#veilder

[kishavo]

Perchance, may I get 📆 and 👿 for the artist ask game?

(📆first fandom you drew for)

oh god, probably…Inuyasha? manga and anime are what got me started teaching myself to draw

(👿 least favorite character to draw)

connor 😭 bryan dechart’s bone structure is a bitch to get right and connor doesn’t have any wrinkles or facial hair to hide my mistakes. unfortunately he’s my favorite guy so if i stop drawing him i’ll die

[mothric]

You can never escape your past. A reminder:

a person in a white lab coat hands me this along with two cards reading "horse" and "pony" and stands back with a clipboard as i start to sweat and shake

[faestorian]

Happy birthday!! As is tradition… 😌

https://youtu.be/NT3zp2vYMvo?si=gIVAhlDrQi-w0uDj

https://youtu.be/_V4JGACBWRM?si=JctCpEr6Mo6QBH7H

https://youtu.be/tMcAlCfnYds?si=nKuZ4K326Rv7ytLp

I am a very forgetful little fella... and I might or might not be posting this almost EXACTLY A MONTH LATER ough...

Thank you still Veil, I appreciate you ❤

[valeffelees]

For the fanfic writer ask game! ^_^

🎁 🌻 💌

ugh, thank you so much, you're such a top-shelf mutual. 😭💞 my girl went to work a little bit ago and i am so bored without her around, life is a void.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

oh for sure, i'd love to!

i haven't worked on a D:BH fanfic in a couple months 'cause i've been in simon snow purgatory, it is all vampires and wizards and dragon boys in my brain these days, but i do (!!!) plan on finishing my convin Titanic AU, so i'll share a snippet of that (that i hope i haven't already shared with you before lmao), plus, since i mention unrequited love diseases in one of my other answers here, i'm also gonna add a snippet from one of my back-burner simon snow drafts.

both are below the cut (i lied about the cut, Tumblr won't let me add one) (i tried like four times, this app is so rude) at the end! 😄

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

oh, very often. the thing about me and my fanfics is that, while i don't post things much at all, i am always writing. i have sooo many first drafts lying around that'll probably never be seen by anyone but myself, some of them are even written longhand in physical journals.

for a long time, i've written with myself as my only intended audience. and i mean, most of the time i'm still my only audience, i have a very nervous personality and sharing things makes my brain itch a bit. (but y'kno, i am working on that.) (i've been doing six sentence sundays and wip wednesdays with the simon snow fandom the last two weeks and that's been a delight.) (a terrifying delight, but still a delight.) so yeah, i actually sit around and like… read my own fanfics for fun all the time, over and over again. i'm extremely fond of my own stories.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

unrequited love diseases.

and i don't just mean hanahaki disease, although i do love writing hanahaki fanfics, i'm also really fond of star tears disease and forgotten love syndrome (and anything else in that general sphere).

i'm not working on it actively at the moment because i'm focused on a different story right now, but i actually have a draft in my gdocu for a simon snow fanfic about a fatal unrequited love disease i created myself called marigold's heart syndrome. i dunno what it is about love diseases that makes my silly brain light up like a string of fairy lights, but i find them so overwhelmingly tragic.

(if anyone else feels like hanging out, questions are here!)

— CONVIN

Connor doesn’t let himself wonder if his own mother ever looked at him that way. If she ever smiled at him warmly, touched his cheeks like he was precious and irreplaceable, combed the curls back from his forehead while he slept. Things he should remember, but doesn’t. He focuses instead on the slender line of the woman’s brow, the owlish shape of her eyes, the slope of her mouth as she smiles, and drags his charcoal across the page. Trying to capture it. A wet thumb rubs at his chin. Connor cringes away without looking up from his work. “Silas.” “You got that black shit on your face,” Silas says. He leans forward to peer curiously at Connor’s sketchpad. The shadow of his dark curls, identical to Connor’s own in every way but the direction he parts them, falls across the top half of the page. “Dunno why you waste your time with that, Connie. S’not like you make any money from it.” “It’s called a hobby. Some people actually have those. You should...” Connor looks up, “... should... try it.”  His fingers hold weakly to his charcoal. His pulse beats strongly up his throat. All at once, the world becomes soft and muted around him. Distant. Like he’s been plunged underwater. Near the edge of the veranda, drenched by the strawberry sunlight, a man leans over the rails. Weight on his elbows, his forearms extended out and relaxed above the drop down to the lower deck. A cigarette hangs from between his teeth with a thin ribbon of white smoke twirling from the tip. He looks sad, Connor thinks. Lonely, and terribly beautiful. Light-eyed, olive-skinned. Long and lean and frayed at the edges like a sheet of weathered parchment paper. His waistcoat is unbuttoned and hanging open around his hips, while the rest of the first class maunders behind him like an expensive quatrefoil fog. “Connor!” Connor blinks, and the world comes tumbling back into focus. He looks down at his sketchpad, at the single dark, distracted line marring the outline of what should’ve been the little brown-haired girl, then back up at his brother. “What?” Silas cocks an eyebrow at him, knowing and unimpressed. “Don’t even think about it.” “I won’t. I mean, I wasn’t.” Connor sets his charcoal aside, turning to unfurl his pencil case. A soft, battered green cloth one with seven leather loops stitched along the inside, each of them sized to hold a different one of his tools. He pries his old, sticky eraser out of it. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, then sets to work trying to salvage his sketch.

— SIMON SNOW

September ends. October passes. November begins. A few things happen in between: One, Simon meets Natasha Grimm-Pitch. Or, well—he meets her ghost. And she’s terrifying. Even in death, she is a woman who commands attention and, for all her immovable melancholy, she holds with her an air of intense regency. He could feel her magic in the room with them, and it was white-hot and ancient. Like something from the very core of the Earth. Two, Baz comes back, and Simon promptly forgets why he’d ever given half a shit about the toff prat being gone in the first place. They’ve worked out something of a truce with each other, (it would’ve been nice if Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s visit had only been a courtesy call, but of course things can never be that simple, so now Simon has gone and roped himself into solving her apparent murder,) but suppose that truce must not extend to Baz cutting back on being a right shit about everything because his mood is fouler than ever and, for once, Simon really doesn’t have the energy to deal with their whole bloody song and dance thing they do. Because he’s still sick. Because three, somewhere in the middle of scouring the Catacombs and razing the Wavering Wood and his sworn enemy’s dead mother appearing in his bedroom, Simon started coughing up flower petals. Baz likes to tell Simon he’s an idiot. And sometimes Simon believes him, but most of the time he doesn’t—because he’s not an idiot. (Also because Baz is a fucking twit.) He knows what the petals mean. He’s seen flower spitting disease before.

[harmonytre]

Hi hi hi! So, I saw your fanart request post and--! Listen, I think I'm one of maybe like three people in the whole fandom who is absolutely die-hard for North60, but I love them so so much? I realize it's like a mega rarepair but they are so important to me and I (obviously) never see artwork for them. Of course, you don't have to if they're not your thing, I get it and would be delighted if you drew some Anderfam instead. But I thought I'd shoot my shot here and see if you might be down for drawing my beloved violence couple. XD Thank you! ~Veil

Sorry but, I'm not accepting dbh requests anymore. I don't plan on drawing them anymore in the future.

(I will say North60 was a cool ship while I was still in the fandom. And you're still one of the coolest people I knew while I was. I wish you all the luck to find others who love the ship. <3)

[indigo-a-creeping]

You are bones, space and fren shaped to me. 😌

[mothric]

@veilder

[frankedz]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

Awwww Veil, thank you so much this really made my day!!

[thirium-drinker]

OK so @veilder put so many thoughts in my head about RK900 still being an "imperfect" model bc Amanda probably rushed his production and I am going bonkers thinking about how he'd have certain quirks that can rival even CONNOR'S

Like yeah his systems are much more advanced, he's faster and stronger than Connor BUT did you know his balance center is just slightly shifted to the left? Or (from that one post of mine) his skin retracts when he's stressed? so many thoughts I love imperfect Nines now

[mothric]

looks like I got diagnosed with antihero.

tagging @an-assortment-of-forks @itsallwearecalledtodo and @thunderstruck-amanita

MAKING A TAG GAME BECAUSE WHY NOT

I FOUND THIS CUTE LAST WORDS GENERATOR HEHE

oh wow lmao bring larry to my grave please welp

TAGGING WITH LUV BUT NO PRESSURE: @surrowndedbylights @niallermybabe @ravenclawdirectioner @skeelly @a-portal-to-nowhere @annamiasworld @waitingforthesunrise @heartstopperlarrie @keeganisabluegreener @stvrlighhttt @urbanflorals @just-sarah-xx @a-beautiful-fool @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @fillthedarkvoid @holychaoticdevil28 @tiredflowercrown @enchantedlandcoffee and @definitely-not-a-plant @eddiethebanished @srldesigns6277 @idontwanttobeabuzzkill @holes-in-my-false-confidence and @conjectureand-gloom anyone else who wants to join 💕

[mothric]

yay!

YAYYY :D

why do you hate me

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

Aight fellas i'm subjecting you all to my current au brainrot.

Superman/DC au

Connor is OG Superman and arrives on earth after the destruction of Krypton. His ship almost crashes into a police lieutenant's car as he and his 6-year old son are driving back home during an October night.

Hank Anderson never expected to be responsible for an alien toddler, and Cole never expected to suddenly be a big brother to an extraterrestrial. But Cole ain't complaining about it and Connor is just a kid who'll probably be put in a lot of danger on his own. And now Cole's looking at Hank with the puppy dog look that always seems to melt his heart. So who is he to say no?

So Connor grows up in the Anderson household, learning to hide his abilities while also trying to understand them. He doesn't know where he came from or why he's like this, and he spends his whole life believing he is the only one.

He has no interest in doing anything more with his time on Earth other than trying to live a normal human life (full of fear) and in the shadows. That is until one day he and Cole get into a car accident. If it wasn't for Connor's invulnerability, Cole would've died. And it's while they're at the hospital, getting Cole checked out and waiting on their dad to come get them, that Connor realizes that there are others in this world who aren't so lucky. He can't imagine what would've happened if he was never there to save his brother. And he knows that if he had never been sent to this planet, then Cole would be dead.

It's a thought jarring enough for him to decide that he can't live the rest of his life like this. He has to do something.

So.. he becomes a vigilante.

I have more thoughts on how Nines and Sixty are incorporated into this, and i have SO MANY thoughts on Connor growing up with Cole as an older brother and Dad!Hank!! I'll definitely be adding onto this ;)

also here's the goddamn photo that started this au idea below the cut:

[madaims]

Was smiling like an idiot today on the bus, when I read that @veilder had posted that I reminded them of Vash in that “Which Trigun character the person you reblogged this from is most like” poll.

Aww thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Still smiling like an idiot now 😊

[mothric]

oh excellent @veilder thank you! I'll just turn that into a fun little click-through link.

It’s December 31, @staff where is our personalized year in review ?

[keltii-tea]

Having a horse girl moment 🤠🐎

Big thanks to my buddy @veilder, who proposed a fairy tale horse au that has been plaguing my mind for weeks.

[polutrope]

WiP Word Game

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

Tagged by @queerofthedagger, thank you! It's been a while since WiP game came around and I'm pleased to say I am working on a WiP.

The word is HOME. Spoilers for And Love Grew.

H

"He had a dreadfully coarse sense of humour, at which you could not help but laugh though you knew you should not. He had many gardens, meticulously maintained. He kept falcons. He loved those birds more than any other, even his wife. He delighted in swimming, no matter how cold the water — and Helevorn was always cold. He hated nothing more than injustice and disloyalty.”

O

Only now that they were leaving in truth, it all bubbled out of him. “But why?” Elrond did not like how small his voice sounded. “We can stay with Nennel and Nelpen. And Orfion. Why can Orfion stay and we cannot?” Maglor’s face pinched, that way adults looked when they did not know what to say to children. Did he think Elrond would not notice that Orfion was not with them?

M

"Maglor is somewhere in these woods.” The others exchanged doubtful glances. “What?” Dornil snapped. “Do you intend to carry a message back to his brother that you lost him? That you abandoned him to die in the forest?” “My lady,” Elas said, “the best course of action for Lord Maglor is to seek help at Amon Ereb.” “No. I have lost everyone, Elas. We will not lose him.”

E

Elrond shook his head, loosing a fat tear that dripped onto the floor. None of it made any sense. Maglor had brought them into danger, hadn’t he? Elrond’s memories tossed about like the stormy seas around Cape Balar, where Father used to take them to watch the waves crashing. Where Mama had abandoned them. No, she would never abandon them. But she was gone, because there was an elf who chased her. Elrond could not remember why. Then they had fled to a closed space, and Elros had shouted and shouted and hurt himself. Elrond could not remember how they had come to be with Maglor.

Please feel welcome to play @vefanyar @veilder @amorbidcorvid @balrogballs @idleleaves @leucisticpuffin @tobermoriansass. Your word is CAT 😄.