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buriedinbaltimore · 5 years ago

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Imagine the foxes playing two truths and a lie...

The upperclassmen start playing it as a drinking game one night and Neil is intrigued. Andrew is also intrigued but doesn’t show it and refuses to play.

They are all already pretty tipsy, with Kevin, Matt, Nicky, and Aaron pretty much drunk.

Allison goes first, she has an amazing poker face and calmly says all three statements with no facial twitches or vocal cues. “my first car was a Toyota Camry (truth), my prom dress cost over $10k (lie), and I once made out with Miley Cyrus (truth)”

Renee, Neil, and Aaron guess right, Matt, Dan, Kevin, and Nicky have to drink.

Then it’s Matt’s turn and he is terrible, he starts snickering before he opens his mouth. “I’ve swam with sharks (truth)” he says, but he cannot control his face and it keeps contorting as he tries to maintain a neutral expression. He takes a deep breath to try and control his giggles, “my favorite flower is sunflowers (truth)” then he can’t hold it in anymore and starts hysterically laughing and chokes out, “My favorite city in the world is Newark, NJ (lie)”

Everyone gets it right and Matt has to drink.

Dan is next, she goes for the “one of these is so out there and crazy it can’t be a lie...or is it?” method.

((It is.))

“I’ve never shot a gun (truth), as a kid my favorite food was celery with ranch dressing (truth), and when I was 18 I won the lottery but the ticket was ruined and I couldn’t claim the money (lie)”

Aaron jumps in with “Obviously you never won the lottery, how would you even know if the ticket was destroyed”

Dan has her story ready. “When I first turned 18, I played the same numbers every week. It went on for a few months when my numbers were picked, but by that point playing was more of a habit than anything else and I wasn’t too careful with my tickets. I searched for it everywhere and found that I left it in my jeans pocket when I did my laundry.”

Allison asks what the numbers were, and Dan answers with no hesitation, which makes Allison tilt her head and stare into Dan’s eyes. Dan looks back without guile, totally relaxed.

Nicky is looking at her with his eyes wide and mouth slightly open and asks how much money she would have won

When Dan answers $53 million dollars Nicky gasps and Matt groans.

Neil, Renee, and Allison get it right, but everyone else falls for it.

When its Nicky turn he forgets to say a lie.

He is sitting there trying to come up with something for what feels like forever while every goads him for taking so long.

Finally, after waiting 5 minutes, Kevin says “I’m going because Nicky obviously can’t come up with anything” and Nicky jumps across Kevins lap and goes “No no no no no, I’ve got it!”

Without moving off Kevin he says “I’m allergic to shellfish, I died my hair green once, and I’ve read all the twilight books three times“ He moves back to his spot looking pleased with himself.

Everyone starts discussing theories until Andrew says in his bored, flat voice, “Nicky, those are all true”

Nicky starts to protest, thinks for a second, then just says “Fuck!” and takes a shot.

Kevin rolls his eyes so hard that his entire head rotates then says, while slightly slurring, “Okay, my turn! I’ve played a game of pick up basketball once (lie), I know all the lyrics to We Didn’t Start the Fire (truth), and I’ve traveled to over a dozen countries (truth).”

Matt starts hysterically laughing again, “You know all the lyrics to We Didn’t Start the Fire! oh my god Kevin you are such a nerd!” everyone else starts laughing at Kevin too.

“Maybe I do, maybe it’s the lie!”

“Everyone knows you’ve never played a sport besides Exy in your life Kevin” Dan says, “Will you sing it for us? Please, please, please!”

Allison, Nicky, and Matt join Dan in asking Kevin to sing. Renee even says, “It would be lovely to hear you sing it Kevin” to which Kevin blushes a little and answers, “Maybe later” and then takes his shot.

Aaron is drunk enough at this point to spill some truths he otherwise never would, and will wish for the rest of his life that he never had.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a figure skater when I grew up.(truth)”

Everyone goes completely silent and stares at him unsure whether to laugh or not but he doesn’t realize and continues

“The first time I got high I thought the squirrels in the tree wanted to adopt me as their squirrel king (truth), and I hate Taylor Swift (lie)”

No one says anything at first, and just when Aaron starts to realize something is up, Nicky says “Nah man, you LOVE T. Swift, you can’t deny it!”

They collectively make a silent agreement to ignore this new information about Aaron until he sobers up a bit and can either defend himself, or will be more fun to tease.

In the end, everyone but Renee guesses right, but she guessed wrong on purpose because she didn’t think that Aaron should be having any more to drink.

When it’s Renee’s turn, she smiles sweetly and says, ”I can juggle up to 7 balls (truth), I have never drank diet soda (lie), and I once had a pet turtle named Vincent (truth).”

No one is confident about which is the lie and it is the longest the foxes debate after anyones turn. It doesn’t help that Renee refuses to answer questions, and whenever someone tries to ask her anything she just smiles and shrugs.

It comes out to Neil and Aaron getting it right, while everyone else has to drink.

“How the fuck has it never come up that you’re a master juggler?” Allison asks angrily

“It wouldn’t be appropriate to do it at practice, and we’re not really around balls much otherwise.”

Everyone asks for a demonstration, “I will juggle later if Kevin will sing.”

Everyone looks at Kevin who sighs but says “Okay, fine!”

They all cheer then wait eagerly for Neil to go.

Neil sits quietly for a little while, not as long as Nicky, but long enough that Aaron says, “Come on this should be easy for you! You lied to us all for a year, what’s the problem, the truth?”

Neil shoots him a dirty look but doesn’t respond for a few more seconds then says,

“My mom and I once helped deliver a baby at a truck stop in Alberta, I’ve been bitten by a camel, and I can speak 7 languages”

Everyone just stares at him.

“Two of those things are true?” Matt finally asks

“Yeah.” Neil says, shrugging. Everyone is silent again.

Nicky turns to Andrew for help, but he refuses to say anything. His eyes are bright with interest though and he looks at Neil for a long time. Internally, he thinks the one about helping birth a baby has something off about it.

After much debate, Allison, Kevin, and Matt guess the baby, Renee, Dan, and Aaron guess the camel, and Nicky says the languages, “No one can know SEVEN languages!! I won’t believe it!”

They all turn to Neil expectantly and he says, “It was the first one, we were just outside Vancouver, in British Columbia, not Alberta.”

“But you, Neil Josten, have helped deliver a baby?” Allison asks incredulously.

“Technically I wasn’t Neil Josten yet…”

Everyone groans. Everyone takes a shot.

Cut to 15 minutes later, Renee is juggling an exy ball, some apples, and Matt’s phone while Kevin sings. Nicky tries to sing along with Kevin but definitely doesn’t know the right words, Aaron is watching Renee wide eyed, Dan and Matt are playing air guitar behind Kevin, and Allison is looking for more things for Renee to juggle. Neil and Andrew sit quietly on a desk holding cigarettes, observing their idiot friends.

Stories Behind the Truths and Lies

Allison

My first car was a Toyota Camry (truth) - Allison’s parents wanted her to learn how to drive in a safe car that wouldn’t draw a lot of attention, so they got her a Camry. She only drove it for 3 weeks before demanding an upgrade.

My prom dress cost over $10k (lie) - This was almost true. She had ordered a custom Zac Posen dress but before it was finalized she made her decision to go to PSU and play Exy, and her mother canceled the order. She ended up wearing something she found in a vintage store that she altered herself. She ended up enjoying it a lot, which led to her decision to study fashion. (In my hc she played professional Exy for 3? seasons but was injured and then started her fashion line.)

I once made out with Miley Cyrus (truth) - While out clubbing one night she met Miley through mutual friends, they were attracted to each other, they made out. Miley asked for her number but Allison wasn’t looking for anything more than a hook up.

Matt

I’ve swam with sharks (truth) - He did this with his mom on a vacation and they both loved it. They also have a tradition where they watch at least one night of shark week together, or at least call each other to talk while they are both watching.

My favorite flower is sunflowers (truth) - No story lol I just think he would like sunflowers.

My favorite city in the world is Newark, NJ (lie) - I love thinking about New Yorker Matt. Raised on the Upper East Side, dad a top plastic surgeon, mom a public figure? Child grew up surrounded by serious privilege. HC that in fifth grade he made friends with a boy who was on scholarship at his school. Let’s call him… Metin. He lived in Queens? He took the subway? Matt goes to his house one day and it is 1/8th the size of his apartment and there are 9 people living there; Metin’s parents, two grandparents, his uncle, his two sisters, and his cousin. They all speak Turkish in the house and it’s loud and crowded but so full of life and love and Matt loves it. He and Metin grew apart when Matt started using, but before that they were best friends for years and explored the city together, Matt learning about and experiencing so much culture that for the first 9 years of his life he didn’t know existed. When Nicky wanted to go to Times Square for New Years Matt knew he had to be a good host and take them but inside he was DYING. I’m getting off track. No New Yorker could ever like Newark. I’m not convinced anybody could like Newark. It is indeed, very laughable.

Dan

I’ve never shot a gun (truth) - Dan hates guns and refuses to shoot one.

As a kid my favorite food was celery with ranch dressing (truth) - Idk I just thought this was cute. And also thinking about young Dan who didn’t have a lot of access to healthy foods getting celery sticks and ranch with her free school lunch and getting SO excited. Trading her cookie to a classmate for their celery.

When I was 18 I won the lottery but the ticket was ruined and I couldn’t claim the money (lie) - I like to think this is part true. After Dan turned 18 but before she was recruited for the Foxes, she played lotto a lot, always with the same numbers that she got from a fortune cookie that said, “Failure is not defeat until you stop trying.” She stopped playing once she signed with Wymack.

Nicky (all truths)

I’m allergic to shellfish - Mostly I love that Andrew knew all these things about Nicky, especially his allergy because he’s always looking out to make sure Nicky doesn’t eat something he can’t.

I died my hair green once - At first, when he took custody of the twins and started showing up for them at school at stuff, he hated the looks he got. He was a 19 year old kid who was supposed to be their guardian? Not to mention the way people eyed his skin and hair when he said he was family. One day he decided to dye his hair blond and he asked Andrew and Aaron to help, to try to bond. Aaron wanted nothing to do with it, but surprisingly, Andrew seem enthusiastic about the idea. He bought the dye and did everything for Nicky in the kitchen. When he was finally done roughly washing the dye out of Nicky’s hair, Nicky went to the bathroom to see how he looked and saw that Andrew had died his hair green. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the prank or cry because he foolishly thought he might be getting through to Andrew. When he went back to the kitchen, he tried to laugh it off and said maybe he should go to a salon to get the color right. Andrew told him he was stupid to try and change how he looked just because people were dumb enough to think that families needed to look alike. Besides, they weren’t a family anyway. “Family” is a toxic excuse for things people put up with, a reason we accept the tragedies and inconveniences forced upon us. (Nora’s words) Nicky was upset, and dyed his hair back to his natural color once the roots started growing in, but he reaffirmed his commitment in that moment that he would show the twins what Erik had shown him, what a family could really be.

I’ve read all the twilight books three times - Nicky was a huge fan of twilight, even going to the midnight release party for the last book. He was disappointed in the movie adaptations but loved the casting and watched for the eye candy. He is loving the twilight renaissance especially the twilight is gay discourse.

Kevin

I’ve played a game of pick up basketball once (lie) - Kevin has never played a game of basketball, or soccer, or tennis, or baseball, or any other sport for that matter and can not understand why anyone would want to.

I know all the lyrics to We Didn’t Start the Fire (truth) - Kayleigh Day was a big music fan, she loved everything from classical to country, but one of her favorite artists was Billy Joel. After she died and Kevin moved into Evermore, he almost forgot about her music because the music at the Nest was all chosen for pragmatic reasons, like its BPM and ability to pump the players up. One day, when Kevin was around 15 years old, a rebellious Raven played his own music while training in the weight room. He and his partner were the only ones in there until Riko and Kevin showed up, and they turned it off as soon as they realized they had come in, but Kevin heard some of “Only the Good Die Young” and for the first time in a long time had a vivid memory of his mother. He asked the boys what had been playing, and Riko scoffed at the name Billy Joel. That night while Riko was sleeping, Kevin downloaded Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits and listened until he feel asleep, and he continued listening to it for weeks until he started remembering more of his mothers songs from his childhood. We Didn’t Start the Fire was one of his favorites because history.

I’ve traveled to over a dozen countries (truth) - Between travel through Europe with his mom while she spread Exy and professional appearances he made with Riko, Kevin is the most well traveled besides Neil.

Aaron

When I was little, I wanted to be a figure skater when I grew up. (truth) - When Aaron was around four or five, he watched the winter olympics on TV and fell in love with figure skating. Tilda never bothered to get him skating lessons, but one day, when Aaron was seven, there was an attempt to revive the Ice Capades. Aaron never thought he would get to go, but Tilda surprised him with tickets. It is one of the few really good memories he has of his mom.

The first time I got high I thought the squirrels in the tree wanted to adopt me as their squirrel king (truth) - I just imagine Aaron trying his mom’s drugs for the first time alone in the back yard, laying flat on his back looking up at a family of squirrels, saying, “I’m king of the squirrels!!!”

I hate Taylor Swift (lie) - Katelyn is a HUGE Taylor Swift fan. When they first started hanging out, Aaron didn’t really like her music but didn’t want to say anything. Eventually he started associating her with Katelyn though, and he loves watching Katelyn sign and dance so much that he now genuinely enjoys her music.

Renee

I can juggle up to 7 balls (truth) - Renee always had a natural juggling talent. She never really tried to learn, it was just always something she could do.

I have never drank diet soda (lie) - She does prefer non-diet soda, but she has tried diet before.

I once had a pet turtle named Vincent (truth) - Vincent was a gift from one of her mother’s boyfriends, the only one Renee ever remotely like. He was horrible to her mother, but had a soft spot for Renee and treated her kindly. They broke up after a couple of months, and he gave her Vincent as a parting gift. She had him until she got arrested, she couldn’t go back home to get him and when her mother went to prison he died.

Neil

My mom and I once helped deliver a baby at a truck stop in Alberta (lie) - This happened while Neil and his mom were on the way to Seattle. It was the middle of the night and they stopped to get gas a few hours out from Vancouver when they heard a woman screaming. There was nothing around for miles and only one other car in the lot that had been there when they pulled in. His mother immediately dropped the gas pump and Neil was already back in the car when the screaming stopped and his mother hesitated. Neil had never seen his mom hesitate with a potential threat around before, and he listened closely to try and understand why she stopped. All he heard was a woman panting harshly, but it sounded almost as though there was a rhythm to it. Mary signaled for him to get out of the car, and ordered him to grab some blankets, the first aid kit, and water bottles and follow her. They walked behind the locked public bathrooms, and found the woman squatting, with tears running down her face. Mary wasn’t very gentle or comforting, but she told the woman in a calm and confident voice that they were going to help. Neil didn’t do much, but he let the woman hold his hand and squeeze until he thought she would break it. He gave her sips of water between her contractions and did anything else his mother said. Once the baby was out, wrapped in a blanket, and in its mothers arms, Mary grabbed Neil and they left without another word to the woman. She stared after them, confused and grateful. Neil and his mother never spoke of it again.

I’ve been bitten by a camel (truth) - Neil and Mary spent a few days in Dubai to get some papers from a specialist there before traveling back to North America. The man did his business out of a racetrack where they held camel races. To get to his office, they had to travel through the back part of the track that the jockeys used to get the camels into position. Neil got too close to one of the camels and it bit his arm, luckily (or not), the jockey was in the middle of beating it and before it closed its mouth too tightly, landed a blow that caused the camel to immediately open its mouth again. Once he was freed, Neil was out of reach in a millisecond.

I can speak 7 languages (truth) - English, German, French, Russian, Hebrew, Czech, Greek. (To clarify he can speak 7 languages but he wouldn’t necessarily call himself fluent in all 7) We all know English, German, French, and Nora had a hc that Andrew and Neil learn Russian so they can talk to each other even with the cousins around which I love. Hebrew - In my hc Neil is jewish, as are Mary and Nathan. After running away, Mary didn’t know where to go once she had left her brother. She didn’t speak any other languages besides English, but she could understand Yiddish from hearing her grandparents and sometimes her parents speaking it growing up, and she could understand Polish from her time married to Nathan. She didn’t want to go to Poland in case any of Nathan’s contacts recognized her, so she decided to go to Israel. She knew there were communities there that spoke Yiddish and she was familiar if not comfortable with Hebrew from going to temple when she was younger. But most importantly she knew Nathan didn’t have any regular contacts there. While they were there, along with learning Hebrew, Mary pretended to be interested in converting to Greek Orthodox in order to get secret Greek lessons for her and Neil. After a while but sooner than she had hoped, Mary got a warning that Nathan had figured out where they were. She didn’t think it would be wise to go directly to Greece so she decided to move them to Prague next, since Czech and Polish are fairly similar and she really had no other ideas. While in Prague she continued her and Neil’s Greek lessons, and they went on to Greece eventually. Mary didn’t want them to lose any of the languages they learned, so she came up with a system that on certain days of the week they would speak to each other in certain languages. After Mary died, Neil pretty much gave up on Czech and Hebrew because he hadn’t been surrounded by them in so long and he hadn’t used either except with Mary since they moved from Prague or Israel. They had lived in Greece for longer than they had in Prague or Israel though, moving to a few different cities, so he felt stronger with Greek.

Fin.

This is my first time writing anything fanfiction, my first time doing any creative writing at all really, and I would love any and all feedback!! Thanks for reading this long ass post, I hope it wasn’t terrible!!

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years ago

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Out Tonight (Part 6)

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Nipple Play

<- Part 5

Summary: Backstory, Spanish lessons, and finally some sober sex! 🥳 (This chapter is very NSFW/18+)

For @thatesqcrush’s Kink Bingo challenge! And with this, I finally finish a row!

5,420 words

The twenty-minute coffee date Rafael Barba had been dreading somehow turned into hours without him realizing it. The summer morning passed quickly until the sun was at its zenith above the turtle pond, and all of the work-related responsibilities he would have been grinding himself to death on had slipped his mind as he wandered through the park with your hand in his.

It turned out that you did have a few things in common. You both grew up in the Bronx. Though when you told him where, he snorted and joked, “What is an upstanding young lady from Spuyten Duyvil doing with a boy from the projects?”

Your jaw dropped when he told you what neighborhood he grew up in. It was an area you were familiar with mainly as a place to avoid, especially, god forbid, at night. The clean-cut lawyer in a sharp suit did not look anything like what you’d expect from the poverty he came from. You just assumed his family was wealthy.

“That’s incredible,” you said, a new surge of admiration for him stoking the fire of your attraction. You scooted closer on the shaded bench beneath a tall oak you’d stopped to sit on, your bare leg pressing against his slacks. You still hadn’t kissed, everything just barely skirting the romantic. The touch of his hand shot electricity through your skin, just from his fingers brushing yours. Neither of you wanted to push things too far, too fast, considering the guilt still lingering between you. “You must be a genius.”

Instead of boasting with the sly, cocky grin you had learned was among his favorite facial expressions, he grew serious, all but a trace of a smile leaving his lips. “I just worked hard,” he said.

“Really hard,” you said, knowingly, squeezing his hand. “Even people who work hard, who are smart… it’s almost impossible to escape that kind of poverty. The fact that you did it is…”

His inquisitive eyes, matching the foliage behind him, were strained as if deciding whether to share something or not. But he did, quietly. “I still work hard. Every day. It feels like if I make one false step, everything could fall apart. But, I have enough to support my mother.”

“And an impressive collection of ties,” you chimed.

He smirked, lifting your hand to casually press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. “And suspenders.”

Your pulse raced. Looking up and down this flawlessly stylish man, it all made sense. “Dressed to kill,” you muttered. “You wear it like a disguise.”

He frowned, the warmth leaving his eyes. You had touched a nerve. “Would it be a disguise if you wore it, or just because I’ll always be poor deep down?”

“I didn’t mean—OK, I get how that sounded. I just mean… you are exceptionally attractive. Like, really attractive. I mean, why am I telling you? You know that. Look at you.” You continued the obsequious flattery until a sarcastic smile appeared in the corner of his lips. “You know, actually,” you admitted, “I only grew up in a good neighborhood because my dad re-married rich. The weeks I was with my mom… she worked three jobs just to support me and a crummy apartment. I could never actually count on what the step-family would pay for, so sometimes I rode on boats with rich people, and sometimes I lived off canned pasta. It was weird.”

He looked at you appraisingly as he assimilated this new tidbit of information. “It isn’t easy, straddling two worlds.”

“Except you worked your ass off to break into one, and I ran away into the woods and got really into trees. Trees don’t judge you for not fitting in.”

“I’m sorry for judging you,” he whispered, his voice turning surprisingly tender. He lifted a hand and gently brought it to your cheek. You closed your eyes as it made contact, his palm warm against your skin, the pad of his thumb soft as it began stroking your cheek. You leaned forward, and he closed the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours, slow and sweet. It was chaste at first, and careful, but neither of you wanted to break it, and as it continued, his arms wrapped around the small of your back and your shoulder, drawing you in deeper as his heady scent enveloped you, the taste of coffee on his tongue as his lips parted.

“Barba?”

Rafael practically jumped out of your arms as an inquisitive voice called his name, leaving you kissing the air. The voice belonged to a tall brunette woman pushing a toddler along in a stroller.

“Liv!” he practically shrieked in alarm, straightening himself.

You looked between them and the kid, and felt like such an idiot. “Oh my god, you are cheating!”

Liv gave you a look, and burst out laughing. “Sorry, sorry, nothing like that. I’m Sergeant Benson, SVU,” she extended you a firm handshake and explained, “I work with Barba on a lot of cases.” She turned back to Barba with an amused smirk. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. Counselor, I didn’t realize you had a personal life.”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying. How’s Noah?”

“He’s perfect,” she smiled, cooing at the curly-haired child. “He loves the turtles, so we’re going down to the pond. Beautiful day for a nature walk.”

“She knows every tree,” Barba volunteered, puffing his chest out with the same cockiness he used to talk about himself, tipping his head at you. “Go ahead, test her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Liv said, bemused. She gave a polite nod and a reminder that she still owed Barba a coffee for some legal thing he had come through on (which only gave you a slight pang of jealousy), and then waved goodbye, walking down the path toward the water.

You sat in silence, recovering. Barba was obviously scandalized to have been caught in a compromising position by a colleague, the tips of his ears turning red. You were glad she wasn’t his wife, but didn’t love having to suddenly confront the fact that he had an entire social life you knew absolutely nothing about. It sort of ruined the intimacy of the moment, tearing the cardboard moon out of your sky too soon.

Barba broke the silence first with a low, drawn-out groan. He turned to you, his eyes soft but flashing with passion, taking your hands in his again. “If we start seeing each other… there is a good chance you will get to know Liv in some capacity.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, and on the exhale beseeched, “You cannot tell her how we met.”

The earnestness with which he implored you, holding both your hands, made you burst out laughing. He did a poor job hiding his smile as he watched you double over. When you finally contained yourself, you pecked an innocent kiss to his lips. “We can say we met at a bar. We don’t have to mention all the, uh...” Karaoke. Drunken shenanigans. Dubious consent. Whatever you call we-didn’t-have-penis-in-vagina-sex-but-you-fingered-me-until-we-orgasmed. He grimaced with you as you both recalled all of the things you would not be telling anyone about your meet-cute. Then you started remembering his fingers gliding in and out of you, his hungry lips marking up your skin, and a warm shiver ran down your back. He swallowed, seeing the lustful heaviness creep into your eyes and responding with his own.

He nearly kissed you again, wrapping you in a passionate embrace that would have hastened you to a bedroom, but you pulled back. He said “seeing each other.” You thought this was a fun fling with no strings attached, and the idea that he was already thinking about more made your heart sink with guilt. “I should tell you...”

You never got to finish your thought. Liv had only gotten fifty feet when her phone rang. She was yelling into it frantically, demanding answers. Barba’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Liv stormed back up the path, waving to him. “There’s been a… development,” she said, censoring the case details in your presence. “They need me at the precinct. You’re probably going to want to come, too.”

“I believe I am already being summoned,” he replied, checking his phone.

“Good. I need to call the sitter. Please let everyone know I’m on my way.” She hurried off, and any hint of flirtation was gone from Barba’s eyes as he stood, fully back in cold lawyer mode as he made a phone call, then another to order a Lyft.

He was already walking with quick, purposeful steps toward the nearest exit of the park when he hung up his last call and turned back to you apologetically. You had been trailing behind him, unsure if he wanted you to follow, and didn’t miss that you were an afterthought. But his regret was sincere. And the truth was, you didn’t mind this serious version of Barba at all—the sober Barba who poured his soul into getting justice and would forget a date he had been enjoying the instant duty called—because you’d seen the drunk version who fell apart, sobbing in your arms when he let down the victims. He had a hard side and a soft side, and so far, there was nothing about him that you didn’t like.

Oh god, you had a crush on him.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s an emergency,” he explained, brow furrowed heavily over yearning green eyes.

Oh god, this was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Maybe a few nights, but a stand nonetheless. How dare he look at you like that?

“It’s alright. It sounds important,” you half smiled.

“Can I call you later?” he asked. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he had none of the confident swagger usually in his voice. It was a small, hopeful sort of question that told you there were real emotional stakes to your answer.

Oh god, did he have a crush on you, too? Did you have a crush on each other? This was terrible!

Drawn in as if by a magnetic pull, you closed the short distance, threaded your hands between his arms and body, and clasped them together behind his back. His lips quirked as his confidence returned. His hands cupped the sides of your face, then his mouth crashed against yours, fired with all of the passion of desire realized and reciprocated, relief, and longing. It was the type of kiss that would have been drawn out and sensual if it hadn’t been condensed by necessity into a hurried goodbye. You were out of breath and overheated when he broke it, seconds later.

“I’ll be waiting,” you breathed. He gave a hungry growl and a sharp, promising stare that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core before running to catch his ride.

***

Barba hated intelligent psychopaths. Even after they’d been put away, there was always some new appeal to fight, a new witness to come forward, some clever misdirection to cast their crimes into doubt. He’d been running around since noon working out deals with witnesses, obtaining warrants, and warning Liv’s detectives that they were being played. Now the sun was hanging low in the sky, and he realized he had never heard Carmen’s futile warning for him to go home already because his secretary didn’t work on weekends when he was pulling overtime. It was just him and his headache.

The time. What time was it?

He sat bolt upright in his leather office chair and groped for his phone. There was a notification from you from an hour ago that he vaguely recalled hearing buzz.

“How’s the emergency?”

He cursed and checked the time. It was getting late. Too late to make a reservation at any of the swankier restaurants he could take you. But he called you anyway, and was delighted when you answered.

“Hey. It’s Barba,” he said.

“I know,” said your amused voice on the other end of the line. “Your contact is in my phone, Sexy Karaoke Lawyer.”

He groaned in a way that was secretly a laugh. “Alright, Lorax. Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner. Actually, I thought I could make dinner. At my place?”

You gasped with mock scandalization. “Is this a booty call, Mr. Barba?”

He choked. “No. I just—” He stopped stammering when you started cackling like a grinning idiot, and his voice dropped low. “What if it is?”

The sudden shift in confidence caught you off guard, and he heard you swallow. “Then I’ll be there.”

***

It had been ages since he’d had time to make his abuelita’s costillas de puerco recipe. Or rather, it had been ages since he’d made time, considering he hardly had the time to do it now. He rushed through the corner deli at lightning pace to pick up what he needed, and rushed through prep, knowing you’d be over in less than an hour.

He had no idea why he felt such a drive to impress you. Why he needed to see you again so soon when you’d spent hours by his side that morning. The entire short time he had known you had been strange, anxiety-inducing, and guilt-ridden, but instead of hating you, he found himself wanting more.

The truth he didn’t want to admit was, every interaction with you, no matter how awkward, had been underscored by a potent sexual chemistry, and at the moment, he was nothing but a horny teenage boy who wanted to get laid.

That was all. This was some mid-forties hormonal resurgence. Madre de dios, it was a midlife crisis.

Or maybe this was what happened when he stopped getting in his own way. He’d spent years nursing a broken heart, years that turned into decades guarding himself against anyone getting too close. He never thought he’d feel this way again for somebody new. It was too late in life to meet someone who would know him as well as his childhood friends from el barrio, and they were all married by now. But he’d opened himself up just an inch, just for a night, by mistake, and let someone see past the hard, cynical facade, and now he wanted you to know him. He wanted to know you. He wanted to see how this ended. Maybe this was a revelation.

His heart jumped in his chest at the buzz of the door intercom.

***

“Hola, Rafael,” you greeted, and he grinned at the way you pronounced his name with the correct accent. “Oh my gosh, what smells amazing?”

He stood aside and nodded you in. The apartment was tiny, as most city apartments are, but tidy and well decorated. You were immediately drawn to the sturdy dining room table made of solid burl, and admired the natural chaotic pattern of the grain.

“It needs fifteen more minutes,” he said, observing with amusement how you completely ignored the good silver he’d broken out and started stroking the wood.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” you pouted innocently. Barba growled low in his throat, cupping a hand around your hip to draw you close, and you responded by pressing your hips flush against his, smiling lustily. Well, you had more or less agreed that dinner was a pretense for a booty call—no reason not to get right to it.

You hadn’t changed, but he was wearing a more casual wine-colored cashmere sweater, and you ran your hand up it, relishing the velvet softness under your palm as well as the shape of his chest. His lips met yours hot and searching, but didn’t stop there. They trailed over the side of your mouth, kissing down your jaw. He pressed wet, hungry kisses along your neck, and you moaned as his tongue lapped over the soft underside of your throat, his hands gliding over your hips. He pulled back by an inch. “Are you sure… you want this?” he murmured.

“God yes,” you moaned with your lips in his perfect salt-and-pepper hair, arousal raising your temperature as your body responded to his touch. “You haven’t been drinking this time?”

“Not a drop,” he replied huskily, somehow making it sound lewd as he resumed kissing the crook of your neck, and over your shoulder. You curled your fingers through his hair, and backed you up until your legs hit the edge of the table, and rested your weight against it, enjoying the feeling of being pinned as you angled your pelvis to grind against his growing erection.

“Oh, Rafa...” you moaned. “Can I call you Rafa?” you asked, not sure if the nickname was too personal. With the emotional baggage of your first night together, you hadn’t been sure if being on a first-name basis was respectful enough.

“You can call me anything you want,” he purred, his teeth gently pinching your shoulder.

You made a deep, chesty noise, sinfully considering that. “Don’t give me such broad permission, or you might regret it… papi.”

He groaned, and you felt his cock kicking against your cunt. Bunching up your skirt over your hips, you rocked your hips against him, panting just from feeling the strength of his arousal through his clothes. “Yes,” he hissed softly, holding you firmly against him as he worked his clothed erection against your panties, growing more excited with every mewl and shudder it drew from your lips. “That night was… moronic… but I remember the way I felt… how much I wanted you.” He turned his head and sucked a light bruise into your neck. “Do you still feel that way?”

You dipped your head to coax him back to your mouth, his pink lips wet with saliva as your tongue tasted them. “I wanted you to fuck me so bad,” you groaned, jerking your hips for emphasis on the word fuck. “But your fingers are very skilled… and your mouth...” You kissed him again, and felt his hand reach between your legs to slide your panties off.

His fingers paused halfway down the elastic. “Is this moving too fast?” he panted, suddenly trying to be reasonable. The kind of thing you would worry about if you were building a long-term relationship.

“Shh,” you hushed him gently. “I don’t want to think about too fast or too slow, or how different our lives are, or what’s going to happen after tonight. We’re just two strangers having fun. Can’t it just be that?”

He kissed you so softly, then. So tenderly that he could only have been subliminally trying to convince you of something more. His heart drummed with possessive affection; he already knew he wanted more than just tonight. At least the primitive, reckless part of him that didn’t overthink and over-plan every decision did. The rational part of him and the part that would say anything to please you came to an accord as he nodded, lips moving against your skin, “It can be.”

You grabbed his wrist and helped him slip your underwear the rest of the way off, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. His fingers didn’t immediately plunge themselves into your drenched folds, and his hips didn’t immediately return to grind against your wetness. His intelligent, cocky green eyes gave you a probing stare.

“Y qué quieres hacer esta noche?” he purred, low and seductive, giving you a choice.

“Oh, papi, me encanta cuándo hablas español. I want you to do anything you want to me. Anything,” you moaned, fairly certain that, with one or two exceptions, you really meant it. This man turned you on in ways you’d never experienced. There was nothing you wouldn’t try if he wanted it, and you knew he’d stop the second you asked, which made you feel bolder.

He chuckled. “Don’t give me such broad permission, dulce naturalista.”

The promise of mischief in his voice made you shiver, your cunt dripping. “Anything, papi. I just… want to know that you want me.”

He hummed. “This dress, this flimsy thing,” he hooked his index fingers through the narrow shoulder straps and tugged. “Did you know I’ve been staring at it all day, thinking about doing this?” He pulled the front down, just by a few inches, and freed your nipples. He dipped his head, and you gasped as he took one in his mouth.

“Oh god, it feels so good,” you whined as he began to suck, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. It was like he had a direct connection to your clit. He wasn’t even touching you there, but a hot pressure began to build between your legs as he devoured your sensitive nipples.

Then he suddenly released, your hard peak popping out of his mouth with a wet sound, and you whined for him not to stop. “Tu no dominas el español, verdad?” he asked.

“Qué?” you blurted, confused, but answering his question by not understanding it.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, a devilish look in his eyes. “You need practice, so I’ve decided I’ll only give you what you want if you say it in Spanish.”

“Pero… Qué pasa si… yo no sé… how to say it in Spanish?” You did want to learn more dirty talk, but this game didn’t seem fair. You wanted him to keep sucking your tits.

“You said I could do anything I wanted...” he reminded you, bringing his hand back to one of your breasts and kneading it tormentingly slowly. “Si no lo sabes, intenta. Practica, practica, practica.”

You wondered if this was some sort of dominance thing, or if he just liked watching you struggle with his native language. It was a bit exciting, though, you had to admit. Your pulse was racing with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, because you genuinely had no idea how to say what you wanted. “Mis… pechos? Tu lengua. Por favor.” you pointed from his mouth to your breasts.

“Por favor, chupa mis pezones,” he corrected. “Repite.” You repeated it, and before you’d finished the last syllable, he replied, “Con gusto,” and began stimulating your nipples to the point of torture with his nimble lawyer’s tongue.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, your voice high and pleading, “It feels so good.” You bucked your hips into his and curled your fingers around the back of his head trying to force him to keep going, but he pulled back.

“En español,” he chided.

“En serio?!” you complained, but he simply watched you with his eyebrows quirked, waiting. “Me siento bien?” you tried. He smiled approvingly and lowered his sultry mouth to your skin again, flicking your hardened peak while pinching it between his lips. This time he pushed his hips back against yours so you could feel the heat of his erection on your pussy, and it sent new waves of electricity coursing through your body, which was already heaving just with the attention to your breasts. “Por favor, más... Oh god, yes,” you whimpered.

“Qué sabor muy rica, tu piel,” he murmured, muffled in your skin. “You taste delicious.” The vibrations from his speech tore a choked whimper from your lips, and you bucked your hips against his cock.

You bit down on your lower lip, fighting your rising climax even as you lifted one leg, wrapping it over his hip, to hasten it. “I’m gonna—oh god, you’re going to make me come just from this!”

“Voy a venir,” he coached you in a firm, teacher-like voice that nearly made you double over with arousal. “O puedes decir, ‘Me vas a poner a venir.’”

“M-me pon… ah!” he lightly nipped at your sensitive peak, turning the rest of what you were trying to say into helpless babble. “Please, please fuck me… oh god.” Before he could correct you, you remembered what he’d taught you in the bar right before begging you to leave with him so he could fuck your brains out. “Dámelo duro, papi.”

His whole body shuddered as he took in a shaking breath, but sober Barba never lost control until he decided to surrender it. As much as he wanted to fuck you, he was having too much fun teasing you. “You could also say, ‘Quiero que me coges,’” he explained academically, and you growled with frustration, writhing under him, your cunt seeking purchase against his cock. “If you’re going to speak a language, you’ve got to practice it,” he said, his voice far too calm and even for the circumstance, even with its wicked undertone.

“Dámelo! Por favor! Dáme tu pinga!” you begged frantically, rapid-firing off every way to ask for his cock that you could think of. You reached between your bodies and grasped his engorged sex through his tightened pants and stroked him hard from balls to tip. Your efforts were rewarded with an involuntary whine, Barba’s hips jerking forward.

“Me rindo,” he whimpered in surrender. His breath was ragged and he looked ready to fall apart. You purred with victory, but as you slowed the furious pace of your stroking, he recovered enough of his senses to smirk through his lust. “Pero primero, quiero saborearte.” His voice was thick, and his eyes dark as a tropical storm on a Caribbean island. He lifted the leg you’d wrapped around him up onto the table, and knelt beneath you. “Con tu permiso?”

You nodded, gasping sharply even before his tongue made contact with your soaked pussy just from the obscene expression on his face as he opened his mouth and extended the point of his tongue as he slowly leaned toward you. Your hands braced behind you on the table for support. Then you cried out loud when that tongue did hit you, slightly cold from the air, but quickly warming to match you as his mouth closed over your whole cunt. “Ah, que rica,” he sighed into your pussy, lapping at your slippery arousal with broad, languid strokes of his tongue, unhurried, as if he were aiming for no particular goal but to enjoy your flavor. “So wet for papi. Qué buena estudiante eres. Good students should be rewarded.”

He finally stood back up to his full height in front of you and removed his pants and underwear, letting them fall around his ankles, and his cock sprang free. You gaped down at it in awe. “Oh god, look at that cock,” you practically drooled. You automatically reached down and started stroking it, babbling on about what a thick, beautiful cock it was. He was too lost in the touch of your fingers wrapped around his shaft to even complain that it wasn’t Spanish.

“Ah, condoms!” he interjected before pushing himself inside you like every muscle in his body was screaming to do. “I’ve got some in the bedroom.”

You chewed your lip, not sure if this would come off the wrong way since he wanted to be responsible, but you slowly said, “We don’t need to use one if you don’t want. I’m on the pill, and I don’t have any STDs.”

His stormy eyes pierced into you, clearly tempted, but he couldn’t help remarking cynically, “If you give me a disease, I swear...”

“I’m afraid I don’t have my medical records on me, so I understand if you don’t want to take my word for it. I don’t know why I’m blindly trusting you.” That was a lie. Everything about Rafael Barba screamed precision, caution, and consent, and even after such a short time knowing him, you were absolutely certain he would never put you at risk. In fact, there was no way he’d ever have unprotected sex with a stranger.

Except his very next words were, “Fuck it,” and he hooked his arm under your elevated leg, and began rubbing his thick cock through your folds, coating it with your slick arousal. “You are absolutely sure you want this?” he looked at you with soft, understanding eyes, checking for any doubts.

You let out a needy whine, rolling your hips to rub your pussy against the tip of his fat cock. “Te quiero,” you whimpered, intending to say you wanted it, but his cheeks reddened and his heart flipped as you said something better translated as I love you.

You wouldn’t realize your mistake until much later, thinking back on it, or understand why his face was suddenly frozen between tenderness and panic, and then dawning realization, relief, and a small, barely noticeable wince of disappointment.

He entered you slowly, letting you feel every inch of stretch from his cock. Like the rest of his build, it was not the longest you had ever seen, but it was impressively girthy, and each blissful inch he worked you open brought the slightest fraying edge of pain. He knew his size could be a challenge, and was practiced at preparing, and patience. You were already so dripping wet, you didn’t need extra lube, though he had it on standby, and watched you carefully, pausing to let you rest every time he advanced. As he waited, feeling your walls relax to accept him, he ducked his head to your breasts, savoring the helpless squeals you made when he gave attention to what he learned was one of your most sensitive erogenous zones. Every time he flicked his tongue over your nipple or sucked its hardened peak into his mouth, your cunt twitched around him and your back arched to take more of him. It worked so well, he never stopped teasing your breasts, and your silent cries of, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!” grew in intensity until you were screaming with pleasure, fist clenched in his hair as you held him to your chest, and his balls were pressed tight against your ass.

Panting hard and moaning into your breasts, he began to thrust, slowly at first, but you wrapped your legs around his back and used them as leverage to buck your hips into him, pushing back into each of his thrusts, deepening them and coaxing him to increase his pace. As you angled your hips, he began hitting a deep point inside that made your legs turn to jelly. “Dámelo bien duro,” you tried to say, but it mostly came out as unintelligible gasps and whimpers. His mouth never left your tits and you loved the angle it gave you, being able to watch his face, strained with concentration and clouded with lust, and his tongue working diligently to bring you to a climax that took you off guard with how suddenly it crashed over you. You couldn’t say there was no buildup to it, because you had been in throes since he first pulled down your dress, but he had barely begun to thrust when the heat coiling in your lower back suddenly tightened and snapped, shooting sparks behind your eyelids. “Ah—Rafa!” you wailed, squeezing your fingers in his hair.

He gasped, releasing the globe of your breast from his mouth at the wracking of your body in his arms. Your pussy convulsed, clenching tightly around his cock, coating it in your sweet release, almost too tight for him to thrust through. One more jerk of his hips through your rippling, fluttering muscles and he let out a string of swears, and you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your belly. He pulled back and thrust into you once more, balls swinging against your ass, and his hot seed flooded you. He panted, trembling, still trying to hold onto you, though halfway sitting on a dining table without knocking off any of the plates was not the most ideal location for post-coital recovery cuddling. He grabbed a few paper napkins from behind you to catch the drippings as he pulled out.

It was over too fast, a testament to how long it had been for him. Both of you, really. But you weren’t disappointed. He made you come almost entirely with that silver tongue of his, and you were still shaking too much to take your weight off the table and put it on your legs.

The timer on the oven rang shrilly, announcing dinner was done.

“After dinner,” he promised, pulling his pants back on. “Quiero más de tu cuerpo.”

You were satisfied, but not yet sated, and looked forward to round two.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @caked-crusader / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @da-po / @madamsnape921 / @charlottegrice / @onerestein

#Rafael Barba x Reader #Rafael Barba #Raúl Esparza #rafael barba x female reader #my writing #thatesqcrush kink bingo #thatesqcrush

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poeticaddiction · 5 years ago

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Goodbye my lover 2/?

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: After you and Chris got a divorce you tried to move on but what will happen when you get confronted with all the things again that lead to him leaving you

Part 1

,,I cannot believe that you said yes to this. After everything he‘d done to you, you want to sit in a room together with him?!“

Your were sitting together with your big Brother Finn in his car as he was driving you to Scott’s house. After you told him about your plans he insisted to drive you there just in case Chris would say something and he could finally punch him in the face.

,,This day is about Scott and Zach. And not about Chris and me. Besides he said that Chris knows that I‘m coming and we both probably will ignore each other the whole evening.“

Finn sighed as you suddenly felt his large hand move over to grab your smaller hand and squeeze it lightly.

,,I‘m just worried about you that‘s all. It‘s your life and you can do whatever you want. All I want you is to be happy.“

You turned your head towards the window and watched all the trees and houses passing by until you reached Scott and Zachs home.

,,If you need me just call and I‘ll be here as fast as possible.“

You gave him a small kiss to his cheek as you nodded and stepped outside of the car, heading over to the huge door. Before you could even press knock it was already opened and Scott welcomed you with a huge grin on his face.

,,Y/N! I‘m so happy that you‘re here. Come in!“

He moved away so that you could step inside. The smell of a barbecue went through your nostrils and as you followed him to the garden it only got stronger till you saw Zach standing in front of the grill, wearing an apron that said Best fiancé #1

,,Well hello there!“ she said as soon as he saw you, giving you a quick hug before turning back to the burger patties on the grill.

,,Your mother is probably in the kitchen right? I‘ll go and greet her real quick.“

Scott nodded as he watched you head back inside to the kitchen and indeed there was Lisa standing together with your sisters in law Shanna and Carly, preparing the salads.

,,Oh my god! Y/N!“ Carly shouted as soon as she spotted you, jogging over to you and embracing you in a tight hug.

,,How are you doing love? We haven‘t seen you in ages!“ Lisa and Shanna were the next ones to give you a hug as you leaned against the kitchen counter a small smile playing around your lips.

You loved Chris family so much because the second he bought you home with him to introduce you as his new girlfriend they treated you like you were already a part of the family.

All of you kept chatting about your job and what you did the past five months after where you moved out and got yourself your own apartment.

,,I‘ll head to the bathroom real quick.“

You walked upstairs walking through the long hallway as you suddenly heard a voice that was just too familiar to not know immediately who it was.

Slowly you stepped over to the guest room and peeked through the small gap between the door and the doorframe to see Chris sitting with his niece Stella on the floor, playing with her Barbie dolls.

,,No uncle Chris! She can‘t wear the red t-Shirt. She has pink hair it won‘t match!“ the little girl shouted as she grabbed the doll from her uncles hand and removed the shirt that he just had put on her.

,,Well I thought it really suited her but you‘re the future fashion designer.“

Chris chuckle filled the room with happiness and you felt your heart flutter all over again. You loved his laugh and seeing him together with his little niece made a small smile appear on your lips.

You were so focused watching them play together that you did not notice how you leaned more against the doorframe, causing the door to open up completely.

,,Aunt Y/N!“ Stella jumped up and ran into your arms, hugging you tightly. She was always really clingy when you were around and always used to draw you pictures or craft you some small gift.

,,Stella why don‘t you go downstairs and get that little surprise that grandma promised you today.“

The little girl grinned happily and ran downstairs,leaving you and Chris alone in the guest room.

,,What are you doing here?“ he asked with his eyebrow raised a little bit and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

,,Scott invited me. I thought you knew that I would come.“

,,Does this look like the face of someone who knew that his ex girlfriend would join their family dinner?“

He walked past you as you felt the rage building up in your body. How could he behave like that even after 5 months and treat you like total shit.

,,So you‘re just going to ignore me the whole evening? Do you really think I wanted to come here and see your face after everything that happened? Why can‘t you behave like an adult for once and pretend that everything is fine. Do it for your brother if he means something to you!“

You left Chris in the hallway, walking downstairs where everyone was already waiting for you. They gathered around the table as you saw Scott pat the chair next to you wanting you to sit next down next to him.

,,Why did you lie to me saying Chris knew that I would be here today?“

You whispered into Scott’s ear as he grabbed your hand and looked at you with pretty guilty facial expression.

,,I‘m sorry. I knew you wouldn‘t come so I lied to you...I really wanted to have you here with us.“

You sighed and turned back to the table to start eating like everyone else did. Chris was sitting a few chairs away from you, talking to his father and his mother his gaze sometimes meeting yours.

*3 years ago*

,,I‘m so exited for the two of you!“

Lisa stood in front you as Chris had his arms wrapped around your body, pressing you against his chest.

,,I can‘t believe we‘re finally doing this. After all these years it will finally be happening.“ Chris placed a kiss to your cheek as you heard his father calling for his mother and she left the two of you alone in the kitchen of their house.

,,Do you have any idea how much I love you?“ he turned you around and made you look into his beautiful eyes by holding your face in his big hands.

,,Mhhh I don‘t know. Why don‘t you show me?“

A huge grin appeared on his face as he pulled you closer and kissed you with all the passion he had. There was something about Chris kisses that made you long for more every time he pulled away.

Even after your marriage he made your legs jiggle every single time and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. He was the greatest man you could ever wish for and you felt that this was made to be for forever

The evening carried on as the sun slowly set and you were sitting together with Carly on the bench in the back of the garden drinking a glass of wine together.

,,You still love him don‘t you?“ she suddenly asked and caught you staring at Chris again who was playing football with his nephew Miles.

,,I don‘t really know what I feel to be honest. The last couple of months just had been horrible for me.“

,,Y/N I‘ve known you for a couple of years now and I can tell that there is more that is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?“

You took a zip of your wine staring into the distance, just shaking your head. You were so in thoughts that you did not notice that Chris walked over to the two of you with his hands in his pockets.

,,Y/N can I talk to you for a second?“

Part 3

Taglist: (if you want to be added let me know)

@auroraevans @xcevans @iheartsebastianstan @rororo06 @mrspeacem1nusone @tacohead13 @ladythena

#chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #chris evans #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans angst #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n

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angelisverba · 5 years ago

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golden

in which y/n’s life is dark, but the fae king sees she’s golden.

word count: 12k

pairing: y/n and the Fae King, Harry

warnings: allusion to suicidal thoughts, angst, & a very sad reader.

note: This is my fic for the #FineLineFicChallenge that @hsogolden is hosting. I submitted for Golden! Enjoy :)

It was a known fact, that one isn’t to mess with the Fae.

Don’t try to communicate with them.

Don’t try to find them.

Don’t do anything with them.

Masters of twisting the truth because they cannot tell lies, the ethereal beings were dangerous in the sense that they cared not for anything but their own interest. If they wanted your lover, they would do everything to take them from you.

But y/n wasn’t one to listen to the rules.

Especially one that promised her a better life, at no cost other than to seek it.

Her life wasn’t exactly shit, but it also wasn’t enjoyable. It was bland. And, to put it straight, lonely.

She had no family, and no friends or lovers. Life had made surviving her number one priority, and bouncing from job to job her favorite hobby. The girl lived in an apartment that had her feeling like a heroin addict, and she’d never had a dose of drugs in her life that wasn’t Tylenol. And, well, she had the looks of one; a feral, dead look in her eye accompanied with a malnourished body from eating what her pocket change allowed her to: ramen noodles.

It was pathetic. She had to shower using a cup because the overhead didn’t work, and she couldn’t sit because the bathtub was full of rust on the edges. Her walls were cracked and at night there was a faint scratching of nails in the ceiling. The sink was missing a knob, the light bulb in the mini-fridge didn’t work, and neither did the one in her room.

But, she couldn’t complain because it was all she could afford. Y/n was grateful that she had a roof over her head, even if it was infested with rats, and the cheapest, tattered clothes on her back. At least she had food, water, clothes, and a home, right? Even if it was the worst quality and her unfortunate state of mind made it worse?

View it however, she was done. Had been for a long time, but she didn’t really know how to stop, how to live a new life.

Until that night.

* * *

* **

It was another lonely night for y/n, and those she usually spent in chic bars she would never be able to afford, sipping on drinks and observing. Learning; mentally taking notes of how rich people lived their lives and all the mannerisms that came with it because maybe, just maybe, if she acted like one, she’d be one. That dainty toss of the wrist, the graceful, hypnotizing tilt of the chin that told a man you were interested.

She didn’t dress like she was going to the bar, which made her stick out like a sore thumb in the high-ceiling, leather-furnished, glass-walled place, and she didn’t drink alcoholic beverages. She sat at the far end of the bar counter, sipping on a glass of tap water the bartender gave her because he pitied her, and watched. That last part didn’t really matter because it turned out, rich people got more drunk than people with less money than them-- a blacked out woman (or three) ending up on the marble floors at the end of their outing. Men never tried to talk to her because she always showed up in ragged jeans and shirts with holes in them, and women wouldn’t even look her way.

That is of course, until another dead-eyed person walked up to the counter.

She was a Scottish woman, or maybe Irish-- y/n couldn’t remember much. Only that she talked of fairies prancing and singing around mushroom tops and a fairy king that got angry when she said thank you. Drunken slurs, that were only made more incomprehensible by her accent, spilled from her lips at the first sip of brandy, and at the sound of her foreign tone, y/n’s ears perked to hang onto every word.

“Never in my forty two years of putrid life did I see something like that, and I doubt I ever will again.” The woman said to the bartender. She was wearing a sleeveless cardigan the color of hazelnuts when they’ve fallen off trees, decorated with golden medallions that jingled every time she moved her shoulders. Big, was an appropriate word to describe her hair; voluminous, blown out Barbie waves that plumped at the top of her head and bounced all down her back to end at her hips. Her eyes were an engaging amber color, the kohl black charcoal on her eyelids enhancing them like boiling magma, the reddish-brown shade in stark similarity with the blood-red shade of paint on her thick lips. “Dance with us, to your heart's content, so fun you’ll want to never stop, them little brats tried to get me, they did! If it hadn’t been for the Fae King, well--” she huffed, a jerking movement with her entire body, “-- I wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure.”

The bartender, a middle-aged man in a flannel with a 5 o’clock shadow sprinkled on the lower half of his face, pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as he wiped down a shot glass with a rag. “Sure as hell never seen a drunk lady talk about faeries before. Santa Claus? Sure, but faeries? You must be on some heavy stuff, ma’am.”

Y/n was staring into the center of her glass, watching the water ripple, strangely comforted by the slow movement of the liquid; her fingers tapped rhythmically at the ridges molded into the edges of the cup. It looked as if she wasn’t paying attention, with eyes cast downwards, but every inch of her was standing on edge, eager for a story. Essentially, this was the reason why she came to these bars when she felt like it, to catch a story; be entertained. Her own life wasn’t enough, she needed more, even if it didn’t belong to her.

“Aye, lassie!” shouted the woman, lifting her glass with a pointed finger towards the lonely girl at the other end of the bar.

At her loud exclamation, y/n glanced up to see what was the cause of the remark, and found the woman looking at her with a peculiar, interested look in her eye. Y/n twisted to look behind her, oblivious that the woman’s true subject was her. Expecting someone to be standing where the woman pointed, she returned to her original position, confused.

“Lassie, it’s you I’m talkin’ to, listen to this tube, says faeries aren’t real. You believe me don’t you?��

Because the feeling of humor was so scarce in her life, it had turned into a strange and foreign feeling rendering her useless in how to react-- and while y/n found the woman humorous in her drunken ramblings, she wasn’t quite sure how to express it. A wormy smile played on her lips as she nodded her response, the bartender throwing her a bewildered look because it was the first time he’d seen her interact with anyone other than him.

“Well den, I guess you’ll listen to me, won't you? I’ve gotto tell sumone or I’ll go radge.” The woman throws her head back and finishes what’s left of her drink, wiggling two fingers at the bartender to signal: she wants another. Y/n watches from her seat as the lady hops off her seat, one hand on the counter to keep her standing as she wobbles over in her direction; the medallions on her cardigan tinkling with every swish of her hips. When she stood, the dull heels of her knee high boots slapped against the sleek floor, the noise making y/n jump.

“Listen, here,” she sat on the empty bar stool next to y/n with a labored huff, “don’t you ever go walking round the woods on a full moon. My own mother been telling me that since I was on her tit, and I should have listened.” Her tone was slightly spiteful, and exasperated at her own action. She made the same gesture at the young girl, two long-nailed fingers curling and drawing y/n closer to her, as if she was going to tell her a secret.

Never go walking in the woods on a full moon.

“The trees- they speak. Got ears I’m telling ya,” The woman’s voice rasped at her hushed tone. “Will o’ wisps are sweet talkers, I’m telling ya!”

Y/n bit her lip in efforts to keep a building laugh in. The stranger didn’t look at all drunk, she was in complete control of her facial features, and her voice was funky because y/n wasn’t used to the accent. If it hadn’t been for the tell-tale empty glasses she kept generating, one wouldn’t even be able to tell.

Finally deciding to propel the conversation further, she said, “Is that so?”

“Swear on the Fae King himself, I do! Told me to find the mushrooms for a good time, coz I was out for a piss half mad with moonshine. Knew what they were doin, they did. I thought they meant those that make ya loopy, shite don’t even know what made me listen to them.” She grumbles the last part to herself, her chin tilting down to touch her chest as she frowns.

“What happened next?” Y/n asked, propping her chin on the flat of her palm.

The woman looked up, startled like she’d forgotten there was someone there. “Next? Next…. Next, oh yes!” Crossing her legs, she angled her body sideways to y/n. “Will o’ wisps said to walk the opposite way a clock does around the circle of mushrooms and I did! I did! And, and it got me to the fairy realm. ‘Course I didn’t know until after the king himself told me. But this... this circle of sky opened up-- like,” her head tilts to the side as she thinks of ways to form her thoughts into words. “Like the sky fell and was standing before me. Go through it and find eternal happiness, they told me.”

Walk the opposite way a clock does around the circle of mushrooms. Go through it and find eternal happiness.

As soon as those words left the Scottish woman’s lips, y/n was hooked. A part of herself that had slowly been locked away throughout her pitiful, self-depreciating life, and, that part of her came to life-- it bloomed awake, triggered by the words eternal happiness. An earth-shattering revival.If this woman wasn’t spitting shit, then… this was her chance.

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Her voice went soft and hazy, recalling the images of a far away land. “It was green… everywhere. And the flowers were alive.” She snaps back into a more solid tone, “They fairies were too-faced little bitches, though.”

Y/n nodded, noting and agreeing. “Tell me more.”

Needing to further probing, the tales continued. “They tried to get me to eat, to dance. And I nearly did, you know? I would have, had it not been for the king… I’d be dead.” The bartender slid a glass their way, a manicured hand reaching to catch it without turning to look at it. “He saved me from them. He apologized for his subjects actions, even housed me for the night, and escorted me out the next day. Mentioned something about…” Her head cocked, eyes squinting. “A star telling him not to wipe fairy dust against my forehead to make me think it was just a dream.”

Someone in the distance dropped a glass, and a shattering noise was heard; reduced to a meager tinkle. The bartender whipped his towel in anger, and went to see what the fuss was about.

“He was truly… well I can’t even explain it. You’d have to see it with y’own eyes.”

Y/n tapped her forefinger on the plushy center of her lips three times before saying, “And, what exactly do I have to do to see it with my own eyes?”

The question simmered in unknown waters while the woman registered what y/n had asked. It was clear; the transition of her eyes going from unfocused and dazed to serious.

“Why, lass, would you want to find those piece of shites?” Her head bobbled. “After I just-”

“I just wanted to hear you tell the story, that’s all.” Y/n shot to respond, set on getting the stranger to tell her how to get to the fairy realm. Every atom in her buzzed with friction against each other, excited, elated to have what basically a reason to life again. What Wonderland was to Alice, this was to her.

A rabbit hole.

“Legend goes that if a pure-hearted being leaves offerings for the Fae, the Fae may respond. This is why lil’ tikes always talk about, having dem-- imaginary friends. They’re fairies-- they friend, that is. Fae people show themselves to children because they’re pure. Maidens before their wedding night, if desolate, go missing in the woods because the fairies take them. As for me? They wanted to take advantage of me. It’s process; fickle people they are.” A hand waves in the air, brushing away intrusive thoughts. Y/n leaned further into the woman, lips pursed in interest. “Anyways, my mother, her mother and her mother’s mother, have all had encounters with them after long periods of offerings of home-made foods, and planting flowers in the woods. Slowly, over-time, they gather the courage to show themselves. But, what happened to me was the Summoning of the Full-Moon. And- HEY! ‘Nother one please.” She repeats the same motion from before, sliding back the empty glass.

“What is the Summoning of the Full-Moon?” Tapping her fingers to attract her attention again, y/n’s eyes follow the woman’s desperately.

“Right, right. Fleet aren’t you?” She chuckled. “The Summoning of the Full-Moon happens when the moon is full, and you drink a glass of moonwater from the past full moon. To get the moon water, just leave out a pitcher of water in clear view of the moon when it’s full, that way, when the next full one comes around, you drink a glass. The moon charges the water with it’s energy, and it’ll give ya’ the ability to see will’o wisps.”

The bartender slid another glass, and the woman took a swig before continuing. “Will ‘o wisps are spirits that appear as floating blue flames of fire, usually three atta time at first; one disheartening and appearing behind the last as you move closer to them. They guide travelers, y’see? They lead you to what your heart wants the most-- or wherever destiny takes you-- depends on which one is mighty. It all takes off from there.” At her last words, the small glass listed, and slammed back down empty.

Y/n nodded slowly, absorbing the information that was unloaded on her. Moon water. Will o’ wips. But,

“What happens next?”

“It’s up to Destiny and wherever She wants ta take ya, lass.” The woman winked, her long, curled lashes fluttering closed momentarily. “Of course, that is if we’re talking about a hypothetical situation, isn’t it?”

Y/n was about to give a flustered response, when a man decked out in a black and white suit, with shades, an earpiece and slicked-back dark hair, tapped the woman on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. The woman lifted a hand and dropped her eyes to the floor, directing some but not all attention to the man. An abrupt change in her voice sends shivers down y/n’s spine; the friendly rasp converting into a chilling, demanding scorn. “Tell Alex he’ll lose 30k from his next check if he doesn’t fix this in an hour. I’ll be out as soon as I wrap up the lovely conversation I’m having with this lassie.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The man says, nodding and walking the way he came.

Lifting her eyes from their casted gaze, the woman locks with y/n’s curious, seeking eyes, and sees. She understands now. The questioning. The peaking glint of interest.

It makes sense.

“Play your cards right, child.” The woman sighed, her voice suddenly ages older than she seemed. “Play them right, and you’ll find eternal happiness… but, make one wrong move and you’ll screw yourself over forever.”

Then she got up and left. Feet landing one after the other with a firm stance, and a swagger in her walk that hadn’t been there before.

Strange, y/n thought. How quick her demeanor went from drunk to composed. After that fleeting thought came a tsunami of questions. What was she doing in the woods? What woods? What dis the woman take with her?

But it was too late because the was far gone, and she was left to sit and ponder the countless outcomes that could come if she were to go through with this. For one, eternal happiness. It’s natural for anyone to try and seek it. Who wouldn’t? Especially y/n, who’d been deprived of dopamine for... well, forever. Her childhood was about as good as her current life. Parents who yelled at each other, and at her, leaving her only company to be the stray cats that would lick the tears off of her cheeks; raspy tongues eliciting giggles from the small girl. It was a treasure, what she had found.

She would be stupid if she didn’t at least try.

* * *

* **

Y/n left her measly apartment on a day where the clouds looked like objects you could pluck from the sky; fluffy, white cotton shapes that overlapped and left small sifts of space where the sun shone through in beams. All was shadowed with soft colors; rough edges turned tender, perfectly appropriate for the way the giddy girl felt inside. Floaty, heady, and delicate with a skip in her step. Aloof with happiness and a tickle in her rib. She no longer cared about anything. The latter was true. She didn’t even tell her landlord she was leaving, or anyone else for that matter. Everything that belonged to her and truly significant, was inside a wicker basket she tucked in the crease of her elbow. Food, and a blanket because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be waiting for the Fae to respond.

The Fae.

After extensive research at her local public library, y/n realized how… complex these creatures were. It was no joke was she was getting into, and the Scottish woman has been right. Make one wrong move, and it was over. The ethereal beings had the power to make the rest of her life living hell if she messed up before eating their food.

Eating their food,

was all she had to do

to stay.

Bound by whatever magic they possessed, she wouldn’t be able to leave the Fae realm if-- when-- she bit into something from their world. Like giving your soul to the devil, but instead it was faeries who pranced in delight, not flames. This promise, this reward had restored something in y/n that hadn’t been there in years. Child-like glee, innocence, purity. Call it what you want. But it was there; a fresh sprite in her soul. Restoration of a youthful essence.

But it was there, and it was back twice as strong as when it previously existed in her. Ignited by the words she drank from her computer screen; early morning rises to the library, and late night walks home after closing time fueled her through two months. The first, she dedicated to attaining a jar of moon-charged water.

There was a mason jar in her cabinet that she used to eat blueberries and milk in, which was the only portable-type cup she had. The night before a full moon, she filled it with tap water, and set it on her window sill. For the first three hours into the dark, y/n watched the moonlight dance in the water like the aurora borealis. Her eyes would focus and unfocus with possibilities of her future; the possibilities of her eternal future extending from the tips of her toes like the yellow brick road. Images of dewy meadows and heart-shaped ponds full of lilies flooded her mind. Willow trees and flowers to make flower crowns and tea out of. She wanted it. Wanted to live among the Fae, and wander aimlessly with beauty and prose.

She yearned for it.

Y/n woke the next day with a jar of... water. It didn’t look any different then from when she poured it into the cup, other than the fact that the glass was dewy from the cold of the night. Her fingerprints decorated the sides where she gripped it, and after bringing it up to her eyes for closer inspection, she set it on her pillow, and left for the library.

Her seek of Fae knowledge continued, with more vigor now that she’d acquired the water. Everyday consisted of books, online pages, audiobooks; anything she found she ate up like she was starving for it.

And in some ways, she was.

Swallowing more that could fit in her mouth, y/n came to learn that the Fae weren’t exactly the comforting go-lucky deities she’d come to perceive them as. Beautiful, sure, but not all of them. And certainly not sweet.

Anything, but sweet. Y/n found that faeries were actually formidable creatures that enjoyed watching trouble develop. Legend has it, that the Fae were those caught in the in-between land at the time God shut the gates of heaven, and Lucifer trapped demons in hell. They could be angels or demons; fallen angels, outcasts, forgotten on the human plane. Belief in angelic behavior is reported, but lesser than the haunting actions, or bewitching incidents. It was a blind treasure hunt, the one she was getting herself into.

However, it she wouldn’t let that stop her. In some ways, she felt entitled to an explanation, a slice of truth; and answer. It would be an act of sadism to derive her of euphoria after she’d lived so, so shitty. She owes it to herself to seek them out.

Even if they could haunt her forever, take her first born, and or make her dance until her feet were reduced to stubs, she needed to look. Anything would be better than her reality.

Her adventure started with the seek of Rowan trees, sacred trees commonly associated with the Seelie court, the lesser malicious group of fairies. If... her expectations are even a fraction real, then she’s set. Good to go. Safe.

Or at least, once she found them she would be safe. The woods before sunset were enchanting, with golden tones littering the leaves and bark with glittering light. Pieces of peach-colored sky peeking through the empty spaces in the tree canopy, shadows dancing on her skin with every giddy step she took. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, only that she was looking for the Rowan trees, and the increasing amount of flowers was a good sign (according to the internet). It had been about an hour since she went off the set trail, the ground growing more unleveled with each step. Squirrels and rabbit would scurry across her way every time a branch cracked underneath her feet, and since her eyes were set on the shrubby part of the trees-- looking for the tell-tale red berries of the trees she was looking for-- the furry animals skittered more often than nought.

Slowly, the sun snuggled deep in the horizon, and the remaining light shifted to created harshly shadowed edges on the trees. This prompted y/n to panic, her searching eyes growing faster in their movements. No, no, no, it couldn’t be dark yet. She hadn’t found the trees yet. It would be dark with....

With no light to light her way.

Light. Small flames of blue light, was what the Scottish woman said the Will ‘o wisps were. And to see them, all she had to do is drink the moon water.

The moon water that was in her wicker basket.

With the last of the sun floating away, y/n hurried to flip open the top of her basket, deft fingers dipping in to wrap around the cool mason jar. She screwed it open, lifting it to her lips and taking two generous mouthfuls of the water. She needed to sip at it cautiously, because the offering acceptance took time, and she’d need more than one night to work this out.

To find her way back to whatever spot the spirits took her, she’d need the water. There would be no waiting at the gates of the realm, given that the faeries were suspicious creatures, and it would take time for them to judge and be comfortable around her; deem her a pure maiden at heart. Hovering in the area where she placed her gift would jeopardize any chance at them accepting, or even considering her entrance into the realm

She would have to be patient. And she would be.

Y/n was full of buzzing energy and she let her eyes adjust to the growing darkness. The sun had gone down completely. The trees reduced to smeared shadows and mysterious shapes. Her skin was victim to a crisper kind of air- the cold having a sharper edge to it in the absence of sun. The moon shone brightly, she could see it through the same spaces where the sun had shown through; a milky-white face in the sky, frozen mid-yawn, and though her light was strong, it wasn’t enough to penetrate through the wood’s thick roof of leaves.

The path space that formed in the gaps of the trees, was cloaked in a pitch blanket, general figures of branches and trees ghosting in her squinted line of vision. Shivering, she shrugged the quilt she carried onto her shoulders, and it was when huddled into herself when she heard the first whisper.

We hear you.

It was one voice; one whisper. And hundreds resonating behind it. A small, shy, wispy call out to her, sounding as if it were right at the lobe of her ear.

Y/n is startled, and she jumps, clutching her fists tighter towards her chest, the basket digging into her hip and chafing on the skin in the crook of her elbow, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it because holy shit it’s happening.

Often reported, the wisps whisper or make high pitched whirring noises to catch the attention of the traveler. This was it. What she was hearing, was the calling. The will o’ wisps.

Her head whipped wildly from side to side, searching for the hovering blue and it’s incandescence. Eyes wide with seeking fervor, lips parted as puffs of air left her lips when her chest came down, y/n felt a rush of adrenaline course through her spine.

“Who can hear me?”

Suddenly, a flashing burst of electric blue color appeared in the distance, about 10 steps away from her current position. She gasped at the sudden outbreak, her eyes stretching to their maximum diameter. All the inklings of doubt that had seeded themselves in her break uprooted and flew in the wind; gone. Real. It was all real.

And she was doing it. She was helping herself. Providing to her soul what she couldn’t for years: happiness. The mere appearance of these spheres entities sent a buzz of ecstasy to the center of her core because they were real and she was really doing this.

I can

Three chants of ‘I can’ tinkled, one after the other, appearing with every she took towards the spirit. Her knees shook slightly, goosebumps prickling on her knees with every movement. Eerily, branches crack underneath the soles of her shoes, and she can feel the dispersion of energy against her feet when the wood cracks. With the lack of sun, and how she’s so hypnotized by the will o’ wisps, she doesn’t see the thick hump of tree root sticking out from the ground, the tip of her shoe catching on it and causing her to fall fly forward and dig her nose in the dirt. The basket gets crushed between the dirt and her hip, the abrupt and uncontrolled pressure eliciting a pained yelp from her. Her hand comes out stiffly from underneath the blanket, rushing to push herself back up and relieve the intrusion. As she’s hissing, the dreamy, other-worldly whispers say,

Oh no

Are you okay?

Are you still able,

To come and play?

Smaller, quieter, different toned whispers echo each murmuring, creating a dizzying, mind-spinning effect. To a certain extent, it disoriented her. But the tender, cooing voices smoothed over her unease and comforter her. Encouraged her, even.

Huffing, y/n dragged her dungaree covered knees underneath her, and sat kneeled for a moment.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She panted, the experience amazing her. “Who are you?”

She stood again, feeling her dented basket with her other hand while she waited for a response.

We are messengers of Destiny

We will take you

To what your heart wants most

Be quick, Your Majesty

They won’t way forever

Your Majesty? Now why on earth would they call her that? Befounded, she walked with cautious steps towards the first spirit, and tried to caress it with her fingertips. She wanted to feel it, hold it. But alas, as soon as her hand got close, it disappeared as quickly as it came, and reappeared behind the other two that were in line. The trio produced a bio-luminescent radiance that would surely stump any scientist who tried to explain the logic behind it. There simply was no other reasoning to the phenomenon, other than it was magic.

She knew that. Could feel the altered tensions in the proximity of the will ‘o wisps, calmer and still where they were. Beats of her heart pounded where her tongue lay, dry, in her mouth. She wasn’t royalty.

“Why are you calling me that? Why… why are you calling me your majesty?” Y/n stared intently to the very core of the wisps, noticing the change of color at the center. White flickers of tiny bodily shapes, like the spirits were dancing idly in their own capsule of light.

Destiny calls you so

Destiny yearns for you

You’re almost there

Be quick, Your Majesty

She didn’t understand. Your Majesty, was a title reserved for royals wasn’t it? She was not one. In the midst of her confused and amazed state, a lineage of wisps appeared behind the third one, creating a long path that went straight and then made an abrupt turn left. Enchanted, she followed in a zombie-like state. This was real and it was happening. It was real because her nose was bitten-raw from the cold and her nails pinched into the skin of her palm. Pain didn’t exist in dreams, and her hip still ached where the basket has pressed against it.

This wasn’t a dream.

Will ‘o the wisps flickered in their formation, bursting away when she came into proximity. The exhilarating thrill of attempting to catch; chasing, is what caused her to let out a squeaky giggle that eventually grew into harmonious laughter. Light, gleeful chortles bounced between the trees, and if anyone were to hear here from a distance they’d surely think the woods were haunted.

Eventually, she reached the turn, and was set onto a winding, twisting road of curving blue light. Y/n was light on her feet, raising them high and setting firmly on the ground. She began to run.

She ran and ran until her throat went dry, her lungs burned, and her thighs ached; body begging for a break, heart high on the drug of hope. Every slight twist in the wood only motivated her further, coaxing her towards her end target of… wherever the wisps were taking her. She was so submerged in the task of following that she was quite surprised when she arrived at a clearing; a circular space where the trees curved around, almost respectfully. The wisps made a beeline towards the middle, where they made the same pattern the trees did, forming a circle around a ring of mushrooms.

It was almost comical, the way the red-topped, white-dotted mushroom were arranged in a circle big enough to lay, sprawled, in the middle.

You’ve made it

You’re here

Destiny wishes you luck

Stay strong, Your Majesty

And then, they dissipated; flip of a switch and the lights were off.

For two days, she waited. The first night, she layed her homemade thumbprint cookies and honey in the center of the ring, leaving a sweet kiss on the wooden plate, and walked aimlessly until the balls of her feet ached. It wasn’t that far, because she had already done so much walking, and the girl was drained from the events she’d witnessed. Y/n settled in an alcove of tree roots, wrapping herself snug with her quilt but shivering despite her efforts. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but she waited until the morning, wanting to make the food she brought last as long as possible.

She woke with the faint images of golden petals floating around her, faeries dusting shimmering substances on the top of her head, and a demanding grumble in her stomach. The dirt underneath her hand was soft, dipping in where her the pad of her fingers dug in to push herself up. Instantly, she was met with the feeling of something wet striping up her cheek, a sniffing like noise filtering through her ears.

Blinking, y/n groggily turns her hear, and comes face to face with... a pig. It snorts when it see her move, sitting back on it’s haunches and looking up at her with bunched cheeks so it looked like it was smiling. Y/n’s jaw dropped in shock. Where had this pig come from?

It’s pink skin was a cool contrast in the light of the late-morning sun (y/n was never much of an early riser), and upon closer inspection, she saw the pig was a he. His nose was twitching with interest at the stranger he’s encountered. Ears floppy, bent and jiggling with every call squeal he exhibited, hooves half dug into the dirt. He watched patiently, inspecting and almost waiting for orders.

“Where’d you come from?” She asked, intrigued at his presence. They both shared a small moment of staring at each other in wonder until her stomach emitted a stale gurgle, pleading for food. The piglet (which he was, given his small stature and clean snout), squealed again, standing up with a jump and walking around in a circle three times, chasing after it’s curly tail before stilling, with his rump facing y/n. He began to walk backwards, continuing until his back legs came up on her lap, and he plopped himself down, tilting his head up with a pleasant smile, while y/n stared at the small creature, astounded.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” She said with a light giggle, reaching with one hand for her basket, and the other to pet the small thing’s head. She might as well embrace him, so she had company.

The basket was right by her shoulders while she lay, meaning it was now behind her because she had sat up. Clutching the pig so he wouldn’t fall out of her lap while she moved, she twisted her upper body to grab the basket, and the pig adjusted himself, pressing his two front feet onto her lep repeatedly. Making shushing noises, she flipped open the wicker flap, and reached in to grab whatever she found.

A sleeve of ritz crackers, that she ripped open eagerly, popping the first cookie into her mouth. Chewing, she looked around for the first time that day.

She was surrounded by much, much bigger trees than the ones she was venturing in the day before. Tall, brooding giants; rows and rows of trunks thicker than her wingspan and arching branches casting shadows on those who walked underneath. Might and wise, but silent and still. And intimidating network of roots on the ground mirrored the intertwining leaves above her, so high up she had to throw her head all the way back to see the expanse.

Breathtaking, is what it was. Y/n hadn’t been this connected with nature since that field trip she took with her third grade class to the blooming tulip meadows. She appreciated their presence, basked in the beams of light that shone through and grazed over the grass and moss on the trees. She even stopped eating, transfixed by the image before her, and she would have continued pondering in the glorious, godly image of greens and brown had the pig in her lap not shifted to sniff at her hand.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing down at his curious tilted head. “Want some crackers, too?” Y/n wriggles her fingers into the brown packaging and took out two cookies, setting one on her tongue and extending the other towards the pig. He sniffs at it, his snout twitching, before cocking his head and picking it up with the side of his mouth. The pig gets close to her, placing the flat underside of his chin in the groove of her neck, snorting appreciatively.

“You’re a cute one,” she hums more to herself, tracing the pads of her fingers on the piggy’s back.

They fall asleep like that again, after y/n had finished the sleeve of crackers. The girl so calmed by the image presented in front of her, she slipped into a light slumber, the breeze and waving sheets of leaves lulling her eyes closed.

She spent the day like that, rationing her food, and sleeping, the pig switching positions from her lap, to her side, and eventually by her feet. The thick quilt she had brought stayed on her shoulders at all times, keeping her warm in the crispy forest air.

Nearing the sunset again, a butterfly landed on the tip of her nose, stretching its wings and tickling her awake. Her eyes fluttered opened when everything around her was lit a golden haze; the tell-tale sign that the sunset was near, and so was the night. The blue butterfly flew away when she took the first breath, and she watched it fly away with hazy eyes, not fully awake and aware yet.

Y/n jumped when the piglet let out a squeal, and upon looking down, she saw that he had remained settled into her side while she slept.

With a smile on her lips as she placed her hands on her back to stretch, she said, “Well, hello there!” She patted his head, and he leaned into her touch. “You stayed!”

The pig smiled, which sounds ridiculous but his lips really turned upwards, filling his eyes with a glint, and squealed his response. Y/n’s heart warmed at the sweet animal, happy that she had company and wasn’t alone. Her friends, she realized, had always been furry. Animals were the only beings that were ever welcoming of her, treasured her presence, and reciprocated the love she had to offer.

“Will you stay through the night as well?” The girl remarked, scratching behind the piglet’s ears. “I sure hope so.” A sad look took over her face, the corners of her lips pinching downwards as a sudden wave of forlorn thoughts washed over her.

She was sitting in the forest, all by herself, following after a drunk woman’s rants because that it what her dissatisfaction led her to. That’s how much she lacked. That’s how much she yearned for. It goes to show the large chunk that was missing, because she had no second thoughts about doing so. It hurt, knowing no one would worry about her, and that she had nothing to regret leaving.

As if sensing her unease, the pig started bucking up into her hand, his snout blowing onto her palm and tickling her skin. The action made her laugh, her first genuine, comfortable laugh at an act of humor. A deep, belly chuckle that made her cheeks hurt.

She had learned to laugh again.

Y/n got up from her spot on the forest floor, and stretched with her arms reaching towards the canopy, fingers splaying and tightening the skin between them. Taking a deep breath, the corner of her lip quirked up in her smile.

Night two was underway and she was ready.

With her furry companion, the girl picked her basket up and began her walk in the general direction of her arrival. It was hard to tell, because it was pitch black when she made it to her spot, but either way she walked far enough that she would need guidance from the wisps to get back on the correct track.

The sun repeated the same routine it had the day before, splashing an assortment of colors on tree bark and leaves, streaking the sky wild orange taints and soft blues to contrast. It was ethereal image, the one she was witnessing. Like something out of a documentary, except she was there, seeing it with her own eyes.

Her neck was starting to hurt with how much she craned it to see the mesh of vibrancy in the sky, and the piglet alongside her had often bumped it’s small snout on her ankle when she stopped moving to gaze. When night finally came, the moon was a partly eaten up by shadow, her color less vibrant that the day before. But it was fine, because according to research, what mattered most was the first offering on the full moon.

Repeating the same steps from last night, y/n took another drink from her glass, and blinked three times exactly, waiting for the wisps to formulate in front of her.

And they did.

But there was something different about it this time. They were quiet, a change from their past fizz of whisper. Confused, y/n tilted her head and tried to speak to the.

“Hello?”

Silence. Not even the whistling sound of their breaths. The wind had stopped, and as the line of blue orbs created a twisting route between the trees, the hairs on y/n’s spine stood on end. The air was charged with... a certain potential that was impossible to miss. A certain static of promise.

Tonight was the night.

As she walked towards the wisps, her footsteps were accompanied by the soft pitters of her tiny friend, stuck by her feet still, despite everything happening around them. Could he see them too? Was her cold? He probably was. If y/n was cold, then he was too. Deciding to not only warm herself up, she took out her blanket and bent down to pick him up, cradling him against her chest and wrapping the blanket around him as well, to which he responded with a cuddle into her neck.

With purpose in her step, the hopeful girl began her journey, following the marked up path left by the wisps. It was, as expected, longer than the first. She had ensured that she was far enough away before settling down for the night.

Nevertheless, she made it to the blue luminescent ring of red-topped mushroom (like the ones from Mario), and stared.

It was apparent, that she had no clue what to do next.

“Now what? Tell me what to do?”

The last wisp, placed in the center of the ring, spoke for all the spirits the first time since they appeared that night.

Destiny had spoken once, She will not speak again.

The knowledge you need to open the realm,

is one you already know.

Furrowing her eyebrows, y/n took a moment to digest the message.

She knew? She knew how to open the gate? The extent of her research only described protocol on fairy manners, what they were like, and what to do in the case of an encounter. Never explicitly the steps to open the realm to meet them. Yet, the wisps said otherwise. They claimed she knew the ways to open the realm.

How could that be true…

OH. The Scottish woman! The Scottish woman had told her exactly what to do. Walk counter-clockwise around the circle of mushrooms.

And that was it.

All she had to do.

Y/n was in the middle of contemplating if she should do it or not, given she had only presented one offering, when she saw the note.

In the middle of the ring, lay a fist sized scroll that was only visible because the last wisp hovered above it. The pig next to her glanced from her to the script, and skipped over to clutch the script with his mouth, and trotted over to give it to her.

The wisps didn’t disappear when the pig approached it, but it raised higher above the ground, above her head and just past that; blue light glowing just a bit brighter.

The girl bent to get the note from the piglet, and gave it a small pat on the head before unrolling the thick paper. It had a very quality feel to it, grooves tickling her finger-pads. The slip, not much better than her hand, read,

the pie was delicious. we are most appreciative of it. proceed.

The black inked scripture widened her eyes, sending a shiver up her spine.

Well, that settled her question. She could, proceed.

And she did. Y/n placed the note in her basket, and picked up her small friend, needing the emotional support. Her lungs expanded in a burning breath, bracing herself for what was to come. No turning back now.

She angled herself so her feet were parallel to the mushroom she was near, and began to walk. Please let me in, please please please let me in. I need this, please. She begged mentally. The girl wasn’t sure what would happen if this went wrong. Her hopes were high, and the crash would be devastating.She begged to whoever would listen; whoever was in charge. Please let me in.

Nothing happened, until she passed her third mushroom.

The remaining will o’ wisp began to expand, it’s light turning a lighter blue color, bubbling out and expanding into a concrete oval, growing in size as she made her way around the ring. The pig in her arms was quiet, not affected by what was going on like he saw it happen everyday, but y/n, on the other hand, was having her mind blown. Her lips were parted as soft breaths came out of them, scared to breathe to her full capacity, watching as the color of light went from blue to yellow. The two colors merging in a gradient shift, the orb growing bigger and larger as water expands when spilled on a flat surface.

Fleeting shadows danced through the portal, like the reflection of birds flying over a lake’s surface.

Y/n picked up the pace on her last round, and a breeze began to blow out her hair. the light from the now door-sized hole turned a golden color; a glittering, metallic shade of yellow that swirled in a spiral at the speed of her steps, dizzying her. The far-away sounds of a child’s giggled resonated through the forest, coming from the golden circle in the ring.

When she stopped at her starting mark at the end of the third rotation, the portal rose higher, higher, higher, and then floated down like a swaying feather in the air, the golden beams of light now shooting skyward.

It came to lay on the grass covered floor, flattening in the area inside the circle of the mushrooms, the gold-lined edge nearly touching the tip of her show.

The front of her face was covered in the golden light, her eyes gleaming in the colored glow. Laughter sounded from it, the sound of music teasingly escaping, low enough that she could hear it over the lapping water noises from the portal.

The pig, still in her arms, began to thrash and squirm, squealing wildly until y/n finally let him go, and he didn’t hesitate to jump in the pool of gold.

“Wait, wait no, n-,” y/n protested, but his curly tail was gone before her hand even attempted to catch him.

After his leap, the portal rippled, and cleared into a calm mustard yellow splashed with... clouds? It was a piece of sky that fell to the ground, just like to woman had said. Without thinking twice about it, she jumped through, just like her friend had done.

Her body was instantly met with a chilling wind, as if she wasn’t wearing any clothes. It was a disorienting feeling of shooting up, and coming back down like she was falling, landing in the same spot where the portal had been, except now it was closed. Her butt ached where is received most of the impact, and y/n groaned as she pushed herself back up, the budging feeling of her basket restricting her arm movement present, but… the weight of her clothing was gone.

And, when she glanced down at her body, it was confirmed that she was bare.

As in, no clothes, no underwear, no bra or panties.

Y/n shrieked.

Who, when, and how had her clothes come off if she hadn’t taken them off herself? She ignored the fact that she was in the fairy realm to cover herself with her hands, glancing up to see who may have seen her, only to view a landscape unlike any other.

Rolling hills, seemingly endless with giant trees on top of each one, bigger than the ones she had slept alongside, with flower-filled valleys and and a crystalline river that cut a path through a hill and disappeared into an arch of trees. Children with elvish features stared up at her from the nearest valley, blue flowers littered in their hair to match the pink color tinted in their cherub cheeks. Brown ad white rabbits alike roamed around her, does grazed in the meadows. The sun was nestled in the horizon, just barely peeking in the dip of two hills, sky the same glittering golden color the portal had been. Everything was untouched by technology. No building or antenna towers, but homes in tree trunks or underneath giant mushrooms.

The faeries were staring at her. All with features a human would posses, but a certain other-worldy-ness regular people didn’t posses.

They were all beautiful, with full lips and striking eye colors to match their leafy outfits pertaining to their niche. Two of them ran up the hill on which she sat, edgy grins on their lips as they approached her with their hands behind their backs. One was dressed in the fluffy feathers of a peacock, black hair slicked back and tucked behind his ears, curving up at the nape of his neck. The feathers draped over his shoulders and fanned around his arms, ending just at the end of his wrists so the his hands showed; talons in the place of nails. His lips were beak like, the cupids bow dragging over his bottom lip to imitate a bid’s curved mouth. The other man standing next to his was dressed just the same, except that he had no hair and his ears curved like a ram’s above his head.

Suddenly, her pig friend jumped onto her lap, and began the same squealing as before. Urgent and forbidding, pressing his rump back into her, but leaning forwards as if to ward them off.

“You again, Angus?” The one with the ram horns said, quirking his eyebrow into a perfect arch at the same time his tilted in that direction, giving him a graceful yet mechanical look. Intimidating and cold. His voice was equal to the ear-splitting sound of a fork against plate.

The other one spoke. “How’d you get away from Harry this time, you littl-”

“Pias and Rye? You best stop right there!” Another voice spoke, making y/n twist her heard towards where a crowd had formed in the nearest valley. Mostly creatures with childish features, holding fruits of bunches of petals to their bare chests.

There was a woman, with curly red hair and striking blue eyes. Droplets of water seeped from her skin, collecting at the dress she was wearing, which looked like rippling bodies of water floating above her skin, the placed surrounding her most intimate areas a darker color of water, whereas everything else was translucent. A blob of liquid floated near her head; a crystalline globe of water that contained a golden koi fish that moved on its own around it’s companion, swirling around her unruly red coils of hair.

“Well if it isn’t-”

“I’d shut it, if I were you. Just wait until he hears that you weren’t going to follow protocol. Now, leave.” At her emphasis, her grey eyes flashed bright white momentarily, scaring even y/n, but fulfilling their purposes in warding off the other two fairies. They turned around and left with their prides damaged, turning back to look every other step.

The woman turned to look at y/n, her face transformed into a welcoming smile.

“Hello, my name is Marianne, Welcome to the Fae realm.”

* * *

* **

Marianne took y/n to the river, opposite the way the two other faeries left, and clapped her hands to snap everyone's’ gazes away, while y/n listened to every command with no hesitation.

One their way to the river, y/n was covered in monarch butterflies that flew from a nearby bush, arranging themselves like a skirt on her hips, their wings twitching and fluttering with every step she took. Her top half was taken care of by her pig friend, whom she learned was called Angus, which she clutched to her chest like when they walked around the mushrooms.

Marianne apologized for the other faeries’ behavior, and led her into a giant water lily, holding her hand as she stepped in. The large green leaf coasted down the river, giving y/n a proper sight-seeing experience. They passed by tree roots that elevated above the water’s surface, and passed through the center of a hill like a tunnel. The golden skies seemed to place a filter on everything it touched, making it look like the water held diamonds, and the dew on other floating lilies were pearls. Leafy branched from willow trees on the river bank reached out to touch the newcomer, caressing y/n’s bare shoulder’s as she passed. She watched it all happen with parted lips, intoxicated by the luxurious feeling of magic pouring over her; skin coated in remnants of glittering water from the tips of the tree leaves that dipped in water.

So fixed on the trees and their giant glory, y/n didn’t see the stone castle coming into view from behind the passing green hill; the river turning into the castle’s moat, floating alongside the uneven stone walls patterned different colors from time, sun, and water, but magnificent in it’s ancient glory.

The girl noticed Marianne staring at her, and in her embarrassment, she turned around to attempt to compose herself, but her efforts were thrown away when her eyes found the castle. Romantic, rustic walls covered in curtains of ivy that grew all around. Blinking, y/n gasped as the lily pad came to a stop right before the entrance of the tunnel underneath the bridge, and rose to meet it. She glanced down to see they were off the river’s surface, level with the top of the stone arch. Marianne stepped off, her bare feet stable on the path and she extended a hand for y/n to grab onto.

Stunned, she took hold of the woman’s wet grip, and followed after her, throwing her head back to view the entirety of the castle. Windows with no glass carved rows into the walls, allowing sun to stream in to the rooms and halls. The drawbridge lowered for the two guests, dropping with a loud rustling of chain.

Walking across is at, goosebumps possessed her skin, and she felt the shameful, poking sensation of being exposed settle in her breastbone. Castles meant kings and queens; she was being brought to the king and she was practically naked.

Her chest rose, and her stomach filled filled nervous breaths. Her pals became moist against Angus’s furry one, who seemed calm and sated with the whole ordeal.

Once across the drawbridge, they were met with an open courtyard framed by the castle walls, a cobblestone path leading to an arched entrance, where Marianne followed The courtyard was full of wild grass up to her ankles, stone arches in the middle of the scene, with rope swings and flowers hanging down, ominously still. A bench centered in an arrangement of statues of men in heroic poses holding harps and arrows, a floating body of water in the place of a fountain. Much, much more attracted the girls curious eyes, but Marianne pushed past a curtain of foxgloves, and led her into the castle hall and her view was cut off, dragged into... the throne room.

The throne room clearly because in the center of the sun-lit room, there was a throne covered with wild flowers where the king sat, legs spread and back against the seat as he listened a subject speak.

He wore a red ensemble, by-far the most magnificent of anyone in the room. Transparent garments the color of cranberries draped on the broad expanse of his olive-skinned shoulders, waves of the material hanging loosely on his hard biceps, a tassel tied around his waist to taper an accentuate the strong muscles seen through the garment. The cloth bunched at his groin, and fell in folds around his muscular thighs and down his calves, stopping at his ankles and exposing his bare feet.

His fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm of his throne, each finger falling after the other, adding to the powerful aura of his character. Plump lips colored that matched the tone of the nipples that poked through the thin fabric on his chest, mouth arranged into a hard, concentrated line as he listened. Eyebrows dipped just slightly, drawing attention to the vibrant emerald eyes that gleamed in the sun that illuminated his castle. Structured jaw that twitched with the movement of his lips, leading down to the delicate skin of his neck, equally delectable as the rest of him.

Y/n knew he was the king by the tell tale crown that rested on his head. A golden wrap of laurel leaves that nestled on the caramel curls that were pushed back and away from his face.

She wasn’t aware that she was holding her breath, until he glanced up and locked eyes with her. His eyes brought instant relief to her, her body uncoiling, lungs releasing the air their were holding. His lips pulled up into a pleasant smile that made her heart leap and causing one to appear on her face, too. Oddly, she felt safe the instant her eyes landed his, the green sating all of her doubts.

“Marianne? And Angus? Angus is that you?”

Angus jumped from y/n’s arms, landing on the stone floor with a snort and running over to meet the king, jumping into his arms and nuzzling his snout into the king’s face.

The absence of the pig in her arms, left her breasts bare for all to see, and given y/n was transfixed by the king’s voice, smooth like honey with a beautiful scratch that was pleasing to listen to, she didn’t rush to cover herself.

Meaning the king, and the subject he was speaking to, had the time to look at the curves of her chest.

An unreadable look took over the king’s face, and he frowned down at the floor before saying, “You may leave now, Rives.”

The subject cleared his throat, and rushed out at his king’s command. He snapped his fingers, and two of the butterflies on her legs flew up and covered her nipples with their wingspan.

“Your Majesty,” Marianne bowed, and y/n looked over at her before doing the same thing, awkwardly curtsying and the king’s lips quirked at her attempt. “I found her with Pias and Rye. They planned to trick her, Your Highness.”

“Very well, Marianne. You may leave now.” He said. The woman bowed and left without turning back, leaving y/n alone with the king.

A moment passed, ensuring the water fairy had left before he began to speak again, leaning forward on his throne and smiling fully at the human. Y/n instantly took note of the dimple on his cheek, and she blushed at the simple fact that he was looking at her while she was so exposed.

“Oh! My apologies, surely you’d like some clothes wouldn’t you?” He asked rhetorically.

Y/n nodded sheepishly, and crossed her arms over her torso.

“Right, well let’s see.” He stood, letting Angus on the floor with a small pat to his head, and walked off into another archway on the left side of his throne, mumbling “come, come” to get y/n to follow him. She walked behind him, shamelessly grazing her eyes over his back, adoring the way his muscles dimpled his shoulder blades, and hating the way she can’t see the cleft of his buttocks of the strategic bunching of the fabric, the color darkening and making it hard to see through it.

The archway led to a short hall of portraits and moss-covered head statues, before opening to a steep staircase, which the king stepped on, going all the way up and choosing the right branching of stairs from the landing. By the time they reached the top, y/n was huffing and her thighs ached from the walks in the forest.

The stairs opened to a hallway of rooms, and the king entered the third on the right, revealing a sun-lit room. The corner closest to the window was covered in tree tranches, twigs extending and branching along the pink colored wall, small leaves and flowers twisting up to the roof, splaying over the bed to create a net of petals around the fame of it.

He led her to the center of the room, and sat one of the chests. She stood nervously, unsure of where to take her place because she didn’t want to offend him. It was easy to do that with faeries.

“Stand right there,” he pointed to an elevated tree stump opposite of him.

Y/n felt the butterflies flutter wildly at the drastic movement of her knee hiking up, and her ears burned red when she felt cool air blow on her intimate area.

“Now turn to face me.” She turned, and came face to face with the king, who sat with his ankles crossed, and hands clamped between his thighs, back straight.

He removed a hand, and snapped once.

Instantly, the butterflies flew off of her body, and out the window.

Y/n yelped, and rushed to cover herself, forearm over her breasts, palm at her mound.

“M’lady I need you straight so I can adorn you with clothing. I’d have someone else do it, but it’s just me here.” The king said, voice a whisper. His eyes drooped, eyebrows slanting and softening his whole demeanor.

Y/n would have responded, said something to protect her modesty, but she was just too out of it. Her brain running on autopilot by the events that had occurred, that she went pliant under his orders and obeyed. She wasn’t even ashamed anymore.

The king’s fingers moved along her figure from a distance, twiddling across her body, and as he did so, a milky glitter grew upwards from the tree stump, wrapping around her calves and up her thighs, tightening just lightly at her hips, and resting snugly up her torso. Setting on her shoulders, she blinked slowly at the finished product, her tongue too tied to attempt a dreamy woah.

He had dressed her in a silk toga, the material so light it felt like she was wearing nothing.

“There we go!” He cheers, another small smile gracing his lips, melting y/n.

“I am most appreciative, Your majesty.” She bowed her head respectfully, her hands coming to fold at her navel.

“It is alright to say thank you. M’trying my absolute best to dilute a lot of the negative stigma around my people, but with fools like Pias and Rye it’s nearly impossible.” He stops, shaking his head to himself before looking back up and saying, “And you can call me, Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry, my name is y/-” before she could finish her sentence, the Fairy King interrupted her with a green flare of his eyes, heat radiating off his translucent cranberry ensemble, licking her skin with warnings of heat.

“I don’t want to know your name.” He said, his voice changing from jovial to demonic. His eyes pinch closed, and his shoulders tense, momentarily reeling himself back in, and the licks of heat turn a soothing cool. “Please, not yet.”

Harry sounds nearly broken, pained by the restriction.

“I-” y/n started. She collected herself, taking a deep breath before saying, “I understand.”

His eyes opened again, and uncertain fire blazing in the green of his irises. “Do you? Do you really?” Harry’s tone is mocking, angry. He’s mad, but not at her and she knows that. Deep down inside her, she knows this is him baring himself, this is him slipping her a piece of information, and she’s grateful they get to start off an a truth slate, but not at the way he’s presented himself.

He’s got no right to talk to her that way, she feels.

“Yes! I do understand! It’s the reason why I’m here!” She fires back at him, her nostrils flaring, and eyes wide. By the time she’d finished with her aggravated statement, her chest is heaving.

Both go quiet, the revelation heavy between them. Harry realizes that one, he’s been extremely rude, and two, he and this girl may be more alike that he thinks.

“Why are you here?” He asks, his face doing the thing again, there his eyes droop downwards like a puppy’s when it’s begging. Soft. tender.

Y/n takes a deep breath, and begins. “I need to escape. If.. if I stayed even a moment longer I wholeheartedly believe I would have died. Everyday was a mindless drone, and it was eating at me. I came to ask for permanent residence in your realm.”

When Harry doesn’t respond, y/n crosses her arms over her chest, and picks at the skin of her elbow nervously. Her throat closes up and eyes well up with tears. But, she’s not sad. She’s overwhelmed with emotion because for the first time, she’s admitted it out loud; formulated into a coherent thought instead of a general feeling.

The king, touched by her vulnerability, gets close enough to her that so he can uncross her arms to stop the girl from harming herself. This stranger, so unexpectedly placed into his world, understood him. She knew what it was like to go unnoticed; to not get what she wanted out of life. But to risk forever? Is that really what she wanted?

“I do not know if this much of a wise decision. The rules of my realm are diff-”

Y/n grips at his arms, her eyes pleading and her tone desperate. “Please,” tears slip from her eyes, and neck veins protrude in stress, “You don’t understand. The past day has given me more than I’ve ever received from my life. Do you know much happiness Angus has given me? Or standing on a lily pad while trees touch my shoulders? Let me stay.”

She’s shaking him, grip so tight her nails make crescent marks in his skin.

“Do not cry, my lady,” he begs, voice just barely audible. “You must understand the severity of your words. This lifestyle is not a situation in which you can change your mind when your heart so pleases. The fairy life is forever.”

“I don’t care. I will die, if I go back.”

“Your species will perish either way. Humans are destined to die.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone. At this, y/n drops in a heap of desolation, and places her face in her hands, shoulders shaking her sobs.

Her begging, her uprooting, was all for nothing. Her hopes were crashing, she wouldn’t survive this fall.

The strings of Harry’s heart pull ferociously at him, his instinct telling him he has to help her. He has to. Even if it goes against everything faeries stand for. He was king, he could do whatever he wished

He bent down, his feet bending at the toes in a crouch, and he placed a hand on the girls wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could see her when he uttered the words, “But, I will give you three days.”

At that moment, y/n thinks he looks magnificent. A curl has slipped from the crown’s grip, falling to rest over his left eye, and his eyes sparkle with golden specks of the sun that slip past y/n’s shoulders and his face. Shadows ghost over the left side of his face, accentuating the right side, and y/n sees for the first time, the small moles on his chin, and the bags underneath his eyes. Bags that come from nights of no sleep.

She knows because she had them too.

“Three days?” It comes out wet, her voice thick with the saliva that had collected in her mouth, and the mucus at the back of her nose.

“A period of time for you to be sure of this choice. A human can go three days without food or water, and I wish for you to have the most time possible. You cannot eat or drink, because by fairy law you are bound to stay the moment it passes your throat. I will not allow a forced decision. This is a choice you must make on your own.” When y/n’s eyes began to fall, the king placed a warm hand on her cheek, drawing her eyes back to him. He needed to know she was sure, and her eyes would let him know everything.

She was sure. She was very sure, and he could see that. More than that, she was even irritated he’d make her wait that long.

“Three days?” She asked

“Three days.”

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exophile3d · 4 years ago

Note

Boyfriend Type : Golem || Setting : Reader/MC Running from Encroaching Battlefront (You can pick if the Golem is running too)

More drama. Sorry! It’s @frostsinth’s fault for making me write battle-related stuff.

M!Golem, NG! Reader, SFW

BUT I’m writing a part 2 for this which will be NSFW, and will probably feature a female reader.

------

*The Stone Prison*

------

Grief breeds self-destruction.

Losing the matching half of your soul has left you a hollow shell. Only in the thick of battle where steel clashes, blood pumps and Death watches eagerly do you ever feel alive. It is the only time you can forget his face, his voice, and the tender way he would brush your lips with his thumb. It is the only time his loss doesn’t drive you insane. And so you throw yourself into the fight where the melee is thickest, where the danger of mortal combat is at its most extreme, for if you die in combat, your soul will travel to the Warrior’s Haven, where you will be reunited with your love.

The enemy front is advancing, and you have many who rely on you. At first your hardened heart could not find the capacity to care for their fate. You did not ask them to follow you, but your lack of concern for your own skin has stood you in annoyingly good stead, sealing victories without number. Truth be told, you would have been happier had Death found you at the end of an enemy blade. Over recent weeks, however, the desperation of your allies has started to reach your closed heart, and where normally you would have charged down the thousands that even now reave the allied lands, you find yourself calling for a retreat to provide the best chance of survival for your followers.

Not soon enough. The tide of battle reaches and overwhelms you and your fleeing army, and soon you find yourself fighting for your life. They outnumber you a hundred to one, and their advance cannot be turned. Worse, they have brought monstrous constructs of stone and steel that deal death and destruction on a horrific scale, each one a hideous mockery of human form. You are in the melee, at the heart of the churning carnage of war when you engage with one of the golems, a towering grey Prometheus formed of living granite. Its eyes are agleam with some vile luminescence that captures and holds your gaze for a second too long as its rough-hewn face triggers a fleeting familiarity, and you catch a glancing blow to the side of your head. Everything is suddenly too loud, too close and the sky pales to grey as you sink below the surface of the battle, to drown in its bloody depths.

An enormous hand, too large to be human scoops you from the pile, raising you up into cool, clear air. Your skull aches. The world tilts as the construct turns you upright and brings you in close until you are nose to nose with its titanic form. That elusive spark of recognition ignites again in your addled brain and a name you have not spoken aloud in over a month tries to form on your lips. The world turns black before you can voice it.

When you are again able to open your eyes and perceive the world, the air is still and silent, and of your allies and enemies there is not one single trace. Beyond the boles of the pines, dawn glimmers and the air is frigid, in all probability the reason you awoke. You sit up cautiously, trying to reconcile the view of an empty forest with the corpse-strewn battlefield you saw when you closed your eyes. Could this be the Warrior’s Haven? A lancing pain in your head and the chill in your bones suggest otherwise. You run a hand through your hair to find it matted and sticky with dried blood, and you grimace as you glance around, freezing as you see what shares the clearing with you. The golem that pulled you from the grip of the battle-scrum sits a few feet away, its granite flanks glimmering in the golden light filtering through the trees. It is in a position of utter despondency, its knees drawn up to its chest and its head resting on one enormous hand.

You know little about these outsized mannakins, save that they are mindless, relentless and instilled with unshakeable purpose. They obey the bidding of their masters without question for they have no faculties to do so. They feel neither joy nor remorse at the fulfilment of their duties, but if that is true, why is this stone puppet so clearly in the grip of some morose mood? You raise yourself to your feet cautiously, eyes fixed on this small mountain of granite in the shape of a man. It stirs as you do, raising its head and meeting your gaze. If stone could grieve, it would do so wearing this creature’s face. Although you have no inkling as to what is happening here, you are at least fairly sure it does not plan to exterminate you, and you find yourself overwhelmed with curiosity about your rescuer.

You approach slowly, ready to spring back should it display aggression, but it simply watches you, lowering its hand to the ground while its eyes burn bright in its chiseled head. It is beautifully wrought, you admit. Most golems are simple tools of clay or metal, forced roughly into the shape of a man, with more thought given to function than form. Whoever crafted this one has an artist’s hand and an eye for the romantic hero. The facial features are simple, slender and noble, and you want to touch them, to explore them in more detail, and see if they feel as cold to the touch as normal stone. Your brain clears a little then. *The battle.* Your allies may still be out there fighting for their lives. Your weapons are nowhere to be seen, presumably stamped into the bloody mud where you fell. It matters not. You can find more discarded weapons easily enough. There is no time to indulge your curiosity. You need to return to the fight.

You cast about you. Tree boles surround the little clearing in which you stand; a circle of identical trunks that offers no clue as to how you entered, or in which direction the battlefield lies. You whip your head towards the golem. Can it understand spoken queries?

“Which way to the front?” you ask. “I need to get back to my friends.”

It stares at you for such a long time that you begin to assume it does not comprehend. Just as you abandon hope, it rises to its feet, towering over you, and shakes its head slowly from side to side. It understands. However, unless it has a way to talk back to you, this is going to be a very one-sided conversation.

“No? No you don’t know which way the battle lies, or no you won’t help me find it?” Even as you ask the question, you realise it cannot answer. You need to pose one question at a time, where it can give a simple yes or no response. You open your mouth to frame your next query and that spark of familiarity hits you again like a punch to the gut. Your mind has warped these recent weeks, dealing -poorly- with your lover’s death. While the pain of loss gnaws at you every second of every day, you are self-aware enough to realise that it is colouring your judgment and perception of everything around you, and you dismiss the impossible thought.

“Do you know the way to the battle front?” you ask.

A long pause. A nod. There is something elegant in the motion, as though the lofty stone form is imbued with an intelligence that is used to courtly gestures.

“Will you show me the way?”

The pause is longer this time, but you know the response before it is given.

No.

“Why not?” you demand, huffing in frustration. You run your hand through your hair again, cursing as it catches in the bloody tangles. You know it cannot answer that.

You start as it steps into intimate proximity, close enough that you could raise your arm and touch it. You resist the urge. It stands some eight feet high and you have to crane your neck to meet its luminous gaze while you wonder what it intends. You flinch as it extends one hand towards you and it stops, that same morose expression drawing the strong lines of its face into an effigy of sadness. The situation is something of a stalemate, you realise. You cannot leave this place without the golem’s cooperation, and allowing it to complete its action is corollary to communication. Your eyes are drawn to the hand where it hovers inches from your face. The outlines are squarish, but the fingers appear flexible, and the back of the hand is raised with flowing veins. Once again you marvel at the amount of detail the craftsman has added to the construct. Meeting its gaze once more, you nod your permission.

Its hand moves to the top of your head and brushes lightly against the bloodied mess on your scalp. The silence is rent then with the sound of stone grating on stone and you wonder for a moment if there is about to be a rockfall. Presently, you realise that the sound emanated from your granite companion. Was that its version of speech? At its simplest level, you suppose it may have been attempting to indicate that it was concerned about your wound, although why an enemy golem would do such a thing is beyond you. Still, it would not be the oddest thing to happen today. You stand patient, rolling the conundrum over in your mind as your eye focuses on the forest edge. Just as a plan starts to crystallise, the golem does something that steals your breath and turns that spark of familiarity to a flame: he cups your cheek and brushes his huge, stone thumb against your lips.

The world is crumbling around you. Nothing is real. Your lover died five long, lonely weeks ago, and yet whenever you look at this animated hunk of stone, you sense his presence. You have forgotten how to breathe. Tears prickle your eyes as you slowly raise your gaze to the granite colossus. He is bowing his head, bringing it to within a few inches of your face. That rumble fills the clearing once more, reverberating through the soles of your feet and into your very bones. All doubt is gone. Your grief is mirrored on the stone man’s slender visage and as his thumb once again slides across your lips, cool and smooth and intriguing, you find the courage to speak his name aloud.

“Andar.”

#monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster lover #golem #D&D

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growup-gloup · 5 years ago

Note

Hii~~~ I want to try make up on, but I dont really know how or where to begin(?) Like, I know theres a hell lot of products, but thats it! Dont really know how to make it work.

Hello darling!

Be prepared to read a long post. Makeup can be intimidating because there is 50 different types of things for the same thing.

You can put the bare necessities into two categories:

Skin care - It’s really important to make your skin look good even after you remover makeup

Actual Makeup - This is what we generally think of when thinking about makeup, but this should be removed before you go to sleep

In skincare, you could have the following:

Cleanser: This is to clean the makeup off your face as well as dirt and oil and other stuff that builds up throughout the day. You use this morning and night, before you apply your makeup, so that you have a fresh clean canvas to work with, and after you remove it, so that everything comes off. There’s different types based on your needs and likes. Some people have really oily skin whereas other people have really dry skin, and then there’s people like me that have combination skin where some parts are oily and some parts are dry. If you have acne, there may be some that are geared just for that, like ones with tea tree oil in them.

Exfoliator: You should only do this once or twice a week, otherwise you can irritate your skin and make it more prone to breaking out. There are some things that a cleanser cannot remove, like the upper layer of dead skin cells, or oil and dirt that have gone deep into your pores. There are physical and chemical exfoliators. I personally do not recommend using physical ones on your face because they can cause micro-abrasions into your skin. But once again, you may be able to find one that suits your skin type. You should use physical exfoliators on your body once a week, though, because just like a cleanser, soap and loofahs don’t get everything out.

Toner: This is certainly not a necessary thing, but it does help improve the overall look and glow of your skin, even when it’s bare faced. It’s usually the consistency of water, and witch hazel is a pretty popular toner, but you may be able to find one that, once again, suits your skin type. Take a shot for every time I say suit your skin type in this post...

Serum: If you have a certain dermal issue, like acne, or eczema, or even wrinkles, you may find a serum that helps with that. If you use a toner, then you put this on after the toner, but before the moisturizer. There’s also day and night serums, but that is based on whatever you are getting. If this step is overwhelming, then you can totally skip it.

Moisturizer: This is one step you should not skip, even if you have oily skin. This locks the moisture in and hydrates your skin all day so that it doesn’t flake or start producing excess oil to make up for the lack of hydration. If you have oily skin, then you can find a moisturizer that fits that skin type.You can even get a moisturizer with SPF.

Sunscreen: If your moisturizer and foundation does not have sunscreen then get separate sunscreen to apply, which you should even on a cloudy day, since the UV rays are still coming through.

Now that your skin has been taken care of, you can put on makeup.

Primer: If you’re planning on wearing your makeup for an entire day, or a night out when you know you’ll be sweaty, or you feel like your makeup will be smudged for whatever reason, you can put on a primer, which basically covers your skin like a paint primer so that that the makeup can have a smoother and a longer lasting finish. But, it’s not necessary. I only wear primers if I have a huge event to go to, like a wedding or something. I don’t bother with it on the daily.

Foundation vs BB Cream: Unlike foundations, BB, CC, and EE, creams focus on particular details, like color correcting, and other details. Foundations are heavier, even the lighter coverage ones, but they work better for heavier makeup. Make sure to have your foundation matched to your skin tone. I don’t want to hear any of this fair-and-lovely, or ethnically-ambiguous BS. It never looks good, and it’s just plain disrespectful. I also don’t recommend foundations with SPF, since those are the ones that tend to create flashback (is that what it’s called?) if you take a picture with the flash on.

Concealer: This is a couple shades lighter than your skin tone, and goes over the under-eye bags to brighten it up. You can also use concealer as a eye-shadow primer, to make sure that the powder doesn’t smudge throughout the day. Be sure to set it with a setting powder, which I’ll explain later.

Contour: If you don’t want to do this, then you’re more than welcome to skip it. But basically, applying darker shades in some places and light shades in others creates the illusion of a different facial structure, but can also make you look like a clown if done wrong. Once you get the hang of overall makeup, you can definitely try it out, but make sure you get some practice before you wear it out. If not, you can just apply a bit of bronzer under the cheek bones and be good to go.

Powders: Remember when you’d dig through your mom’s purse and find a compact mirror with a lil round sponge and a pressed powder? Those were the days. These days, you’re better off with a setting powder under the eye area, which is often too white, but you let it sit for a few minutes to “bake” into your foundation. Then you can apply translucent powder all over your face to finish the skin stuff.

Eyes: Eye-shadows are pretty straight forward, but I suggest looking at the color wheel to see what works best with your eye and hair color for the ultimate wow effect. Mascara and eyeliner get easier to put on with practice. You don’t have to curl your lashes. I think I’ve only ever done that once in my life and that was only to test it out. You can also shape and darken your eyebrows with Anastasia Beverly Hills Dipbrow. Though you may need some practice to make it look natural.

Lips: You should try our liquid vs cream and gloss vs matte to figure out what you like best. Just keep in mind that matte liquid tends to stay on much longer than cream or gloss, and is also harder to budge, in case you plan on eating a messy meal or doing... messy activities.

Highlighter: If there is one trend that I wish would go out of style, it’s highlighters. Everyone seems to love it, which I respect, but I can’t help but think of disco balls every time I see a makeup guru on instagram. If you want to try it, apply a little but on the tip of your nose and cheekbones, and maybe a lil bit on your cupid’s bow and chin for an extra razzle dazzle.

Setting Spray: This is another one of those extra steps that you can take if you really want your makeup to last through a night out, or a trip to the beach in July. Once you’ve applied everything, hold the spray at an arms length and spritz your face like you’re disciplining a puppy. But, like, don’t discipline a puppy. That’s mean.

Here’s some general overall tips to remember:

These are a bunch of infographs about types of brushes and makeup applications that I could not explain here.

There are a ton of YouTubers that can teach you all sorts of makeup. I recommend Kaushal Beauty, Alexandra’s Girly Talk, and Brianna Fox, where I learnt all my makeup and other beauty stuff from, back when I knew absolutely nothing. For more bolder and artistic looks, you can check out Nikkie Tutorials.

Experiment with as many looks as you want, but if you’re trying something new, be sure to try it at home and when you’re not in a rush.

Keep practicing drawing on eyeliner, because that’s the only way you’ll get better at it.

If you want to go for the “natural” look, you can just apply some toner, sunscreen, and tinted moisturizer on your skin. You can also put on some mascara and lip gloss, and maybe do your brows if you have extra time. That way you look completely put together without it looking like you even bothered, because who even bothers to look good, right? We all just wake up like this.

I realize that I started slipping in more of my snark as time went on, but it was a long post, and I’m tired. Have fun playing with makeup, though! It’s actually pretty fun once you start doing it for yourself rather than to look good, because then the possibilities are endless and everyone’s Michelangelo.

💋

#beauty #mod stuff #resources #Anonymous #AMA

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sensenoi · 5 years ago

Text

Rating Every Single Name of the Wind Cover

Why? Because I can. I am not a graphic designer, just a person with opinions.

Criteria for consideration: Must be a cover in a published edition of The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Hardcover, paperback, and ebook are all fair game, as are foreign language editions. Some editions reuse the same cover art, in which case I only rate one cover. Some editions modify cover art from another edition. If the differences are substantial, I’ll rate both.

Kindle March 2007 Edition

Ah, the famous shirtless redhead cover. This cover is a bit infamous in the fandom for being both bad and cringey. This is not good art. It’s cheesy. The shirtless aspect is silly, and the windswept hair is so windswept, you’d think Kvothe was in a tornado. Nice balance with the title and author text, although it looks like the title and author text are slightly off center.

3/10

Hardcover April 2007 Edition This is just a zoomed in crop of the above cover, which is a little lazy. It does make for a better cover image, except the creepy goat man bust has nothing to do with the plot of Name of the Wind. So I suppose they cancel out.

3/10

Mass Market Paperback April 2009 Edition

I despise this cover. It’s a lazy design, and the photo manipulation is terrible. Points I guess for good title text placement. But the photo manipulation is so! So! Bad! This is also the start of the trend of a hooded, cloaked figure with his back to the viewer staring out into the void. It is a bad trend.

2/10

Paperback UK June 2008 Edition

We’re still with the hooded, cloaked figure, but at least he’s facing front this time. I like the embellishment on the ‘W’ in the title text, although it gets a little pumpkin viney. Overall, it’s an ok cover. It doesn’t make me cringe, but it doesn’t grab the viewer’s interest, either.

4/10

Paperback Spanish May 2009 Edition

Same image as the previous cover, but this one is uncropped and has a different plant border. I’m not sure how successful the changes are. On the one hand, shrinking the image of the figure makes the figure look more mysterious, which is good. But on the other hand, this is a bad plant border. I thought there was some corn on the right side for a minute.

4/10

Hardcover 10th Anniversary October 2017 Edition

10th Anniversary edition got fancy, and it shows. I love the ruin influence in the title text, which is a great callback to the use of ruins in the novel and also a more creative and unexpected choice than making the title text leafy. That being said, the “of the” in the title text is very oddly formatted and doesn’t fit the style. The cover illustration is pretty great, with lots of symbolism for old fans while still maintaining visual interest for new readers who are browsing and happen to pick the book up. The Cinder statue is delightfully creepy and much more relevant to the novel than the dumb pan statue from the earlier cover.

9/10

Paperback Turkish March 2007 Edition

Another trend starting here: Cloaked figure staring out at a city in the distance. I like the painting, at least what I can see of it. I find the choice to crop out most of the painting really bizarre. Is this supposed to be a telescope we’re looking through? And the leaves look like lily pads. The title and author text leaf embellishments are quite nice here, but I don’t know why there’s a metallic color shift. Overall, a poor use of space.

4/10

Hardcover German March 2007 Edition

Oh look! A cloaked figure staring at a city. What a surprise. I rather like the title text design, which is pretty creative and a good way to make the title visually appealing. I wish the city in the painting weren’t so damn faded and distant – I think it’s a mistake to keep the visual focus on the figure exclusively and only hint at the city beyond.

6/10

Paperback Portuguese September 2009 Edition

This cover is terrible. I would say the worst, but there’s more still to come. Anyways, this is incredibly bad. We’re once again with the hooded, cloaked figure with his back to the viewer, which is a lazy and uninteresting pose. The image is badly photoshopped and looks like an alternate movie poster for The Blair Witch Project. There’s nothing interesting about the image, nothing that interests the viewer. The title font isn’t boring, I guess. That’s the only good thing I have to say about this. 1/10

Paperback Portuguese July 2009 Edition

Still another cloaked figure staring off at a distant city, but this is one my favorite versions of this trope. The city is far enough in the middle distance that the figure is the main focus, but we can still see enough of the city to see that it’s cool looking. I’m glad to see the bridge from the books, which is a nice detail. The title text does a good job of filling in the empty space of the painting without crowding the other elements.

9/10

Paperback French November 2009 Edition

This is the same cover image as before, but it’s been cropped so that the figure is centered. I don’t like the change – the balance is better when the figure is off center. Also, the title text is way too big and dominates, which is unfortunate because the Spanish cover had such a lovely balance throughout. 7/10

Hardcover Dutch July 2007 Edition

Yet. Another. Hooded figure. Staring. At a city. Wow. This one has a tree, at least. The image is… fine? I might be kinder to it if I hadn’t seen several better iterations of this right before. Because so much of the image is shrouded in fog, there’s very little to go on in terms of visual interest. And while I don’t mind the shadowed, muted color scheme, it also means that there’s very little to distinguish the cloaked figure and make him intriguing. The shadow initials behind the title text is horrific and obscures the title somewhat, so docking a couple of points for that. 5/10

Hardcover UK January 2017 Edition

Ahahahaha. This looks like the My Neighbor Totoro edition of Name of the Wind. It’s very silly and lighthearted, but wholly inappropriate for a book whose reading level is above first grade. If this was a kid’s book, I’d give it full marks. But Name of the Wind is very much for adults, and this cover is way too young and childish.

1/10

Paperback Polish August 2008

YIKES. I cannot figure out which scene or location from the book this image is trying to evoke, which makes me think the cover artist did not have the book or a text excerpt to work from. What the hell are those weird horse skulls? Why is this taking place in a desert? Why is the texture so bad? So many questions. And the effect on the title text is bad.

0/10 YES WE CAN GO LOWER THAN 1

Hardcover Russian 2010 Edition

This looks like the cover to a Dungeons and Dragons manual. I suppose that’s supposed to be from the Dracchus scene with Denna, but the image doesn’t look quite right for Name of the Wind. It’s just so generic fantasy. I also don’t like how the image is cropped top and bottom to make way for a very generic marble background. Still, the image is colorful and exciting, even if it could be the cover for any fantasy novel ever.

5/10

Paperback UK 2011 Edition

What the FUCK happened here? Who let this shit happen?

-10/10

Hardcover Finnish August 2010 Edition

Ooooh, more Miyazaki fanart! This is actually quite lovely, and it fits the tone of the books much better than the kids book cover from before. I love how soft and gentle the painting is. Notice the color balance. I don’t know if this cover really ‘grabs’ you or draws interest, but it’s one of my favorites of the bunch.

10/10

Paperback Bulgarian October 2010 Edition

I reserve the right to change my opinion later, but this may be the worst contender in the cloaked and hooded figure from behind category. I actually had to double check that this wasn’t a reused image from the mass market paperback edition, but nope! This is a brand new cover image, and it’s absolute shit. The lighting is so dark it’s impossible to make out details, the balance is way off, and the cover and title text are placed over the figure (aka the only object of interest) instead of the boring, generic storm clouds.

0/10

Hardcover Lithuanian 2011 Edition

YIKES times two. This cover art is truly awful in ways I didn’t know could still happen. Kvothe’s face looks ‘off’ because the facial proportions are all wrong. The blue mystical katana is bizarre because there’s no magical sword, much less a katana, in the story. And is that a photo of Stonehenge in the background? With yet another hooded figure?! I do like the gold foil of the title and the golden dragon embellishment, but the rest of this is such shit.

0/10

Paperback Serbian February 2011

And we’re back in the safe territory of a cloaked figure staring off at a distant city! All these covers are starting to run together, but this is a new cover art. It just looks like all the others. Once again, it’s fine. The city is a little too distant and greyed out to hold interest, and the figure is kind of generic.

5/10

Paperback Italian 2008 Edition

I do not know what happened here. Who is this figure supposed to be? I cannot for the life of me figure out which character this is. It’s a shame, because it’s well-done art with a cool character and costume design. The title and author text obscure the image, though, and the shadow on the text is so extreme it’s hilarious.

0/10

Hardcover Hungarian 2009 Edition

This is just boring. There’s no information conveyed here, nothing interesting or arresting to attract the viewer’s attention. The translucent overlay on the title is an odd choice.

2/10

Paperback Persian 2016 Edition

I believe this was originally a fanart of Kvothe (correct me if I’m wrong please), but it’s a good one. The tree shadow in the back is distracting and obscures the handle of the lute on his back, though. I wish there was more here – it feels very spare in an unintentional way.

6/10

Hardcover Georgian 2016 Edition

Cloaked and hooded figure staring off into the distance, check. I’m not crazy about this one – the art is very soft in a blurred kind of way, and it reads as a little humdrum. The tower in the distance is quite dull – it looks like a modern office building.

4/10

Hardcover Italian October 2016 Edition

The title text is a little too high – I don’t like how it covers the figure’s chin. It’s not a bad idea to make Kvothe’s green eyes a focal point, and it’s certainly more of an original idea than most of these covers have shown. But the muted color pallete drags the whole mood down. It’s not evocative, just kind of damp.

5/10

Hardcover 10th Anniversary French November 2019

I LOVE this cover. It’s gorgeous. I love the gold foil, love the text, love the clouds. It’s stunning and timeless. Amazing.

10/10

Hardcover Latvian October 2013 Edition

It’s a cloaked figure with a city in the distance, but he’s NOT looking at the city! What!! I’m rather surprised at how few covers feature Kvothe actually playing the lute – this may be the only one, actually. I don’t like the bottom fade, and I think the design is a little generic fantasy. But it’s a nice balance, and the title text is fancy and eye-catching.

7/10

Paperback Polish 2017 Edition

This cover artist also clearly wasn’t working off an excerpt from the book. The character design is so off and unlike Kvothe, except for the cloak. Wall texture looks like a photo manipulation, which is cheap. This whole thing is bad.

0/10

Hardcover Russian 2015 Edition

What is with the Stonehenge imagery? And why is that guy floating off of Stonehenge in a modern hoodie? Why is that one leaf in the top right so huge? Why is the title text red and difficult to read? At least there’s a broken lute, I guess.

1/10

Paperback Chinese May 2012 Edition

This is incredibly lazy and the photoshop job is terrible and generic. Zero effort was put into this cover.

0/10

Hardcover Russian 2011 Edition

I’ve been pretty harsh on Russia, mostly because the Russian covers have been terrible. This is ok-ish. It’s very generic fantasy, and the castle looks like Hogwarts. But it has visual interest, even if the title text color is garish.

2/10

Japanese 2017 Edition

I quite love that they turned Kvothe into an anime character. And he’s doing stuff, too, and not just staring out into the middle distance. There’s so much imagery of the broken lute in these covers, so it’s refreshing to see the other part of this scene – when Kvothe loses his shit and finally calls the name of the wind. Fun cover, good artwork. The red title text works here because it matches Kvothe’s hair.

9/10

WORST:

BEST:

#The name of the wind #kingkiller chronicle #patrick rothfuss #book cover art #books #apologies for poor image quality i was working with what god and goodreads gave me #which was variable image quality i guess #I've been told I'm very judgemental so I decided to put those judgey skills to good use

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eorzeasntm · 6 years ago

Photo

ENTM Tumblr Cycle 11

Round Six: Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, and Legends from Around the World

Whew, that title is a mouthful, but we wanted to ensure that everyone had a chance to pick a story that had meaning to them. We had a tale from Japan, legends from England and Nicaragua, and a whole passel of Grimm’s tales to bring us full circle. The judges and the community all agreed that this week’s best fairy tale cosplay was:

Ni’ko Shae for Puss in Boots

The decision to go with a vertical shot showed off those long kitty legs to perfection, and the choice of an action shot in a dungeon (since this round was free style) let the story fully come to life. Congratulations!

Our guest judge this week was Momoko, the co-host of ENTM Instagram Cycle 2. Thanks Momoko! We did a full on judge swap so you can also check out my critiques for IG Cycle 2, Round Two on our Discord channel!

For the Tumblr models, your critiques for this week are below if you keep on reading.

Judge Momoko

Kota: I love your glam for this!! It really feels like a Hollywood take on what Little Red Riding hood would wear. It’s also very very easy to tell which fairy tale you’re showcasing, so big props to you!! The apples in the opposite corner to you help to add a couple more pops of red to the overall pic and help balance it.

Yomu: I hadn’t heard of this legend before, so first off, I wanna say thank you for teaching me something!! I thought your use of the Nanamo minion was so incredibly cute and creative!! I think the lighting was just a hair harsh on her, though, and we sort of lost all of the cute pink colors on her, but I also thought how you framed the upper half of the pic with bamboo was both a clever way to stay true to the legend and keep it from having too much empty space!!(It might take me a bit to send them all out today, ‘cause I’m at work, but I promise they’ll be sent today

Haila: This was such a fun entry!! I’d never heard of La Mocuana and had to read about it, but I loooooove monster girls and creepy folklore in general, so I’m so happy you went with it!! After reading about it, I think you fit the story to a T!! I love the expression and how it’s half-hidden, and the colors/filter really tell that you’re by yourself in a dark cave. I will say that your hair blended in a little too well with the background, but other than that, yours was so creative and fun!!

Peaceful: How creative!! I never would of thought of doing King Arthur, but you really nailed it!! It’s extremely easy to tell which legend you’re replicating. Your picture’s colors are a little dull and faded, which halfway lends to it, but it also makes it a little muddy. However, I think you adding that soft back lighting over your shoulders easily draws the viewer’s attention back to you, which was really clever!!

Adam: I think your choice in legend was really interesting!! There’s all sorts of aquatic-based stories, and I feel like Sinbad would be a little more difficult to convey, so props to you for choosing something challenging!! I wish I could’ve seen a more dynamic pose/more of the boat you’re standing on, but the soft muted colors in the background are such a nice combination with the yellow pop of your glam!!

Bria: Beauty and the Beast is my favorite story!! I really liked your glams and how the colors complimented each other. However, it is a little difficult to tell exactly which fairy tale you’re emulating without the title, and it’s hard to see who the specific model in the picture is. But I also thought that your garden courtyard background was a cute way to imply that you’re at a fairy tale castle!!

Luma: Your choice for your story was way too cute!! I never would’ve thought of doing Jack and the Beanstalk, but I’m so glad that you did!! I think that your choice of environment was super cute, creative, and resourceful!! My biggest thing was that I couldn’t see your face, and your glam colors blended a little too well with your background, but I also liked how unbalanced your picture was; it really helped showcase how giant that beanstalk was!!

Ni’ko- Yours was my most favorite picture!! Your glam was so cute (going for that monotone look to match your hair and tail was a really clever way to make yourself look like a cute tabby), and the boots!! THE BOOTS!! The way that you zoomed out the camera to help elongate your legs was such a clever way to bring focus to the main part of your legend in an almost cartoony way, which I’m a big fan of. I think that your weapon choice and overall color palette is extremely well-done, too!!

Judge Ona

Haila: I learned about this folktale when I took Spanish in High School. Our teacher was pretty twisted, but that’s why everyone loved Senora. I was super excited when Kat told the judges that you did this tale, and genuinely LOVE how you captured it! She hides her face and wanders the forests driven mad by betrayal. If you aren’t the vision of mad, I don’t know what is!

I love the color palette here. Sticking with blues, and only a hint of pinks, you create an eerie vibe. With the filter appearing almost translucent over you, it creates an illusion that you are actually the translucent one. The glamour choice is phenomenal. In the story it says she is dressed in silks, and this is extraordinarily flowy.

My only real critique is that I cannot see your entire body, and although the filter gives a spooky feel, I wish you could have found a cave entrance or a body of water or something to add to the background. Regardless of this, this shot totally encapsulates La Mocuana, and I am so glad you picked something from Nicaraguan culture.

Ni’ko: If you keep changing Ni’ko’s color I will never know who I am looking at.

However, Ni’ko, I love the choice here! I love how you did a non-human fairytale, where your race could be used to your advantage. I love how you are being showy with your pose, as Puss and Boots most definitely was. Sword up, foot pointed forward toward the front of the image and back hand outstretched as if you’re saying “is that all?”. I also LOVE that your glam looks like the humanoid version of the character we all know; it was an excellent choice to do a big jumpsuit instead of flashy armor.

The lighting is well placed, bringing the viewers eye to your face and the rapier, and the decision to battle such a big enemy was an excellent choice so as its size does not compete with you, because much of it lies just off screen from you.

My only real critique here, is that I wish you maybe had a smirk on your face instead of the blank expression here. A smirk would have conveyed that you are about to kick this monster’s behind, and you are a feline, not a knight. I still love this image and genuinely believe it is one of your strongest yet.

Peaceful: I love your choice of story. Sword in the stone, King Arthur before he was king! It’s a well-known tale, and it’s a strong story to try and cosplay. Unfortunately, you took a big chance and it didn’t quite pan out how maybe you envisioned. However, this image has many strong characteristics, and I would like to go over those for you.

First, your use of this emote or action, shows movement in your character. Bracing yourself to pull the impossible sword from solid stone. You have determination on your face and are focused on the sword. The choice of location lends to the story and is the perfect choice. I would try to avoid the large amount of deadspace in the upper right corner. I know you wanted to get Merlin in the shot, but I think you could have done without him, and closed further in on yourself.

Try next time to place a light on your face instead of the rock in the front, make sure to avoid dead space in the image, change the angle of the image so that its not an upskirt shot which often makes the physics of the clothes act funny, and be mindful of the background (that weird little purple light is very out of place. I think you have some very strong elements, and some weaker ones that you can work on for next week! Remember, you can ask Kat for advice and feedback before submitting.

Yomu: Yomu finds a tiny human in a tree and immediately believes that he may have had too much to drink.

The facial expression had me in tears. You are genuinely freaked out by what you have just found. Your emote here shows excellent action and I can feel the same startling feeling that this woodcutter is feeling! I am pretty sure anyone would feel immediate concern and confusion if they were in this situation.

I love the glamour here, as the story is Japanese in origin, the use of a Japanese style robe helps to place the story’s origin. I am a little concerned about the physics of the robe, however, as it falls slightly unnaturally. The spotlight on your minion is perfect, as the story talks of a shining girl 3 inches tall. Also, excellent choice of filter with particle. I do wish, however, there was a bit more blur to the minion, as this close of a shot lends to distortion and pixelization.

Overall this is a strong image and you do a wonderful job telling the story of the woodcutter. I would loved to have seen more of this story. Try to take into account depth of field, and physics next week. Thank you for also thinking outside of the box and giving us a story from Japan!

Judge Wulf

Bria, you and your costar’s outfits are very well color coordinated! Your location choice is also very appropriate, I feel, since that area of Idylshire gives off a very regal and proper feel. I am a bit concerned that you hair blocks your face! You’re the star of this photo, so make sure you’re the one we see the most of! Always remember: when working with a costar, make sure that they are there to support you and make you look good! That being said, I adore the chemistry between the two of you. Can’t wait to see next week’s shot!

Luma, I admire the lighting in this shot. I am a major fan of bright colors, and you’ve really made the greens, browns, and yellows all come together in this forest scene to make it look both awesome and welcoming all at once. Going with a vertical shot was also a very good choice, I believe, because it makes the “beanstalk” look much more large and imposing, and by contrast you come across much smaller! My main note is this: Since you’re kneeling down and facing away from the camera, you do kind of look a little cloaked in darkness upon first glance. This is a simple fix, though! Just make sure to light up your character a bit more! Once again, I’m really impressed by your concept this week!

Ni’ko, the story of Puss in Boots is one of those that I read over and over again as a kid, and I think you’ve captured a very nice look using the equipment and colors in game! The monster looming over you is also an amazing touch, as it makes you look small, and even more true to the tale! I’m very impressed with your shot this week, but if I had to nitpick, I’d say that it’s only a little off that you aren’t looking at the boss’s face, instead looking through them. Like I said, that’s only a small note though! Very good job this week!

Peaceful, I instantly knew this was the story of King Arthur! Using iconic imagery to give out key details of what you’re cosplaying in a very important part of any cosplay picture, and I’m glad you’re doing that here! The picture is...very dark though. It may be just my computer monitor, but I find it pretty difficult to see your face or other details about the picture. Could this be an issue with the filter? I’ll tell you where all the darkness does work, though: in the forest behind you. The darkness gives the forest a very spooky vibe, and I’m honestly a little unnerved! For the next week, make sure your character is well lit and visible. Good luck!

Judge Terrini

Adam: I feel underwhelmed by this shot. You're glamour does nicely call to an Arabic pirate, and there's the boat and water and distant shore but it doesn't really draw on the charm of the Legend of Sinbad. He was one of the early Swashbuckling archetypes and you seem very mellow in this pose. A more dynamic pose and angle would have been nice to see here, something swinging your sword or at least looking away from the camera would have been better to capture the sense of something more. This is a myth, a legend, so you want to capture people's imaginations like the story you're drawing from. Also watch your background composition when you go for something scenic like this. The weather condition colors everything to be rather samey and the sea and sky are both similarly rippled and plain so they come across as uninteresting to the eye. Play with angles and don't be afraid to drop things from your concept for the sake of better composition. Play with it.

Bria: This shot is very playful, and I do like the use of colors (love them blues and purples) as well as the fountain backdrop, but as a depiction of Beauty and the Beast it comes across as a reskin mashup of the Disney movie. It might have been nice if you had your guy wearing an ifrit mask or lion mask or something to up the beast factor, or perhaps went for a different scene from the story. When a competition is fierce, you've gotta push creativity to the limit and really be memorable.

Haila: I'm not familiar with the fairy tale you're spinning here, but still, I'm entranced. The effects and colors you've chosen with this pose tug at my heart, like you're despairing inside a storm of magic, struggling and pushing onwards. This must certainly have been a moving fable, and your depiction here makes me want to know more.

Kota: I love the colors captured in this shot, and your glamour is so cute! It's really spot on! Taking the picture by the Apple Trees in North Shroud was great to bring that touch of red into your background as well. The angle of the ground is a bit off-putting and it might be nice to have something more to the image on the ground to enhance the theme with more of a "path". There are some fences in that area too that you might have made use of to that effect. Overall, still a lovely shot.

Judge Nadede

Kota Tumet: This is a pretty good image from you this week. I knew right off the bat that you were Red Riding Hood without looking at the caption, so glamour and your setting did it’s job. I like the lighting that you have and very nice use of depth of field that you have going on there. Your composition I felt was nicely put together as well. I do find myself kinda wishing you were able to incorporate the wolf somewhere within your image as it seems like the only thing missing to make this feel truly complete. So far though, to me, this is your strongest image so far. Keep up the good work.

Yomu Kazul: I have to admit, yours was one of two stories I actually had to look up and read. After reading “Tale of the Bamboo Cutter,” I felt that you did a good job portraying the scene of the little girl popping out from the bamboo. The composition is nicely done and having the “little girl” looking at you helped at least guide my eye up to you and then back to her with you looking right at her. I thought it was a nice touch using Nanamo minion for the little girl instead of a lala as, if I remember reading right, the little girl was just a few inches or so tall when she pops out of the bamboo. So I applaud attention to detail there. My qualm however is when zooming out to get an overall view of the image, your foreground is a bit on the bright side and going back to where your face is in the image, it’s a bit on the dark side. I would suggest try to make the light to where it is a bit brighter towards you and not so bright closer to the audience. Overall, nice work.

Luma Lee: Luma, while I like the composition of your shot this week, the bottom part where you are at was hard for me to make out. I wouldn’t have thought Jack and the Beanstalk at all just from looking at your image because it was a bit muddled. After reading the description that you had chosen “Jack and the Beanstalk,” it made a bit more sense as to why there is an emphasis on the tree. What I’m having a problem with is that your lighting could use work, especially around your character. With you in the shadows and your outfit is the same color as your background, you blend in a bit too much. I also think a different filter would have worked in your favor as well. So far this is your best shot compositionally for me, just work on the lighting a bit more. Good job.

Adam Evershot: While this is a nice shot for you Adam, I felt like you could have done more with the story of Sinbad. I find myself wishing that perhaps you could’ve brought in extras to help you with a “crew” of some sort or brought some part of the story to life. I do find the atmospheric lighting of your image nice, I do wish that you could have done a bit more with the lighting on your character to bring you out just a bit more. Just remember when doing a cosplay type shot to find a way to bring out the story of that character more. Overall good work.

#ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #entm #eorzea's neo talent management

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gyromitra-esculenta · 6 years ago

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Hm. Seems my tumblr’s still broken (shadowbanned under new rules or something), can’t msg peeps. I’m kind of, maybe, still alive. Roughish draft of not-really-I-guess safe for work canon divergence for fear!au into questionable area of questionable ‘monster’ erotica. There’s a lot of heavy subjects implied or referenced. Again, this is not Synchronicity canon, and it’s divergence from a certain point of plot so the beginning is slightly edited for readibility, and that’s as far I got at the moment.

He cannot draw breath, he is choking, the hand at his throat holds him up against the wall, the claws dig into his neck. His legs try to kick out instinctively, hit nothing – no, not nothing – something pliant, almost as unsubstantial as the air itself, so unlike the unyielding pressure threatening to crush his windpipe.

It’s torture, and torture he is familiar with, the knowledge how to withstand it until the breaking point, how to circumvent the questioning, how to give up certain information and squirrel away the vital parts of it.

Jack stares into the crimson eyes. His fingers gripping Reaper’s arm are ashen in color, with a purplish tint. Over the roar of blood in his ears, over the angry wail, someone shouts at him in French, then in broken English, the exact words lost to the rising noise. Tell them what they want to know. Tell them what you want them to know.

He is afraid. Afraid for his life, afraid of dying before the conclusion. But Reaper, he fears him not. No, not him, because Reaper still needs him. Still needs the surrogate for that person he is futilely searching for.

Even as his vision swims, Jack reaches out. The flesh of the cheek under his touch is moving, changing, never in the same shape or physical state, brings out a memory of newly hatched spiders clustered together, of blowing cigarette smoke at them and watching them scramble apart and then back close again.

“I see you,” he mouths as black crawls at the edge of his sight, the wet stringy darkness threatening to pull him under the surface and to never let go. “I’m not afraid of you.”

There is a shift in the pressure, the twitch in those dark claws buried in the flesh of his throat.

“I see you,” Jack repeats, “for what you are.” His eyes close. He cannot keep them open. “You are not a monster.”

The bark of the tree with the ‘J’ and ‘G’ carved into it bites into his back, the hand at his throat is warm and gentle, human, familiar, as is the mouth over his lips and the scratch of facial hair. The kiss is slow, languid, and all-encompassing - there is safety and comfort.

When he opens his eyes, Jack can breathe, takes a big lungful of air and exhales it loudly. He is back in the ruined corridor under the flickering light. The claws on his neck are lax and flesh under his own fingertips is solid yet cold.

Reaper, with his head inclined to the side, observes him. His face has a shape now, a man’s face, skin tinted grey stretched over the bone and in places coming apart to reveal the underlying decomposition, spare bristles of facial hair framing broken lips.

“He loved you, didn’t he?” Jack whispers hoarsely while his hand still rests on that face. “He loved you, and you loved him back, didn’t you?”

He licks his lips tasting blood. Hemorrhage from mucous membranes, something he's getting used to. His vision is colored red and blurry.

“They took him from me,” Reaper speaks. The black smoke that spills from his mouth diffuses in the air like ink in the water. “They will pay for what they did to him.”

Like a broken record, Jack thinks, but isn’t that a truth coming from the man reliving all those moments that had pulled him in, the flickers of gentleness, and the flashes of suffering, the darkness, the tree, the grass, the airstrip.

“You have to see him. I’ll,” Jack's voice breaks over the words, “help you find him. See him.”

Reaper’s head slowly tilts to the other side, the crimson eyes don’t leave his face. The tip of a solitary claw travels up his neck, over his Adam's apple, stops under his chin and digs into the soft skin below.

"Will you now?" In Reaper's words, there is a hint of accusation and focused anger tinged with something that sounds almost like a desperate plea at the same time.

"You will, Sunshine, won't you?" The Beast languidly curls around his neck and cups his cheek - sneaks into his mouth like a finger tugging at his lower lip - and Jack cannot help the muted whine that slips between his teeth as the taste of blood and sweet rot spreads on his tongue.

Lingering touch combs through his hair - the grip is light yet firm, tilts his head back - and the claw ghosts over the faint lines of the scar across his throat. The smell of burnt meat and fat comes and goes with each hurried breath.

"Yes, Sunshine, only ash and charred bones," the Beast murmurs seductively. "We are death, we are strife, we are what remains when all else is slaughtered in our wake. We survive."

"You promised to take him with you," Jack swallows against something hard scraping the back of his throat, a painful irritation - familiar - his muscles seize weakly against the intrusion.

"I did, didn't I?"

"Didn't I, Sunshine?" The Beast coils around his wrists - its tarlike substance heavy and oily on his skin; the intoxicating taste of mildew and iron trickling down his throat and the musty bittersweet fragrance of fermented fruits overtake his senses.

Reaper comes closer and the claws flit over his cheekbone, and it is the first time Jack thinks about their peculiar texture, the strange spongy hardness ending in cruel points. He lifts his hand to cover them with his fingers. Maybe, he doesn't mind to be the stand-in for this person who died when the plane touched down. No, he doesn't mind. It has never been about him.

With slow purpose, Jack tilts his head forward and to the side. Reaper's lips are cool and swollen, the tongue cold and slimy, and from under the hood where his other hand found purchase wet and stringy (just like the darkness that even now - especially now - threatens to pull him below the surface) hair slip out.

Mul gwisin, Hana said.

"They drowned you," Jack whispers into the broken mouth. "In that darkness, they drowned you, but you survived."

"Isn't that what we do, Sunshine?" The Beast playfully nips at his ear. He can feel the brush of the fangs almost piercing the skin, almost arches into the sensation.

"Months. Years. Forever." The other set of claws digs into his side not unlike the Beast's own claws when it scraped out the bullet from the inside of his stomach. He feels the abhorrently warm blood soak the fabric; the wet cloth clings to the skin, and the claws move agonizingly slow - continue their way upwards ripping him apart. It's something like pain but not entirely, something much more intimate than anything he remembers ever experiencing. Something liberating, in how he places his very existence into the hands of someone who has no reason to care for it in the least.

Jack continues the neglected kiss even as he hears - feels - the bones crack - little splinters ricocheting inside, the taste of iron more prevalent than ever and his breath stolen away. The lips pressed against his own now are freezing cold and leathery in texture. The Beast noses against the skin of his exposed neck.

McCree released Reaper from the Tomb, a fleeting thought, the Tomb where they drowned him. It would only make perfect sense that right now he is kissing a long-dead corpse.

"Do not nitpick, Sunshine," the Beast chortles in good humor, nibbles in a warning on his jugular.

"I'm not," Jack manages to choke out when Reaper's teeth pull lightly on his lower lip. It's charred bones and ash, burnt meat and fat, the smell of cordite and accelerant, it's screams and chaos. Something wails, screams almost like a human in the jungle of broiled green leaves. The knife slowly scrapes against the bone, the grating kind of sound, as they dig out the bullets. No witnesses, no evidence. Cold lips move down, along the line of his throat, and Jack tilts his head back out of his own volition now, observes the black ash rising in the currents, swirling and clogging the air. An efficient solution, he thinks, even as the cool air on his exposed body makes him shiver involuntarily. "Was it him, or was it me?"

"Does it matter, Sunshine?" The Beast fawns at the side of his face, pushes almost like it wants to crawl under his very skin - ridiculous. It's always there, always were.

"I guess not," Jack agrees and the darkness, wet and stringy, finally pulls him under, into the hypnotic lull of a slow heartbeat.

#sometimes I write #reaper76 #fear!au

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5hfanfiction · 6 years ago

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Patient 743 - Chapter 8

“Alright everyone, settle down."

Ms. Leon walks to her desk, sits down and her eyes roll across the classroom, examining every student in the room. I felt my cheeks slightly blush when she looked at me. I know Normani noticed it and that just made me blush even more.

Today’s classes went by fairly quickly, nothing eventful happening at all. We received a new assignment in art that I am honestly pretty excited about. We are to create a piece, whether it is a drawing, writing, sculpture, whatever have you and base it on your personal life.

Normani and I were sitting at our usual spot eating the dinner that was served to us when Keana and Jacob arrive.

"Salutations friends.” Jacob says as he sits, waving his hand to Normani and me.

“Halloooo” I smile shyly.

I meet Keana’s eyes and smile, already noticing she doesn’t seem like her usual self.

We ended up in pointless conversations about anything and everything, each of us chewing on our food.

I groan instantly when I feel that all too well-known feeling in my stomach. I close my eyes and try to relax, taking a few sips of my water. I think I’m in the clear as a few minutes pass, however, I feel the warm liquid seeping its way up my throat and begin making my run towards the nearest washroom.

I am thankful I was able to make it into the bathroom stall. I was not thankful that this kept happening. I groaned as the contents of my stomach constantly poured into the toilet bowl, taking the time to flush every few minutes.

I heard someone come in as I was continually poured every ounce of liquid and chunks of food in my body into the toilet.

I hate this I hate this I hate this. I thought to myself as my stall door was pushed open.

“Lauren? Oh no sweetie, don’t tell me this is happening again."

I heard Ally’s sweet tone ring to my ears as my hair was being pulled back by her hands. She made sure to have a grip of my hair with one hand as she reached back and pulled out a walkie-talkie from her back pocket.

"Hey dispatch, this is Ally, can you please 911 to the east wing restrooms? I have a patient who needs to go to the hospital now. Stat.”

“10-4 Ally, they’re en route.” I heard the voice chirp through the small machine.

“No I don’t need to go to the hospit-” I tried to speak up but was met with a coughing attack instead. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and then I realized it’s probably a good idea for them to take me. I closed my eyes, still coughing I began to spit out blood into the toilet. Okay, this cannot be good. Pain radiated throughout my body as I hunched over the toilet.

My stomach was tightening up and cramping and I thought something was inside of me tearing all of my intestines apart.

I groan as I feel my heart beginning to beat faster and faster, my breathing becoming heavier, I felt like the room as spinning, then everything turned black.

CAMILA’S POV

“Dinah, why don’t you have any good food in your houseeeee?” I asked whining to her.

“Shut up we have food. You just want junk food.”

“Okay yeah true, whatever.”

Dinah and I went up to her room and sat on her bed, turning Netflix on her tv.

We were scrolling through the titles when Dinah finally brought up what I have been avoiding since it happened.

“So, Camila. Have you talked to Austin?”

I shook my head and looked down at my hands in my lap, fiddling with my fingers. “He has texted me a few times honestly, but I haven’t responded. I don’t know if I want to.”

“You shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve your time, you are way too precious.” Dinah reaches over and pinches my cheeks which makes me scrunch my face up in response.

I giggled a little, then am instantly distracted by a ding of my phone.

Pulling it out from my back pocket I click on the notification from Ally, my heart skipping a beat as I do. Considering how late it was I figured this had to be about Lauren. Why else would Ally text me at nearly two in the morning?

Ally 1:54 AM: Hey Mila, I don’t want to worry you or anything but I did make a promise to you. Lauren ended up getting really sick again tonight. We transported her to the ER by 911. She is stable now, I am with her in the icu. We are waiting for the hospital staff to get back to us with her test and lab results. She did throw up a profuse amount, including blood. She lost too much. They had to give her a blood transfusion. She had passed out before the ambulance arrived. The doctors are saying she may just have inflammation of her stomach lining that was so irritated by her getting sick over and over again with lead to the bleeding. She is bleeding into her abdomen but the doctors are talking about getting her up to surgery but they are not sure what the plan of treatment is going to be yet. They gave her medicine for the pain, she is knocked out now. Vitals are pretty good… they could be better. Her b/p is 100/60 and her heart rate is 67. I just wanted to keep you informed and I am sorry for texting you so late. Have a good night. ALLY XO

Camila 1:56 AM: Thank you for telling me. What hospital is she at? Has she woken up at all from when she passed out? Is she okay? Do you think it would be okay if I come up there? I can stay with her tonight, and you can go home.

Ally 2:00 AM: Of course sweetheart. She’s at Arcadia Bay Memorial, she was just transferred to the surgical intensive care unit. Room 207. She woke up for a bit and was mumbling about someone named Chris, and Taylor, her heart rate started to rise rapidly as she did. The doctor gave her a sedative. She is asleep again.

Camila 2:01 AM: Okay thank you sunshine, I will be there soon.

I explained to Dinah what was going on, and she happily offered to “borrow” her mom’s car to drive me which is saying a lot that I agreed, since Dinah’s driving reminded me of a child trying to stay inside the lines of their coloring.

“Thank you, Dinah.” I said as we got into the vehicle.

“Yeah yeah, you owe me one.”

The car was filled with background music when Dinah spoke up again.

“So, do you wanna tell me why this patient has us dressed and out in public at 2 in the morning?”

I shrugged, watching all the buildings, trees, and life passing by in the window. “There’s just something about her that I know I can help, she is damaged and doesn’t seem to be very open to people. I wanna help her, I wanna help people. I don’t know. I feel like if she wakes up with someone she actually knows by her side, it might help her improvement.”

“I’m so happy you’re my best friend Mila.”

The car ride ended with me giving Dinah a huge hug and thanking her about twenty times. I walked into the hospital, looking around for a moment, I am already lost. I’ve only been to this hospital a few times and it is huge. I walked over to the nurses’ station at the front desk, asking how I get to the SICU and follow the directions she gave me.

After taking 3 unnecessary elevator rides and getting lost in the radiology department I finally found the department of the hospital that Lauren is on. I walked down the corridor until I found her room, 207.

I very quietly slid the curtains over and walked into the room, I let out a small snicker when my eyes met ally passed out on the awfully uncomfortable hospital chair, right next to Lauren’s side.

“Ally” I whispered, lightly shaking her shoulder.

She snickered slightly then fluttered her eyelashes until she stirred awake. “Oh, hi Mila. You got here quick.”

“I tried, hey, go ahead and get yourself something to eat or get a cup of coffee, you can go home if you’d like. I can take it from here.”

I gave Ally a big hug and then took her place in the chair next to Lauren’s bed. I looked up at the girl’s facial features, for the first time really beginning to take how beautiful her face truly was. I smiled to myself at her peaceful state, taking a second to gaze over at her vitals and the medications she’s on.

I take my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through my social media, just checking my notifications. Every so often Lauren’s night nurse would walk in and get down her stats, along with administering more medication. I walked myself over to the small window of the small hospital room.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, my eyes focused on the sky, watching as the sun began to peek its head out. The sky was a mix of yellow, pink, and orange. I was happy enough watching the world when I hear mumbling.

“Lauren.” I whispered, walking over to her bedside.

“Nooo, Chris. No, You’re okay.. hmm.. I am.. I am stopping the bleeding, it’s okay.. it’s… CHRIS”

Lauren was mumbling at first, and her yelling of the name ‘Chris’ took me by surprise, she started to look frantic, beginning to move her body around. I called out for her nurse, and reached down and took hold of her hand.

“Lauren, it’s Camila. Lauren? Can you hear me?” I placed my free hand on her shoulder, beginning to lightly shake her. I didn’t want her to pull out any of her ivs or tubes.

“Laurennnnn.” I placed my hand on her forehead, pushing the hair away to tuck it behind her ear. “Sweetie, wake up now. We want to see how you are feeling.”

The nurse was on the other end of the bed checking to make sure none of her wires have been disconnected as I kept talking to Lauren as she began to open her eyes.

Her heart rate began to increase as her drowsy state began to become clear. I needed to relax her, or else she might go into tachycardia.

“Lauren, hey.” I wiped my thumb up and down along the back of her hand. “Lauren, you are okay. We are at the hospital. You had a bit of an ut-oh. We are taking care of you now. I am taking care of you now. We are still waiting for your test results, but you might need surgery. That might sound scary, but the doctors here are legendary. You are going to be okay.”

Lauren’s dozy state made a huge smile spread across my face. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

A small giggle escaped my throat as Lauren reached up and poked my nose, “boooop.”

“She is on a lot of pain meds” The nurse finally spoke up, typing into the bedside computer. “She will be very out of it for the next few hours.”

I turned my attention to the blonde girl in light blue scrubs and nodded. “I’m familiar. When do you think her results will be in?” I asked, hoping to get Lauren feeling better as soon as possible.

“They are actually in now, I just paged the attending doctor. Just waiting for him to return the call.” She walked to my side of the bed, holding her hand out. “I’m Dee.” The older woman said as she took my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Camila. Are you family?”

I was very confused when she said my name but after considering my previous actions for a moment I realized I said it out loud to Lauren earlier. I gave her a big smile, “No, I’m actually a trainee at the facility she was admitted to, I am one of the main caregivers taking care of her. I’d like to consider her my friend thoug-”

I was interrupted by Lauren’s very raspy voice.

“Cameeeeeeela. Her na-name is Cameeeeellllaaaaa.” She began to giggle. “She is so pretty, don’t you think Deeeeee?”

I laughed a little at the girl that was speaking just from her pain meds, looking over at Dee. “How long will she be like this for?”

“Like I said, probably a few hours.” Dee grabbed Lauren’s left hand to inspect the iv line, which made me realize I was still holding her right hand. I felt my cheeks began to become warmer, instantly trying to pull away from her grasp. Lauren only squeezed my hand tighter, not letting me go.

“Lauren, you already seem to know but my name is Dee. I’m your nurse here at the hospital. How are you feeling?”

Lauren turned her head very slowly to the other side of the room so she can look at the woman. “Hiiiii Dee. I feel good. I have a pretty lady holding my hand. Don’t tell her I said that.” Once again, she burst into a giggle fit.

I heard a shout from the nurses’ station, “Dee, line 3 is yours.”

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

After Dee walked out I turned my attention back to Lauren, pulling my chair right up against the bed. My hand not leaving hers.

“Feeling better Lauren?” I smiled at the girl.

“You are right next to me so I feel pretty amazing, have I ever told you that you are beautiful? If I haven’t then I’m dumb because wow. You are so beautiful.”

I felt the heat rising to my checks yet again at her words, but I had no idea why since it was just her pain medication talking.

“Lauren.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop it.”

“I don’t know why I act so tough all the time. I’m not. I am so weak. I can’t even tell you how pretty I think you are unless I’m doped up.”

Lauren looked away from me now. I kinked my eyebrow up in slight confusion. Where was this coming from? I really wanted her to trust me and open up to me, so I pressed the issue a little more.

“Lauren, do you wanna elaborate?”

She started giggling again, uncontrollably. I couldn’t help the huge smile that was spread across my face, “What is so funny?”

“You are so beautifu-”

I furrowed both of my eyebrows, standing up to walk over on the side of the bed where Lauren was facing.

“Lauren?” I placed my hand on her chin, lightly grazing my thumb along her cheekbone. I chuckled lightly to myself. She was asleep again.

I walked back to sit in the chair that was as hard as concrete, magically finding a way to close my eyes and fall asleep.

I was woken up by mumbles and chit-chat, groaning quietly to myself as I lift my neck up, immediately regretting sleeping in the position I was in, my neck cramping up. I moved my hands to lightly massage my sore skin, my eyes finally opening to look at my surroundings.

“Wait, where’s Lauren?” I said mostly to myself, realizing the room was empty and Lauren’s hospital bed was no longer in the room. I ran out of the room and over to the nurses’ station.

“Um- Where did the patient go that was in room 207? Lauren Jauregui? I fell asleep for a minute she was just there I-”

“Camila right? Hi, I’m Neil. Dee told me you’d have a lot of questions.” The gentleman reached over the desk to shake my hand, which I shook lightly. “Dee left since she is just the night nurse, I am the day nurse that has been assigned to Lauren’s case. Now I don’t want you to worry, but Lauren has been taken up to the operating room.

"Wait, what? Why didn’t anyone wake me? For what? Was she diagnosed? What operation are they performing?”

“Dr. Chueng is performing the surgery, he discovered Lauren did have a stomach ulcer that was bleeding hence why she was vomiting blood. He is doing a partial gastrectomy to remove a small part of her stomach to remove the tumor, he is actually finishing up now. Lauren should be back out soon, but she will be asleep for a few hours, but she should feel much better.”

“Oh, okay. She’s coming back now?” I asked, my heart beating faster than it should be.

“She sure is. Go get yourself a coffee and something to eat, when she is back I have to reassess her, and put back in her ivs to giver her the medications she needs. Give me at least thirty minutes okay?”

“Okay, Thanks Neil.” I said, “But uh, can you point me in the direction of the cafeteria? If I don’t ask I will literally get lost.”

I got a smile out of him, as he gave me a piece of paper with precise direction and I was on my way, I really needed that coffee.

#UPDATE #AU #camren #submission #Patient 743 #series

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shvdxs · 5 years ago

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but you know that this is useless

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? yeah but we do be workin on that

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? not really only when im woken up in the middle of the night fearing for my life

3. The person you would never want to meet? oh you know

4. What is your favorite word? peruse deadass

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? womping willow i want mfs to nap under me

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? yike!

7. What shirt are you wearing? black noodie

8. What do you label yourself as? tired

9. Bright room or dark room? dark

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? i couldn’t sleep because of the thunder so i went on my home computer and went through the pictures from my mom’s camera and came across some pictures i didn’t know existed bc i’d been looking for pictures from my 2016 twirp bc k8 and i looked hot as shit but i only had 2 pictures???

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? i think 16 i “glowed up” whatever the fuck that means from being emo but 17-18 was absolutely the happiest years of my life until everything went down hill my sophomore year of college and then shit got better the beginning of my senior year and then it went DOWNHILL FAST but then my roommate and i became best friends and i got close with my homies from work and everything was getting great right before i turned 22 and then bam shit got bad because RONA

12. Who told you they loved you last? my mama like 2 minutes ago

13. Your worst enemy? trump, i think the only person that’s fucked up my life is my grandmother, however there’s a couple of people i know that deserve a hexin

14. What is your current desktop picture? its changing kitten pictures

15. Do you like someone? nah

16. The last song you listened to? the song that was last played on my spotify was boy bye

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? trump fUCK him UP im SO SICK and TIRED

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? ^^^^^ + (null) and maybe (null)

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? anyone i’ve absolutely babied and slaved over in my life out of pure love that fed off that and left

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) height and legs fucking duh, unfortunately ive got wide ribs and no snatched waist but im model status at this point

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? i genuinely cannot answer that

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? uh my hands are doubled jointed and im oddly flexible

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? facial tattoos

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. i hate sandwiches but say i had to eat one................ subway BMT w provolone with every vegetable on white

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? fuckin rent bc Mizz Rona

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? i mean AFTER mizz rona i’d like to go to fucking europe, specifically greece or norway. or just straight to australia fuck it

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? i read heaven and said i gotta go then saw alcohol. the switch i made was incredible. mojito. i want a blueberry mojito.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? animal crossing????? my rule is no uglies

29. What is your favorite expletive? excuse me

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? if it’s my apartment im grabbing my laptop because i have homework due assuming my phone is in my pants

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? WOW! PLEASE! i beg of you

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! norway bye

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? we been knew death is a homie, however i’d bring back (out of all of my favorite artists) epstein for the tea

34. What was your last dream about? uh i took a nap which usually leads to lucid dreams so i started dreaming that i was vomiting and then it switched to a lucid dream so i was like gross imma spit it out and then i realized i was in my dorm so i was like wait let me do some rad shit but then i woke up drooling

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? no. im not good at anything.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? yeE

37. Have you ever built a snowman? of course

38. What is the color of your socks? grey rn

39. What type of music do you like? i like emo shit

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? sunset

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? mint chocolate baby

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) i dont watch football but bears bc im from chi

43. Do you have any scars? on god

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? i wanna go to grad school but MIZZ RONA

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? my brain, i know id be successful in so many realms with my interests and goals but i have so many setbacks and fears and mental illnesses that it keeps me back but i do be pushin thru

46. Are you reliable? i try to be

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? how far into the future tho

48. Do you hold grudges? unfortunately noooo but that’s because im passive and fear loosing people

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? cat and owl lemme see her

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? dont even know where to start

51. Are you a good liar? lmao yeah my mom turned me into a straight faced liar

52. How long could you go without talking? i’ve gone days

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? rn. fucking rn. they cut my hair so short i want to die.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? so many times

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? of course

56. What do you like on your toast? butter and cinnamon sugar yall know what i mean

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? i miss drawing, but i played telestrations after dark and im p sure it was “spermicide” and i ended up having to draw someone shooting a dick with a gun

58. What would be you dream car? ooooo, okay i’d die for a mercedes SLS or a jaguar F-type

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. i vibe

60. Do you believe in aliens? of course

61. Do you often read your horoscope? its funny tho so a lot

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? X

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? dragons bc they aren’t real

64. What do you think about babies? NO. i cannot with the noise. the clean up. disgusting. yall sacrificing too much to wipe shit and silence children.

#alexandraiscool

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cameron-ashurst22 · 6 years ago

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Fantastical Creatures Weekly Summaries

Week 22

Day 1- Character design brief.

Today I had an introduction to the character design brief for this submission. In todays workshop we focused on generating a character for the brief which was an animal and fantastical creature. I decided that I wanted to focus on animals that where found in trees such as monkeys, koalas and sloths as I am intrigued by their anatomy. The task we had to complete was a series of sketches of multiple characters as we would receive visual feedback on the characters. While also giving feedback to other students in the group.

I found that my sloth character was the most liked and I also favoured the design heavily. I felt like the sloth would give me the right proportions when sculpting to give a cute and kind creature who would interact with human. For the I used round large shapes for the face and body , this gave a friendly aesthetic. I am looking forward to creating the character in clay as this would give me a greater understanding on proportions and structure when working in software like Maya.

Day 4 - Character design

Today I had a maquette workshop where I modelled my character for the project using previous sketches to help guide the process. A maquette is a scale model or rough draft of an unfinished sculpture. A maquette is used to visualise and test forms and ideas without the expense and effort of producing a full-scale piece. I found making the maquette to be at first a tricky process as we learned how to create the armature from two lengths of wire using a barley sugar twist to mould them together. This formed the basis of the spine and could be used to help guide the process on further as now the arms and legs of the creature can be seen with the remaining parts of the wire. I then attached the head with a separate piece of wire, this was tricker due to me not understanding where to apply the twist. The twist was then applied onto the spine and this gave the overall skeleton of the character.

Next, I applied tinfoil and masking tape to bulk out the skeleton this allowed me identify key areas of weakness in the initial armature. By doing this i could see the shape and direction I needed to take for my sloth to come to life. I then began to sculpt onto of the tinfoil and fully flesh out the sloth.

I found that sculpting was m favourite aspect of this workshop as the more I added the better the sloth looked as he came to life. I decided against focusing on detail until the very end and just tried to achieve the basic shapes of the animal. This would then give me the basis to progress as I began to add the sockets for the eyes and the overhang of the jaw. I struggled with the eyes as I didn’t know how to sculpt them so i have taken them out of the design so far and will watch a series of videos to help better understand the anatomy of the sloth.

Week 23

Day 1- Character design

Today I was introduced to a Maya sculpting workshop using both Maya and Mudbox. This initial workshop was to get used to using the tools and methods to sculpt and create a character from cubes and rectangles. As I have grown accustomed to Maya sculpting through the radio task I welcomed this new challenge with open arms. The first task was to create three cubes for each part of the body and morph them using the various cutting and extruding tools to create shoulder and legs as well as a neck. This then became the base of the character. I found that using these tools where quite challenging especially with the multi cut tool as this would. Highlight other areas I did not want to cut. In addition , I did not want to create my character I am basing my maquette and drawings on until I fully understand the software. So I was mainly focusing on creating a character which utilised all aspects of the software.

The next task was to smooth the character and change the amount of planes available. The mother the amount of planes the easier it was o sculpt with the sculpting tools on maya. I found this difficult at first as I had made my character too small for the actually brushes. SO I increased the size of the character and began to try and work out how the tools work. I decided to create a visor like head which resembled a hammerhead shark. While also adding a shell on the characters back. I found that I should have extruded these aspects of the character before morphing the planes as this would have gave me better control and precision when creating. As I had just morphed the plane this would detract from the overall animation of the character later in the pipeline.

The next aspect of the workshop was to import the character into mud box . Mud box is a sculpting software that aids character and prop creation . I found this software quite easy to use as I imported a low resolution version of my character into the software and began extruding the same aspects that I had in Maya. I am looking forward to creating my sloth in both these softwares and I will continue to watch tutorials on how to improve my modelling techniques and processes within software like Maya, Mud box and z brush.

Day 1 - Character design maquette

Today I finalised sculpting my sloth Maquette and it is now ready to be baked to set. I found the sculpting process really rewarding as I could see the shape of the character show through with each addition of super sculpt. I found that the refinement process was the best part of the experience due to the level of detail I could achieve. I used a knife to create the fur for the sloth cutting into the clay to give texture . I then decided that I would do this all over the sloth instead of smoothing the clay . I found smoothing the clay difficult as it was too thin and it would reveal some of the tinfoil from the skeleton. I used smaller pieces of clay to add further detail to the face including the eyes and snout for the face. I also added little detail like the bandana and extra pieces of hair onto of the head. Overall I am happy with how the maquette turned out and I cannot wait to paint the finished product.

Week 24

Day 1 - Character design

Today I continued to model my character in Maya. I found this to be quite challenging as at first I didn’t feel that my skills had progressed from the previous workshop. However I did feel quicker at establishing the bulk of the character with its core shapes. I restarted multiple time as I began to get frustrated over the fact my design did not look like maquette in both shape and size. I was extruding too much and this caused the structure of the character to be fundamentally floored so later in the process as the character was placed into mud box I could not smooth down the angles of the character.

Upon restarting, I got feedback off John about the shape of the head as this was causing the most issue. I previously had a square head that would round off when I used the multi cut tool. This caused issue as when extruding around the nose the nose fold would go into each other leaving a floored model. John suggested that I use a round head as this would best accompany the shape of my sloths features. When I rounded the head off I found that the face was easier to split up onto planes and allowed me to create the nose and its bridge much easier. I was also able to extruded the points above the eyes to create a raised eyebrow socket so the eyes could be placed with. I found that these features where also difficult to establish through Maya as I was thinking ahead. By not thinking ahead I miscalculated the steps needed to create the shapes I wanted and got frustrated of my lack of progress. I continued to work through this frustration and established a head and features that I was happy to move into mud box with. When in mud box I found that the same problem had occurred and I couldn’t smooth down the shape. I will have to go back and fix this by either starting again or watching youtube videos to help my understanding of Maya modelling. At current stat I am happy with the progress I am making as I have grown quicker in process of building up a character in Maya. I also have the key shape of my character with the right proportions based on reference from my maquette. However I am also frustrated due to the lack of definition I could achieve with the facial features and fingers.More work is need to establish the characters shoulders and torso and although this is flat there needs to be more bulk and shape added to the skeleton of the character.

Also in the season I was introduced to substance painter which shows me an alternative to photoshop on how I could colour and texture my character. This was a brief introduction as the main focus of the workshop was completing a base shape for the character model.

Easter Break Week 25

Day 1 - Character design

Today I started my character design again as I was not happy with my current iteration. I decided to watch a number of youtube tutorials on how to create a low poly character in Maya. I found that by following these tutorials to some extent I could better grasp an understanding in what was needed in creating the base for my character. I found a series of youtube videos where a cartoon mouse is created step by step and decided to follow the process along but manipulating it to fit my sloth design. I found that with this tutorial I learned how to input reference images which can better help the structure of the model. I imported images of my maquette as I have not drawn my character out in 2d space yet. The tutorial helped show that I did not have to extrude as much as I had in the previous iteration but by simply manipulating the vertices and edges I can create a dynamic shape. Currently in the process I have modelled the body and the head of the sloth as well as placing cuts where the arms and legs should be. I realised that instead of trying to create the head shape from a cube I could bridge a cube and the body together by removing vertices and panels and connecting them after. This greatly helped the structure of the character as I was then able o manipulate the neck with greater precision allowing a place for the chin and the overall slope of the sloths head. I will continue to work on this character design as I feel that I am getting more comfortable with modelling ing Maya. Furthermore I will begin to draw up my character design in photoshop to add more depth to the process as a whole with a character design sheet and turnaround.

Day 2 - Character design

Today I continued to work on my sloth design and focus heavily on the facial feature I continued to watch the next part of the cartoon mouse tutorial as I was intrigued into how the eye socket and the nose was made. As a sloth has a different nose and eyes to a mouse I had to alter the approach to this area. I found that by removing half of the character it made it easier to create the full character after one side was mirrored. At first I focused heavily on the eye sockets of the character altering them so it gave my enough room to create the upper brow of the sloth. I realised that this was fundamental in moving the design forward as by having this as a prominent feature it allowed the rest of the eye to form. I felt like I can create both the eyes correctly once the character is mirrored so left the rest of the eyes for another time as the structure surrounding the eyes is currently more important. I then removed half the side of the character and mirrored it. However I came into difficulty as there was a gap between the two sides of the character. To combat this I went back to having one side and duplicated it without combining the two like the tutorial had suggested. I then combined at a later stage and bridged the gap between the two halves. By doing this it gave me the right amount of room to build the bridge of the nose as before the nose stuck out from the face . This is against the anatomy of a sloth due to the nose being an extension of the face itself. Tomorrow I will focus on completing the face with the inclusion of the eyes as well as creating a suitable jaw for the character.

Day 3- Character design

Today I continued to work on my sloth and added the arms and legs to the design. I found this relatively easy as I am beginning to feel more comfortable in modelling with Maya. I extruded out multiple times and used the multi cut tool to ensure that the joint of the sloth are fully recognised. Furthermore I extruded out from the back of the character to create the tail of the sloth , angling the tail down ensures that the character has balance.To refine details in the face I used the multi cut tool to create added areas of detail and extruded where needs be. This included the ridge above the eyes and made this level with the top of the nose to keep the anatomy of the sloth. I also added a jaw to the character as the bottom of his face was flat so I could extruded in to create the mouth. I then tried to export my character into Mudbox but the software kept failing , I began to get frustrated as I am trying to keep to a specific deadline for each stage of the process. To combat this frustration I added the headband to the character and began to add smaller details like the hair that pass above the headband itself. I did this by extruding the area above the head and offsetting the angle of the extrusion to the right to give the natural flow of hair. Overall I am happy with the progress I am making on the character model and I hope I can get Mudbox to work as this will highlight any floors in the model itself.

Day 4 - Character Design

Today I was able to fix the problem from yesterday and was ready to move my character into Mudbox. This is after I sent my project over to Adam who sent a few tips I should look at before moving to Mudbox These tips where :

- Try to add geometry to support your shapes. This is a common mistake and is super easy to fix.

- Create smooth surfaces yourself rather than trying to rely on smooth preview while modelling. This will help to (as mentioned above) support the shape of the object better when smoothing with smooth preview and also sculpting in mudbox.

- Try to get the topology to flow, this will make it easier to rig, and animate later.

Have a look at other characters people made, like the Max rig you've been using.

In response to this I went over my rig and tried to smooth out the areas without relying on the smooth preview this then allowed better shapes that I could import into Mudbox.

I found that Mudbox has quite a steep learning curve so watched a number of tutorials on how to sculpt properly and how the interface/ tools work. To start with a smoothed my sloth down from its low poly version to add the details of the fur. I used the sculpt tool to add the texture of the fur to the body by drawing directly over each of the strokes. I found that this mimicked how I had used a knife to add texture to the maquette and it gave a similar output.I decided to cover the entire body in this and then focused on the facial features. I left a smooth area for the bridge of the nose and also pushed out the nose as it had been tossed through the smoothing of the whole design. I then focused on the headband keeping that relatively smooth to contrast the fur of the character. When trying to sculpt the hands and toes I found difficulty as I could distinguish what was the finger/ toes to the actual hand or foot. His is problem I am currently trying to rectify and will work on at a later stage to ensure the anatomy of the sloth is maintained. I then moved onto the eyes and used the fill tool to fill the gap I had left in the design up to a suitable point. By doing this is gave me the shape of the sloths eyes which I could manipulate further with the sculpt tool. I found that I was working back and forth between these two tools to adjust the nose and the fur around the eyes. For next time I will focus on the hands and feet as well as establishing a base for the pupils of the sloths eyes. I want to also find a suitable colour palette that can fully represent the sloth. Overall I am happy with the progress I am making and glad that I was able to work through the frustration of yesterday.

Day 5 - Character design

Today I chose to do a series of sketches around the anatomy of the sloth. I found that by drawing the sloths in motion I was able to understand and interpret how they move and their overall form. I realised that the sloth has a very small tail and not a long tail like my character. However as this is fantastical creatures I have chose ti keep the larger tail to set the character apart from normal sloths. Sloths are very slow and so they were quite easy to draw, the best sketches where those of the sloth being in branches as it shows the length of their arms. I also emphasised the length of the arms in my character design by making them a third longer than the legs. Furthermore , I found that the national geographic videos on the sloths very interesting to watch as there was a wide range of shots. These shots contained sloths from different angles and ages which helped my understanding of their overall anatomy.

Easter Break week 26

Day 1 - Character Design

Today I decided to visualise the concept of my sloth by drawing my character up digitally in their environment. This helped me understand the colour pallet I want to use for my character and also gave me a better understanding into the process of developing the character. The character is a product of its environment, after watching the national geographic videos I decided to see how this would impact the design of the character. I realised that the sloth has a similar colour pallet to the branches of the trees around them to camouflage from predators.I found myself emphasising the structure of the sloth however I foreshortened the length of the arms as the character is gripping the branches around him to show how he is interacting with his environment.

Day 2 - Character design

Today I continued to use Mudbox to complete the texture of my character design. I used the sculpt tool to create the pupils of the eyes by raising the surface of the flat plane up wards. I also created texture of the fur in any areas I had missed like under the arms and behind the tail. This helped complete the design of the character. Furthermore, I began to sculpt the hands of the character, for this I emphasised the length of the finger nails on both hands. However I struggled especially with the left hand due to the amount of fur I placed between the fingers. This meant that the fingers began to become lost within the hand. To combat this I flattened between the fingers and pushed the fingers outwards. I also created a lip above to show the knuckles of the character. I ensured this was smooth to show a clear distinction between the fingers and the hand itself. I also experimented with the use of colour in Mudbox and decided to add a base tone to the sloth itself. I then tried to export the file back into Maya so I could add fur to the character however my computer has ran out of storage so I need to sort that out before progressing tomorrow for retopology.

Day 3- Character Design

Today I began to experiment with adding fur to my character. I watched a number of tutorials of how to add fur to a model and found that it was a fairly simple process. I decided that I wanted shorter strands of hair to see the contours of the shapes of the characters head. Sloths also have very thin hair but it is vastly spread across the body. In addition I decided to experiment with retopology and began to watch a series of tutorials on the best ways to create retopology. I found that it is in my best interest to ensure my base of loops are simple and have equal spacing. This will greatly benefit the rest of the process as it ensures the best movement for animation. I learned from the tutorials that I don’t need to individually place the points using the quadrate tool as I can drag a section out from the previous selection and this then snaps to the model. However I have decided to leave the retopology for another day and have chosen to focus on the fur and ensuring that it is the correct size and shape for the character.

Day 5 - Character Design

Today I focused on the retopology of the character and proceeded to complete the base of the torso of the character. I found this process to be quite tricky especially with trying to create evenly spaced polygons around the edges of the character where the polygons would wrap around the appendages. Furthermore, I decided to watch a series of tutorials on youtube to see what was the most effective way of retopologising a character. This allowed me to understand the shortcuts of duplicating an entire Laye of polygons and extruding them outward. This greatly helped the time aspect of developing the character as I did not have to draw each polygon at a time. I decided to leave the head as there are many separate tutorials on how to retopologise the head of the character on youtube. I wanted to grasp the shape of the torso and found that by holding control and clicking this acted similarly to the multi cut tool. This allowed more polygons to be created quickly which intern helped the overall shape of the character take shape. Overall I am happy with the progress being made and can’t wait to continue on this aspect of the character design. I need to improve quickly in the aspect of retopology and will continue to watch more youtube videos to help grasp further knowledge on the subject area. This will then allow me to create the shapes of the arms , legs and ultimately the head and face.

Easter Break week 27

Day 1 - Character Design

Today I decided to continue with the retopology of the character. I focused heavily on the joints of the character around the arms, legs and tail. This proved to be the hardest part of the retopology process. I tried to keep the spacing between polygons consistent. However this was difficult as the polygons would stretch around the areas of the character making it difficult to add more polygons to the surrounding area. I decided that I needed to fix this further before moving ahead with the process.I made sure my polygons remained evenly spaced and smooth so I could add further as I begin to finalise the retopology. I am looking forward to continuing tomorrow and finalising the arms and legs of the character.

Day 2 - Character Design

Today I continued the retopology of the character and focused heavily on the limbs of the character I found that this created large problems in keeping the polygons consitsent. To fix this around the arms I created a loop around the arm of similar shaped polygons and extruded the polygons out. This helped to maintain the shapes of the polygons across the length of the arms on both sides. I found that this became even more difficult for underneath and around the tail of the character due to the tail decreasing in size towards it end. I found it hard to connect underneath the tail to the torso and around the legs. This caused the polygons to change shape and size. To combat this I tried to keep the polygons consistent around the certain aspects of the character. For the legs I created loops similar to the arms and extruded down which fixed the problems for that portion of the character. I tried a similar tactic for the tail and this proved to work as I extruded from the lower back downwards .However bridging the two proved to be the hardest part as I ultimately had to round of the eyes and place more cuts to ensure polygons could be placed to fill the area. I am looking forward to developing the retopology more , however find this a time consuming process with a great learning curve. I need to learn more in order to make the retopology easier for areas like the hands and feet of the character to ensure I don’t have the same problems as today.

Day 3 - Character Design

Today I continued the retopology of the character and finalised the mistakes around the limbs especially the arms. I chose to draw each polygon instead of extruding as this was more precise and gave me greater control. This was a time consuming process but I am happy with the finished result . The polygons are consistently shaped and there are no triangles and n-gons throughout the whole arms. I then decided to focus on the head. I watched a youtube tutorial that explained how I should start large around the features of the head. For this I started around the mouth first and the proceeded to do both the eyes. By doing this it helped enhance the characters structure around the face and was easier to connect the main features of the face together with polygons. I then proceeded to fill the back of the head to help create the arc for the headband on the top of the head. To complete the headband I extruded upward and then closed the gap onto of the head. I found today to be quite challenging especially around the eyes as sometimes the polygons would collapse into each other creating triangles and N-gons. This would detrimentally effect the structure of the retopology so I decided to make the polygons bigger when connecting them and moving them into place to follow the structure around the eye. Overall , I am happy with the progress I am making and am looking forward to finishing the retopology stage of the character design process.

Day 4 - Character Design

Today I focused on the retopology of the hands and feet of the character. I struggled greatly today due to the limitations of zooming. I was unable to place polygons in specific areas of the hands and feet and this caused me to grow increasingly frustrated. I found the best way for completing limbs like this was to work bug to ensure I covered the area in polygons and define certain areas with cuts. However, this was difficult with the feet as I worked up until the toes of the character and then struggled to create a shape that would wrap around the toes completely. So I have removed the work on the feet and completed one of the hands. Tomorrow I will work to complete the retopology of the character as this will ensure I can move smoothly on with the project.

Day 5 - Character Design

Today I finalised the retopology of the character around the feet and hands. This was the most difficult part of the process as I found that it was hard to create polygons where the surface change shape and angled towards the ground. This caused me to become frustrated as I had added to many lines of polygons to the legs and torso of the body which used the problem of completing the feet. To combat this I removed some of the lines of polygons and simplified the shapes in order to complete the feet and hands , after I then added more polygons to the design with the cut tool to restore the torso and legs.The size and consistency of the polygons around the feet vary as I was unable to keep a consistent size across the area .I am looking forward to colouring my character as well as adding more polygons to the retopology to ensure that the mesh is complete. I now need to complete the turntable sequence and cast sheet for the character. As well as adding the character into photoshop to place him in the photographs.

Week 28

Day 1 - Character Design

Today I focused heavily on the Uv’s of the character. I took the retopologised version of the character as the other version was too dense to create Uv’s from. By creating Uvs it allowed me to use the textures I had created within Mudbox and transfer a colour scheme back into Maya. I found the Uv process very challenging due to the construction of the retopologised mesh. I found myself reconstructing areas where there were gaps in the mesh and this caused later issues with the cuts of the uvs. I decided to cut around the arms , legs , head ,feet and face of the character to ensure the mesh would unfold. On inspection with Adam he said that the mesh was was not flat and began to highlight where I should cut the rest of the characters Uv’s. These included around the hands and across the back of the character. By doing this it allowed the textures of the Mudbox character to come through in Maya as before the character remained smooth.

After that I decided to colour the character in Mudbox. I chose a similar colour scheme to the mocked up 2d version of my character. However, I realised the eyes of the sloth where too dark swell as the fur colour was too bland.To change this I changed the hue of the initial base colour and created a warmer tone to show contrast on the fur of the belly of the character where it appears two toned. I found that it was quite difficult to distinguish the tones around the mouth as there was not enough space to fully develop the difference between the grey and white around the mouth. The most difficult part of the colour was the eyes as I didn’t know wether to add a reflective tone to the pupils of the character however after consultation with Adam he said to avoid any shiny surfaces as it would affect the mesh itself. When I reimported the sloth back into Maya there was a problem with the eye where the colour was lost around the left eye. This can be fixed in photoshop when placed in the pictures. However I need to fix the colour in Mudbox for the character turnaround.

I then added joints to the arms of the character so I can properly pose the sloth once placed in the setting. This process was difficult as the shape of the joints where too large and this caused the arm to bend and twist. To fix this I reduced the size of the joints and paired them to a central node in the chest. Overall I am happy with the progress I am making after past frustrations due to the software crashing. I am looking forward to completing this project and to move on to the lip-sync project on Wednesday.

Day 2- Character Design

Today I was able to complete the turnaround and images for the character. I was pleased with the ease in which I could complete a turnaround by parenting my character to the circle on the floor . This was then easy to render out. I found that my character reacted differently to the dome light and so the mouth of the character was not well lit and still showed the darkened paint where I had tried to shade the mouth in. In addition due to previous problems I am unhappy with the look of my character as I feel like some of the form and structure which was once there has been lost through the baking of the character through the uvs. The use of the the retopologised version of the character due to files crashing and the main character being too dense has led to this outcome. To combat this I will be submitting a turnaround of the dense character to show what the initial form and structure of the character should be without the added paint.

Furthermore, I found the process of compositing my character into the still images quite difficult. This was due to when I exported out of Maya the dome light would remain white instead of leaving no background. As I was not in a workshop today I improvised and went directly into photoshop. To do this I saved the image of the sloth and erased the white background therefore leaving me with no background. I then placed the sloth inside the images and began to layer paint on to create shadow and contrast to ensure that the sloth was fully in the scene. This worked well to some extent however it was difficult to know where the light sources of the character was coming from on certain photographs. I also found posing the sloth difficult due to the rigging controls warping the sloths body in unrealistic ways. This was especially difficult in the left arm and so I chose a similar pose to the maquette I made. I hope to get more clarity on this in next weeks. Lecture however these photographs are up to standard for submission as well. Furthermore, I am waiting to complete the character cast sheet. This is due to some of my friends not completing their characters yet. I will complete a 2d and 3d variation of the cast sheet to ensure it meets the submission requirements.

#fantasticalcreatures #characterdesign #weeklysummaries #weeklysummary #ba1b

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cherieofthedragons · 8 years ago

Text

In Which Blackwall Is Not Dalish

A Knight Shop AU fic

I cannot stop playing in this sandbox. Have more Blackwall/Mirevas.

The Knight Shop AU is a modern-ish AU, basically Thedas/modern England, in which there exists a shop where one can hire knights. A knight shop. Hence the name. Typically, knights are hired to do odd jobs, attend social events, act as bodyguards, etc. etc. And many of our favorite Dragon Age characters are knights-for-hire. It’s a giant mishmash world shared by lots of lovely creators and peopled by lots of lovely OCs.

Blackwall is a knight. Mirevas Lavellan is the client he’s besotted with.

Thank you to @aphreal42 for use of her characters Sulevin and Vireth, and for betaing all of this nonsense.

More Blackwall/Mirevas Knight Shop fun:

In Which Blackwall Doesn’t Think Things Through

In Which Blackwall Somehow Manages Not to Kill His Coworkers

Without further ado...the fic!

This was it. Blackwall parked his lovingly-restored 1971 Charger in the gallery parking lot and tugged on the sleeves of his blazer. He hoped he looked all right. On Cassandra’s advice, he’d worn a dark grey blazer, light grey dress slacks, and a cornflower blue shirt with the top button undone. All right, the shirt color had come from Gal’s friend Dorian, but Blackwall never intended to let the man know he’d taken his advice. The whole thing was a little out of Blackwall’s comfort zone -- he tended towards metal t-shirts, jeans, and boots -- but for Mirevas, it was worth it.

And, of course, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time combing out his beard. He always did that, far more than he wanted anyone to find out, but today -- he’d be on Mirevas’s arm. She was the artist; everyone would notice her. He needed to look as presentable as possible.

Maker, he hoped he wouldn’t embarrass her.

He was as ready as he’d ever be. Blackwall pushed open the car door and stepped out into the cool air.

Mirevas was already there. She was facing away from him, standing on the pavement and talking to someone. She may be turned away, but he’d recognize her ebony hair, tawny skin, and petite frame anywhere.

She took his breath away. Her hair was pulled back in her usual pristine bun, which emphasized her long, elegant, pierced ears. Her forest green blouse was backless, held to her slender body by thin laces. An image he recognized as Dalish was tattooed against the smooth bronze skin of her back, a hunting bow with a leafy branch running through it. Tight black slacks were tucked into knee-high leather boots.

She was, beyond a doubt, the most bewitching woman he’d ever seen.

As if sensing his presence, she turned, and her eyes met his. A glorious smile spread across her face. She spoke quickly to her current companion, who nodded and went into the gallery.

Blackwall’s mouth was dry. He wasn’t sure he could speak. Not trusting his voice, he stepped toward her, unable to tear his eyes away.

“Blackwall.” She ducked her head. “It’s good to see you.”

He reached for her hand, and she gave him her own. “It is an immense pleasure to accompany you, my lady.”

In a moment of courage, he bent his head to kiss her delicate fingers. Her skin was warm against his lips.

Mirevas blushed, and his heart beat faster.

“You’re very...chivalrous. Well, you are a knight. I suppose that’s part of the job description.”

“Perhaps.” Blackwall’s chest swelled at the compliment. Most people saw him as rough, unpolished. With Mirevas, though…

It would be a disgrace to treat Mirevas with anything less than the highest respect.

He released her hand, and she drew it back. Suddenly, something behind him caught her eye, and she froze. “Blackwall.”

Her face was so shocked that for a brief moment, Blackwall wondered if she’d seen a spider. “What is it?”

“That--is that your car?”

“Oh.” Blackwall glanced back over his shoulder at his beloved Charger. “It is, yes.”

Mirevas gaped at him. “And you let me drive my beat-up old Rover last time instead of offering me a ride?”

That stopped Blackwall in his tracks. He’d been so distracted by the visage of the Dalish goddess before him that he hadn’t given a thought to transportation at the time. Which was pretty shocking, actually, given his passion for cars. “I--er--”

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Next time, we are taking that.”

Next time? There would be a next time? He suddenly felt light as a feather -- a very unfamiliar feeling for a man his size.

Mirevas bit her lip and gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

Blackwall offered her his arm. “It is my honor.”

---------

Blackwall wasn’t usually such an idiot. At forty years old, he’d known lots of women over the years. But he couldn’t remember ever being so utterly dumbstruck by a lady as he was by Mirevas.

Which was probably why he didn’t realize exactly what he was walking into until he, well, walked into it.

Blackwall was carefully not staring at Mirevas, which was not easy, given how stunning she looked. He was a knight; he had to be courteous and polite. And he would kill himself if he chased off the most incredible woman he’d ever met. That meant not being pervy, which meant not staring. So instead of watching her, he surveyed the gallery they were standing in.

That was when he realized.

The June Gallery. He hadn’t given much thought to the name of the place, too distracted by the idea of seeing Mirevas again. Now he looked across the room at the few people in attendance, taking in their facial tattoos and intricately embroidered clothing, and a vague memory surfaced, something he’d heard years ago, about a Dalish god called June.

This was a Dalish art gallery. It was right there in the name, and he hadn’t realized it.

Well, that was all right. Mirevas was Dalish. He wanted to know more about her, which meant he wanted to know more about her culture. This was a great opportunity for that.

It was just… well. It had been a matter of seconds since they’d stepped through the door, and he was already receiving strange glances. And the gallery hadn’t even opened yet.

Mirevas’s hand tightened on his arm.

It didn’t matter. He was here for Mirevas. He would serve her in any way he could, and everything else was superfluous.

His eyes swept the gallery again, this time seeking out the artwork on the walls. Mirevas had crafted each piece, and each of them held a promise -- to reveal a glimpse into the heart and mind of their creator. Blackwall had been anticipating this opportunity since the day she’d called to hire him. He focused on the nearest painting, eager to see what her hands had wrought.

It was exquisite. The sharp lines, vibrant colors, and distinct shading marked it clearly as the work of a tattoo artist, which appealed to him immediately. A white halla with intricately entwined silver antlers gazed out of the painting at him, set against a field of blue and framed by waving lines of green reminiscent of elegant vines.

Every time Blackwall thought his admiration for Mirevas couldn’t grow any larger, she proved him wrong. Her physical loveliness had been obvious from the moment he laid eyes on her, but within a few hours of knowing her, she’d shown herself to be both deeply intelligent and incredibly kind. As if that weren’t enough, her talent as an artist was incomparable. Well, he’d known it must be -- people paid her to practice her craft on their own bodies -- but seeing her artwork in person…

It overwhelmed him. Blackwall felt incredibly privileged just to look at it.

Mirevas shifted her weight, drawing his attention back to her. One corner of her mouth quirked up, but her eyes remained fixed on the painting before them. “My uncle raises halla.” She glanced up at him, then quickly away. “You could say he inspired this.”

Blackwall was momentarily jealous of the uncle who inspired this extraordinary creation. He wondered what it would be like to stir that kind of feeling in her, to instill such passion in her that she had to express it, that such beauty would come from her hands all because of--

He couldn’t think like that. She was a client. An exceptionally talented, brilliant, gorgeous...client. An old knight like himself -- there was nothing he could offer her. She’d have no kind of life with him.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” Blackwall said, and hoped she didn’t know that it wasn’t really the painting he was talking about.

Mirevas looked back up at him in surprise, and a pleased grin spread across her face. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

“Mirevas!” The voice came from across the room, and they both turned to look. An elf with a clipboard was frowning at her, looking distinctly nervous. “Elanas ma halani, sathan?”

Blackwall had no idea what he’d said, but apparently it wasn’t good, because Mirevas sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand from his arm reluctantly. “The downside of being the guest of honor -- I have to deal with every little wrinkle in the plans. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Blackwall didn’t really want to be alone here, but of course that was ridiculous. So he smiled. “I’ll take this opportunity to look around before the doors open to the public.”

She grinned shyly. “All right, then.”

The elf across the room spoke in Elvish once again, and Mirevas rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m coming!”

With one last look at Blackwall, Mirevas turned and hurried off.

----------

Mirevas’s work focused on nature, Blackwall observed. Soaring trees, delicate flowers, stately animals. And yet there was an edge to her art. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something very rock-and-roll in her portrayal, in her style, that set her paintings apart from any other nature scenes he’d ever seen.

Every piece was magnificent. But the most intriguing, the most arresting pictures, the ones that truly fascinated him, were the ones with “Not for Sale” signs posted beneath them. The ones that could only be renderings of Dalish legends and folklore. In these paintings, every brushstroke was so lovingly executed that he knew instinctively she had poured her soul into them. And despite his best intentions, Blackwall felt a surge of dismay. Because--

--well. If the soul she’d poured into her art was so very elven, what could she possibly think of Blackwall? What need could she ever have for a large, lumbering human?

The revelation of just how ill-suited to her he was made him realize -- he’d still been holding out hope. Hope that this incredible goddess might somehow, someway find something in him to...to…

...care about.

He was a bloody fool.

“Blackwall?”

Mirevas’s voice behind him made him start. He turned to see her smiling up at him.

“Problem solved. And Creators willing, I won’t be interrupted again. The artist is supposed to mingle, after all. Can’t be called away to deal with every missing hang tag that turns up. Or rather, doesn’t turn up.” She rolled her eyes and shot him a grin.

“It would indeed be a shame to deprive the people of your presence.”

She chuckled and looked at the floor. “If I’d known knights were so kind and gallant, I’d have started hiring them years ago.”

Her compliment went straight to his heart. Ah, there was that hope again. Would nothing teach him not to wish for the moon?

“I’m really glad you’re here.” Her voice was quiet, and Blackwall realized that no, nothing would.

----------

Well, it was official. Blackwall did not belong here.

He wasn’t the only human. Others wandered in and out, mostly young hipster couples. But Blackwall was the only one who didn’t leave after about ten minutes, and he was at all times the largest person in the room. He almost wished for Gal to be there, just so he wouldn’t be the only giant among elves -- but no, a pair of large men would most certainly be worse.

And this was bad enough. Blackwall couldn’t miss the odd looks he kept receiving, or the way Mirevas seemed to become increasingly uncomfortable as the night went on. With good reason. Having him at her side could only be disagreeable to the throng of Dalish admirers. No doubt she regretted bringing him here. And the fact that she’d actually spent money on it…

He shouldn’t have let her pay for the job; he should have volunteered to come on his own time. But no, he’d already been committed to being on duty this evening, and more importantly, waiving the fee would make this...a date. And he couldn’t impose his affections on her, not when she’d called seeking a professional service.

Perhaps he should have refused the job altogether. But that wasn’t right, either. She’d wanted him to be here, and it would have been wrong to turn her away. He’d had no valid reason to, either, even if he’d known how awkward it would be. Sorry, don’t want to be around a lot of Dalish people. It was an awful, untrue sentiment. He was honored to be allowed to spend time within her culture. He just hated for his presence to reflect poorly on her.

And of course, he could never have risked her thinking that he was rejecting her. The idea was intolerable. No, he’d done the right thing. He just didn’t know what he could do now to improve matters for Mirevas.

At least he didn’t seem to be chasing people away. Mirevas had, unsurprisingly, been receiving a constant string of admirers all evening. None of them had looked at or acknowledged Blackwall in any way. They spoke to Mirevas mostly in Elvish and ignored the large human hovering next to her.

Blackwall did the only thing he could think of -- he refilled her drink as necessary and otherwise stood by her side.

After another trip to the punch bowl, Blackwall came back to find Mirevas hugging a Dalish man with long black hair. She beamed at him fondly, taking his hands in hers. Blackwall couldn’t stifle the sharp jolt of jealousy in his heart.

She’s not yours to be jealous over, he reminded himself sternly.

The mental admonition did nothing to make him feel better.

Mirevas didn’t seem to notice Blackwall standing there. She chattered happily in Elvish to her Dalish friend, and the man laughed in response. Blackwall watched them, holding a cup of punch in each hand and trying not to feel awkward. Was it rude to stand here looking at them? Should he clear his throat or something?

Mirevas saved him the trouble of deciding by noticing him at that moment. “Blackwall!” She sounded genuinely pleased. “Vireth, I want you to meet my--my friend, Blackwall. He’s a knight.”

Vireth’s eyebrows went up, but he held out his hand. “That’s not a profession I’m familiar with. What exactly does a knight do?”

Mirevas reached out quickly to take one of the cups, freeing Blackwall to accept Vireth’s handshake. As he took the elf’s hand, Blackwall analyzed his words, trying to figure out if there was disapproval in them, and then decided that if there was, it didn’t matter. Not everyone could understand his calling, and not everyone needed to. Those who were most important to him understood.

He hoped Mirevas understood.

“These days?” Blackwall shrugged. “Whatever a client finds useful. Protection detail. Gardening. Car repair.” He glanced at Mirevas. “Ridding a flat of spiders.”

Mirevas shuddered. “It was terrible, Vireth. My new flat was full of the things. You should have seen it. I still can’t believe Blackwall went in there. He’s my hero.”

It was the second time she’d called him that, and his chest filled with pride, just as it had the first time. He’d never get tired of those words. To have earned such praise when he hadn’t even been able to finish the job… it overwhelmed him to think of it.

Vireth’s face was unreadable as he looked at Blackwall. “Dirthas Elvehn?”

Er…

“No, he doesn’t speak Elvish.” Mirevas looked uncomfortable again. “I mean -- I’m sorry, I should ask you. Do you speak Elvish, Blackwall?”

Blackwall shook his head. His cheeks grew hot with embarrassment at his inadequacy, and he wished to the Void that he did speak her language, that he could have that to share with Mirevas. Vireth had that to share with Mirevas.

“Ah,” Vireth said. “I wasn’t sure.”

Mirevas looked up at Blackwall (she was going to hurt her neck doing that; she wouldn’t hurt her neck looking at an elven man). “Vireth is my cousin. He’s a very skilled craftsman.”

…cousin?

Blackwall almost laughed in relief. Cousin. Quickly, he pushed the feeling away. It should be nothing to Blackwall if Mirevas had a boyfriend. Blackwall was just…

...he was just…

What was he, exactly? The knight she’d hired for the evening, of course, but why? It couldn’t be more obvious that he was an ill fit for this event. So what had Mirevas been looking for when she signed that contract? What was he?

Whatever he was, he couldn’t just stand there wondering about it while they stared at him. Blackwall addressed Vireth. “A craftsman. What sort of work do you do?”

“I work with wood. Not purchased or planed, found. Every piece is a fragment of a life. I seek to uncover and enhance the beauty inherent in that life, not to alter its structure by imposing my desires upon it. I also strive to advance in traditional arts, crafting items with purpose as the people have always done, but those remain among our own people.”

“A noble trade.” Blackwall meant it. “I’ve done some woodworking. Not comparable to what you do, of course,” he said quickly at Vireth’s frown, “but there’s something very soothing about working with your hands. I admire what you do.”

Vireth’s frown softened. “What sort of woodworking did you do?”

“Children’s toys, mostly. I made a griffon rocking-horse for a friend’s daughter, once. I was rather proud of that one. But I’m afraid I don’t have the skill for creating genuine art.”

Mirevas gazed at him, and Blackwall thought she looked proud. “Do you still do it?”

“Not for years, I’m afraid.” He wished his answer was different -- they might be more impressed with him.

“So you gave it up to become a knight?” Vireth’s tone was polite, but once again, Blackwall thought he detected a note of disapproval at his chosen profession.

“Woodworking was always more of a hobby for me. Something that let me unwind. I usually gave away what I made. Making a profession of it never seemed realistic, not with my limited skill.”

Mirevas spoke again. “Were you always a knight, then?” Blackwall could have been imagining it, but he thought she sounded intensely interested.

“Only the last ten years.”

“What did you do before?”

The conversation was heading into dangerous territory, but Blackwall wouldn’t lie. “Competitive fencing.”

There was no mistaking the awe on Mirevas’s face, and guilt shot through him. There was nothing to admire in what he’d used to be.

Vireth scrutinized him. “Why change?”

It was too much to go into now, not at this time, not in this setting, so Blackwall gave a partial answer. “It’s...complicated. But I couldn’t have done it forever, and I wanted to be honorable. A knight in shining armor. May sound silly, but we help people at the Knight Shop. Each of us has a code to follow and can’t be asked to violate it. I find it a noble calling.”

Mirevas ducked her head, smiling. Vireth squinted at her. In a stoic sort of way.

“Mirevas, Vireth! An’eth’ara!”

Blackwall turned his head to see a Dalish woman resembling Mirevas approach. Mirevas squealed and jumped forward, throwing her arms around the newcomer. “Sulevin!”

The woman laughed and hugged her back, then spoke in Elvish again.

Mirevas pulled back and gestured to Blackwall. “Sulevin, this is Blackwall. Blackwall, my cousin, Sulevin. Sulevin is Vireth’s sister.”

“Andaran atish’an,” Sulevin said to Blackwall. That seemed to be some kind of greeting; he had picked up on that much over the course of the evening, at least.

So he responded in kind, doing his best not to stumble over the words. “Andaran atish’an.”

Mirevas reached for his hand, wrapping her fingers around it. He closed his hand over hers. The expression on her face -- it made Blackwall’s heart skip a beat. Maker, she undid him without even trying.

He’d almost forgotten where he was until Vireth cleared his throat. “Mirevas, lethallan. Nuvan dirtha ma?”

Mirevas blinked and squinted at her cousin. “Sorry, what?”

“Can I speak with you a moment?”

“Yes.” Mirevas bit her lip and turned to Blackwall. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Blackwall ducked his head in a small bow. “As my lady wishes.”

Vireth gave Blackwall a long look before stepping away with Mirevas on his heels. Blackwall tried not to feel abandoned, but without Mirevas at his side, the feeling that he had no right to be here intensified. He looked at Sulevin to find her watching him carefully, and that did nothing to increase his comfort level.

“Have you had a chance to look around?” she asked him.

Blackwall nodded. “I did. Mirevas...she’s extremely talented.”

“She is. What did you think of the scene with Andruil? The one with the Forgotten Ones, not with Ghilan’nain.”

Erm. Blackwall tried to think of a way to explain that he didn’t know what she was talking about -- without looking like a sodding idiot.

“Did you not see that one? It’s one of my favorites.” Sulevin inclined her head toward a corner of the gallery, and Blackwall followed her over obediently.

The painting was large. He’d seen it already, but the subject matter was a mystery to him. The title was in Elvish, so that was no help, and he hadn’t had time to read the long explanation on the tag. But the painting itself was captivating. In Mirevas’s unmistakeable tattoo style, a beautiful, fierce elvish woman held a spear aloft, wearing an expression so fiery it could melt steel. Menacing shadows with glowing red eyes surrounded her, making Blackwall shiver.

“Andruil is invading the abyss here. Can’t you just feel the fury in her?” Sulevin chuckled. “I almost pity the Forgotten Ones.”

Andruil, abyss, Forgotten Ones. Maker, he wished he had even the slightest idea what that meant. “It’s a very moving piece,” he said simply. “Like there’s a fire in her eyes. I hope I’m never on the receiving end of a look like that.”

Sulevin tilted her head infinitesimally. “Then I’d suggest you never, ever hurt Mirevas.”

Startled, he met her eyes to see them burning dangerously. Not as terrifying as Andruil in Mirevas’s painting, but frightening enough to know that he never wanted to cross Sulevin.

“It’s not like that,” Blackwall murmured. Ah, how he wished it was. “But I give you my word as a knight that I’ll do everything in my power to guard Mirevas from any pain.”

Sulevin nodded slightly, and Blackwall knew she didn’t trust him, but at the same time he thought that perhaps she was...appeased. Somewhat.

Mirevas had been gone for too long. Well. Not that long, but it felt like ages to Blackwall. He glanced across the room, looking for her, and found her standing with her back to him, nodding at Vireth’s words. As if she could sense Blackwall’s eyes on her, she looked back over her shoulder. Their gazes met, Mirevas smiled, and for a moment, he felt that the two of them were sharing an intimate secret.

“I’m not sure this scene is something to applaud.”

Blackwall started. Once again, he’d been so enraptured by Mirevas that he’d lost all sense of his surroundings. A bald elf -- not Dalish, judging by his plain clothing and lack of facial tattoos -- had joined them, and was now examining the beautiful painting critically. It made Blackwall bristle without even knowing what the man meant.

But he wasn’t the only one disturbed by the newcomer’s statement. Sulevin glowered at him, disdain all over her face. “You think you know better than Mirevas how Andruil should be portrayed?”

“It’s a matter of perspective,” the bald elf said smoothly. “This hunt drove Andruil mad, after all.”

“A tragedy. Her passion turned against her.”

The man turned to Blackwall. “Dirthas Elvehn, shemlen? Mar sil?”

Without thinking, Blackwall turned to Sulevin for help. Not that Mirevas’s protective cousin had any reason to come to his aid. But she replied harshly in Elvish, and it felt like a rescue, even if it hadn’t been meant as such. Maker, it made a man feel powerless, being excluded from so much understanding.

But of course, that was his own weakness. The man that Mirevas deserved, the man he wished he could be, would understand her language -- or at least be comfortable enough with her culture not to feel as helpless as Blackwall did right now.

The bald elf shook his head and looked to Blackwall. “The problem with being too close to a legend is that objectivity becomes difficult.” He spoke as if certain that Blackwall would share his opinion, and Blackwall seethed at the man’s rudeness.

“I defer to the lady on this one.” He nodded at Sulevin, who lifted her chin. “I certainly wouldn’t presume to contradict her on her own heritage.”

“I see.” The male elf regarded Blackwall, coldly assessing him. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.”

“Blackwall.”

“Blackwall. What brings you here, shemlen? Are you elf-blooded?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“An academic interest in elven history, then?”

Blackwall glanced away again, looking for Mirevas, and found her approaching, her brow furrowed in concern.

“No.”

“Hmm.” Solas looked unimpressed. “What does bring you here, then?”

“He’s here because I asked him to be, Solas.” Mirevas stepped up next to Blackwall and put a hand on his arm, then looked to Sulevin. “Is everything all right here?”

Sulevin opened her mouth to speak, but Solas answered first. “A difference of opinion, that’s all.”

“Solas eolas banal o isa av,” Sulevin said, then addressed Blackwall. “It was very nice to meet you. Perhaps we’ll speak later.”

“I would like that.” As awkward as Blackwall may feel, he had a great deal of respect for this woman that he’d only just met, and he believed Mirevas was lucky to have such a cousin.

Sulevin nodded. “Dareth shiral.”

That sounded like goodbye, so Blackwall repeated, “Dareth shiral,” and hoped he hadn’t put his foot in his mouth.

He thought, as Sulevin turned away, that she looked just the tiniest bit pleased.

Solas didn’t acknowledge Sulevin’s departure. He was gazing at Mirevas in a way that Blackwall recognized as, well, enamored was the only word for it.

For the briefest of instants, Blackwall imagined himself punching the man.

“It seems your show is a great success,” Solas said. “I expected nothing less.”

“That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you.”

“I speak only the truth. May I get you a drink?”

Yes, Blackwall definitely wanted to hurt this man.

“No, thank you. But I appreciate the offer.” Mirevas tilted her neck to look up at Blackwall again. “We should probably circulate, don’t you think?”

Before he could answer, she was tugging on his arm, pulling him away. “Dareth shiral, Solas!”

Blackwall didn’t bother to say goodbye. He kept his eyes on Mirevas as she led him to the other side of the room, into a corner with a partition that partially hid them from the eyes of the others.

Exhaling, Mirevas turned to look at him. “I’m sorry. We haven’t had a moment to ourselves.”

She wanted to be alone with him?

“I’m flattered you’d spend any time with me. I enjoy talking with you.”

And he truly did. Lunch with her last week had been a wonderful experience. Mirevas was not only exceptionally clever, she’d proven herself to be a kind and considerate woman with a sweet sense of humor. Everything new he discovered about her only made him fall harder.

She fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. “There’s something I wanted to say to you--”

A voice speaking Elvish made them both turn. Another patron, it seemed. The person gestured to a painting, the lilt of her voice making it clear she was asking a question.

She probably didn’t notice the brief, miniscule grimace that crossed Mirevas’s face, but Blackwall did.

Well. He should probably get her another drink. All that talking had to be thirsty work.

----------

It seemed like ages -- and yet only minutes -- before the doors to the gallery closed, with not a few paintings marked SOLD on their tags. Gallery staff descended on Mirevas immediately, but she spoke in Elvish, giving what could only be a command, and they walked away, albeit somewhat resentfully.

“Step outside with me?” she asked Blackwall.

“As you wish.” He could never refuse an opportunity to be alone with her.

They walked silently to the door. Blackwall held it open for her, and they stepped out into the night air. As soon as the breeze hit them, Mirevas began to shiver.

Immediately, Blackwall removed his blazer and held it out. She allowed him to help her into it, then faced him.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

Blackwall blinked, her words taking him by complete surprise. “For what, my lady?”

She gestured at the space around them. “For--this. For bringing you here. For the way you were treated. I didn’t think -- Creators, it’s all so Dalish, isn’t it?”

He didn’t follow. “That’s not something to be sorry for. You’re rightfully proud of your heritage.”

“But you--” She shook her head.

He didn’t belong. He was an intrusion. Yes, he knew.

“You should have been welcomed. Included. This -- it’s not just about us. Certainly I never intended it to be. It’s an art show, not some sort of private cultural ceremony. I want to foster understanding, create bridges. The way people ignored you, the way they looked at you -- it’s unacceptable. And I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that feels. No, that’s wrong, I know exactly how it feels. And I should never have put you in that situation.”

She was apologizing...for him not fitting in. It was utterly incongruous. That any of this could be her fault--

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my lady. Your culture is a part of you, and I’m honored that you chose to share this with me. My only wish is that my shortcomings had not inflicted any unpleasantness on you.”

Mirevas looked astonished -- and appalled. “Shortcomings? What shortcomings?”

“I wasn’t able to respond appropriately. I didn’t understand the intricacies of your culture. You deserve better than an escort so culturally inept.”

She looked no less horrified. “You responded beautifully. And I never prepared you. Honestly, anyone who would judge me for bringing a man who is so obviously trying, who treats our culture with respect despite not fully understanding it -- a person who would judge me for that? I don’t want their approval.”

Blackwall had thought her smile was the most beautiful thing in the world. But the fierce strength that filled her eyes now was almost as overpowering.

“The only regard I care about is yours,” he said softly.

Her anger seemed to melt at his words, and she gazed up at him with intense emotion.

Before he could think, he asked the question that had plagued him all evening. “Why did you want me here, my lady?”

She blinked, startled. “I--”

Maker’s breath. He wished he could take back the words. “Forgive me. That was inappropriate. I should not have asked.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, I’m glad you did. I--I was so nervous about the show, and you -- well, you were so brave the last time. I felt like--if you were here to support me--I could get through it.”

The admission astounded him. He’d had no idea she was nervous, not with the easy way she’d greeted every admirer. And that she could view him in such a way--that his mere presence could give her strength--

“Besides, I--well, I--” she hesitated “--I just wanted to see you again.”

Her words hit him straight in the heart. She’d wanted to see him. Wanted it enough that she’d risked the censure of her peers to be with him tonight.

She looked away, focusing her gaze out at the parking lot.

Blackwall gathered all his courage.

“May I see you again, my lady?

Mirevas’s head jerked back towards him, her eyes wide. But--not in a good way, he realized. Like a halla caught in headlights.

Fuck. He’d misunderstood. He thought she meant--but she didn’t--

“I’d like that, but--” Maker, she looked uncomfortable “--it’ll be a while before I can afford to hire you again.”

Her smile was nervous, apologetic.

It took him a second to understand what she was saying, and when he did, he was alarmed. Andraste’s arse, could he bugger this any more?

“No,” he said, scrambling for words, “I mean--”

Impulsively, he took her hand, and her lips parted.

“Not as a job. I want to take you out. Dinner. On me.”

She stared at him, mouth agog. Silent.

Maker, his heart was pounding.

“You can ride in my car?” he offered.

Suddenly, Mirevas laughed. “Oh, well, if I get to ride in the car…”

The tension deflated, and Blackwall could breathe again.

“Yes,” she said, smiling that glorious smile. “Even without the car. I’d really, really like to see you again.”

She was so beautiful. He wanted to kiss her. Maker’s breath, he wanted it. But he couldn’t. This was still a job. A professional obligation. And it would not reflect well on the Knight Shop if the knights went around snogging their clients.

Instead, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers again, never taking his eyes off her lovely face.

The change in her face was unmistakable. Her eyes darkened and her breathing quickened. Blackwall’s pulse sped up in matching desire. He couldn’t kiss her; it wouldn’t be right. But…

...if she kissed him…

Maker, please let her kiss me.

Mirevas withdrew her hand, and her breathing evened out. “Dinner then? Erm--tomorrow?”

She seemed just as impatient as he was to be together again, and a laugh escaped him, not of humour, but of pure joy. “Six o’clock?”

“Perfect.” She beamed. “That’ll be...perfect.”

Perfect, indeed. Blackwall couldn’t agree more.

The Elvish comes from this online translator using the Project Elvhen conlang. Many thanks to the creators of those tools and apologies for any butchering I may have done to their work.

Elanas ma halani, sathan? - Can you help me, please?

Dirthas Elvehn? - Do you speak Elvish?

An’eth’ara! - casual greeting

Andaran atish’an - Welcome to this place of peace, more formal greeting

Mirevas, lethallan. Nuvan dirtha ma? - Mirevas, cousin. May I speak to you?

Dirthas Elvehn, shemlen? Mar sil? - Do you speak Elvish, human? Your thoughts?

Solas eolas banal o isa av - Solas knows nothing about what he speaks of

Dareth shiral - Safe journey

#dragon age #knight shop au #blackwall #mirevas lavellan #dragon age fic #dragon age modern au #inquisitor lavellan #blackwall x lavellan #blackwall x mirevas #cherie writes things #vireth lavellan #sulevin lavellan

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