tried-something-different-for-this-one~~

it’s Istus from The Adventure Zone! tried doing something different with this one. it’s a bit…Much, but it was fun so whatevs, anyways, I’ve learnt and forgotten how to knit like 4 times and all I know that this is Not how knitting works.

twitter (wips, etc.)

you’re going to be amazing!  ❤

Dessert ?
#pascalcampion


First sketch in a week( I was out of town for a while).. I tried something different on this one. I didn’t paint any of the light.. I just played with the exposure of all the different areas that are lit. It might not look all that different to you but it’s a lot of fun to try something different!!
#pascalcampion

Beneath the Surface - Request

Requested by anon:  hello can you do a sherlock x reader angst based on the song beneath the surface by dream theatre thank you ♡

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 1,440

Warnings: Angsty.

A/N: I tried to write something different with this one. I hope you like it. ;)
Also, this is set between season 3 and season 4 (you know when Mycroft wants to send Sherlock away…)
*Tags under the cut.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by ofallingstar

“My dear lover (Y/N),

I must ask you a question, as it is the only way I can get rid of this sentiment invading my brilliant mind. A question, perhaps, too ridiculous to come from a man like me, yet important to kept my sanity. Please, forgive me if I cause trouble, but you know I must focus solely on what matters; my job, which is the only thing that fulfils me, or so I thought. I’m spoiling the point, forgive me. I will ask you the question now – it is a great time to stop reading – and please promise me you will never repeat it out loud, and you will never talk about it –or this letter, for that matter – with anyone. I don’t know what will be of me after such thing. The paragraph is too big, I fear, I will write the question on the next one, as a starter, like an elegant letter. I’m sorry for this introduction, I can’t put my mind on order and you will see why very soon. I really hope you understand that that is the reason why my usually clear calligraphy has turned into a mess, or why I can’t make myself write a drabble and then type a proper version that is perfectly understandable.

Is there ever a right time? You had led me to believe you’d be there for me. Perhaps when the star aligned, when you weren’t so consumed. I looked for clues, for it is all I know how to do, and yet I found none. John told me to be patient, and so I waited in the shadows, looking for the minimal cue that showed me the time was right – but it never happened.

It was then when I stopped caring, and God knows I am utterly regretful at that choice. I forgot the reason why I longed to be so close to you, and faded – disappeared – into the darkness, the same darkness in which I had hidden my feelings until the proper time arrived. Said darkness turned into pain, a pain that I had never felt before, and I’m afraid it never went away. It hurts, my love, and it will continue to hurt forevermore.

I wore my feelings, I never hid them until John suggested to. I craved for the moment when you realized that my love for you was new to me, and so I couldn’t quite confess with words what I felt with my soul. Words are never enough to such things, you’ll see, no matter how strong they are only actions can interpret the feelings of the heart.

Am I being too poetic? I’m afraid so, but then again, I don’t feel like myself. That is why I’m writing to you this letter. I must expel everything out, as it is the only way I can rest in peace each night, without you invading my mind.

Where was I? Oh yes, I wore my feelings but after I stopped caring, I hid them; I buried all of the remains deep beneath the surface. <- That is quite a catchy phrase, should I write it more often?

I’m deeply sorry for not knowing the truth; for believing I was the only one suffering in silence. If I had deduced it in time… But love blinds us all, and I couldn’t imagine a human like you in love with a monster like me. I now blame that as the reason why the right time never came; it was always there, but we were too blind and scared.

I appreciate your effort trying to protect my fragile frame. You couldn’t risk it, could you? If you had, maybe I would go mad – but dear, my dearest (Y/N), I am already mad.

How was your search? The search for words, the rehearsals of what you’d do when the moment came… I know mine was tedious, and more than once I thought of quitting and confessing my love at any time without any hesitation. But I couldn’t do it, because I believed you deserved more than a mad man bursting into millions of pieces out of a sudden, especially me, who you know to be a well-centred person. I would scream just to be heard, yelling at the stars above – but I fear the stars were the only ones to know apart from John.

John found out a bit later, after you and I both stopped caring. He noticed the break up between us, although there was nothing to break up since there was nothing between us. But I craved for it with all of my might. I was bleeding just to feel, and have you feel back – I craved your soft touch, and your never ending love; it was perhaps egoistical from me to dream of you falling in love, but I needed it. I must admit that a bit of me got very proud of knowing that you did love me back.

If you had only told me how you truly felt, things would be different. I would be writing another kind of letter – if any – and not a good-bye one. I would be by your side, with my mind on its place and my heart warm by your side. But I’m afraid it will never happen, and I will never see you again.

Is this making things easier for you? I knew you would try to run away, quitting perhaps, but I’m sure you would never consider that I would kill a man threatening your and all of my family’s life; did you think I could murder someone? Of course you didn’t, because you were in love and love blind us all. But I did, and now I will have to go away. This letter is to free us both from the invisible chain we unconsciously tied around our necks.

The shell of what things could have been will be destroyed once I finish writing this letter, and hopefully yours will once you finish reading it. The secrets we kept were too frail, and our tired bones must rest now. Carrying such weight isn’t healthy, you know it for sure.

I’m sad to think I never knew. Not only does it mean I’m not as good as I thought I was, but it also means I missed the chance of my life. Do you feel the same? After reading this letter, and after doing whatever it is that you chose to do with it, will you forgive me for being so blind? I kept you away from love, happiness and maybe a future. You will now walk the London streets alone, knowing that it could have been me by your side, rather than the cold wind and the yellow fog.

I hope that your future is as bright as mine can’t be. A person like you will be able to find someone else soon, and hopefully someone better. I must admit, I was very concerned that you would fall for me, because I know who I am and I know that you deserve better. I also know that this letter has different messages that may result confusing, but do know that love is confusing and, although I have stopped caring, my love for you will continue for the rest of my days as an old memory deep inside my soul.

Remember those nights, at the very top of the bridge that crosses the Thames, in which we would find the one boat sailing earlier than the rest? Remember the tiny red light it had on the top? Remember the pulsing, blurry vision we’d get of it once it sailed away? That is my love for you now. It is objective, because it is there, but it no longer shines in front row but rather in the back.

Am I being too harsh with you? Apologies, my lack of care is playing with us me. As said before, if I had known how you felt, things would be different. However, you kept me reaching in the dark for something to… conceal. Why did you do this? Did you stop caring before me? Please, do tell me how you achieved it.

I hope you don’t forget me, lover. I hope you find someone else that isn’t as blind or fragile as me. Please, don’t remember me as the killer that wrote you a sad letter just to shake you off his mind. Remember me as the world’s smartest man, the one that you were once able to love. Maybe then I will turn human again.

Dig my dear, dig deep beneath the surface.

Forever yours,
S.H.”

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