#and under a microscope

[gayregina]

Amadeo by gayregina

Basically the painting scene of 2*04 but make it devil’s minion in the 70s-80s (and generally a little devil’s minion around that time). This is small but enjoy;)

-

He was surprised when he witnessed the apathy settle in. It appeared his boy had grown used to him. No longer afraid, no longer running. Long were the nights he chased after him, looking for the spark that set him apart from the rest, the one that had intrigued Louis into picking him among the norm. And he had found it at last. The restless dark hours of following him around and making him jump at every turn were fun but limiting. The days he would wake the human from his slumber were better. The way he would caress his damp curls, trail his fingers across the soft skin and kiss the lines of his body. His lips that he refused to touch even through the fever of lust that defined most of their nights together. Instead they found his neck and the rich blood flowed into his mouth. The low moan of agreement and his boy’s hands grasping his arms or his back or his hair desperately. The times Armand’s hands wandered lower on the human’s body, pleasuring what ached for him the most. That was strictly the days Daniel refused the high of the drugs, when he chose the vampire’s blood above all else. His demanding lips on his wrist, the blood trailing down his mouth. The desire in his eyes and the little gasp he would let out when he would feel Armand’s breath on his neck. Anticipation and trust being the only words hanging in the air around them, the horrors of their past rendezvous long forgotten. Now he was enamored only by his beauty and his charm and the way he would melt into every embrace they shared. That was what set him apart from everyone else. That was the very reason why at times he couldn’t predict his own words as they were flowing out of his mouth with profound ease.

There was a specific night that felt different even before it had begun. Daniel had promised to follow him wherever he went. They talked and they laughed as their feet were moving in sync through the streets of Paris and Daniel’s fingers even dared to brush against his in the dark corners of the alleys. It was a sober night and Armand had learnt those were the most dangerous. He lead him through the bustling crowds and away where the silence in the familiar museum welcomed them and mocked the vampire for his scheme. Daniel’s eyes were a reflection of curiosity and bewilderment and they fell on the painting as Armand stopped next to it. The boy reached out his hand and his fingers grazed Amadeo’s face gently, no one around them to prevent him. No words of explanation were exchanged because they were never needed between them. Only a surprised chuckle was heard across the room and the young boy just watched, admiring the sight.

“I was seventeen years old then, I think. The only one to ever capture my humanity. My maker was the one that thought of it and brought it to life. I served him with all my heart but not for what he was. I never asked for the dark gift. What good is eternal life if you do not know who you are? When you live so long you forget your origins and the faces of those who once cherished you and protected you and loathed you and betrayed you. There is no longer truth amongst your memories, only biased perceptions of half-forgotten stories that feel so distant as if they were once myths. I would have rather died of the illness that plagued me than endure all that have followed. But my maker couldn’t bear the thought of losing me and so he cursed me.” He looked over to Daniel and he was watching him with restlessness and concentration. Was it empathy he was looking for? Someone to comfort him? He did not know.

“It felt as though I was thrown overboard and I didn’t know how to swim. I struggled and it was endless. The question of whether I could float or inevitably drown was pounding in my nauseous mind. I wished and I prayed that the sea would swallow me whole. But it didn’t hear any of my pleadings and I was washed ashore. A meaningless existence followed, all my potential companion to everything that flourishes at the bottom of the ocean; always out of reach with the treacherous possibility of greatness. Only loneliness remained and it wrecked the rest. My own body felt foreign and the sun was my enemy and my temptation for a long time. I almost surrendered to it until I no longer could. My power was too strong and somehow still useless. I was never capable enough to get rid of all I despised because somehow I was still myself.” Bloody tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I never learnt how to float. I never walked along the sand, Daniel. I am still drowning.” He felt Daniel’s touch on his cheeks, how he wiped away his tears, similar to what had occurred between him and Amadeo a few moments ago. His violet eyes were apologetic and sorrowful and he offered him a bitter smile. He guided him in his arms for the first time and Armamd thought he understood now the safety of a life vest and the calmness it spread in him. And when he pulled him closer and pressed his lips gently against his, Armand felt like a boy again and suddenly he had no regrets and he forgot all about the grief and the pain. And as he hugged Daniel’s waist and brought him closer, he considered that maybe his boy didn’t reach for him despite his demons and his edges but because of them. Through the innocent gaze of Amadeo, the boy smiled at him in agreement.

-

I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Thank you!

[karda]

i miss science class bro. we dont put things under microscopes as much as we should

[forgotmysword]

Doomed from the beginning

Unknown / Marguerite Duras / Blanca Varela / Ramona Ausubel / Anne Carson / Heather Havrilesky / Michael Cunningham / Lisel Mueller / Richard Siken x Dungeon Meshi by Ryoko Kui

[userarmand]

Armand recreating Amadeo in the penthouse

[moxie-girl]

this has to be one of the top 10 robin quotes of all time

she talks about sanji the way people talk about their blorbos

[communist-hatsunemiku]

kirukrono

[abilai]

Fastest Wei Wuxian for his BIRTHDAYYYYYY

[lilybug-02]

highly doubt they would ever meet but I'm curious what The Hunter would write about Dewi

Dewi

A human child, the largest living creature in Hallownest. His skin is soft, but strength lurks behind his stride.

༻━━━━━━━━━━༻✧༺━━━━━━━━━━༺

Legends tell of immense godly creatures who strode through clouds and walked across the plane in times of old. Perhaps such fantastical stories are not as unthinkable as they once were...

....

A strange mountainous creature. Though he seeks the thrill of the hunt, he does not close in for the kill. Us mere bugs seem to be easy prey. To be truly hunted by a creature so vast is a bewitching thought.

༻━━━━━━━━━━༻✧༺━━━━━━━━━━༺

I absolutely love The Hunter, so of course he'd make a visit to see the beast everyone in Hallownest has been whispering about (and when I say everyone I mean like 10 people).

[ilgattopatata]

god god i'm relistening to inquisition banter and it makes so much sense that it's varric to confront solas. solas is so fascinated by varric and varric is exactly the opposite of everything solas stands for. so what if orzammar is dying. dwarves still live. what is happening to the dwarves is exactly what happened to the elves but a hundred times slower and solas can't understand why varric wouldn't want to do anything to stop that. but varric never lived in a world that wasn't always changing.

[puppyeared]

these two are so interesting to me

characters belong to @canisalbus

[sotc]

for my own self indulgence i made a quick gif of lucanis rubbing his fingers together after touching his hot coffee :)

[aro-and-ace-stuff]

I'm aro and autistic which means that I will talk about romance as a very strange and confusing social and psychological phenomenon, and ask allo ppl questions like I'm in a field research, in a normal conversation.

[dollar-store-mothman]

It's the way this was Scott's first death in a hot minute that wasn't by an ally or voluntary. It's the way that Scott spent the entire rest of the session on high alert, constantly hearing whispers of conspiracy, always standing on fences, pushing harder to ally with BAM. It's the way he likes being in control and the second he feels he isn't, he switches into survival mode.

[hikaaa-bi]

i love how much of an ABSOLUTE MESS alice is. you listen to the first episode and think “oh wow a sarcastic and charismatic female character me likey” and then you reach ep 14 and realize that there’s something very deeply wrong with this woman.

[tsuutarr]

The Hero has destroyed the world for you.

The world is in disarray, with only you and the “Hero” remaining. He was never one for many words, so your mind is still reeling from what little he’s told you. The world ended because he is unwilling to let you become a sacrifice. But…

You can hardly agree with his choice, not when so many people have died – when all you can see is ash and ruin.

Perhaps you should’ve expected it – seen the signs of his spiraling mental state. You think back to the first time he had scared you.

With a final swing of his sword, blood spilled out onto the withering grass, painting the ground with a crimson hue. It was a complete bloodbath and you could only tremble as he stood among piles and piles of bodies – bandits that had tried to kill you. 

Silently, he looked at you, eyes empty.

It scared you. 

Yet, slowly, the vitality in his eyes returned as he approached you.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he murmured, gently cupping your cheek. “I’ll protect you.”

At the time, you thought that his response was… understandable. The bandits were aiming for your life, after all. An eye for an eye and all that.

Oh, but how wrong you were.

There were many, many other signs of his declining mental state – all of which you had failed to notice. Or maybe you chose not to notice. So, now, all you can do is stare at him, unsure of what exactly you should be feeling. Just how long has he been this way?

“I’m not sure,” he responds, placing a warm bowl of soup in front of you. Despite the destruction of the world, you find yourself tucked away in a cozy cottage in a pretty forest. You’re not sure how this place escaped ruin, but your mind doesn’t want to think about it. “Maybe I’ve always been this way. Maybe I wasn’t.”

You look at him silently as reaches over to grab your hand, his eyes empty with anything but love.

“But it doesn’t really matter now, does it?” he squeezes your hand, “I have you now, after all.”

[sadanduncertain]

If what we are reading on Astarion's grave is correct, and he was only 39 years old when he died, that adds an entire new level of tragedy to his character. Not only was he extremely young and emotionally immature by elven standards, but he had barely even lived before he died. It's no wonder that he doesn't remember anything about his past when we ask him about it — 39 years is a small drop of water in comparison to 200 years of abuse. There is simply nothing to remember.