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champagnefountains · 2 months

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I have a request if they're still open.

Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.

ALASTOR - H.H.

Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.

Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!

Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.

You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.

"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.

Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!

All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.

Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.

You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed.

Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it.

So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things – in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course.

"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.

"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.

"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."

Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.

“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–”

“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!”

Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly.

Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings.

And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself.

After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

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block-swing-perry · 8 months

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trying out a new combo of techniques and brushes and im quite pleased with the progress so far.

realized that the halftone brush i like works so much better at subtlety in combo with this other blending brush. also still working around the whole thing i have with perfection if the brush is too perfect, and found another good combo of brushes that have enough texture to prevent me from that. still heavily leaning on sketchy looking works where i color directly on the sketch even though i wanna learn how to do "cleaner" pieces of fanart because now i have money to get my art printed on shirts and stuff and it looks better like that to me.

also! actually using the lasso and gradient tools a lot more and a lot more effectively so i can be speed :)

and im very much going through a phase where i like the color red too much. sorry not sorry

#perry art #wip #fanart #generator rex

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wc-confessions · 7 days

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I think it's still fucked up that Alderheart was forced into being a Med. Cat because he needed more time and training than most apprentices.

I know that's not the whole story, but damn does this whole situation make me mad. When Bramblestar breaks the news to him that he MUST be a Medicine Cat, he literally says "Oh yeah it's the will of God, kiddo!!!!!" and then refuses to elaborate while he expects him to just. Not get upset by that?

And then when he does realistically get upset, Molewhisker, the person who should be advocating for him, reaffirms that yeah actually you really suck Alderpaw!! You are worthless because you can't hunt or fight despite only being in training for a month now!!! Now shut up and get into the Medicine Den you worthless fuck

And Leafpool and Jayfeather? Oh yeah they don't care that this child is being forced into this job because his dad is going on a powertrip. Oh yeah we definitely got a vision from God and it was definitely about you, despite the fact that there are so many cats with white tail tips that it could be about literally anyone else in the world.

And this is presented as a good thing, apparently. Ignoring the fact that he gets a prophecy/quest later on, I don't think it's good to tell anyone that oh yeah you need to change professions because you're taking too long to learn. Yeah you really suck at your job right now, so I am going to force you into a new job you don't want and there's nothing you can do about it because I said so. Improvement? Working hard and learning? What's that? Yeah I can't hear you, it's the will of God, sorry buddy :(((

Like. It just makes me so mad to think that Alderpaw was essentially punished for needing more help than most cats. Like come on, would it really be so hard to monitor his progress a little more and give him more time without judging or scolding him? And would it be so difficult to not shame him every time he misses an "easy" catch, or scream at him whenever he gets lost in a daydream, or fuck up his self-esteem by not even offering him praise when he succeeds?

And why didn't anyone stick up for him at all, considering that Bramblestar & Co. confronted him publicly with this? Squirrelflight? Lionblaze? Sparkpaw? Jayfeather, who was also forced to be a Med. Cat? Why didn't anyone push back against this? The whole prophecy/vision is sketchy as hell considering that the only hint they got was a white tail tipped cat. Somebody should've questioned this more.

Oh dang this is getting long. Umm. So. That's the end, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk guys!! And thank you to Alderheart for simply existing in this world, love you dude :)

ㅤ

#confession #alderheart

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zzzzzestforlife · 27 days

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🍋 in which i continue to have a child's design sense and lots of fun

⏪ previously on project diaries ⏪

in this project diary 🔍: side quests ✅, abusing my local storage 💾, language accessibility struggles 🥲, mobile-friendly designs📱

progress demo: it's so basic and cute, like a stupid baby that doesn't know anything, i love her 😍

🤩 unplanned features that were more trouble than they're probably worth but i love them:

🌏 multi-language heading

🌏 multi-language input text field

originally, i was thinking of figuring out how to read and write to a local database or CSV to keep track of the to-do list but i actually just want to keep track of at most ten things a day approximately, so why not use local storage? and boom, here we are! so much easier and relaxing as this project was meant to be ☺️

*five seconds later, i decided to make it hard again*

at first, it was just different fonts for different languages on more-or-less static elements like the heading, but i like writing my to-dos in different languages sometimes, so there i was, continuing to suffer in the name of dynamically creating and rendering HTML elements, but this is the hill i choose to die on apparently 🤷‍♀️ (worth it 😌)

reconsidering my choices📱

i understand now why websites have gotten more boring than they used to be. we can look at them on our tiny phones now 😞 i tried to play around with the layout since i can't keep my original design... but... i don't like any of my new options that much... i'm gonna bury this project and go into mourning now ⚰️

also screw figma, drawing rough ideas with my thumbs is way more fun precisely because it's so sketchy. get it? sketchy? okay, i'll see myself out 👋🙋‍♀️

💌: usually, chaos really stresses me out. whether it's school or work, i like things organized and predictable. but with this project, i didn't mind because it's just for me 🥰 code is always going to be messy and this project has helped me keep this mindset even at my 9-5. so even if i can't realize my original vision, this has already helped me so much to bring my best self to my work as an engineer again 😇

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saltygilmores · 4 months

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THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP6: TAKE THE DEVILED EGGS (Pt 2) (This One's Gonna Be a Real Rage Inducer) (Lots Of Interesting Development Though) (So many things happening) (Salty Rambles about Jess Mariano's Birthday)

There is something to be said about Luke (on multiple occasions) readily admitting he pays Jess in ketchup packets to toil in the Coffee Mines more or less against his will. I get that it's just a part time job after school...before school..while he's cutting school..always working...never stopping...never reicieving any tips from Lorelai and Rory... Rory needs a job... Rory and Lorelai need to pay for their food... Anyway these comments shed a light on the shaky economies of small businesses in small towns which is interesting to me. Gilmore Girls is really, at it's core, a show about class. One day he could wake up to find his diner has been turned into a Dunkin Donuts (this is Not-Quite-But-Almost-New England after all, where DD is king).

Hahahahaha!! Jess stole money to buy a car and he committs attempted murder! Hahahahaaha! You're SO FUNNY LORELAI GILMORE. Your daughter stole a boat.

Yeah. And maybe back home, he did had to steal to survive sometimes. How about them apples, Lorelai Gilmore. God, do I loathe her.

Don't say that around Lorelai, I think she'd believe you were being serious.

A couple of the moots and I recently decided that in the recent past, Liz managed to land and then lose a halfway decent boyfriend/ father figure to Jess who had a car and taught Jess to drive and do repairs and some other light adulting. I honestly feel like this is the only thing that makes sense.

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS SCENE!!! Fuck meeee. Look at that li'l curl...

LOOK AT IT!!!! You know what, I'm calling it. I'm putting my foot down. This is the hottest Milo had ever looked in the entirety of seasons 2 and 3. It's that perfectly gelled hair, the jean jacket, the cool tshirt. Very James Dean. Woof. Let's see, what would I choose for second place? I have to go with the party scene in KegMax, another episode with impeccably jelled hair and a jean jacket (and even while he was apparently sick shooting that episode too). He just progresses in hotness the further season 3 marches on.

These four words "I'm still a minor" are a point of contention for me in the ongoing debate about his birth month. My beliefs: Jess is a Virgo. He was born in August or early September. This would make him just older than Rory by just a smidge. Since well over a year has passed in the show since the episode he arrived in Stars Hollow as a 17 year old (when he arrived, it was early September as Rory had just started school in that episode), he had just celebrated his birthday before arriving and so he has to have already turned 18 by this episode. However, I will consider the theory that Luke was clueless or misinformed about his age at the time he arrived (because it's not like LIz is in any way reliable with information) and he was actually 16 going on 17 when he hopped off the bus last year, and maybe he has an October or November birthday making him slightly younger than Rory. It would make sense that both missed the kindergarten cut off dates in 1989 at their respective schools (which is rock solid canon already for Rory, as she was born in October 84 but graduated in 03 instead of 02), putting them in the same grade.

Salty has put a pathetic amount of thought into this. So, how can I accept this statemen? I attribute it to the same brand of biting sarcasm that gave us "I mugged an old lady" moments ago and also because this scene doesn't make a whole lot of sense to begin with. He's still a minor, but he got his own insurance all by himself under his own name, which is not really a thing, but not his own car registration? Committing insurance fraud perhaps? Sketchy insurance company that didn't ask too many questions? He knows a guy who knows a guy who can print up some fake documents? At that point why not go all the way with the white collar crimes and forge Luke's signature on the registration too? See, Lorelai thinks Jess is a thief and murderer when he's really a white collar criminal like Taylor Doose.

My memory was certain that he produced a cigarrette and not a pen in this scene. I had to edit this post to remove a line about him smoking. I guess I confused it with the Then She Appears/ Cmurrh kissing scene, where he's also wearing a jean jacket with a popped collar. Damn. I can't wait for that scene...

Just some light fraud. If the car belonged to someone in Stars Hollow, whoever's registration he stole probably deserved it anyway. This is how I approach all "Crimes" Jess commits in Stars Hollow. There are only a few people who don't deserve it. Your honor, my client is innocent.

Oh no, the couch of doom. No good conversations ever happens between Rory and Lorelai on the couch, especially after one of them comes home at night and finds the other one on the couch. The Gilmores recieve an invitation to Sherry's baby shower. The moots and I have determined that Doula and Gigi will eventually band together to form the most powerful duo of neglected half sisters the world has ever seen. For the record, today Doula would be 17 and Gigi would be 21. Since Jess eventually comes to adopt and raises Doula she has a somewhat decent chance of coming out a well adjusted adult. At the very least, if she was stuck with TJ and Liz, Jess would still be a positive influence on her life, visit her and look out for her and make sure she didn't get sucked into any cults. The odds are a lot more grim for Gigi with Crusty and Sherry as her forever "parents" and let's face it, very likely her relationship with big sister Rory or any of the other Gilmores is non existent.

And things were so peaceful. Especially since Dean hasn't reared his ugly head in the last two episodes, either.

You flip flop with Crusty so much how can anyone possibly keep track of whether you're on the outs with him or banging him at any given time?

And by saying that out loud you're gonna tip the balance of the universe and he's going to show up. I looked ahead and although this is sadly still a Crusty-Focused episode, he doesn't actually make an appearance. Small blessings. To Lorelai's surprise, Rory admits that she's been in contact with Crusty and Lorelai is okay with it but upset that Rory was hiding it from her. God, he's such a parasite.

Emails. How quaint.

Highly debatable.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #TDDE #Take the Deviled Eggs #Rory Gilmore #Lorelai Gilmore #Jess Mariano #Luke Danes #Milo Ventimiglia

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space-mermaid-writing · 4 months

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Wednesday [IronStrange]

Summary:Tony fights Strange and his weird wizards on a regular basis. So when he is woken up by Jarvis and being told Strange is sitting in his kitchen, waiting to talk to him, Tony just knows that something is not right. What he does not know yet is that it will be a string of very long days.

Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Tags:enemies to lovers, time loop, time shenanigans, hero/villain, hero Tony Stark, villain Stephen Strange, morally gray Stephen Strange, being a villain is a point of view, protecting the timeline, suicide but it has no consequences whatsoever, open ending, hopeful ending, Stephen needs a hug, Stephen and the never ending day, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, all the stuff you love

Chapter 2: "It's Wednesday. Again!"

Tony woke up by the voice of Jarvis. “Sir, Doctor Strange has appeared in your kitchen.”

Tony opened his eyes wide. “What?”

“He is sitting at the table and said he won’t leave until you talk to him. He said it’s urg-…”

Before Jarvis had time to finish, Tony had already jumped out of bed and hurried off.

Tony stopped in the open doorway.

Strange was indeed sitting at the table, his hands resting on the top of the table. wearing his blue robes and that weird red cloak. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but with some unwilling hope in them.

“Hello Stark,” the sorcerer greeted him neutrally. Only then did he realize that Tony wasn’t wearing any gauntlet. Whenever he came to talk to Stark in the morning there had been some kind of weapon pointed at him. Still, he tried not to show too much euphoria. There could be some other explanation.

Tony stared at him. “Jarvis, what day is it?”

“It’s Wednesday the 5th, Sir. Shall I call backup?”

The engineer grinned, ignoring the question. “It’s Wednesday, again.”

Strange stood up so fast, his chair fell down backwards. “You remember?”

“I do.”

The sorcerer looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and awe. “It worked?” he checked anyway.

“It worked.”

They shared a long look. Longer than was likely appropriate for a hero and a villain standing in front of each other – unless they had some form of deeply suppressed feelings for each other. Which the two of them definitely did not.

That was the moment Jarvis chimed in. “Sir?”

Tony remembered that his A.I. didn’t know what happened and realized his behavior must be highly confusing. “Breakthrough in a time loop problem. We don’t threaten the wizard for the day, unless he does something sketchy and not authorized. Clear the day, we’ve got work to do. But coffee first.” He walked to the coffee machine, but stopped halfway and turned back to Strange. “And tea for you. I’ve got some iiiin…” he thought about it enthusiastically for a moment, then pointed to one of the kitchen cupboards, “… there.”

He opened it and the same box of chai was in the back. Not yet opened.

His good mood was contagious and both men moved highly motivated into the lab as soon as their beverages were ready.

This was indeed a big breakthrough for Stephen. It was the first time in two years someone remembered a conversation they had on the previous day. Not having to explain himself meant a great deal.

He knew working with Stark had been the right decision.

On the downside, Jarvis still got reset and their notes from the day before were lost. But thanks to the fact Tony made him memorize the important parts and to Stark’s own mind, they were much faster in getting to the point where they had stopped the previous loop, so that there was actually some progress instead of just replicating everything over and over again.

Tony looked up from the Starkpad he was scribbling on to Stephen. “We should do some more tests. For once I’ll actually remember the results and have more data to work with. We should also run the same tests on me to see if something changed since I joined you.”

"That would have been more effective if we had some before-and-after comparisons," Stephen said.

“Jarvis is constantly monitoring my vital signs, so he’ll be able to provide the control data.”

The doctor tilted his head, hearing this, and tried to phrase his next words carefully. “That kind of data controlling can be seen as rather invasive.”

Tony understood his concerns. The frequency of data breaches was becoming a growing problem in society. But Strange didn’t know Jarvis like he did. Where Tony was, there was Jarvis.

“He has reason to. My powerhouse of the cells hasn’t always been this clean.” He tapped on his shirt where the lights of the arc reactor glow gently under the fabric. It was probably the understatement of the decade, but he didn't want to open the bottle that was the story of his palladium poisoning.

It was also the story of another seemingly unsolvable problem he had solved in the end. With the simple solution of inventing a new element. Easy peasy. Time travel couldn’t be harder, could it?

Tony was glad the sorcerer let the topic slide anyway, and they started to do various scans and blood tests on both Strange and Tony.

There wasn’t much of a change in Tony’s results. Stephen still pointed out that his magnesium levels were low and calcium high – like the doctor he was.

Tony had run several in-depth background checks on him the first time he had encountered him. His doctor title and his PhD was a medical one.

While Jarvis was processing more data, Tony pulled up a list he had written in the last hour. “I’ve got some more ideas we should try out: first, I’ll monitor you at midnight when the reset is happening. Then we should alternate between time zones to see if midnight PST is a fixed point of time or if it varies.”

Those were good points and showed how thoughtful of a scientist Tony actually was behind his PR persona and Iron Man mantle.

“Can we pull Jarvis into the loop?”

Strange shook his head. “While it would be interesting to test if he has a soul the spell could latch on, it only works on organic humanoids. Besides that, there should only be one link at a time or it can become harmful for the ones involved.”

Tony made a sound of understanding and put that point at the bottom of his list. For now they had enough other options.

“Speaking of,” Stephen continued, “we should renew the spell. If you are still interested.”

“Yes, sure. Let’s do it. J, don’t freak out. I’m about to get involved in a magic trick.”

“And just when I thought the day couldn’t get any weirder…” the A.I. said in the most dry voice.

Tony raised his hand and watched the same yellowish thread as yesterday being woven around his wrist. Again, he felt the warm tingle up his arm. This time they went right back to work afterwards. They ordered food in and threw around ideas while running more tests for the rest of the day.

A few minutes before midnight, Tony pointed his scanner back to Strange. “You said you think this is part of a science problem. Could it be that someone accidentally or knowingly built a device that caused this?”It would be a classic super villain trope.

Strange considered it. “It is possible. Maybe I’m not affected because of the Eye.”

“Right. Time magic?” Tony eyed the necklace and Strange nodded. “Maybe I should wear it to see if you’re not affected without it. But then it would be a pain in the ass to explain everything to you if you don’t remember this anymore. Maybe we use a third neutral party we instruct…”

“I swore an oath to protect the time stone,” Strange interrupted him sternly. “I will not hand it to anyone.” He did that stern face thing, which unfortunately was kinda hot.

Tony deflected that thought immediately. “Alright, Gollum. Got it. No touchie.” Although he had been allowed to scan it earlier.

The engineer looked back at his screen. “I think I’m getting something. An increase of power similar to-…”

_____________________

Tony woke up to the voice of Jarvis. “Sir, Doctor Strange has appeared in your kitchen.”

He got out of bed and walked into his bathroom. “That’s fine. We’re working on a time loop problem. Start the coffee machine and clear the day.”

It was a weird feeling to wake up without actually going to sleep before. Just as Strange had described it. Like he had blacked out for a moment. A very long moment. He put on a fresh shirt, although he hadn’t worn the one from before yet. Then he walked to the kitchen.

Stephen had made himself at home and had taken the operating coffee machine as a sign to help himself to some tea.

“You’re earlier than usual,” Tony noted with a glance at his watch.

“Normally I take some time before I come over. Meditating and trying not going crazy over having the same conversations over and over again. That didn’t seem necessary today.”

Tony nodded in understanding and emptied half of his mug. “So, there were some readings. Similar to you using magic. But different.”

“Different how?”

“Hard to say. I got reset as well before I could get a better look at it. We should try again today and also change the time zone. I could fly us to japan.”

“Or, you know, I can open a portal straight to it to save some time.”

Tony froze.

“That’s not an option,” he said after a pause a second too long.

“Why not?”

Of course Strange asked. It was a fair question. Tony didn’t really want to talk about it though. The memory of the attack on New York, and the nuke and what he saw in space, made him shudder.

He became defensive. “It’s just not an option, okay?”

Stephen crossed his arms, willing to bring his point across. “Not really. Flying by plane, even with a private jet, costs a lot of time and we’re not able to do much while on it. It’s a waste of time and I don’t understand why you insist on it,” he pressed.

“Because I don’t want to step through a portal ever again! Nor do I want it in my home or anywhere else near me!” Tony shouted angrily and it made Strange pause and look at him through his eyes as a doctor. He noticed the shaking shoulders and the hands balled to fist.

It was fear that was showing underneath the outburst.

In a neutral voice he asked, “How do you think I get into your kitchen every morning?”

Tony closed his eyes shut before opening them again. “I’ll just pretend you didn’t ask that. For the sake of both of us.”He was this close to throwing the man out and having a minor breakdown in the middle of his lab. For a moment he thought Strange would continue arguing, but the sorcerer remained quiet.

Silence spread. In lack of something better to do and just to do something Tony looked into his empty coffee mug.

Then, suddenly: “I can’t take a car to the airport.”

Strange’s voice was stripped of all emotions. Tony, who had come across an article from a car crash in 2016 while doing his background check on the wizard, nodded. “How about we just travel individually?”

That worked for both of them. They also agreed that instead of going to Japan on the other side of the world, they would just go to Malibu, California. That was still a time difference of three hours and they could work in Tony’s personal lab in his mansion.

Sitting in his private jet, Tony was regretting his latest life choices.

The rush of excitement he had felt the first day facing this unique problem and the scientific urge to solve it had faded quickly. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barely anything good ever came from the wizards.

Why did he even agree in the first place?

Curiosity killed the cat.

Working with Strange was annoying already. All the reasons why Tony didn’t like him were shoved right into his face. Stupid magic giving him stupid anxiety attacks.

It took a lot of willpower not to have a drink in his hand right now. He played with his phone in his hand to distract him from that thought.

It was a five hour flight to Malibu. They had arranged a time when they wanted to meet and Tony had provided a photo of his front door because apparently wizards needed visuals to create portals. That was an interesting fact. Though it raised more questions.

“How did you get into my penthouse in the first place then?” Tony surely would never invite him, even if he didn’t remember. Especially if he didn’t remember.

He didn’t like Strange’s answer a bit. “As a sorcerer I have other means to get good looks of places. It is more polite to ask beforehand but you understand I was in a unique situation.”

Tony did understand but it still felt like his home had been invaded and that just made him more angry. Sure, nothing was stopping him from turning around and going back to New York, forgetting about this whole ordeal – literally. But that was the thing that made him agree to this in the first place: not remembering felt like being ripped of his own choice. Of his life. Of his free will. Besides the scientific aspect to it he wanted to explore. And of course his ever present urge to help. Even if it was his nemesis.

Tony sighed. “Jarvis, call Rhodey.” He needed someone to talk to and his friend always had advice. Most of the time Tony chose to ignore it, but he appreciated it anyway.

It took some time until Rhodey answered the call. “What’s up, Tones?”

“Honey bear, good to hear your voice. Are you at work? Am I interrupting you?”

“Kinda, but it’s fine.” Rhodey quietly gave instructions to someone in the room. Then it sounded like he stepped out. It couldn’t be too important if he was willing to talk to Tony without complaining directly about him calling.

“Good. I’m always happy to distract the best Colonel the air force has ever seen.” He could practically hear his friend rolling his eyes and smiled fondly.

“I want that printed on a plate,” Rhodey said. “So, what’s up? Why are you calling?”

“Like I said, I just wanted to interrupt you. Maybe annoy some generals if they happen to be nearby. You know me; I can’t resist.”

“Tony…” His voice was warningly and Tony knew if he didn’t want his friend to hang up on him he had to speak now or forever hold his tongue. Tony had never held his tongue once in his life.

“Alright, you got me. Did you happen to notice anything unusual today? Or yesterday. Like globally.”

“Why? What happened?” Rhodey was all business in an instant.

“It’s complicated, but it’s not a crisis – yet. Probably won’t be one in the future,” Tony explained evasively.

It didn’t reassure Rhodey at all. “Do I need to call someone?”

“No. You won’t even notice there might be a problem. I’m working on it. And that’s the thing, you know. I’ve been consulted on this project by someone I would have never guessed. In the ‘I kinda hate his guts’ sense. But this thing, it’s bigger than us.”

There was a pause in which Rhodey took in what he had just been told and all the layers to it Tony hadn’t said. He really knew his friend well.

“Sometimes we have to put our differences aside, Tony. If it’s really that important.”

He was right. Of course he was.

“And if they annoy you too much you can always screw them and do it alone. They came to you after all.”

“For this I actually need him too. For once my own abilities aren’t enough.” It wasn’t as hard to admit as he thought it would be. He wouldn’t even know there was a problem without Strange’s soul spell thing.

“Wow, I definitely want that printed on a plate,” Rhodey said, thoroughly impressed. “Wait, we’re not talking about Doom, are we? That guy’s mad and you shouldn’t work with him on anything.”

Tony snorted. “No, it’s not him. I respect Victor’s work even if I don’t approve of his aesthetic choice. He is way too dramatic and phantom of the opera like.”

He deliberately didn’t mention that Strange was the person in question, because he didn’t count as one of the good guys either. Quite the opposite in fact.

While War Machine had never joined one of the matches they had with Strange, the wizards had managed to cross all branches of the military often enough to be on their list.

“Alright, I guess I’ll continue working on the project. But what do I do if he keeps pushing all my buttons?” Tony asked.

“You’re smart and very petty. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“That I am.” Tony smirked. “Thanks platypus. You’re the best.”

“I know. Call me before you come into a situation where you need to hide a body.”

“No promises.”

When Tony ended the call he felt much better already.

When he pulled up in front of his mansion, Strange was already waiting for him. The speck of blue looked so very out of place and the first thing out of Tony’s mouth was, “Do you ever wear something normal?”

Stephen looked down at himself. "This is practical and comfortable." He sounded reserved, as if he was trying not to provoke another argument.

Tony led him into the house. “We are doing science here. This isn’t a magic field trip. Jeans and a t-shirt would be sufficient.”

He didn’t get an answer but when turned around the sorcerer had changed his outfit at some point in the last five seconds, and was now wearing dark pants and a burgundy shirt under his cape. Tony looked up and down on him, but it was hard to tell what he thought about it under the dark-tinted sunglasses he was wearing. And boy, was he glad he was wearing them. He had never seen the sorcerer out of his ancient robes and he hadn’t been prepared for it. Who would have thought that the wizard could rock a normal outfit?

Instead of commenting on it, he changed the topic.

“We should set some ground rules.” They probably should have done this on the very first day. Strange gestured to him to continue.

“You know Jarvis is monitoring everything. We’re working together on this but he will tell me if you do something suspicious. He has the authority to intervene at his own discretion should he deem it necessary. Besides coming and leaving through the kitchen, I don’t want any portals in my house. I don’t want to see any portals anywhere near me at all. And I want you never ever under any circumstances meddling with my head with your magic.” Tony stressed that last point.

Stephen had already realized that these were all sensitive issues for the engineer. There was nothing in the rules that he hadn't expected.

“What about emergencies regarding the portals?” he asked.

Tony thought about it. “It has to be a world threatening or a life-or-death scenario to make it an emergency. Since both didn’t happen on a Wednesday, I doubt it will be on future Wednesdays.”

Stephen accepted it with a nod.

“So, what are your rules?” Tony asked the man. “Don’t look so surprised. This goes both ways.”

It didn’t happen often that Stephen was surprised by someone’s request. Especially since he was trapped in a time loop, he was used to knowing exactly what everyone was going to say. Or at least able to predict it vaguely. But he hadn’t been prepared for this. In fact, he had been ready to comply with almost any demands Tony would have made, simply because he needed his help. And Tony didn’t ask for this. He was there because Stephen had pulled him into this mess. Right now, Tony was looking at him expectantly, so the sorcerer pondered a moment about the question.

“Since you stopped forgetting everything, I will be more guarded to certain information regarding the order of the Mystic Arts to protect it. You’ll understand that some details are too sensible to share with someone who will probably continue to fight me after this is over.”

“That’s not really a rule, but sure. It’s NDA 101.”

Still, it was the only thing that came to Stephen's mind right then. When he added nothing more, Tony shrugged and led him to his lab downstairs. Most of the tools and equipment he had taken with him when he moved to New York, but it was still fully equipped.

"We should do that bonding spell, before we miss the slot," he reminded Strange. It should be funny that he of all people, Tony Stark, hater of all magic, had to remind his enemy Doctor Strange himself, a certified wizard – or whatever – of a spell that affected them both. Voluntarily. But somehow he had a feeling that after their argument earlier, Strange would be reluctant to even bring it up, let alone perform the spell.

And he was right, because Strange stopped looking around the lab and turned his head to Tony instead. “Are you sure you still want to? I understand if you changed your mind. This is a unique situation.”

For someone called a villain he was very considerate here. Once more Tony wondered what their lives would be like, if maybe they had met under different circumstances. They worked pretty well together, aside from having different opinions on magic. And the sorcerer definitely looked handso-… nope he wouldn’t go there. Not now. Not here. Not at all, with any luck.

“Now you are repeating yourself every day. I told you: I don’t like it if someone messes with my head. I want to remember what I did and what happened. I did my fair share of blacking out in college and in my early twenties. Been there, done that, moving on. If you ask me the same question again tomorrow, I’ll be pissed.”

Strange looked relieved. He didn't admit it, but he was glad that Tony had decided to stay with him. It had only been two days, but it felt like the engineer was now the only thing keeping him sane. If he was honest, he loved the fact that Tony was unpredictable. Had always been, but now even more so.

Hearing Stark’s reasons, he understood. He didn’t know what happened to the engineer that caused him to guard his mind so ferociously, but as a brain doctor and someone who relied on his own mind a lot, it wasn’t hard to imagine how frightening and confusing it must be to not remember something so big as whole days. He had presented Tony with his own formulas and theories, but Stark had lacked the context and the path to get there. It must have seemed to him as if a thought that he hadn't even had yet, but which he knew was his, had been extracted from his brain and then served to him as a finished dish. Or as if someone else had taken over his body and his mind for a while and then just left, while Tony never noticed that someone had been there in the first place.

They settled the bond before they plugged in the scanners. There were still a few hours till midnight in New York, even more in California.

“We should do a world wide scan too. You know, just to rule out that someone built a time loop machine,” Tony explained.

Strange raised an eyebrow. “Your scanner has that kind of range?”

“No, but I can link it to my satellite and cover at least 65 percent of Earth with it. We’re doing the other side tomorrow. It will take a few seconds longer to give me the results, but with some luck I can take a look at them before we get reset.”

It was as good a plan as any and they started to work on it. Well, mostly Tony, since he was the engineering expert.

He was deep in thought, focusing on the equations on the Starkpad in front of him when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hm?”He turned his head, expecting to see Strange. But instead the Cloak of Levitation floated in front of him.

“What?” Tony asked.

Hesitantly, the cloak held out a corner to him like a hand. Was it meant as a peace offering?

Fine, if it meant that it would be less rude to him.

Tony raised his own hand and shook the offered fabric.

Satisfied, the cloak then returned to Strange's shoulders. The sorcerer didn’t acknowledge the exchange, nor did he look up from his own work, but there was a small smile on his face.

_____________________

“So, it is linked to the Pacific Time Zone,” Strange greets him the next Wednesday morning in his kitchen. With a flick of his hand, Stephen conjured a bag from a bakery he had stopped by. Today felt like a breakfast day. He placed it on the kitchen table and Tony went to inspect it immediately.

“Yepp.” Tony popped the ‘p’, before he took a bite of a biscuit. It was filled with chocolate. “And, unfortunately, there’s no sign of a big time loop machine so far.”

“Would have been too convenient.”

“Yes, we don’t want to make it too easy, do we? Let’s work on breaking out of the loop. Where did you get these?” He waved the biscuit in his hand.

“Paris.”

“At least the Parisians are good for something,” Tony remarked, taking another bite.

Equipped with tea, coffee and the bakery's bag, they went into the lab. They filled Jarvis in on what was going on and then started working.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #doctor strange #tony stark #stephen strange x tony stark #marvel #mcu #strangeiron #spacemermaid #Wednesday #time loop #spacemermaidwriting

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zarvasace · 3 months

Text

Vidow Animatic Thoughts (pt 1)

I shall detail thought process etc. let’s go. It’s long. Under cut. Hit tumblr max image upload so this is three parts.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Animatic can be found here

Program: procreate dreams (it’s clunky but it works). This whole video took me something like 8 hours? Over the course of uhhh three days? Pretty quick.

Introduction

This is my first ever animatic, so when I began, I wanted to keep it simple. I chose my favorite pencil brush and like three colors (I later added one for emphasis). I had a couple specific scenes in mind, and I knew how I wanted the progression to go, but I winged most of it, shot by shot. The song does a good job of building up with a sort of three-act structure, so.

I referenced the castle from Breath of the Wild, but I didn’t stress too much about the details. The plan was to make it sketchy and quick. The beginning is mostly just things moving across the screen. I think that works, though, setting up the angsty mood and giving me room to expand later on. The first shot with Vio’s face is sort of meant to be a fake-out: you’re looking at him, but no he’s looking at a mirror, which is obvious when it cracks. Not sure if that came across but the cracks are very cool anyway.

This is also the first time you see white, which sort of represents change/time through the whole thing.

And then we see the first of Shadow, and he has his own color: black. He's a real drawing here (rather than black smoke or something) mostly to establish that black=Shadow.

Not much to say about the next bit, with the door and stuff dropping, I just wanted to make it clear that we’re in Vio’s bedroom at the end of a day.

And then he’s being dramatic about getting in bed. Mostly just to show that he’s tired and Haunted. Also I think it does work in establishing that this isn’t really Shadow’s doing. Whether or not he’s actually there doesn’t matter, because it’s Vio who thinks he does, and we’re seeing this from Vio’s perspective. He’s the one who can’t let Shadow go, so whether Shadow is actually haunting him like a ghost doesn’t matter.

Verse 1

SO first off, Vio is sad and has bad dreams. Well, good dreams. They're good, but they make him sad. Shadow shows up in black again, definitely part of the dream (further blurring the line between reality and delusion). Vio's in white in his dream, which doesn't happen anywhere else. If white represents change, then this is Past Vio, or the Vio That Vio Wishes He Was But Isn't. It's definitely memories of some kind, though, because white Vio's hair is short, where normal Vio has a long braid throughout.

We only see Shadow as more than an influence (by that I mean a shadow, a flash, a feeling) a few times, and this is the first. His presence is stronger in dreams and weaker in the reality that Vio lives in.

But the sun comes up and Vio is actually alone. White is the sun/light a lot here, meaning that time is passing. Vio's still brooding. (I really like that little "in the heat of the day" shot, the glint is in Vio's lower eyes which may hint at tears, but it's definitely not obvious yet.) I don't particularly LOVE that drawing of Vio braiding his hair, but it gets the point across. He can't stop thinking about Shadow, even as he goes about his day.

Chorus 1

This part hammers that in: Vio CAN'T stop thinking about Shadow and wallowing in his memories, it's driving him to distraction and failure. He's not moving on. It's right there in the lyrics: "I can never let you go." There's a reference to evil root beer as he's eating, distracted from Red (hi Red!) right beside him. He feels guilty, and can't shoot arrows without imagining himself hurting Shadow more. He still half-expects Shadow to be there for his discoveries. He feels watched, like Shadow should be there all the time, even when he isn't doing anything. He's brooding. Broody boy.

Interlude

Broody boy continues. Important: when he's walking to his room/the library/wherever books are, he's going right to left. I studied a couple videos of walk cycles to get those feet right, and they still aren't right, but I'm still impressed with myself! Also, apparently I now have a mental library of Gothic Windows. I thought that was a fun shot. Vio sure sighs a lot.

Verse 2

This verse is ramping things up and preparing for the turn.

"Nothing ever changes, so I've learned." I feel like this is quite a Vio statement to make. I don't think it's perfectly applicable—in this post-canon-adjacent AU, clearly the four of them are still separate people, which would be quite a change, but for Vio? I think it means that he's maybe a little upset that nobody else is grieving to the point of distraction. People are going about their lives, but every single step Vio takes is shadowed. (ba dum tish.)

The flower was a spur-of-the-moment decision, since I wanted something in the spot where the book was and didn't really want to just draw vague smoke again. But it ended up being thematic and calling back to a later moment in the video. And maybe it hints that Shadow might be showing his approval that Vio is at least trying to do what he loves (that is, reading books.)

And Vio's back in his room, surrounded by books. He's tried so hard to forget. He doesn't look particularly interested in what he's reading, and we know why. I tried to frame that "to forget" shot in a way that looks like he might be drowning in his own ambition, like he has all these books and he's just desperate that one of them will distract him or be a replacement for Shadow's influence in his life, which is quickly growing to dangerous levels...

Did Vio actually see Shadow here? Well, once again, it doesn't matter, because Vio thinks he did, thinks so hard that he throws himself to the ground. It doesn't injure him, but it doesn't take a fortune-teller to imagine that he might do something truly reckless if this keeps going. And Vio sees that, I think, here. He realizes that what he sees might not be real. He's in the "dark night of the soul" here, and actually cries, which is a big deal for his character. It's just two tears—white, if you'll notice—but it represents his hitting rock-bottom.

"And you've never loved me once" is maybe not the right line for this, I considered changing it to "you only loved me once" but I eventually decided to keep the line as it is in the song so there's minimal dissonance for the viewer. The song's story isn't quite the same as the one I'm pulling out here, but this line is the turning point in the song's story and in mine.

(continued in part 2!)

#fs #vidow #vidow animatic

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middleearthpixie · 8 months

Text

Brilliant Disguise ~ Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Speech therapist Josephine Asharm has been brought into Erebor to work with Bifur, but trying to find her place among people who eye her suspiciously would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but when Sophie finds herself caught between the king, his most trusted lieutenant, and the dwarf she’s there to help? She’s certain no good can come of it. Being of Man, not only does she stand out in the dwarf kingdom, she’s not entirely certain she’s actually welcome there at all.

Thorin only agreed to allow Sophie to live amongst them out of a sense of duty to Bifur, who is recovering from an odd head injury (is there any other way to describe having an axe blade lodged in one’s head, only to have it later dislodged during the Battle of the Five Armies?) Before the battle, he spoke only khuzdul. But since it? He’s regained the ability to speak Westron—if only he could but remember any of it. As for Thorin? He’s trying his damndest to ignore the speech therapist, not to mention his own growing feelings for her, even as he is also recovering from his near fatal wounding in the same battle.

Both Sophie and Thorin are haunted by their pasts and are uncertain of their futures, but sometimes, chances must be taken…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x OFC Josephine (Sophie) Asharm

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.3k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketchy-loo6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Fortunately, the session with Bifur went without a hitch, and Sophie felt more than a hint of satisfaction at how proud he was at his progress. Words came more easily to him now, and because of this, his level of frustration remained somewhat low, which meant he progressed at a much faster rate.

When they finished, she checked up on Heather, who was playing with Gimli under Miss Oakmane’s watchful eye, went to her chambers to grab her cloak, and then hurried back up to the main gate.

“Where are you off to today, Mrs. Asharm?”

She smiled up at Dolram. “I have a few errands to run. But, worry not, I will be back long before sundown.”

“Very well. Be careful, though. I’ve heard there have been several orc sightings these last few days.”

“Orcs? Wonderful.”

“I think they were coming from up north, and not across the plains, but take care just the same.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He nodded and as the gates opened and she stepped out into the pale sunlight of midafternoon, Sophie tried to ignore the hint of warning in her belly. She didn’t truly wish to go into Dale, but at the same time, she had to know who Heather saw.

And if it was Sten, how?

That was her biggest question. How was he there?

You know.

She ignored the niggling little voice as she made her way across the plains, up the sloping road into Dale. No, she would not acknowledge that little voice because to do so would be to give it power and to give it power meant that she had somehow fouled up the one thing she’d set out to do.

And if she had…

Dale bustled with activity, shops flourished now and despite the chill in the air, people were out and about, ducking into and out of the shops, gathering at the pubs and taverns, and all the while, work went on around them. At the far end of Stone Street, she squinted out over the water of the Long Lake, and saw—or so she thought—work going on there as well. Life had resumed after the battle, after Smaug, and not only had it resumed, it thrived.

Despite her unease, and despite her growing sense of urgency at getting to the bottom of who Heather had seen, Sophie took comfort in seeing how life went on, in seeing how no matter how terrible things might have been, people found a way not only to survive but to thrive no matter what life might have thrown their way.

It was something that didn't always come so easily to her. In the darkest of her days, when she would sit with an infant Heather in her arms and promise to protect her, Sophie would try to convince herself that one day, she would be free of Sten’s wrath, of his lies, his anger.

His fists.

Although she’d told Thorin that Sten was not above using violence, she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him the entire truth. She felt so stupid, so blind, for falling for Sten to begin with. She should have left the very first time he’d swung at her. But then, he’d immediately acted horrified, cried and begged her forgiveness, all the while promising he would never do something like that again.

She’d forgiven him. It was a lapse, only. He would keep his promise.

But he’d always had some justification for losing his temper with her—she was a sorry housekeeper, his supper was late getting on the table, he’d had a long day, he’d had too much to drink.

And each time, he’d beg for forgiveness.

And each time, he’d promise to never raise a hand to her again.

Until the next time.

Well, there would be no more next times. She’d made sure of that.

At least, she thought she’d made sure of it.

But now, she wondered.

So, there she was in Dale and if Sten was somehow there, she would find him. And when she did, she would be absolutely certain there were no more next times. Ever.

****

Bard looked decidedly less than thrilled to find Thorin and Dwalin at his door. “Did we have a meeting today that I’d forgotten?” he said by way of greeting.

“Not at all. I’ve come to speak with you on a personal matter.”

Bard’s eyes darted from him to Dwalin and back. “And you thought it necessary to bring your muscle?”

“Now, see here, Lakeman—” Dwalin began.

Thorin held up a hand to silence him. “I did not bring him for muscle, but for company. Now, if you don't mind? May we come in?”

Bard stepped back, holding the door wider. “I don't suppose it would hurt. Come in. Would you care for some tea? It’s a bit chilly out there this afternoon.”

“That would be fine, thank you.” Thorin brushed by him to step into the front hallway. “Is there somewhere we might talk privately?”

“There is no one here but me, Thorin,” Bard said with a hint of a smile. He gestured toward the back of the Provincial House. “But, come into the kitchen and we can talk while the water heats.”

Dwalin shot Thorin a look, which he promptly ignored, and they followed Bard down the narrow hallway to the kitchen, which ran along the back of the house. A rectangular table had been tucked into the far corner, opposite the kitchen door, with a long bench on either of the long sides. A bowl of fruit—mostly apples—stood in the center of the scratched and battered oak, and a hint of cinnamon hung in the air. Most likely thanks to the pie he saw cooling on the kitchen windowsill.

“You bake in your spare time?” Thorin asked, looking over at Dwalin, who stared back with raised eyebrows.

“I do not, no. My oldest, Sigrid, baked it this morning. She and her sister are in town doing a bit of shopping for supper tonight.” Bard lifted a slightly dented kettle to hang over the fire crackling on the large stone hearth. “You would be welcome to join us, if you feel your business will spill over that late.”

“Thank you, but no. It shouldn’t.” Thorin gestured to the bench. “May I?”

“Oh, of course.”

Thorin and Dwalin settled on the far side of the table, the bench there tucked into an alcove with a bay window overlooking the alleyway between the Provincial House and its neighbor. Dwalin peered out the window and snorted. “Lovely view ye have here.”

“It used to have a fine view of the water,” Bard explained, “when the house was first built. But over time, as Dale grew, other houses replaced that view.”

He nodded toward the window as he crossed to sit across from them. “This is actually an improvement over what it had been—several blackened and charred frameworks that were houses before Smaug.”

“How do ye know this? I thought ye were born and bred in Esgaroth?”

Bard offered Dwalin a mild smile. “They did let us leave on occasion, you know. And my father did trade in Dale before Smaug’s arrival. At one time, my forebears thought to cross the lake and settle here, but that was usually easier said than done. I also found the original town plans when I was going through the basement here, and they show that at one time, this house had marvelous views of both Esgaroth and Erebor. Dale was the crown jewel of this part of Middle Earth.”

Thorin nodded. “I remember it, actually. I would come here with my father, my grandfather, on occasion. They would be talking over matters with the Master of Dale and I’d wander out onto that patio out beyond that door,” he nodded toward the kitchen door, “and would just look out over the water. It was far more interesting than any business dealings with the Master.”

Bard smiled. “I can imagine for a child it would be. I would often do the same, from Esgaroth. Would be on the barge with my father, and he’d be trying to teach me something and I would be lost in thought, looking over at this bustling stone city that wasn’t always cold and windy and damp, as Esgaroth was.”

Dwalin looked from Thorin to Bard and back, his expression suggesting he was about to roll his eyes hard enough to run the risk of them becoming stuck. “Thorin, Mrs. Asharm?”

Thorin bobbed his head. “Right, I beg your pardon, of course. But there is a reason I’m here. And it has to do with Mrs. Asharm.”

Bard’s forehead creased. “What about her? I’ll have to confess, I don't know her very well, Thorin.”

The kettle began to steam, so Bard rose and moved to take it from the fire, then took out a small tin Thorin assumed held tea. As he set to work fixing them each a cup, he said, “But, if I can help, I will. What did you wish to ask me?”

Thorin sat back, the sounds of children laughing as they raced through the alley echoing through the kitchen. He thought back to how terrified Heather had looked the night before and his stomach kinked. “Did you know Mrs. Asharm’s husband?”

“Sten?” Bard carefully poured boiling water into the pot holding the tea, then set the kettle on the sideboard. “I knew him. Not well, but as he was a fisherman, our paths crossed on occasion.”

Thorin hesitated, trying to come up with the most tactful way to bring up the Asharm marriage, but nothing came easily to mind, so he simply blurted, “What happened to him?”

“He went missing. As I said, he was a fisherman and that’s dangerous work to begin with. Many go out and never come home. It’s tragic, but unfortunately, not all unusual.”

A hint of tension tightened Thorin’s gut. “Is that what happened to him?”

“Why have you not simply asked his widow?”

“Can ye just answer the question?”

Thorin shook his head at Dwalin. “That’s not helping.” He looked back to Bard. “I’ve tried and she refuses to discuss it.”

Bard’s forehead furrowed more. “So, you thought I might wish to gossip about a woman I barely know?”

“No, I am not interested in gossip. I am interested in finding out what happened to the man.”

Bard poured the tea and brought over first two cups, which he set before Thorin and Dwalin, and then retrieved the third for himself. “I don't know if I’m comfortable with this, Thorin. I did not know either of them well.”

“But you do know what happened to Mr. Asharm, don’t you?”

Bard nodded slowly, lifting his cup to blow on it. Wisps of steam curled away from the shimmering surface. “He’d gone out one night, at dusk, and a storm whipped up, which isn’t at all unusual on the lake. They come from the north often, and when they hit the lake, with all that water? They become powerful very quickly. The belief was he’d been taken by a rogue wave.”

“A what?” Dwalin asked.

“A rogue wave, Mr. Dwalin. The currents on the Long Lake are powerful and unpredictable and when the winds change suddenly, as they are wont to do, especially in the winter, when the gales come early, they can create waves two, three, sometimes four times the height of typical waves. Boats can take a solid hit and roll if they are positioned the right way, but if a rogue wave hits or a higher than average wave hits and you’re facing it head-on? You will capsize for certain. And in that lake, with those icy waters? A body will not survive long. Thirty minutes to perhaps ninety minutes tops.”

Thorin wrapped his hand about his steaming mug. “And would a body be recovered?”

“Sometimes, but not always. The lake is large and cold and very deep—it does not easily give up its dead, as the legend goes. Why do you ask me about this? I know you’ve said Mrs. Asharm does not speak of it, but has she said anything? And if so, do you doubt the veracity of her words?”

“She says very little, and while I don’t doubt her words, I wanted to speak to someone who would be rather impartial about the man in question. As to why I’m asking, it’s due to something that happened last eve when she and I were up here with her daughter. Something odd. Very odd, actually.”

“Ah… Heather.” Bard smiled. “She’s an imp, that one.”

“Aye,” Dwalin chuckled, bobbing his head, “ye can say that again.”

Thorin also smiled. “She is, but it is part of her charm. And she is why I am asking, why I am concerned.”

Bard’s smile faded. “What happened?”

“She thinks she saw her father at the end of an alleyway. Said he smiled, but it was a scary smile and she was truly terrified.” Thorin lowered the mug without taking a sip. “And I’m curious as to how she sees a man who is dead.”

Bard said nothing at first, but lifted his own cup to take a sip. The air grew thick with something Thorin couldn't quite explain, but it unsettled him just the same. He held Bard’s stare easily as he added, “And Sten Asharm is dead, isn’t he?”

Bard lowered the cup once more. “As far as I know, both of the Asharm brothers are, as he had a twin who died when they were but children.”

Thorin nodded. “I knew that much. And there are no other brothers?”

Again, Bard said nothing. Scowling, Dwalin tapped his fingertips against the table. “It is no’ a trick question, Lakeman.”

“I cannot answer that for certain, simply because there were rumors at one time that there was a third boy. But no one knows the truth about him.” He looked from Dwalin to Thorin. “The rumor was that Asharm’s father had sired another child with a woman not his wife. Esgaroth is small in its own right and if he’d had an affair, it most likely would have been known by someone, yet no one knows the woman’s name or, if the child exists, his name. All we ever heard was there was a third son, a bastard, but no name was ever given. If he exists, he’d be about the same age, but since I know not whether the twins favored their mother or their father, I wouldn’t even hazard a guess how much of a resemblance this unnamed man might or might not have to Sten.”

Thorin couldn't hold back his sigh of irritation. “So, there might or might not be a man out there who might or might not bear a striking resemblance to the dead father—who might not actually be dead—of a frightened four year old and her equally frightened mother.”

“That’s about right.”

“That’s about rig—that does not help at all. Not one bit.”

To his credit, Bard looked no happier than Thorin felt, and shook his head as he said, “I understand the frustration of it. But, I’m afraid it’s the best I can offer. I was not friends with either Sten or Sophie Asharm. I only knew Asharm in passing and as I said, if the rumors of the affair and bastard son are true, I know nothing more than he might be at most a year or so younger than Sten. And I only know that because I know the elder Asharm died before his twin sons were a year old.”

“How do ye know this, if ye claim not to know the man?”

“Mr. Dwalin,” Bard turned a patient smile to him, “my mother was a seamstress. She was tasked with sewing the shroud for him when he died. I was only a child at the time, but I remember it because it gave me nightmares. I thought it was a ghost.”

Thorin sat back in his chair. “Is there anyone who might know for certain whether this third son exists?”

“I don’t know. Possibly. You would have to ask around, but the people of Esgaroth have scattered to the four corners of Middle Earth since the night Smaug incinerated the town.”

“I know.” Thorin rubbed his eyes with one hand. “And I have one very upset little girl and her equally upset mother to soothe.”

Bard let out a low sigh. “I can ask around, and see if anyone might have an answer.”

“Thank you, but no. I’d rather not have Mrs. Asharm and her daughter being gossiped about.” With a soft grunt, Thorin eased out from the bench and stood. “I thank you for your time, though.”

“I only wish I was actually of use.”

“As do I, but I’m grateful just the same.” Thorin bobbed his head and held out a hand.

Bard took it and gave it a pump. “If I come across any more information, I will be sure to let you know. I can only imagine the worry on Mrs. Asharm’s mind. If I can alleviate it, I will.”

“Again, thank you.” Thorin glanced over at Dwalin. “We should get back. I’d rather not be crossing the plains in the dark.”

“I’ve heard rumblings that an orc pack has been seen not far from Ravenhill,” Bard said. “I hope we are not about to have trouble with them once more.”

“That makes two of us.” Thorin moved to the kitchen door and thrust it open. “Again, I thank you for your time.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know if I find out anything else and perhaps then your man will stop killing me in his mind.”

Thorin grinned. “He probably isn’t doing any such thing. That is simply how he looks.”

“Simply how I—” Dwalin sputtered, following Thorin down the somewhat rickety wooden back staircase. “I’ll have ye know I was killing him in my mind, thank ye very much.”

“Why?” Thorin asked this over one shoulder as he stepped from the last riser. “We needed his help and he offered it. Why kill him in your mind?”

“Because he’s still a bit too lippy for my liking, is why.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Let’s just head back, shall we?” He squinted at the setting sun on the horizon, streaking the sky crimson and gold despite the thickening iron-gray clouds. “It will be dark soon and if there is an orc pack lurking near our borders, I’m in no mood to contend with them tonight.”

So with that, they set off, through the streets of Dale, back to the main road leading out and across the plains. As they walked, Thorin mulled over everything Bard had told him. Two, possibly three brothers. One unidentified and unnamed. One definitely dead. One most likely dead.

So, it stood to reason that the man Heather saw, the one she thought was her father, was quite possibly this third unaccounted for brother. But why? Why would he be in Dale, at the end of an alleyway, smiling at a little girl he most likely would not know?

Unless Sten Asharm wasn’t dead at all.

“And would a body be recovered?”

“Sometimes, but not always. The lake is large and cold and very deep—it does not easily give up its dead, as the legend goes.”

So, if Sten Asharm was the man Heather saw, why had he been pretending to be dead?

Or was he not pretending at all and Sophie simply wanted the world to think he was dead?

And if so, why?

A dull ache took root within his skull, back behind his eyes. Too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

The first rain drops spattered around them about three-quarters of the way across the plains, and as they hurried their steps to try to outrun it, Thorin couldn't help but wonder how much Sophie was not telling him about her husband and why.

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage

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callibee · 1 year

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Wow, I must say, your artistic talents are truly captivating! The way you draw is absolutely mesmerizing, and it's clear that you put a lot of heart and soul into your work. Have you ever considered sharing your art progress, from the initial sketches to the final product? I think it would be an incredible journey for your audience to witness and a fantastic opportunity for you to showcase your creative process. Keep up the phenomenal work, and I can't wait to see more.

oh anon pls you sound so.... refined HEKHFJ i have actually thought about it though! i just havent really acted upon it❔wld u all be interested in more sketchy stuff that showcases my process instead of my usual finished pieces?

#calli written letters #if so ill def need to get used to it though bc im so used to posting finished stuff huhu #but if its smthn yall wld be interested in im more than happy 2 do it :3

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skalidra · 7 months

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Fic Writers Showcase Game

@there-must-be-a-lock tagged me!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

First fic published on Ao3: That would be The Other Side of the Mirror, an Earth-3 continuity mess with a JayDick main pair, featuring Roy as a 3rd PoV. First chapter was posted in September, 2014, currently 200k, 20 chapters , and as of yet unfinished, though I think as it stands it ends on a decently hopeful note. I do still recall the main plot points of where it goes, and would like to finish it someday.

Last fic published: I posted the first chapter of Five Finger Discount just yesterday, which is the 5th piece in my Worth Counting series, an alpha!Slade/alpha!Jason series exploring a variety of kinks but with a focus on non-formal dom/sub vibes, competence/strength kink, and mostly-play fighting. (The last finished story was Shifting Into Fourth which is the 4th piece of that same series, so, I'm a little bit on a theme here.)

Fandom/ship I only wrote once: I uh. I wrote Hamilton/Jefferson/Madison room-where-it-happens porn. For the Hamilton musical. It's called Do Whatever It Takes and I think it is still the thing that makes me feel the most sinfully dirty of all the things I've ever written. So there's that.

I also have Let's Be Clear, which is my only fic set anywhere in the MCU, and is a Daredevil oneshot of an asexual!Wesley being invited to join a Fisk/Vanessa relationship, as I vibed real hard with Wesley as a character and never really got over his unfortunate demise.

(Honorable mention to my four stories that are technically fandoms of their own, but all fall under the 'DCU' umbrella, being for the Arkham games, two shows in the CW Arrowverse, and the Teen Titans cartoon.)

Favorite fic in most popular fandom/ship: This is a little hard to quantify. Technically 'DCU (Comics)' comes in at 93k in stories, which would make JayDick the most popular pairing, which makes my favorite story Captain's Privileges. It's a Star Trek mirror!verse fusion with Captain!Dick and Engineer!Jason and so many unhealthy relationships everywhere, and I love it.

However! 'DCU (Comics)' is a very broad umbrella and it's not really fair to say it's my biggest fandom, since the slice I belong to is much smaller. Which means the more accurate winner is Voltron, at 85k stories. I technically have a Klance story but given that it is a big poly clusterfuck dark!fic I really have to actually give this to the second most popular pairing by stat, Sheith. Out of those, I think my favorite is I'm Not That Man, which was an early false-memories/brainwashed!Shiro fic set just before the wormhole split them all up.

Fic I wish more people read: An Extra Shot, hands down. Come read my gen, Wilson-family-focused exploration of what happens if Adeline dies during the attack on Joey! Come read Slade Wilson being forced into confronting the fact that he is a terrible dad and also now a widowed dad of three kids! Come read Billy trying his best to bludgeon all the terrible communicators of this family into actually working things out! READ THIS. THERE'S A SEQUEL IN PROGRESS. IT'S GOOD I SWEAR.

Fic that was hardest to write: I think the award for this has to go to Me, Not Her, a CaptainPan/CaptainSwan piece which I was apparently so frustrated with at some point that I straight up deleted the file. Four years later (no I am not kidding) I had the vague memory of it. Some sketchy thing I could maybe expand, now that I was having thoughts about OUaT again. I pull it out of the (then eternal) trash of Google Drive. It is five thousand words long and needs no more than pretty basic editing and a little padding at the end to round it off. I don't know what the hell was happening with me when I deleted it, but wow, lesson learned.

Fic that popped out fully-formed: I don't recall any that were explicitly like this, but I also don't tend to write like, neat little packaged stories all that often. If I'm writing oneshots they're usually for events. So my best answer to this is probably Fucking Androids? It's a Reed900 relationship origin story that blazed its way out of me during NaNoWriMo one year, named entirely for the sex pun and then in the end absolutely refusing to have any sex in it, so it won that fight. I remember at least most of it coming really, really easy.

Fic I'm proud of: Pulling out a weird little one, here. I'm going to say Take a Ride. It's a JayDick, Gotham City Garage story that I wrote for Firefright's birthday one year, and on reread I actually still really, really like it? It's just a neat apocalyptic-desert vibe relationship building thing, set in the criminally under-explored and rushed GCG world, and I really like how I put Dick together in this one. I recommend it.

Not tagging anyone specific, but if anyone would like to do this as well, feel free!

#Tag Games #Writing #Fanfiction

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theoddcatlady · 4 months

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The Dangers of Tattoos

Out of the nine guys at Dillan’s bachelor party, I’m the only one left alive. And I don’t know how much more time I have.

Dillan was a friend from my highschool days. We weren’t close, but we hung out when all our other friends were busy. I was happy to hear he was getting hitched to his girl Heather, they were good for each other. When he asked me to join him and a few of the other guys for drinks, I happily accepted. One last crazy night before he said I Do.

We’d all gotten pretty buzzed when Mickey threw out this brilliant idea:

‘We should all get tattoos!’

I’d never gotten a tattoo before, but I was probably one of two guys who hadn’t in the group. Mickey in particular was covered in ink, full sleeves on both arms and he had proudly shown off the progress made on one over his ribs- the inked outline of a Kraken. He and his artist were going to start putting in color in two months.

Like I said, I’d never been inked, but I was in awe. And to my drunk brain, getting a tattoo with the guys sounded fantastic. And whadya know, just down the street there was a parlor.

Unfortunately, they didn’t tattoo people who weren’t sober. The guy was incredibly patient, just pointing to the sign and saying if we wanted to get a tattoo after our hangovers, he’d happily help us out. The only one to get cranky about this was Derek, Mickey ended up dragging him out by the ear as the idiot cussed out the artist. Yeah, the artist said that all of us would get inked if we wanted except for Derek. Genius move, Derek.

When we were all on the street again, talking about getting more drinks, that’s when she just… appeared.

I didn’t hear her walk up, although I’m not sure how, she had heels that could put a man’s eye out. The only reason we even knew she was there was because she cleared her throat. I whipped around and she was like two inches behind me, way too much in my personal space for me to be comfortable. I yelped and slipped on some slush, landing on my ass. Everyone laughed but she just sighed and helped me to my feet.

She was wearing a puffy green coat and black skinny jeans, but even with her skin mostly covered I could see ink on her neck. Half her head was shaved and I saw three piercings in her exposed ear, not to mention the several on her face- eyebrows, septum, lips, this girl had it all.

“So, Phillips says you’re too drunk?” She grinned and chuckled pleasantly. “I’m Lacey. Come on, I’ll take you to my shop. I think I can work something out.” She turned around and started walking down the street.

Mickey whistled. “… She’s so fucking hot,” He murmured.

“You hear her though? Tattoos, man! Plan’s back in action!” Derek whooped and took off down the street after her.

Sober I realized how sketchy this was, but drunk me was just excited to get a tattoo. So I followed the herd. Like a moron.

The girl led us down a few side streets and took so many turns there is no way I could find my way back. But finally she led us down the side of a building and down a set of stairs to a metal door with one word stamped on it:

‘Coven’

“Come on in, boys,” She grinned and opened the door.

It actually wasn’t nearly as sketchy looking inside. I expected no ceiling, maybe one chair that reeked of mildew, but it was a legit tattoo shop. Pictures were all over the walls of the shop’s previous works, and there was another woman with firetruck red hair and huge gauges in her earlobes texting away in one of the leather chairs.

“Hey, Barb, we got customers,” The woman shrugged off her coat and threw it on the rack, revealing that she was only wearing a tank top and yeah- she was covered in ink. From the chin down it was just a myriad of pictures.

“Kay, Lacey,” Barb got up and glanced over. “Sooo, y’all gonna be matching or…”

I glanced over at Dillan, who nodded. “I’m getting married in two days, we’re just out partying!” He said, trying to sound bold.

Barb just smirked. “Cute. All right, I’ll take the bachelor, Lacey, mind taking the shrimpy guy? I think he’s a fainter,” She nodded at me and I was offended but only had a moment for that because Lacey grabbed my hand and yanked me to the chair.

She took a seat next to me and smiled, and I suppose she was quite pretty, although I wasn’t sure how old she was. “It’s gonna be fine, dude. Your first tattoo?” She asked. I heard Barb talking with Dillan quietly about what he wanted everyone to get.

I nodded. “Yeah. Never been really into them, but why not, right?” If I really regretted it, I’d just get it lasered away, I reasoned.

“Just remember to breathe,” She looked up at Barb, “Did he decide?”

Barb nodded and lifted a pic in the air of a symbol that looked like two triangles next to each other, a dot in the middle. Lacey giggled.

“Oh, love that choice! All right, buddy, where do you want it?”

I chose my upper arm. After that, everything kinda blurs together. I don’t even remember pain, I just remember stumbling out the door feeling kinda nauseated and trying to get an Uber.

I woke up the next morning, my arm hurt like hell, and I had fifteen missed calls from the guys last night and twenty one texts in the group text. Although my head was pounding, I managed to make out the point-

‘Dude, where tf is Mickey?’

‘his girlfriend said mickey didn’t make it home last night did any of you see where he went’

‘GUYS THERE WAS AN ACCIDENT LIKE TWO BLOCKS FROM COVEN DUDE GOT PANCAKED BY A SEMI TRUCK’

‘What the FUCK was it Mickey’

‘they literally cannot tell who it was the guy was in pieces’

Jesus Christ. My arm ached and I didn’t even know where to start with these texts. I popped some pain meds and called Dillan. He didn’t answer, so I tried Derek. When there was no answer, I had a bad feeling starting to form in my stomach.

After two more calls I got a response from one of the guys I barely knew, Toby. He was Dillan’s cousin and was just in the state for the wedding.

“Hey man, I’m sorry for calling so early-” I was cut off by Toby quite quickly.

“I was starting to think you fucking dropped off the edge of the earth, dude! You okay?”

I groaned. “Maybe? Tattoo hurts, but that’s normal I think. Was the guy last night Mickey?”

“I think they managed to ID him from some of the tattoos… I’m sorry man, I know he was a friend, I didn’t really know him but… god.” I heard Toby quietly gag. “From what I understand, he was just smashed. The driver said it was like an explosion, guy’s gonna need some therapy. Um, wedding’s today, are you going to-”

“Hell no.” I felt two seconds from hurling. “I don’t wanna upchuck on the bride and I didn’t really get an official invite. You have a good time.”

I hung up and ran to the toilet to puke my guts up. I swore I was never going to get that drunk again as I crawled back into bed with a bottle of water to sip from.

I woke up again about an hour later to my phone going off. I managed to grab it and answer it on the fourth ring.

“Hello-”

“We fucked up! Holy shit, I think I’m gonna be sick again, oh my god, oh my god-”

I could barely recognize the voice as Derek, he sounded so hysterical. “Slow down, what the fuck happened?” I said as I sat up.

“… Dillan blew up.”

My immediate response was to snicker.

“What are you saying? Did he open his mouth to say I do and blew chunks all over Heather’s face?”

“No, I’m saying that Dillan opened his mouth to say I do and literally fucking exploded.”

I laughed again, although it was forced this time. “Really funny dude. What the fuck are you talking about?”

The next thing I heard was Dillan start to sob. Like, legitly bawl his eyes out. The bad feeling from earlier returned ten fold.

“He’d… he’d been complaining about his tattoo all morning, it was getting itchy, and Toby just said it was healing, so just don’t touch it. Middle of the ceremony, he just opened his mouth before his eyes just bugged out and he grabbed his chest… and that’s all she wrote. It was like someone set off a bomb. Blood and guts just. Everywhere. Heather passed out, Toby took off running and when I went to go find him, it was the same thing. Blood everywhere. Oh my god, we’re going to fucking die. Those bitches put a curse on us or something, we’re all gonna fucking die!”

I looked down at my arm and slowly peeled off the bandage covering my tattoo. It looked innocent enough. Just a few simple black lines.

I heard Derek gasp.

“I… I don’t feel so good, it’s getting really itchy…”

I heard a gurgle before Derek screamed, only to be cut off by a disturbingly wet splatter and the phone dropping to the ground.

I ran to the bathroom to puke again.

I tried calling all the other guys. Only two picked up, Mark and Reece. Mark had been at the wedding and seen the whole damn thing, Reece had been sick in bed like I was and had slept through all the phone calls and texts. We agreed to meet up at Reece’s place.

I sorta knew Mark, we had a single class together when we went to highschool, but I only met Reece last night. I rolled up my sleeve to show off my tattoo, which had yet to itch but every little twitch had me thinking ‘this is it, I’m gonna go kaboom’.

We all sat in Reece’s kitchen while Reece was messing around with something on the counter. Mark legitimately whimpered as he showed off his tattoo on his chest. My blood ran cold when I realized the ink itself was starting to turn crimson. “I think it’s like a timer, the closer to red, the closer to… oh god, we’re so fucked,” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“You’re not going to fucking die,” Reece said, turning around. I yelped as I saw a knife in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, what are we doing with that?” I asked.

“Not we, you two.”

Reece sighed as he pulled down the neck to his turtleneck to show off the damned tattoo. “Listen, if it’s the tattoo making us blow up, then just get rid of the tattoo. I don’t know if I can skin my neck without actually killing myself, but you two stand a chance.” He sat down and continued sharpening the kitchen knife. “I’ll help you first, Parker. You’ll probably scar, but this means you won’t be dead, right?”

I swallowed as I stared at the sharp knife before I shook my head. “Shouldn’t you do Mark first?” I asked.

“I think we still have time, and I’ll feel better if I fuck up on your arm than I would if I accidentally stabbed Mark in the chest.” He gestured for my arm. “Faster we do this, the faster it’s over with. Gimme your arm.”

Jesus Christ, I felt time stop as I slowly offered my arm to this stone faced guy. Reece positioned the knife just above the tattoo before the knife went down.

The worst pain lit up every nerve on my arm and I screamed. Mark had to hold me down as Reece to slice off my skin to stop me from accidentally punching Reece. It was like someone was burning me alive.

I passed out sometime during this and when I woke up, I was surrounded by blood.

Not my blood, both Reece’s and Mark’s. Sometime when I was unconscious, they’d both blown up. It was like someone stuck them in a blender and then splattered them all over the walls. Even their clothes were in tiny little bits.

And to make matters worse, the tattoo isn’t gone. It’s penetrated all the way through my skin to my muscle… maybe even my bone.

I can’t tell how much longer I have, but I’m not going out without a fight. I’m sharpening more knives, I got some vodka out of Reece’s kitchen and I’m prepping myself for what I have to do. I will probably die doing this, but I will definitely die if I don’t do this.

If the tattoo is on my arm, then I guess my arm will just have to go.

#my stories

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vargaslovinghours · 2 years

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Lucky number seven 🎲✨ (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6)

Oh yeah btw there is a considerable amount of Edgar/Scriabin this time around so like - look out for that I guess lol

[MAY9] Thinking about healing plane Edgar had me very excited, big anticipation and looking forward to seeing him hehe ♪

[MAY16] I didn’t plan for it, but Incoming was basically the prototype of trying out minicomics with sketchier panels - it was a good start! You can also see more of the panel differences in the stream itself, Nny’s hair probably being the biggest one haha

[MAY16] Speaking of - since Scriabin’s expression was central to this panel, it’s interesting to me to see the original draft vs. the final version

[MAY18] I ended up with this mini in multiple stages of completion because I was struggling with it which made for some interesting progression-style gifs!

[MAY18] I think this one was definitely the most extreme out of all the panels, just pop! There they are

[JUN8] Shy Lady!Edgar ♥ Too hot out to wear much, but too embarrassed to show off ✨

[JUN8] Lady!Scriabin getting into mischief she shouldn’t and bothering Edgar, the usual. I love writing out keysmashes, there’s something very funny about it to me

[JUN13] Mwah mwah mwah, so many hearts and happies 💕

[JUN14] And Also With You hands ♥ I made myself a little cheat sheet of the order the shackles attached themselves, I wanted to make an injury index as well but couldn’t swing it, maybe next time

[JUN14] A set of Vargas-style eye expressions! Specifically Edgar, or at least his body

[JUN14] A couple of pleading and contrite Edgars; got the image specifically as a spacefiller, it all worked out exactly as planned haha

[JUN29] I wasn’t kidding, I was very 👀✨💕 about his shirt riding up lol

[JUL2] Possibly the best bonewings I’ve drawn so far, I almost wish they were more of the focus haha. Well they are here! Central and important ✨

[JUL17] I still so love how goofy Demon!Scriabin is, casual and light! Doodling him spinning his tail was fun ♪

[JUL2] They still fight like cats and dogs, natural enemies and counterparts. The chains are just an additional directional tool, it’s all in the utilization

[JUL9] The aforementioned sketchy scratchy minicomic project, finally in full swing! The first one had them quietly interested and in agreement ♪

[JUL9] Well, at first anyway haha

[JUL9] They just can’t help themselves ♥

[JUL9] He’s baby your honour

[JUL17] No one likes a peeping tom, Scriabin!

[JUL17] Come run away with me to a convent with only a bunch of other women come onnnnn, we can totally pretend to just be devout about it ♥

[JUL17] What was I watching, I think it was an r/sapphoandherfriend video and there was a statue of two topless ladies kissing in the background of a failed proposal of a gentleman to the lady who owned said statue lol; an extremely cute pose on top of the environmental storytelling haha

[JUL17] More kisses, sleepy, fuzzy, out-of-it kisses

[JUL18] This was meant to be the original shape of Scriabin’s sheer shawl(?) in the digital Drider doodles but I unfortunately combined the layers before I meant to :’) At least I got to draw it here! Spiderweb design 🕸

[JUL18] @lunavos made mention of Scriabin holding onto Edgar with all his spare legs and mentally I was like “Funny you should say that-” haha, I’d only drawn as much maybe a day or so beforehand!

[JUL18] Just rests his entire body weight onto his oh so helpless human victim ♪

[JUL19] Continuing the trend of starting and then just not finishing pose ideas lol, I ended up losing steam because I think I had dialogue in mind? But I didn’t write anything down so I don’t actually remember :’D Floating Scriabin is always fun tho ♪

[JUL25] Not art, but I jumped back into Tomodachi Life for like, five seconds to quickly make an Edgar Mii because it is my mission to make the Vargases in as many character-customizable/life sims as possible. Unfortunately I literally only had one apartment left open so no Scriabin this time around :( Let’s just say this is while he’s still hanging out in Edgar’s head; I have given him at least one speech line to indicate that Edgar’s talking to him in there lol

[JUL29] It doesn’t count as long as you declare it first! I’m quite pleased with Scriabin’s expression in the second panel, cute ♥

[JUL28] Felt very inspired by WASU_ART’s extremely cute paper dolls and made a base ♪ Does it defeat the purpose of a live-action animation tool if I make a vector with a static pose? Hmmm

[JUL30] What you mean you don’t just casually draw softcore at the library using their scrap paper and pens? I made sure I was away from any potentially bothered eyes lol dw

[JUL30] A healing plane Scriabin for a warmup, what a floof <3

[AUG1] Another panel from the scratch project, I’m so amused with how his face turned out lol

[AUG1] Kiss-dip Edgar, it’s a good way to trick him into hugging him/holding onto him for dear life

[AUG1] And, done! What do I win? Even for just a sketch, I’m quite pleased with the depth on his shaded arm haha

[AUG1] I unfortunately had to scrap this one because I wrote down a specific injury and then forgot it when I went to draw, so it’s more like an offshoot of Restful Dreams - the expressions still turned out nice tho so here they are ✨

[AUG1] Scriabin yelling at a very aggressive scribble, I mean Shmee. Poor Todd, trying to play peacekeeper between them ♥

[AUG1] He just completely deflates in water, amazing ✨ It’s always fun to draw soaked-over-the-head stuff, it’s so silly haha

[AUG5] A handsome Edgar in a nice jacket and turtleneck combo - even tho he was drawn in Summer, just gotta give that Autumnal vibe

[AUG5] How many doubles would Edgar realistically need or have? Time to go thrifting for the less obvious necessities!

[AUG5] A brushed and put-together Scriabin taunting Edgar into fluster? He’s just too handsome, right?

[AUG5] A digital Scriabin that I had a lot of fun with the composition of - the string comes from offscreen and cuts him off like a panel but it’s not a panel! Magic ✨

[AUG6] Scriabin has Edgar’s attention taken away from him for two seconds and he gets So Mad about it haha

[AUG6] Cornered and kissed, what a terrible fate 💕

[AUG6] Ladies do be shopping tho. They’re so tall! They must get asked to pull stuff off the top shelves all the time

[AUG6] If ever chocolate was an essential item, it would be now

[AUG7] Don’t pick on Edgar, she doesn’t always think through her statements! Just because that makes it easy to twist her words!

[AUG7] Hugs ♥ Hugs for Edgar ♥ Time for Scriabin cuddles ♥ No hope of escape ♥

[AUG7] Exit, pursued by Scriabin. You can’t hide from him, Edgar!

[AUG7] Now poke me back

[AUG7] Maybe if you stopped being mean to each other you wouldn’t keep being mad at each other? No? Okay cool

[AUG9] An Eros and Apollo-style Scriabin, specifically based on the frame around 0:53 - super fluffy! And oddly sludgy (And definitely not at all inspired by the post that introduced me to this song in the first place, Scriabin could never be described as egoistic! Lol)

[AUG12] A mini I don’t plan to finish, but it’s still cute

[AUG12] Come on, Edgar, you know he’s playing you

[AUG12] So excited ♪

[AUG12] Y’know Edgar, I think that might have been a trick actually

[AUG12] Seeing something he shouldn’t be seeing! You know the verse about plucking out one’s eye if it causes you to sin? Does that mean his main, already blank eyes or...?

[AUG13] I cut the punchline ‘cause it gives away the entire joke, but I do love Edgar’s sleepy indignance and Scriabin’s *scandalized gasp* lol

[AUG13] Out using a library computer perhaps, got a lot of studying to do

[AUG13] “I was way faster when I was a computer!”

[AUG13] Scriabin and Jake discussing stuff that Edgar’s too uncomfortable with ♪ There’s so much to learn!

[AUG15] I really like the composition of this one hehe

[AUG15] I ended up scrapping this pose but her face really did turn out very cute ♥

[AUG15] Lady snuggles ♥ Scriabin’s close to listening to her heart 💕

[AUG20] Was struck with the image of them holding each other’s chibi counterparts - they’re both so round and tiny!

[AUG21] What ended up being a single panel continuation of Outgoing, he’s gotta be in there somewhere!

[AUG22] Ladyverse Biblical Vargases 💕✨ What no I don’t already have a song picked out specifically for them you can’t prove anything

[AUG22] Casually sloppy Lady!Scriabin ✨ An open pose is very cute

[AUG25] Uncomfortable Edgar, inching away so as not to alert the invitation-extender :)

[SEP17] Somebody asking him about his scars just one too many times, can’t believe this was inspired by Spamton of all things lol

[SEP17] If he can smell “sad” you better believe he can smell other things too ♪ I’ve written down Edgar saying “That’s not a smell” more than once, why do I find it so funny lol

[SEP20] Guess what someone was doing right outside our window :)

[SEP20] Confrontation?? No way! But Scriabin knew that haha ♪

So that’s the end of May through September! A few different kinds of styles, digital stuff, longer projects - branching out :0 It’s fun to see :D

#💟#Doodles #Art #Sketchdump #Edgar #Scriabin #Nny #Todd #Shmee #Jake #Blood #Questionably SFW #I'mma just throw that one out there as a blanket tag #Be warned: kissing and some equal opportunity toplessness once again #I mean it's not /all/ that - just a higher volume than usual lol #Also tried something a bit different with putting the date at the beginning #They're all approximations since I only label the date at the start of a page and it can take me upwards of a month to finish the same page #And then sometimes I start multiple pages on the same day! Lol #But I did cross-reference them with my habit tracker so they're at least mostly accurate #Man everyone's here it's gonna make me emotional if I think about it too long ♥ Except Devi poor Devi :0 #Tumblr: The image limit is 30 | Me: So you said 70 right #Give or take a few here and there I did double up a couple of these lol #Good thing too 'cause this was a hassle and a half to compile without breaking - probably went to edit a good 300 times pfft #This one's even longer than the Snake Charmer one and that one was massive! I guess not posting at all has that effect lol #It was fun to make some of the weirder style ones haha ♪ Like the Eros and Apollo one that was fun :D #Now that I think of it since it's a vector I could size it up to wallpaper size if anyone's interested :0 #Have a goopy neon rainbow Scriabin as your desktop today! Lol #But speaking of not posting - the hiatus did what it was intended to and my recharging is in full swing uwu #So until I reread I'll probably be posting pretty sparsely outside of special events :)#Hopefully it doesn't result in another behemoth of a post like this next time tho lol ♪

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