• Member Since 14th Jun, 2012
  • offline last seen 7 hours ago


What, still here?


“I’m just worried you might be wearing yourself out, that’s all.”

This story is a gift for Red Parade, a talented writer and a great mate. Thank you for everything.
The cover is done by the enormously talented Rice
CW: Trauma, blood, animal death
Particular thanks to Red Parade (yep, he's so cool he actually helped edit his own gift) and Wish for their help in getting the story ready

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 6 )

Wow, this is great, I love this story really I do

Holy shit, this fantastic piece is finally up!

This was truly fantastic and probably one of my favorite pieces from you yet. Absolutely amazing stuff, your descriptions are real and visceral and painfully vivid. I really love this, thank you so much for it!

How dare you make me feel things???? In my me???? You come into my house and give me EMOTIONS????

Incredible work once again, Seer!

Really interesting and evocative story. Loved the figurative (or is it?) destruction happening all around her.

I'd never thought of this pairing. I didn't even know this character existed but for some reason, when I saw the cover and I read the description and the title, I was compelled to read it. I held it off for a few days, but ultimately came back to it. This is a masterpiece. Every word feels intentional and thought out, and it's absolutely beautiful and moving to read. Very VERY good. I think my absolute favorite part was this:

Because art wasn’t suffering. Art was honesty. Art was the courage to reflect even an ounce of your true self out onto the audience for even just a split second. Some desperate moment of thrashing significance in the endless, collective sea of pointlessness.

Art wasn’t suffering. Fiddlestick’s art was suffering.

And on that stage, she suffered for them. She suffered because out there in that audience was every talent scout she could pray to hear her music and they were there hearing her now and Fiddlesticks didn’t care. She didn’t care about her parents out there, nor her siblings, nor her friends.

That was so. Jarring? I can't describe it. I read it over and over again because the words felt sharp and I felt impacted by it. Art ISN'T suffering, and even though you can suffer for your art it doesn't make your art inherently better on a technical level. It just means you're suffering, and what you're making probably isn't at it's best. Again, amazing work. Definitely going to try and keep up with your stuff.

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