#nonsensical guide on bookbinding

[theskeletonprior]

Time for a fresh new introduction! I have exactly one banner which I repeatedly alter to suit my needs, so please enjoy it. I've really stepped into this modern era.

I have many names, but here, you can call me Harrowben.

30's. They/them and he/hymn. Biracial. Nonbinary transgender. Polyamorous. Skeleton. BA English Language and Literature. Professional Dungeon Master. Probably not but possibly two-time Academy Award Winner Guillermo del Toro. (I wrote a text post that got remarkably out of hand one time.)

Formerly a bookseller, I now work as a professional Dungeon Master with a local theatre company to make a living. I’m also (slowly) learning to bind books. Sometimes, I even try to write them. Occasionally, when the mood takes me, I also write fanfiction. I like to make digital layouts for books, and of course I love to read! Books are my whole life. I'm a trained editor, and like most everyone these days, I am for hire. Feel free to inquire if you're looking for some fiction. Words are what I do. Catch me ramblings about original work and characters, skeletons (of course!), bookbinding, and book arts, spooky nonsense, nature being its beautiful terrible self, monsters and the people who love them, that sort of thing. I do reblog fandom things from time to time, chiefly when the aesthetic vibes well with mine, or when the brainrot becomes too severe to contain.

If you need anything tagged, feel free to reach out, anon or otherwise. It’s important to me that my blog is as safe and comfy as it can be.

BIGOTED SHIT. I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH YOU SHOULD FUCK OFF IF YOU'RE A FASCIST PIECE OF SHIT. This was initially a placeholder so I would remember what I wanted to make so abundantly clear, but I stand by it. TERFs and Nazi Punks fuck off. Zionist assholes can also kick rocks. There's no place for you with me. Better yourself and stop being soulless fucking shit-lickers.

The Bishop of Black

Honestly, my pride and joy. The Bishop of Black is an ongoing and deeply queer high-fantasy light novel that I'm writing together with my husband @alexanderflowerbird who does all of the incredible art.

In a nation torn by a war that has been waged for centuries, tensions run high as the Kingdoms of Black and White seem to be on the verge of a lasting peace after generations of strife and bloodshed. Femi, a medic in the Kingdom of Black, is swept up into the dangerous politics of the court after a horrible tragedy returns them to the brink of war.

Check out our reading guide, if you like.

RAVENOT

My most developed WIP. A dark fantasy novel about a skeleton knight who ventures into places where the living can never go, to safeguard the balance between life and death.

You can read the first chapter for free here!

AO3 | Ko-fi | Bluesky | Patreon (coming... when it gets here)

[twisted-tales-told]

Hey, how much paper have you used so far in binding Choices. To the point you've reached. I want to see if I can afford it.

THIS WILL BE AN OVERALL GUIDE TO CHEAP BOOKBINDING

I don't know where you live, but in Canada...the paper is by far the cheapest part.

For the record,

Book one is around 620 pages

Book two is around 800

Book 3 is (so far) 680

BUT divide all those numbers in half and that's how many pieces of paper you'll be using. (Nobody better come at me for paper consumption. Walk into a chapters, you already hold no credibility)

I use a Canadian based eco recycled brand and I buy in bulk (it's like 10 bucks & free shipping for 4 things of that and each thing is 500 pages and will last you at least 3 or 4 rounds of choices itself)

In my experience, the expenses are Ink and Glue.

Ink. I am very lucky and have access to Costco through my dad's membership (I ask for his card, he rolls his eyes and gestures vaugely it's wonderful) I have very very good ink cartridges. One set of them will last me at least all 3 books. It's for an HP office Jet printer. I have this printer because I stole it from my parents when they retired.

Glue. You can use craft glue? Like you genuinely can, but it'll frustrate the living hell out of you. If you can afford PH neutral PVA glue go for it, if you can't any old glue will indeed work. BUT make a book press (further down)

Other Supplies and how to go about prices:

Davey Board. By far the most frustrating thing to find. I rarely turn to Amazon and I had to for this.

Invest. In. A. Circle. Needle. They are probably one dollar more than straight needles and in the grand scheme of things So So worth it.

Fuck bookcloth. It is a stupid capitalist myth that you need it. Go to Fabric Lands discount section and make sure it's not too stretchy. I bought enough cover material to last me a year for 30 bucks Canadian and they're pretty

String. 100% Nylon, Walmart maybe 3 dollars and it'll last you at least all 3 copies. DONT USE COTTON YOULL HATE YOURSELF FOR IT. It'll break and you'll have to start over 300 pages in.

Make a book press. There's a great tutorial on YouTube and all it takes are 4 big screw things, 4 wing nuts, and 2 cutting boards. If you are using Regular glue make sure you have something separating pages and stuff, and while the cover is drying put it in there. It'll warp less

Specialty things:

You don't need a bone folder, I have one but I only use it for folding pages which the book press does anyways. I still find them helpful just because I get really really bad brain fog, so the bone folder helps me make sure the pages are straight

Fuck using one of those saw things. Get 2 smol but extendable clamps for 3 dollars and draw your punch holes on, and if you want, use an exacto knife, I'm impatient, I don't. I wing it from there signature by signature.

Headbands. They're cheap but you can make them with a piece of twine and tissue paper. Even a cloth ribbon will do. It's really fucking tempting to skip this step. Do not. It's how I fucked up Manacled. There's no coming back from that.

Bookbinding can be expensive, but it's kinda like traveling in that way. You can find cheap tools & paper the same way you can find cheap food and accommodation.

But Printer Ink? Glue? Those shits are like the price of the airplane.

[qqueenofhades]

37. Shadow of Night, Darklina? <3

37. Shadow of Night

The Upper Reading Room of the Bodleian Library is filled with wan British sunlight, the patrons cough, shuffle papers, click laptop keys, and occasionally doze off on their notebooks, and Alina removes the manuscript carefully from its battered cardboard box, settling it on the foam supports. The box looks like any other in the Bod's vast archives. The gilt-stamped call number on the lid reads Elias Ashmole Collection, No. 782. Bodleian Library, OXFORD.

Automatically, Alina starts her assessment, opening up a new Word document and beginning to type. (It might be cooler if she was doing it with a blood-red quill on ancient parchment, but this is the twenty-first century, and nobody has time for that nonsense.) The codex is surprisingly large, which is an obvious sign of wealth on the part of its maker. The age-browned vellum is still mostly intact, though there's a place at the start where at least three folios have been sliced out with a straight-razor blade. Alina bristles at this literary desecration, resisting the temptation to touch it and find out more. Once she was a witch, if not a very good one. Now she's just a hassled early-career art historian, and she has heard that this is a particularly fine (and crucially for her purposes, under-studied) example of sixteenth-century alchemical illuminations. Her visiting research fellowship at Oxford is only a year, and she wants to go back to Yale with results.

Alina works steadily, making note of the binding style of the quires, the fine gesso layered on the splendid paintings, the places where the text looks as if it has been rubbed off and replaced. She desperately tries to ignore the growing tingle in her fingers, the creeping sense of the illusory and unreal, the unknown and static strange. Ashmole 782 is positively dripping with magic, and this is definitely not something she knew before. Otherwise, she wouldn't have called it up. She has always had an uneasy relationship with her power, and this --

It's then when Alina turns to the huge full-page spread at the center of the book, a magnificent and sprawling illumination that must have taken months for the Renaissance bookbinder to complete. Her heart skips a beat. It's done in traditional alchemical style: two halves meeting to transmogrify a substance into something else, the red king and white queen, sun and shadow. Except the queen is holding a globe of brilliant fire between her hands, blazing like the sun, and the king stands in shadow, beneath a sweeping dark sky studded with stars. He is dark and grave and handsome. Alina would keep looking at him for a while -- except for the fact that the queen has her face.

Rattled, she shuts the codex with a bit of a bang, causing a wave of disapproving looks and hisses to cascade around the reading room. Then she gets up, grabs her things, and returns the manuscript to the check-in desk, swinging her bag to her shoulder. She hurries down the steps and out into the courtyard -- just in time to clip shoulders with someone coming the other way. They reel apart with mutual apologies, and he says, "I am very sorry, Dr. Starkova."

"That's all right, I should have -- " All of a sudden, she stops. "I'm sorry. Have we met before?"

He smiles down at her enigmatically. Just like the king in Ashmole 782, he too is dark, grave, and handsome (not to mention tall), with a look on his face as if he knows something she doesn't. "Have we?"

That, of course, is not an answer. Alina tries to sidle around him, but he is very good at blocking her path. She feels a particular coldness on her skin like the breath of winter, and all at once, she wants nothing more than to be away from him. Witches do not fraternize with vampires in any sense of the word; it's been Covenant law since as long as anyone can remember. But perhaps someone failed to inform this vampire of that one tiny little fact, because he holds out a business card. "I'm interested in your research. Can we speak later, perhaps?"

Alina doesn't want to, but that old good-girl instinct takes over, and she accepts it so as not to be rude. She takes a quick glance, just because she can't help herself. Professor Alexander Morozov. All Souls College, Department of Biochemistry.

Professor? All Souls? Really? At his age? Then again, outward appearance is no guide to a vampire's true antiquity, and Alina edges backward, feeling that this day has been quite strange enough. "I have to go," she says, as firmly as possible. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Dr. Starkova," he says graciously, as if she has anything to thank him for. He keeps looking at her. His eyes are as black as night themselves. He stands so still the air moves around him.

Alina turns and practically flees.

[spooky season fic prompts]

[riorsonxaden]

Nesta groaned lacing her fingers together, stretching upwards with a restful sigh. Turning and twisting in her midnight blue comforter. Her face and mess of dark auburn tresses buried into her plush pillow. Reaching out for her husband's body. Though it wouldn’t surprise her if it was one of their toddlers instead. Still, they would receive the same touch. An arm curling around the middle and a swift peck on the check. The only difference would be how she said good morning. To their toddlers, it would be motherly full of warmth and affection. She’d run her fingers through their thick dark locks, cupping their little rosy cheeks. Until Cassian grabbed them, tickling the two and chasing them out of the bedroom. To Cassian, it would be a good morning prick which would entice him to flip her on her back. Murmuring some damned nonsense of how she loved his prick and he would show her. Or it would be her peppering kisses from his tousled hair down to the nape of his neck. He’d turn to her in a sleepy daze capturing her lips in a morning greeting.

This morning when she reached out there was nothing. No one. Not even the warmth of a body. Just a cold spot of silken sheets. She jumped up startled blue-grey eyes scanning the room for any of them. The only one in the room was her.

“Cassian?” Nesta knew it was ridiculous to call his name in a still room. If he was in the master bath she’d hear him. Loudly too. Always singing off-key or just generally making noise. No matter the time of day he seemed to hold a habit of slamming doors and cabinets, “Aidan? Audrey?” she called for their twins on the off chance they were once again hiding in the walk-in closet or under the bed. No giggles, singing, or cabinet slamming. Only silence.

Pulling the covers off, her bare feet touching the cool cherrywood flooring. Resting a hand over her three-month swollen belly as she walked towards the small black chaise next to the window. People thought they were crazy for having another while the twins were only four. They couldn’t help it and they only needed justification for themselves. Cassian and Nesta always wanted a big family. For Cassian growing up, it was only him and his mother. Things were always lonely and tight. For Nesta, it was troubling. Her mother left them with her father never bothering to contact them again. Her father did nothing but drink his days. She believed if she did nothing that he would eventually get his act together. He didn’t. He never did. Eventually, his sister took in the three girls. Elain and Feyre they loved and adored. Nesta was always pushed aside. Too much like her mother they would say. It took years later for some Illyrian idiot with a man bun crashing into her while leaving a creative writing class to melt the ice around her heart. But he did and with him, she wanted that chance. To fill her house with the laughter and love she never had. Things weren’t always easy for them, but their love and devotion to each other ran deep. Now with her successful career as a writer and his as a gym trainer with his equally successful lines of workout supplements, they had the means for that family and more.

Nesta pulled the sheer curtains apart looking down for any sight of her husband running with the kids. One twin up on his shoulders while Cassian chased the other. Possibly with him pinned to the ground and the two climbing on top of him. It didn’t matter, it was only eight in the morning. If Cassian had it his way. He would drag his wife and the kids outside the second the sun rose. They weren’t outside either. There was only one other place they could be. Nesta grabbed her charcoal robe, slipping into the sleeves and tying it loosely over her striped nightgown. She picked up a hair tie next to the cell, tying her hair in a bun while heading to the door. As she turned the knob, Nesta heard whispers through the doors and realized she should’ve checked the house first. Twisting the doorknob in her hand, silently she pulled it open.

“Daddy. What is book brinding?”

She heard Audrey ask, her shoulder-length hair still mused from sleep, thick and dark like her fathers. They all had their backs to her sitting at the dining table. Audrey on the left, Cassian in the center, and finally quiet little Aidan on the right. Nesta heard Cassian laugh at the innocent question. Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned against the door frame listening to the conversation.

“Bookbinding sweetheart. See it keeps the book together like this.”

“Oooh.”

“Will mommy like it?”

“Course she will, buddy. You and your sister made it.”

“You made it too!” the twins shouted in unison. Cassian shushed them both, “Oh right,” they’re voices lowered, “You made it too,” they repeated.

“Not really. I helped with the writing and tied it. The idea, the drawings, and the pictures you chose. That’s you guys. Daddy has something else planned. She’ll like it.”

“What is it?" Audrey asked. A childlike curiosity in her voice.

"Is it your prick?" Aidan questioned. Nesta stifled a laugh watching her husband's back straighten as he froze in his movements, "You always say she likes that."

"How many conversations do you kids listen to?"

"Oh. Lots," they spoke together.

"Yeah, let's not do that. Some conversations are for mommy and daddy only."

"But what is a prick? And why does mommy like yours so much?"

It was Audrey this time who asked. Nesta didn't have to see his face to know his tanned skin was draining and turning ghost white. By her guess, it was happening quickly. Cassian was good at many things, but awkward talks with almost five-year-olds were not one of those things. Pushing off the frame, she decided to make her presence known to the three most important people in her life.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her brows arched walking towards the dining table.

All three turned around at the same time. Looking like deers in headlights. The twins gasped, throwing their small hands over a squared object on the onyx table. Both of them fussing over who was louder and caused her to wake. Saying things like mommy needs sleep for the baby. The baby won't grow if you wake her up. Cassian hushed them both, pushing the chair out to go and greet his beloved. The twins followed suit.

Although Aidan and Audrey were twins. Their looks weren't similar except for their olive-toned skin. It seemed to be a mix of Cassian and Nesta. Aidan was a spitting image of his mother. Hair a deep golden hue like her and his eyes a marbled blend of grey and blue. Like a storm on the sea. His small child features were already strong like hers, both mother and son having sharp noses. He had his father's courageous and outspoken personality, but Nesta's love of reading. Aidan held an imagination that outweighed even his sisters of magic, fairytales, and dragons. He was still dressed in his pj's. A cheesy little blue and red set that read Mommy's little super hero on the front.

Audrey, on the other hand, looked at that of her father. Hair black as night and down to her shoulders. She liked it that way with bangs. It was like Cassian and auntie Amren. Her eyes were a bright amber with flecks of green throughout. Like sunbeams breaking through rich green leaves in a forest. Lips pouty and plush like him. She too loved reading, not as much as Aidan though. Audrey had a knack for adventure. Wanting to be the princess and yet wield a blade. She had her father's free spirit and her mother's stubbornness. Audrey stood there in her white and pink polka-dotted nightgown. A heart in the center with, Mommy's sweetheart embroidered. Standing close to Cassian. A daddy's girl through and through.

Cassian who stood there in the same wardrobe as the kids. A black shirt with black and red plaid bottoms. Grinning ear to ear at her, running his hair through his thick, wavy locks. He glanced at the kids to his sides, "Why don't you get the present?" they both nodded giggling. He stepped to Nesta, hand resting on her belly, kissing her sweetly, "Happy Mothers Day Nes."

"Thank you," giving him a chaste kiss, "What are you up to? Besides gifting your prick to me."

"Only gifting if it if you want it, sweetheart. I was thinking Amren and Valerian could watch the kids. Which I already asked. They said yes. We can go for brunch, get you one of those prenatal massages you like so much.."

She hummed, curling her arms around his waist. Resting her head against his chest. Cassian ran his fingers down her spine, "What if I want it?" She crooned.

"Insatiable woman," he teased, smirking at her.

"Let's call it a pregnancy craving."

He chuckled kissing the top of her head," Whatever you say. The kids have been working on this for a week by the way."

Aidan and Audrey returned shouting to Nesta to shut her eyes. She did as requested. Cassian guided her to the couch. The twins sat next to her and Cassian sat on the edge. Nesta felt a weight in her lap.

"Happy Mothers day!" they shouted in unison. Nesta flicked her eyes open to look at the item. She gasped. Her heart full looking at her gift. A book. They made her a book. Nesta Archeron wasn't someone who cried. So far in her life, she cried three times. When Cassian proposed, when they married, and when the twins were born. Now she supposed it was time for another. She could feel her eyes brimming with wetness. Overcome with emotion.

The cover was a drawing of what she guessed was Aidan and Audrey. It was a titled Why we Love Mommy. Nesta assumed the title was Cassian. It was too forward for a child. The sides of the book were laced together in a red ribbon. She opened the first page. It was a drawing of her and Cassian while she was pregnant. If the drawing didn’t give it away the sentence stating it would have. Some pages had photos of the four of them or Just Nesta and the kids. Most page was filled with inaccurate drawings and little stick figures. She loved it anyway. The bodies of themselves and then the twins when they showed in the book were far from proportionate. On one page Nesta's legs were as long as the drawn Cassian next to her. Sometimes the twins were taller than their parents. Her favorites were the ones of Cassian with circles as muscles playing his guitar while Nesta sat on the floor. Drawn with a long-armed Aidan and a book bigger than her head. The pages had simple sentences like: We love mommy for giving us a home in her tummy, We love when daddy plays music and Mommy reads to us, We love mommy’s pancakes. She didn't even realize tears were falling when she read the last page. There was a heart messily drawn and at the bottom, it read, We love mommy cause she’s pretty and strong, and she loves daddy and us bigger than space and dragons. It was a sentence only two four-year-olds could muster. It touched her in a way she couldn’t fathom. Her touchy pregnancy hormones had gotten the best of her. By now her tears were streaming down her face. Not from sadness, but affection.

"Nes?" he questioned handing her a tissue. She took it, nodding her thanks, dabbing at her tears.

"Do you like it, mommy?" The twins asked. She wrapped her arms around her babies. Planting a loving kiss on their heads. They hugged back as tightly as their little arms could.

"Yes. I love it very much. It's my favorite book," she shared a look with Cassian, her lips trembling but her smile wide. He reached out to squeeze her hand.

*******************************************************************************

a/n: This is actually part of series called: Mother’s Day in Velaris. Which atm has two parts. Nessian and Elriel (Which I’ll repost tonight). I still need to do Feysand and it will be complete.

Over the next week or so I am transferring my fics to tumblr. I kinda prefer the tumblr platform and I am on here more than ao3. So some of the fics I will be posting, yes you may have seen before, like this one.

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