dude 😂 she's like in her 40's - don't worry”

And I replied with: “No I know, but it was more of the joke that followed that rubbed me wrong. At the time”

And he just sent these two emoji’s in response: 😧 😕

Immediately after our messages, as we had still been playing, he went dead silent and so I noticed this (not sure if the friend did at first) and I at first just tried to silently apologize in DM, cuz I hadn’t meant to upset him, but he still remained silent. So shortly after, I asked if we should call it quits even though it was early. I felt so guilty and I immediately sent him more apology messages and even an apology voice memo, but I assumed he turned his phone off by that point.

Once again, my jealousy got the best of me and I hurt the person I love most in the world and made a fun time involving friends go awkward. I was having a good early afternoon/late morning with him at first, and then I ruined it because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and my jealousy under control. I’m such an asshole.}

Royal (8:22 PM): Off topic, but still on the issue of jealousy, I feel like when I have jealousy issues myself at the point I’m at, it’s like a double headed snake due to me being in a polyamorous relationship - one head are just the pre-established toxic/venomous things that come with jealousy and the other head is the guilt and shame of feeling I have no right to be jealous when I have two other partners myself thus making me feel hypocritical (and being ignorant of any potential jealousy from other partners)

It feels like those two snake heads could eat me alive with just a few bites each if I let them in

It’s such a viscous cycle and honestly, the basic head of jealousy is enough of a problem that turns my stomach, but the second head just makes me want to surrender to the earth

Jem (8:28 PM): I get you It's a lot

Emotions are hard

Royal (8:28 PM): Especially when they revolve around something or someone you already have such an emotional attachment with

And then those feelings, like feelings of jealousy, only end up making you hurt the ones you love

Making them feel guilty or annoyed or like you don’t trust them or something

Jem (8:31 PM): Tbh, as someone who generally struggles with a lot of jealousy type issues, I get that (not necessarily romantic jealousy even, but just there's undercurrents of it that are always there and present in every relationship)

I don't think it's something that can ever be fully dealt with and just I guess has to be accepted and worked around At least for me

Royal (8:33 PM): And it makes you wonder if you truly care for those if you’re so easily jealous of them, since they tell you that shouldn’t feel that way if you really love someone, that you should be able to love them blindly and trust them, and it’s not like I don’t trust, but I feel so easily discardable by those who I could never even fathom of turning my back on

Royal (8:34 PM): Honestly, I’ve even felt some jealousy toward you in the past - not romantically - but it was something I worked on

Jem (8:34 PM): What if I were to say same though haha

Royal (8:34 PM): You seemed to be doing so well with you VN and you picked up art so fast

Jem (8:35): Aah for me it's always revolving around

My need for attention tbh

Royal (8:35 PM): But I told myself, “you just need to keep trying. Feeling negatively toward someone success is selfish and gets you nowhere. Improve yourself and you can also feel that success. He’s not succeeding to hurt you in anyway - you should be happy for him.”

Or like, probably not those exact words, but ya know, that idea

Royal (8:36 PM): Yeah, I understand that too, especially growing up in a family of 6

That kinda happened the other day with Kitty (whom at this point my feelings are pretty platonic) - for over a week now I’ve been telling the girls about a game (For the King) I’ve been interested in playing with them, and the other day, Hummingbird went on a social distancing date with Crystal, so I asked Kitty if she’d like to play with me since it’d be just the two of us and she agreed. However, she had a headache, so we thought it’d be best if she napped first and if she felt better later on then we could play. When she woke up, Lapis hit her up for some gaming and Kitty decided to game with her instead and forgot she agreed to game with me...

Jem (8:41 PM): Ah, that kinda thing really sticks with me

Royal (8:41 PM): And so I’m just getting to a point where I feel like I should just stop asking them if they wanna game with me, because it’s not the first time something like this has happened (at least they don’t follow through, not a matter of them deciding to do something with someone else)

Like, I made the Murder Beans server so Capybara and Kitty (and Hummingbird if she ever decided to get Among Us) could game with my friends in the CSR Creations server, and that was back in fall...the girls never joined a game even when showing express interest and saying they would

Kitty also once went and bought Lapis like the whole Halo Master Chief Collection for Lapis cuz she was broke and wanted it, and the proceeded to play it with her and Hummingbird...and like...I also would have liked to have played Halo with them if given the opportunity, but I was never asked

Sheezus, don’t even get me started in my family and how invisible they made me feel

But yeah, I’m at a point with the girls that I don’t think it’s even worth bothering to ask anymore, at least about gaming

Hummingbird’s confusion and migraines are also coming back, so she has a legit medical excuse and I can’t really bother her about it

Jem (8:48 PM): I get you, yeah

All of those things would really bother me too They have in the past

I remember when I first joined UCSD, I started hanging out often with the girls that lived around me in the dorms And we all started watching Orphan Black together

And then I literally had no idea when they finished the show because after the first couple sessions they forgot to invite me

Royal (8:51 PM): Oof, yeah, that’d bother me too, or at least tell me how they felt about me in my mind

I don’t think with my jealousy, it’s a matter of not trusting my partner or friends or whomever, it’s just a matter of feeling such low self-worth that I feel easy to discard, and when I get brushed to the side or have someone joking along the lines as how dating me wasn’t for the better when someone else is out there, it furthers those feelings I have about myself, those feelings of self-worth and how I’m replaceable or not worth shit

Jem (8:54 PM): I get you I know mine stems from feeling forgettable

Royal (8:54 PM): I know I’m an annoying person, I know I can be a lot and emotionally draining, I know I can be hypersensitive - so I know it feels like it’d be better to be rid of that sort of force if you can find someone better who doesn’t make you feel the way I’d do

(In response to feeling forgettable) Yeah

If you remove the fun hair, piercings, and tattoo, I’m actually quite a boring person

And I’m quite isolated. If you don’t include my partners, there’s only really two people who come to mind that I’d consider close friends that I can talk to: you and someone else (you’ve never met her)

I’m getting to a point where I have a hard time talking to the girls due to the guilt I feel about me more or less wanting to be platonic with them, and then Hummingbird is constantly having a medical crisis and I’d feel bad burdening her further

So really, I’m isolated down to two people, primarily you, + Capybara, and yeah, that’s my own fault

I feel easily exhausted by my other options at this point, where I feel like I can only take Candy in small doses (which feels really hypocritical of me) and my other VA friends or gaming friends, I don’t know if I’m close enough to have those kinds of conversations with, especially the VA friends since I tend to be their boss

For the most part, the other people I’d sometimes talk about these issues with are on servers that are primarily dead, so it feels awkward to hop back in only to bitch about my life

Besides, I hate seeming like I’m only spewing forth toxicity and negative emotions over and over again

Which I worry I do too much with you as is

#mood journal #mood #depression #jealousy #envy #guilt #shame #polyamory #nonmonogamy #non monogamy #monogamy #love

[dysfunctionalbatfam]

Do you have any advice/tips/tricks for new artists?

I’m definitely not the most qualified for this but I’ll try my best!! 😅

I kind of started out sort of using other artists’ art as references (just personal studies that I threw away right after) - that’s how I actually got into drawing. I did it for fun and when I finished I thought, “Huh. Neat” (even though it was terrible) and then I just tried a few more. Unlike working from real references, some artists may choose to have a style that’s more simplified and easier to understand. (Do keep in mind that you should never just trace it and repost online.)

Another thing I took from were speedpaints and tutorials - and they don’t really all help me, but they at least give me some motivation, even if they make it look overwhelmingly easy. They help break down the steps and give you a process so that you don’t only see the masterful finished product and that the beginnings can be rough. There has been, however, two (2) that really did help a lot. (Probably will drop the talented users in the tags 💞💞)

And honestly? Most of it has been just, making up shit, and that’s okay! Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, it’s not going to hurt your art progress, and often times you learn from them. Explore things, different styles, programs, tools, until you find some you’re comfortable with. And don’t worry if you’re unsure, this process takes a ton of time, so just keep exploring. Sometimes you just gotta say “This looks bad to me, but it helped me learn this and that.”

Another good thing to do is find a group of friends willing to support you! You could share your shitposts to more serious drawings and get their feedback. Bounce off ideas off each other, find other artists. People encouraging you to push on can do more than you’d think.

This is said. A lot. You hear it everywhere, but it’s commonly said for a reason, y’know? Practice. Practicing is so much of the gig. No one’s going to automatically be amazing at art, which also means that if your art isn’t what you want it to be right now? Doesn’t mean it’s never gonna get there. Try your best to draw everyday! Don’t worry if it varies, do whatever the fuck you want, this is for you. A two second scribble one day and a portrait study the next? Heck yeah.

Last general advice, methinks, is to use references. I’m a huge hypocrite for this because I just. Randomly put stuff down. But don’t ever be afraid to use them. They’re a resource all artists have used.

Onto more technical stuff -

Digital Art Programs (that I’ve tested and would recommend)

-Firealpaca (computer) and Medibang (computer & tablet): Always my recommendations. They’re absolutely free and easy to install, yet they offer such a reliable program. They’re basically the same, to be honest

-Krita (computer): I don’t really know how to use this but it’s free and capable of producing gorgeous pieces of art.

-Photoshop (computer & tablet): I started with this, it’s pretty good, but my personal issues made it just keep crashing, so I’m not very versed in it 😅 but it lives up to its hype.

-Procreate (tablet): Good for painting, but lineart is a little harder, in my opinion. The brush stabilization is wack. But it’s very comfortable and whelming to use, worth the ten bucks. You can also download a fuck ton of free brushes online, always a plus (I SWEAR I get twenty more every day)

-Autodesk Sketchbook (tablet & computer [?]): The interface is very similar to Procreate, so if you want a subsititute for Procreate, go ahead! In my opinion, it’s a little harder to use, though.

-Paint Tool Sai (computer) and Clip Studio Paint (both): Never tried, but probably really good, I know a lot of people who use them.

[Do keep in mind that starting out with free programs is enough, and many extremely good artists stick with them!]

Traditional art stuff -

-Same stuff applies, you don’t need advanced supplies to create good art!

-Hoard sketchbooks like a dragon, eat hot chip, and cry

-A lot of professional artists prefer sketching/inking traditionally and then digitally coloring it

-My favorite traditional supplies are charcoal pencils, if that’s anything? 😂 I find them more comfortable to use than pencils.

-You can tell I can’t do traditional to save my life, I’m SO sorry if you do traditional dhdkhd

-Brushes can be bought cheap!! They’ll still work just as well (many supplies that come cheaper are still good, I got a whole set with paint, a sketchbook, etc. for under twenty USD)

-Some advice I took from a youtube video somewhere: Have two notebooks, one for more serious artwork and one just to do anything in, as we know we all have failures and get nervous to fuck up. This ensures that you unleash your creativity! In that notebook, don’t worry about making your drawings look good, just put your ideas down.

This is getting to the point that I’m just rambling, so I’ll end it here. Hope it helps, even though I should follow my own advice- ❤️❤️❤️ good luck, you GOT this, anon!

#absolute-0zero was the first person who i had used references from for fun #very neat and simple linework #tutorials i liked: nac-nic /speedpaints i liked: kurawastaken #not dc #art tips #art refs #i guess #i am NOT qualified #very honored 🥺💞 but why me i can’t draw hskdhkdhkd #asks #long post #sorry #didn't cover anatomy and shit because nac-nic will do it way better #i can't anatomy myself rp #their art is 100 you won't regre it

[superviza]

For all the characters I’ve never liked, Master Fu is the only one I’ve ever done a PowerPoint for. Maybe that secretly means I love him.

I created this series just to organize my thoughts regarding Master Fu’s character. Exploring this character was my of asking questions that allow me to enjoy the show more. Just trying to solve a mystery and learn more about a show I like. In that quest these questions arose. 

Doing this has made me wonder, do I hate Master Fu? The answer I come back to is no. But Supervisa, people don’t create write whole PowerPoints roasting someone that they like. Debatable. I often judge characters based on a few questions, one of which being, “Can I have lunch with this person?”

The results vary....

No I’d rather not have lunch with Sakura or Leenalee Lee. (For some people, thems fight’n words.) But I also adore Azula and by no means would I have lunch with her. The only way they’d let me in the room is if I were serving lunch. In other words, this calls into question the character’s morals. I personally am a sucker for virtuous persons, or in some cases someone who tries to be, the antihero types. A person with outstanding morals and ethics is the type of person I want to talk to, get to know and above all emulate. That guy I’ll buy lunch for. Now that creates a contradiction. Sakura Haruno is one of the good guys right. Its not like she supports murder or human rights violations. No, but I never saw her as friendly person, between telling Sasuke Naruto was a bad person because he had no parents, to lying to Naruto so she could kill Sasuke with the very limited power she had (at the time, no lie I dig Sakura Uchiha a tad) I’ve just never seen her as someone I wanted to be like. Bringing up Sakura can usually start fights but the bottom line is, if I’m thinking about a character with traits I’d like to possess, I’d shoot for maybe Izuku Midoriya. Specifically his love for people which I could use more of. So do you want to be like Azula? That brings me to the next question.

“Did they do their job?”

That’s the question that separates my Sakuras and Azulas. Azula played the bad guy with finesse. She was tactical, decisive and ruthless and did the job of every and any character in any literary work, she supported the plot. Why am I so passionate about this? I love storytelling. The job of every character, anything mentioned in a story; is to support the plot. Nothing in a book, movie, graphic novel or TV Show, should occur due to happenstance. That’s not how real life works. No one exist for no reason, everyone has purpose and everything that happens to (wo)man is of no coincidence. (If you choose to give it meaning.) Therefore a body of work should reflect that otherwise its a waste of ink on paper, a waste of a polygon in a 3D mesh. A writer should be able to justify every stroke.

I think everyone agrees that Zuko had some of the greatest development the art narration had to offer. However, how often do we talk about the parallel of his growth to his sister’s decent. Azula was who Zuko was trying to become, confident, feared and above all, respected. Imagine if Azula didn’t posses those traits, book 2 would’ve ended differently. Zuko’s growth would’ve been motivated in some other way. In addition to that, she was the adversary that was most difficult to defeat after her father. This is not just because of strength, she was cold, ruthless and calculated, driving the Avatar’s objective. And imagine, once she has everything she wanted, and what Zuko thought he wanted, she came to the same conclusion her younger brother had arrived at. Everything we were taught, the callousness, the rigger and patriotism, it amounts to nothing. Her own mother was afraid of her. No amount of honor she gained could restore that relationship. Thus, I believe this supports my prior statement, Azula is a great character, not due to morality, but because of how she supports the plot and character growth in the series.

Does the character have multiple dimensions?

Everyone loves a multifaceted character, but do we know how to create one? This is another concept the resembles our reality. Humans, animals, creation in general is just a network of stories. (Get’n philosophic) Why else would we create characters ranging from human to bacteria source: Ozzy and Drix. But how do we make that character seem real? We’ve heard “one dimensional” used to describe characters in a negative way but why. This usually means the character needs more traits or lacks realism. It’s the difference between the relationship with your child and the relationship with your co-worker. A good parent is more likely to know what their child is thinking before the child acts. (You know, your mother just comes in with something you wanted but haven’t asked for yet.) A co-worker on the hand, even if you’er friends, the relationship will have to see a lot of upgrades before you have the same level of trust you would with a parent, generally speaking, but by then you maybe married by then. In a literary sense, a character with one dimension is essentially a stranger or acquaintance to you. How do we turn that character into our baby?

We get to know them like a real person. What was their childhood like? What event changed their life? What kind of things frighten them? What’s their hobby? If they could vacation anywhere for free, where would they go? The beach? The mountains? Some place urban? Take Izuku for example, he keeps notes on any and every hero? That’s a dead giveaway that he’s a relatively organized person, even more impressive for a 15 year old boy. It also gives the impression that he has a lot of self discipline. He did pick up a work out regiment from a world renowned hero and completed it in ten months, after he overworked himself. He also found ways to work out in during class. It makes you ask how he developed that self discipline. Even his room, covered in action figures and memorabilia, is organized and the rest of the decor matches. Not something very prevalent in men let alone teenage boys. His mother doesn’t seem particularly strict, but Izuku has proven himself to be very thoughtful. Keeping a tight ship may be the result of an attempt to make things easier for his mother. Theory, but that’s fun part in my opinion. It’s like that satisfying feeling that comes with scratching off a seal with a coin. Even if the conclusion you draw isn’t cannon, every time you ask questions about the character or world, it’s like you read/watched the squeal. And if the theory is proven in the show, film or book, it becomes that much more fun. A one dimensional character isn’t destined to be awful however, it just means we need more time to get to know them. 

So where does Master Fu fit in this complex scale of character appeal I’ve been painting? Can I have lunch with him? Sure. Do I want to emulate him? Absolutely not. Is he invited to the cook out? Depends on who all over there. Did he do his job? This is the moment of truth. Before I characterized this question from a literary stand point. That, I can’t speak to with an ongoing series.(I’m not holding my breathe though) Thus far, the character of Master Fu has supported the plot, giving viewers plenty of information about the world and lore. Does Master Fu perform the tasks he’s given in the duration he’s on “stage.” No, he failed miserably. Is he multifaceted? I’d say so, in fact, that may be the vary issue I’ve subscribed to. He has 186 years of backstory that I enjoyed probing. Even if the question I raise take me down the wrong rabbit hole, it’s like I got to explore the show from a new angle.I refrain from details because they’re in the slides.

So I say all this because I realize I may very well be alone on my Disaster Fu island. So if any viewer is wondering how I arrived at this conclusion, I hope this clarifies that. I can’t hate Master Fu if I wanted to. I have a healthy anger toward him, like the anger one has when their significant other leaves dishes in the sink. (Except your boy/girlfriend probably didn’t destroy a temple.) I think he would be a great cashier, but not a guardian. Master Fu could work at a mall kiosk, but miraculous guardian is not for him. It do be like that sometimes. Art, I am good at, but don’t ask me to play an instrument. I wasn’t planning writing on an essay but I felt an explanation was in order.

I don’t hate Master Fu

I don’t believe Master Fu was a good or even ok guardian

I decide how much I like a character according to their moral makeup or even attempt at morality

I decide how much I like a character according to their role in the plot and how suited they are to the role

I decide how much I like a character according to their different facets.

With that criteria in mind I made this series to organize my thoughts

This is just my way to explore an aspect of The Miraculous Adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir

That being said I hope you like the series as much I enjoyed making it. Maybe You agree with it or you don’t regardless, I shared it hoping it would make you laugh. I hope it makes you ask questions not just about Miraculous Ladybug but about your work and whatever you fan for. I hope those questions allow you to experience the story again in a new way that’s enjoyable. There will be more soon!

@solembum22  @starcrossedrose @firstdove15

#miraculousladybug #the miraculous adventures of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #marienette #adrian agreste #rena rouge #alya #alya cesaire #nino #nino lahiffe #carapace #100 miraculous reasons why master fu is a disaster #100 miraculous reasons why #miraculous reasons why #master fu #master fu is a disaster