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endiecutieo6 · 3 months ago

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-Gorebruary 2023!-

Week 1

Hello everyone! So, in 2020, I impulsively took a goretober list and decided to do in February, because I just could. It ended up being a little bit of tradition on my Instagram, only not done when I genuinely just didn’t have the time. I’ll reposting these here because idk. I just wanted to.

The format ended up being a picture followed by a short story, which I’ll also put beneath each image just to make it easier to read, along with a short personal blurb!

First off: I’m going to the trigger warnings from each image here. Sorry if stuff repeats.

Day 1/Crushed: Blood, mild body horror, organs, eye trauma(?)

Day 2/Decapitated: blood, decapitation/dismemberment

Day 3/pin cushion: needles, blood

Day 4/Amputation: depictions of medical procedures, missing limbs, lots a blood, medical themes

Day 5/Experiment: depictions of medical procedures, medical malpractice, lots a blood, medical themes

Day 6/Infection: cuts, mild blood, depictions of an infection, mild body horror, mild nudity(?)

Day 7/Body horror: Body horror (duh), blood, mentions of suicide in the story segment

With warnings aside, let’s begin the fun!

“Accidents happen.

Things get bumped over, slip out of hands, and clatter to the ground in pieces. It was okay, accidents happen. They were okay.

No one knows how to happened, but the cave collapsed after a loud boom was heard. Everyone got out, asking just what happened and who did it.

After spotting Mr. Riley, whoever did it, decided to keep their mouth shut.

Personal Note: I worked my ass off on this one, and there’s only a few things that I feel I did poorly on. I wanted to start things off with a bang and oh boy did I! For the story, which wasn’t a good as I thought it was like wow, I think I made it so the cave it was caused by Martha missing her shot and hitting the wall. Freddy just happened to be the one who died.

On another note, I was only able to work as well as I could because I’d make concept sketches ahead of time and made a ref sheet. Unfortunately, I don’t have access to my computer/ forgot to email myself the files so I might have to show those another time. It made work a lot better because sketching is such a long process and having a ref made it easier to color.

“Freddy prided himself on his unwavering will. When he wanted something, he did everything in his power to get it. Life was too short to wait and have it pass by, so he did it without care for the consequences.

In the manor, things were a bit different, and he was fully aware of his disadvantages. So, he made up for it by trying to be one step ahead of everyone. If it meant setting traps, hiding things, or telling little white lies, so be it. He was not going to allow himself any weakness.

He thought certain rules would protect him, he hoped they would protect him. After all, hunters could only do so much right-“

PN: this is technically a redraw of a 2020 gorebruary piece, but this one I like much better and uses cooler colors. Story wise, it was the ripper who did it after getting a little too frustrated and losing his cool. Freddy can be a little shit after all.

“Hmm, looks like I need to make some… last minute adjustments…

I’m sure you don’t mind helping, right?”

PN: I HATE THIS ONE. I hit a wall after the first two and relied way to heavily on 3D materials (a benefit of using clip studio paint) so it just looks off. Anatomy is off, pose is still, the story is just ass I shoved in last minute because I really didn’t enjoy making this one. If I redrew it, I’d change a LOT.

“Date: 1/9/XXXX

After the XXXXXXXX incident with subject 5-8-7, and getting the limbs that had been severed from subject 5-8-7 during the incident, we have decided to take one of our test subjects and jumpstart project XXXXXXXX.

At 9:20 am of January 9th, XXXX, we subdued subject 4-0-3, who had somehow informed of our plan and was resisting aggressively. We strapped him down and, due to destruction of our medical grade morphine, had to preform surgery without it.

He is still currently in a near-catatonic state, most likely due to shock, as shown in the picture. He has been patched up, hooked up to an IV and in care. As of me writing this, he hasn’t spoken a word.

Once we have him stabilized and make sure nothing becomes infected, we can move on to phase 2.

- Dr. XXXXXXX”

PN: this, along with the rest of the images for this week, are connected! It’s a resident evil inspired story which also features that years gorebruary “mascot” as a part of the story. Also, in sharp contrast to the previous image, I LOVE how this turned out. While I’d undoubtably made a few errors, I just have a soft spot for this image.

“Date: 1/12/XXXX

We proceeded in phase 2 of project XXXXX, but not without its complications.

Once again, subject 4-0-3 resisted violently, resulting in a few bruises for our staff and some lacerations to the chest on him. We bandaged him up, drugged him with laughing gas, and attached the severed ligaments from subject 5-8-7 to him. The stitching itself is poor quality, making it easier to take off if the limbs are rejected.

Instantly, the arm bonded with the body, even allowing subject 4-0-3 to twist his wrist. The leg has yet to be as responsive, it’s only noticeable changes being the slow increase in length, presumably to match the length of the natural leg.

Something peculiar should be noted: the sudden presence of black veins that are spreading not only on the foreign limbs but on subjects 4-0-3’s body as well. Currently, we are suspecting that’s it’s a bonding method of some sorts.

Subject 4-0-3 has been more quiet than ever, seemingly docile for the time being. He’s under constant supervision to make sure any changes will be noticed ahead of time.

-Dr. XXXXX”

(Note: I’m editing the story’s only a little bit. Nothing major, just for ease of reading)

PN: I like this image a little less. The colors aren’t as contrasting as I would’ve liked them, and the shading is not great. I’d change quite a bit if I did it today, mostly in the posing n such.

“Date: 1/21/XXXX

Time: 7:54 pm

Surprise to no one, Subject 4-0-3 for a severe infection. Discoloration, redness, swelling, boils leaking pus, and other standard symptoms. It’s repulsive to look at, and definitely should’ve been noticed sooner. I feel like an idiot for not noticing sooner, especially when the scratching began.

Outside of the infection, he’s having changes we just can’t fully explaining. The black veins and consumed both limbs, and has absorbed the stitching. His eyes have become discolored, and an identified fluid is just leaking from his face.

I’m more concerned about his sudden shift in behavior. He’s a cautious and guarded man, and he was practically mute when this project finally started. Now he’s chattier than ever, though how aware he is over the situation seems up to coin toss. He’s compliant, but that only makes more worried.

Jean took the photo of him and I, and I can’t say that I’m not having second thoughts about this. As I’m writing this, I’ve come to an disturbing realization: he shouldn’t be walking around with such ease. He’s as blind as a bat, shouldn’t he be struggling more?

On that note, I’m going to go and make a quick checkup on him, maybe even recommend sedation for the foreseeable future. Then, I’ll check on subject 5-8-7, who’s already fully recovered but far too quiet.

- Dr. Wesker”

PN: Tumblr is struggling to let me type. I’m mid about this one, just doesn’t feel all that standout. I’d chance a lot about this one.

“If you’re reading this, my name is Aiko Wesker and I fucked up.

This whole project was rigged from the start; she KNEW and was LETTING it happen, and now Freddy has mutated into something as twisted as her. Half the facility is dead, and no matter how many gunshots I hear the laughter just won’t stop.

They’re keeping me alive. She’s watching me as I’m writing this, staring at me with those soulless eyes. I’d kill myself if I could, but I don’t know if they’ll allow it.

I don’t know what their plan is and I don’t know what to do. May God have Mercy on my soul.”

PN: I don’t really like this pic. I didn’t work as hard as I should’ve and you can see it. You can also see the resident evil hinspo clear as day, which I should’ve really leaned more heavily on. This storyline is wrapped up though!

—

Thank you for being interested in this mess! I’d add more but Tumblr is bugging out hard so goodbye for now! Keep an eye open for week 2!

#freddy riley #idv lawyer #identity v #idv freddy #idv #my art #identity v freddy riley #identity v lawyer #idv freddy riley #fanart #tw g0re #mind the trigger warnings!#reposting my own art on another account #tumblr is so buggy sometimes #at least the mobile version #gorebruary

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justices-blade · 2 years ago

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im not kidding you guys. i wanted to do CRIMES. // battlefield chalkos crew

laslow:

First rule of any camp: supply logistics. Basic comforts and whatever small luxuries you were able to lug all the way from home can wait until each and every single item necessary is accounted for. Slacking off and scouting the best place to pitch your tent is not worth the punishment.

So instead of collapsing on his lumpy cot and taking a moment’s peace in order to process everything, he’s gearing up and heading out for an abandoned warehouse in search of that chalkos stuff.

The city glitters in the weak sunlight. Laslow thinks it would be gorgeous, in other circumstances, a city made from stars. Now, he only thinks of it as glass--beautiful when whole, edges sharp enough to cut once its been shattered.

He glances between his companions. The Hoshidan he doesn’t know despite vaguely looking familiar. Edward seems a little too excited by their assignment. “I’ve done missions like this a time or two before,” Laslow replies, peering over a snowbank. They were practically a requirement of military service in Nohr.

“Let’s sneak a little closer, eh? And remember, walk slowly. Keep your center of gravity. Snow is a lovely but tricky mistress.”

[Stealth roll: 10! Laslow please look where you’re going!]

They’ve hardly gone more than a few feet when he trips over a hidden rock in the snow. “I’m alright, I’m alright!” He stage-whispers to his teammates, brushing snow off his pants as he stands. Ears strain, listening for any new comers attracted by his little display.

Damn it all.

Creeping footsteps crunch closer, followed by a faint Hello?

Predictably, the guard finds you. She doesn’t call her guard friends, but does threaten to give you the business end of a Magic spell. Her appearance is of the last girl Laslow failed to impress.

Laslow holds his hands up, palms facing out--and wait, didn’t he ask her out just last week? He’d complimented her red hair, made her laugh with a well-timed joke...

Oh. Right. He’d also put his foot in his mouth, so to speak, earning a plate of perfectly good cake smashed into his chest. Yikes.

“Hel-lo again, my darling! I sincerely apologize for speaking without thinking, last we were together! Let’s let bygones be bygones, eh?” He even sketches an elegant bow, pink bangs flopping into his eyes.

Even in your dreams you strike out, sorry buddy.

When he brushes them away, she’s still standing there, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.

“...help me out here, please?” he turns to Hisame and Edward.

Cromch. Edward does his best to not flinch at the noise as Laslow trips practically immediately after his warning. Okay, maybe he'd been getting a little ahead of himself with his excitement; Stealth missions can be fun even if they don't go as planned, but a guard breathing down their necks is the last thing they want —

And is, apparently, what they're going to get. The swordsman does his best to crush himself as close to a rocky outcrop as he can without disturbing it overmuch, unsuccessful in an attempt to signal to Hisame to move with him, hand clenched around Caladbolg's hilt in a death grip. He thinks he does so with relative success, but...

d10 luck check! roll: 2. check failed!

The professor turns to him after one of the saddest attempts at charming reconciliation he's seen so far. The guard's gaze lands on him (with creeping familiarity, glazed-over eyes in a Nevassan alley), and Edward, for a split second, laments that Leonardo isn't hidden in the trees overhead, bow at the ready for situations like these.

(Maybe he should pick up something to use at range, too.)

That split second is all he gets, and it's all the guard gets, too — Already coiled to spring forth, Edward lunges, unsheathing his blade with a flash. The sheepish look of recognition he'd seen on Laslow's face is the only thing that keeps him from striking out with steel.

roll: 14. hit! d2 flavor roll: 2!

The guard's scream dies in her throat with a grunt as she keels over, the impact of Caladbolg's pommel against her temple knocking her out cold. Edward barely does so much as wince, more at the noise than the fact he just knocked someone flat.

"Hhhhookay, that was close. We're on a timer now." He whispers, catching her so she doesn't hit the ground as hard, before looking at Hisame and Laslow expectantly. "We wanna steal the uniform and have someone act as a distraction, or just try and sneak in through the back?"

@hisatana

#laslow #hisatana #;s. tread softly through the roses | laslow #;s. patience leaves legacies | hisame #kebattlefield2023 #;t. im not kidding you guys. i wanted to do CRIMES.#rolled: 5 chalkos

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shingia · 3 years ago

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not many people would be willing to be used to prove eren jaeger wrong. but jean kirstein would, as long as he gets something out of it...

CHAPTER 7 : JUST A SKETCH

↳ jean kirstein x f!reader | series masterlist

↳ cw: cursing, but i think that’s all??

↳ THIS IS LONG LONG LONG OVERDUE IM SO SORRY OMG. i was planning on making it longer but finally decided that chapter 8 will be the long one <3

<- CHAPTER 6

“that was the best meal i’ve ever had in my entire life” you plopped down on the couch, a hand resting on your stomach: “i’m so full i don’t think i'll ever be able to stand up again”.

as usual on Sasha’s Special Sundays, lunch had stretched for many hours; but the digestive fatigue was finally starting to kick in, as proved by the progressive decrease of everyone’s energy.

after bringing the plates back to the kitchen - where armin had volunteered for dishes duty - eren collapsed on the other half of the couch, swinging his legs across your lap with a slight wince of pain.

“still sore from yesterday?” you asked him, poking his calves with your index finger.

“yeah... guess it’s my punishment for being the best player on the team” he ironically told you. as much as he loved to appear confident when it came to basketball, you knew he was still blaming himself for his ‘tantrums’ during the game, as he had called them.

sat on the armchair, sasha was rummaging through her netflix watchlist for the hundredth time this week. even if some of you might’ve had some studying left to do for the weekend, there was no way you would be able to get your brains to work after such a meal. which is why mikasa and you had planned ahead and spent your entire saturday morning working on your assignments.

“i’ve been thinking...” eren spoke again, “it’s been a while since we all went out together”.

“it’s been a week” armin intervened from the kitchen.

“yeah, a while” eren replied without noticing his friend’s eye roll, “anyways, who’s down to go to the club with me on thursday?”.

“i am!” connie and sasha exclaimed in unison. but their answer was so predictable you were pretty sure eren wasn’t even asking them.

what was more uncertain, on the other hand, was your reply and mikasa’s; which probably explained why eren was pleasantly surprised to see that both of you accepted the invitation rather quickly. and to think he had prepared a series of arguments to convince you...

“i don’t even know why you keep asking me” armin told eren now that his answer was the only one left, “you’re gonna end up dragging me there anyways, whether i want it or not”.

eren did not even try to deny that, and he took it as a yes. his head resting on a couple of pillows, he looked satisfied to know that you would all be spending your thursday night as dutiful college students would. he liked going out with his classmates, but it was never as fun as going out with all of you.

but sasha had one last request before starting the random movie she had picked - one that everyone had seen at least twice - and you suspected it might be a request related to the hushed discussion she’d had with connie just a few seconds ago.

“can jean tag along?”

eren turned his head to the side to look at her. you already knew the pleading smile on sasha’s lips was making it hard for him to say no.

but although you were keeping a focused eye on the tv screen, you could feel someone’s gaze on you, and based on the angle, you figured it was most probably connie’s - who wasn’t one for subtle looks anyways.

“yeah... i guess they’ll let anyone in” eren shrugged, spreading faint chuckles across your living room.

during lunch, connie had courageously tried to make eren admit that yesterday’s game, as well as the evening you had all spent at jean and marco’s, had brought about a change of heart in him. but your friend had denied everything, only admitting something along the lines of ‘he’s more tolerable’, which was already a good start, in your opinion.

—————

on very rare occasions, sasha was in class and you weren’t.

this morning was one of these occasions, for the pure and simple reason that she and connie had an oral presentation around 10:30, for which they weren’t ready at all, and therefore, had decided to meet on campus an hour early to work on it.

as for mikasa, she had the misfortune to spend her entire morning in chemistry exams, for which she, however, had worked very hard.

in other words, you had the apartment all to yourself on this windy tuesday morning. and it seemed like a good opportunity to sort a few things out with someone who hadn’t quite left your mind since sunday.

but that’s not how you had phrased things when you had texted jean to ask if he could come over. no, it had been much easier to find a silly excuse like requesting his help in marketing - even though you barely mentioned that topic in one of your classes.

the truth was, you were just clinging to any excuse that would hide the fact that you just wanted to see him.

“are these new chairs?” he asked when you walked past the kitchen on your way to the living room.

it was barely 9:30 (you didn’t expect him to be so quick to come), yet he had declined any offer for coffee or tea.

“they are” you answered, and slowly came to the realization that sasha must’ve already invited him over at least once.

but based on the way he made himself comfortable on the couch, you began to think he had probably been there much more than once.

a few seconds of silence followed your last words, during which you tried to figure whether or not you should be looking at him. he certainly was looking at you, almost as if he was trying to find something hidden in your facial expressions.

“so” you cleared your throat as you sat down next to him, “about sunday...”

“aaand there it is” jean let out a sigh, pressing his lips in a thin line.

“shut up, let me finish” you protested, tucking your legs under yourself, “i want to apologize. i shouldn’t have told you to be nicer to your mom, it was none of my business”.

“you don’t have to apologize, you were right” he admitted, “i know i can be harsh with her”.

once again, silence fell upon the room. a more awkward, more tensed silence. something you felt could only be stopped by you being 100% honest towards him.

‘yes, i heard what your mom said about your ex. yes, of course i asked sasha about her. yes, i feel bad for you. and yes, i’ll understand if our relationship makes you feel too uncomfortable to keep it going until saturday’

four things to tell him, nothing more.

four things you’d had much time to think about in the last forty eight hours. yet jean had this fantastic ability of making you rethink everything without even being aware of it.

so you kept quiet and resorted to simply opening your laptop, which you had left on the coffee table before answering the door.

after stretching his arms up with a smothered yawn, he leaned forward to get a better view of your screen. truthfully, he wasn’t that good in marketing, but turning you down had been absolutely out of the question.

“oh, well this is actually pretty easy” he told you, and you hated how at ease he seemed when you were practically holding your breath from touching shoulders with him, “but your professor’s explanation sucks”.

the notebook he then pulled out of his bag looked like it had been through hell and back, filled with sheets of paper that were full of his messy handwriting.

‘go straight to the point and tell him you like him’ the memory of mikasa’s voice slowly reappeared in your brain, spiraling in your mind as you watched him open the notebook and place it next to your laptop.

“i don’t know about you, but i think this is much clearer” he told you, pointing at a few specific lines with the tip of a pen that had been lying around on the table, “or wait, i think i have a summary diagram somewhere on the next page”.

you still hadn’t said a word, and was gladly letting him lead the conversation. he seemed more confident than you; or at least, he did look confident until he abruptly slammed the notebook closed, just as he was about to turn the page.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brows when you noticed his eyes had substantially widened.

“nothing. i just realized i brought the wrong notebook” he explained, but didn’t even have time to put in back in his bag that you were already snatching it out of his hands.

“it looks like the right notebook to me” you told him suspiciously, already starting to look for the page you were both looking at just a few seconds ago.

“yeah well it’s not” he answered, already on the defensive, and tried to take it back from your hands. in fact, he looked a bit too defensive for someone whose only fault was to have brought the wrong notebook, “give it back”.

finally, for the first time since he had set foot in your apartment, you felt like you truly had the upper hand on something. and you were planning on keeping it that way.

“or what?” you teased him and stood up from the couch - any opportunity to delay working on marketing was good to take. your eyes were still set on the open notebook, as you frantically turned the pages in hope to find one that you’d recognize.

jean looked pretty panicked now.

“give it back” he repeated, which only made you run to the kitchen to win yourself some time. “you’re insufferable” he groaned, yet he couldn’t allow himself to ‘be the bigger person’ right now. he needed his notebook back. or rather, he needed you to not look at it for too long. so he followed you to the kitchen with hurried steps.

when he entered, the floor was littered with documents which used to be slipped between the pages. you would put them back, but later. once you’d know what jean was so desperately trying to hide from you.

unfortunately, retreating to the kitchen might not have been your best strategic choice. because once your back hit the counter, you couldn’t back away from him any further.

“gotcha” jean smiled victoriously once he had you cornered, before taking the notebook back in a frustratingly calm way - although he was dangerously close to you. had he leaned towards you just a little bit more, you would have felt his brown strands of hair tickling your forehead.

you paused for a second, looking straight into his eyes. you knew he was enjoying this, it was written all over his face. but that is precisely what you decided to turn to your advantage. you made the most of his moment of self-satisfaction to take a step forward, your arm extended towards the notebook, which he had carefully been keeping out of your reach.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pushing you back against the counter with his palm laying flat on your hips.

you wouldn’t have bet on it, but even he looked surprised by his sudden burst of confidence. it was paradoxal, the way his cheeks slightly blushed while his lips were stretching in a smirk.

but the person who spoke right after him wasn’t you.

jean didn’t immediately recognize the voice behind his back. but you did.

“OH GOD. i’m so sorry!” armin gasped, immediately turning away from you, “i thought no one was home!”.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, freeing yourself from jean’s grip without too much effort since he had already taken a step aside, startled by your friend’s intervention.

“i forgot my charger!” armin explained, his eyes barely open as he groped his way through the kitchen.

“open your eyes, we’re decent” you scoffed, before handing him the charger which he had, indeed, left next to the coffee machine.

“thanks” he told you, still cleverly avoiding any eye contact with you or jean and just staring at his feet. he was speaking abnormally fast, “i’ll knock next time. see you later”.

and he left as quickly as he had arrived, muttering a small ‘the only time i use their damn spare key...’ before closing the door behind him.

you knew very well that armin’s interruption would not remain a secret. eren would probably hear about it as soon as he would be back home. and so would sasha and mikasa. armin was a lovely guy, but he had a hard time keeping things to himself. although he preferred to say he was ‘keen on sharing information’.

at least that interruption had the merit of being a great help to you. jean was still a bit dumbfounded by what had just happened, and his grip on the coveted notebook was starting to loosen.

you snatched it from his hands with disconcerting ease, and this time, you knew exactly where to open it.

“don’t-” he started, but gave up on the next words. it was too late.

there was, just like he had told you, a summary diagram on the top right corner of the page. once again, you recognized his handwriting. his o’s that looked like a’s. and his h’s that looked like n’s. but that’s not what caught your eye.

right below the diagram, a multitude of pencil strokes were covering a large portion of the page. the sketch you were looking at was so dark that most of the details appeared in negative space; a technique you figured must have required a lot of practice. but the technique isn’t what surprised you; it was what it had been used for, or rather, who.

jean had taken a few steps back, unconsciously fleeing this situation which put him in a state of immeasurable anxiety. how long would it take you to recognize that every pencil stroke had been made in an attempt to reproduce every detail of your features? something which, by the way, had been no easy thing since he had only been able to catch glimpses of your face back then.

“when did you... draw that?” was the only question you could bring yourself to ask.

it wasn’t so much the sketch in itself that made you struggle to speak up, but the realization that never in your entire life had someone’s representation of yourself looked so beautiful.

“last week” he lied. it was embarrassing enough that you had found one of his drawings, you didn’t have to know that he had been admiring you from afar for about a month now, "can you give it back now?”.

“i didn’t know you could draw” you eluded his request, “it’s really good. you’re talented”.

“thanks. can you give it back now?”

“why me?” you asked, and the fact that you were blatantly ignoring him made him clench his jaw in impatience.

“why not?” he shrugged, but this time he didn’t bother to ask for the notebook, he just took it back by himself, his fingers briefly touching yours.

mikasa’s words came back to your mind in a split second, sinking deeper into your brain as you followed him back to the living room.

there were many more questions you wanted to ask about that sketch. pieces of information that weren’t useful per se, but that you were still curious about. however, you figured he wouldn’t be very willing to answer them since he didn’t even want you to see the sketch in the first place.

it was a pity, really. because jean still had vivid memories of the day he had made it.

three wednesdays ago, the weather wasn’t as warm as it was today. he remembered it had been raining for the entire afternoon, and that gloomy atmosphere was making it impossible to get any work done at his apartment. he knew himself too well, whatever stupid movie would be broadcasted on the tv would seem much more entertaining than studying.

so he had gone to the library, something he never did except for rare studying sessions with marco, usually after realizing that they were both very likely to fail an upcoming exam.

but that day, great minds had thought alike.

it wasn’t unusual for you to spend your afternoons at the library; you were usually accompanied by armin, with whom you really liked to share the kind of peacefulness that emanated from this place.

still, the probability of you coming across jean while walking out of the old building had been low; although not nonexistent.

you only held the door open for him for a couple of seconds, but that brief appearance of yours had remained engrained in his mind like a painting on the walls of his brain.

your fingertips that were barely holding the door handle, your other hand busy looking at the bottom of your bag for armin’s umbrella, the distracted tone of your ‘you’re welcome’ which had followed his awkward ‘thank you’. after that, he knew there wasn’t any chance for him to have a productive afternoon, study-wise at least.

so he drew, mostly; while mentally cursing sasha and connie for skipping so many classes, and therefore preventing him from seeing you much more often. if he couldn't bring himself to actually talk to you, he would’ve at least liked to see you.

it seemed that the only thing for him to be grateful for, at that moment, was the fact that sasha and connie had held their tongue. they knew jean’s interest had been piqued by you a few weeks ago, but based on your lack of reaction when you had held that door for him, he deduced that they hadn’t told you a word about it.

now that he came to think of it, did you even know who he was?

that was a question he had all afternoon to think about.

or rather, he would have, had his train of thoughts not been interrupted by the arrival of someone who had spotted him from the other side of the library.

“studying hard, i see” pieck’s voice - although nothing more than a whisper - startled him. she dropped her bag at her feet, and slumped down on the chair next to him.

“i’m taking a break” jean justified himself, immediately turning the page to hide his sketch from her curious eye.

“a pretty long break... you’ve been drawing for a while now” she corrected him, still keeping her voice down, and he wondered for how long she had been watching him. “nice sketch by the way. are you gonna give it to her?”.

shoot.

“obviously not” jean replied, and at that moment he felt so discouraged by his own answer that he thought about ripping the entire page off and throwing it in the trash, “it’s already lame enough to have a crush on someone who doesn’t even know my name, let’s not humiliate myself even more”.

pieck did not respond immediately. with her arms crossed, she leaned back in her chair and let out a sigh that jean did not really know how to interpret. it was the kind of sigh adults made after witnessing some sort of childish innocence.

her reply came after a few seconds of silence:

“you and porco... you’re the same” she stated very matter-of-factly, “you guys are the kind of people who feel empty when they don’t have someone to direct their affection towards”. she marked a short pause. “i think it’s really sweet”.

“it fucking sucks, you mean” jean mumbled, acerbic, and dropped his pen on the notebook. the nib added another messy line to his sketch.

pieck turned around to give him a glance: “it won’t suck when you’ll find someone who actually cares about you”, and that sentence alone had been enough to destroy any hope of actually getting some work done for the rest of the day.

in fact, that sentence had never really left his mind. sometimes it still prevented him from getting any work done, as it usually induced long sessions of self-reflection.

but right now, as he watched you sit back on your couch, he knew he couldn’t allow that to happen. no, he needed to be alone to sort his thoughts out.

“so... where did we stop before you started being annoying?” he asked, reluctantly opening that notebook once again. he absolutely loathed this page now.

you knew that, in order to answer that question, you needed to enter your password in your laptop - which had had plenty of time to put itself to sleep. but what your mind ordered, your body had some trouble executing.

the truth was that it was getting harder and harder to pretend that your eyes weren’t still drawn to that sketch, though in the least narcissistic way. because you weren’t looking at yourself, you were looking at a version of yourself that only existed in his mind. and there was something almost addictive about it.

your fingers hovering over your keyboard, you still hadn’t answered his first question when he asked another one:

“wanna keep it?”

in the blink of an eye, your gaze shifted from the notebook to his face. from the art to the artist. and you nodded without really thinking about it.

it’s only as he began meticulously tearing the page off that you were able to form a coherent sentence.

“do you draw your friends often?” you asked, still unable to look away from the sketch.

“only the good-looking ones” he replied with a faint smile, and the embarrassed chuckle that slipped out of your lips made him want to scream his lungs out against the pillows.

but he managed to keep his composure, and quietly began leafing through his notebook.

now that you were paying attention to it, you realized how many pages were missing. it seemed obvious that jean did not care much about his marketing notes, but your laptop had been inactive for too long for you to blame him.

“here’s sasha” he told you, pointing at the top left corner of a page dedicated to what looked like an analysis of customer behavior.

you scooted closer to him, leaning forward to admire how well he had captured her lively eyes. he, on the other hand, was admiring something else. you looked so amazed by his silly little sketches, it might have been the first time he felt proud of them.

in fact, and he practically cringed at the thought, it had been quite some time since he hadn’t felt proud of himself in general. except maybe at the end of saturday’s match... but it had been a different kind of pride. one that he knew had been mostly due to the sight of you cheering for him - no, for the team. you were cheering for the team, he reminded himself.

it was a stupid thought, but if his happiness had to be defined by his co-dependency for another person, he was glad his heart had picked someone like you.

jean did not even realize how much he was smiling until he took his eyes off of you to turn to the next page. he didn’t even need to tell you who it was, you would have recognized connie’s face amongst a thousand.

“i thought you only drew good-looking people?” you frowned, and he turned away to hide a snort.

“i’ll make sure to let him know about that comment...”

“i’ll make sure to let him know it made you laugh” you retorted.

“fair enough” he gave up, and let you turn to the next page. and to the following. and the one after... he didn’t have anything to keep from you anymore; so he just leaned back on the couch, fondly watching the excitement on your face every time you found another sketch hidden in the pages.

but the notebook eventually came to an end. and with it, you found yourself abruptly recalled to the reality of your own marketing lessons. but if your motivation wasn’t very high before, it surely was much lower right now. and this was something that jean seemed to quickly understand, based on the way you mirrored his position and rested your back against the pillows.

“what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, suddenly sitting up straight, “i don’t remember you letting me take such long breaks when we were studying at my place”.

you groaned reluctantly, but was forced to admit that he was right. luckily you really didn’t have much to do, and you figured it would be better to get this over with as soon as possible. so you got back to work - that is, if you had even started working at all - and, without much trouble, got everything done within fifteen minutes.

jean liked to think it was all thanks to him... and that’s what you let him believe. he looked too happy not to.

but he did not leave your apartment right away. and it slowly dawned on you that, for the first time since porco’s party, you had no particular reason to be spending time together, except for the simple enjoyment of each other’s company. but neither of you seemed bothered by that.

not once in the hour you spent together did the conversation fall flat. you remembered noticing the same thing the first time you had been to his place; but it was much more striking today, probably due to the almost vulnerable nature of the notebook episode.

in fact, you were pretty sure the conversation could have kept going for much longer, had sasha not come back home around 11.

“well this is disappointing” she stated when she entered the living room, staring at all the marketing-related documents spread on the table. “i thought you meant “studying” with jean”, she said with her fingers in the shape of air-quotes, “and not actually studying with jean”.

“what are you tying to say?” jean raised a hand to stop her from talking more, “that you would’ve preferred to walk in on us?”.

“ew. that’s kind of weird, sash” you backed him up.

both of you were now glaring her up and down, incriminating her with your eyes only.

“ugh, i forgot how annoying you are when you’re together” she sighed, already turning away from you, “anyways, i’m off to my room. don’t do anything i wouldn’t”.

“actually, i think i’m gonna head back home” jean stood up before she could walk away, “my classes start in an hour and i still have a few things to do”.

“oh yeah, of course” you stood up right after him, “thanks again for the help. and for...”, you told him, but didn’t need to finish your sentence for him to understand what you were referring to. the torn page still hadn’t left your hand.

“no worries. i felt inspired” he smiled at you, putting one arm in his denim jacket, “so, i’ll see you guys thursday. text me if you have any more questions”.

sasha and you both waved at him, but the looks on your faces were radically different. your face seemed stuck on a perpetual look of contentment. she, however, was just glaring at you with a mischievous spark in her eyes, which you pretended not to notice until jean had left the apartment.

“what?” you sighed, but as much as you tried to look annoyed, the corners of your lips still refused to go down.

she stayed silent on purpose. letting her grin speak for herself.

“sasha...” you repeated, more pressing, “just spit it out already”.

her grin did not fade, but she finally seemed inclined to talk:

“let’s just say that...”, she started before turning he back on you to head towards her room, “i haven’t seen that look on his face in a big while. and i surely have never seen it on yours before”.

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 27

Glass Shards

Warnings: None

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Over the next few weeks, they slowly prepared for the journey ahead. For nights on end, they sat together, heads bowed over maps they had borrowed from the innkeeper. They had considered taking a ship, but had both decided against it. The danger posed by pirates, sea monsters and storms was too great. The land route would take longer, but it wasn’t like they were in a hurry. As much as Damien wanted to fix this, he knew a few weeks more or less wouldn’t matter.

Merridy had recovered quickly and was soon as nimble as before. Only sometimes Damien could see her pause in mid-motion, her face contorted as if in pain, and breathing very carefully. When he asked her about it, however, she waved it off every time; telling him something about stitches in the side or that she had probably pulled a muscle. He didn’t believe her, but couldn’t get anything else out of her, and to his relief these incidents became less frequent. Those bruises had been worse than any he’d ever had, so it was understandable that it took a while for them to fade.

Damien was more than grateful that she had offered — insisted, really — to come with him. As much as it pained him to uproot her again, he didn’t think he would have been able to bear it to leave her behind.

As the weather grew steadily warmer, they finally dared to set a date for their departure. Merridy copied the map with the biggest roads and most important landmarks and sketched the planned route. She also got Damien a bag that he would be able to carry across his back with just one strap instead of a backpack, and they tried out how many clothes and other things would fit inside.

The contents of her chests and boxes, which had been steadily shrinking over the past few months, were subjected to close scrutiny. Merridy rummaged through her belongings, placing them in various piles, the meaning of which only she knew, and shoving them into a corner one day, only to bring them out again the next. Damien watched this for quite a while, until at some point he worked up the nerve to ask.

“What are you going to do with all this stuff when we leave?” His gaze wandered over the mountain of painted dishes and cloths in front of which she was squatting at that moment.

“Sell,” was her curt reply.

“But they’re your things,” Damien worriedly pointed out.

Merridy raised her eyes and grinned faintly. “Actually…” she began, presumably referring to her unconventional way of sourcing them, then shook her head. “They’re just things, Damien. The few I care about I’ll take with me, even though my back probably won’t thank me for it. But most of it,” she said, making an all-encompassing hand gesture, “is just stuff. I’m not going to read any of those books a second time. I don’t need a plate of” — she glanced at the object in her hands — ”painted daffodils or seventeen colorful silk scarves.”

The argument made sense to him. Strictly speaking, he himself owned nothing at all and hardly missed it. Nevertheless, he felt a little uncomfortable when he looked at the amount of things Merridy wanted to part with.

She stuck to her words. In the last days before the beginning of spring, the piles in the room became smaller and smaller, until one day even Damien could imagine that the rest would fit in their bags. They had each picked out the best-preserved, sturdiest clothes, and a pair of shoes, for spare. In addition to two newly purchased sleeping bags, they would keep the blankets, as well as some of the rags. When Damien’s bag was finally filled, they packed up the rest of the clothes and set them aside to sell them later.

In her own backpack, Merridy stuffed the rest of the things; flints, soap, mirror and razor, sewing needles and thread, wooden bowls, cutlery, two waterskins, and much more. As Damien watched all that she was putting into the bag, he had to admit that he himself would have thought of maybe half of it, if that. With the important items finally stowed away, Merridy went back to her stacks and fished out a few things. An obviously well-read book found its way into her bundle, as did the playing cards, cloth balls, a small painted wooden box, and an ornate dagger. When the backpack was already pretty well filled, she took a rag doll in her hand and stroked its brown wool hair and beady eyes. Damien saw her look, sadly assessing the space in the backpack, and wordlessly took the waterskins.

“If we roll up one of the blankets and tie it on the outside, these will still fit in my bag,” he said in response to her questioning look. Her happy expression as she fit the doll in the backpack made him shake his head. “Please Merry, I don’t want you to leave something you care about behind because of me. You’ve already given up so much for me. Take everything you want to keep, we will find a solution.”

He wasn’t sure if she would follow this request, but after a while she went back to the book box and took out two more. After some repacking, everything finally fit inside and she stretched with relief. “Done— ah.” She winced in mid-motion and leaned forward with a soft gasp.

“Merry!”

Damien had just placed the packed bags against the wall furthest from the door. He turned around to rush to her, but she stopped him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“I’m all right. Been sitting still too long.” She smiled at him, but he still watched anxiously as she carefully got up and then settled on the bed with a sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll sell the rest and in three days we’ll be on the road. I can hardly wait. What about you?”

Damien couldn’t quite shake off his worry, but he nodded in agreement. “Why don’t we get something to eat and sit at the beach while we still can? Perhaps one of those pastries?”

He grinned at her visible excitement, extending his hand in her direction to help her up. Side by side, they left the inn, strolling through the streets, sparsely populated on a rather cold and overcast day such as this. Still, when they arrived at the baker, there were two people before them, so they got in line. Damien turned towards Merridy.

“So what’s it gonna be? Sheep cheese or sheep cheese?” he asked.

Whatever reply he had expected, it wasn’t for her face to fall like this, for her to look away from him. Squinting at the blackboards above the stall, listing the regular as well as today’s special offers, she ignored him as he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

When it was her time to order, she picked something else, for the first time in months. It didn’t make sense.

“I’ll wait at the beach,” she said once she had gotten her pastry, still not looking at him. Damien stared after her as she hurried off.

When the merchant cleared his throat, repeating his question about Damien’s order, he didn’t have to think twice.

“Are you all right?”

Damien arrived at the beach a few minutes after Merridy. She was already sitting at their usual spot, one arm wrapped around her legs, holding her pastry in the other hand.

“Of course.” She looked up with a smile, but something still seemed off. “I’m a bit nervous, that’s all.”

With a sigh, Damien settled down next to her. The wind was chilly, but the sight was as beautiful as ever. Perhaps a bit more, even, with the water and sky as dark and gray as her eyes. He’d miss the ocean, the calming sound of the waves and the salty air.

A few minutes later, he found that he had barely taken three bites. He didn’t mind sheep cheese, but this one had little else in it. Glancing at Merridy, her progress seemed to be even slower. She took a tiny bite, grimacing as she chewed it. Damien was sure she wouldn’t if she had noticed him watching.

“Wanna swap?” he asked, deliberately looking at the waves in front of them. “Mine’s a bit bland.”

“Bland? Yours?” Her tone was incredulous, and he could feel her eyes on him. “That’s a first.”

Damien held out his hand, offering her the pastry. “Slight misjudgement,” he said.

There was a long pause. “Damien…”

When she didn’t say anything else, he finally looked at her, finding her staring at him. “Why?” she asked. He couldn’t interpret the look on her face.

“That one has dried tomatoes,” he said, gesturing in the direction of her pastry with his head. “You don’t like dried tomatoes.”

This time the silence stretched on for even longer. He didn’t dare to move, holding out his hand until she — finally — reached for his pastry. As soon as she had taken it, he bent to the side, to grab the other from her right hand before she could decide otherwise.

“That’s more like it,” he said, taking a bite. Dried tomatoes weren’t his favorite, but they were all right, and the garlic heavy bits of sausage in it were excellent. In fact, they were even spicier today than usual. “No won— hey, what’s wrong?”

Tears were not the reaction he had expected. Merridy was staring at her pastry, turning her head away as he addressed her. He regretted that he had sat down on her left side. There was no way for him to put his arm around her, even if he wanted to risk staining his clothes by putting the pastry down. All he could do was lean closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers.

“Merry, please. If I ever do or say something wrong, tell me.” He didn’t know what was wrong, and he probably wouldn’t get an answer if he asked again. But something he had said or done must have caused this, making her tremble even as she leaned against him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

Merridy said nothing, her head resting on his shoulder. After a while she started to eat, and Damien followed her example. He hurried to finish his pastry, so he had his hand free to at least reach for hers. With the fingers of her right hand interlaced with his, and her left arm around his back, it didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. There was no beautiful sunset to watch on a day like this, just the light of the day slowly fading. They stayed until the wind picked up, blowing sea spray into their faces as they got up, stretching stiff limbs.

Halfway to the city gate Damien turned his head, looking back at the beach. In the dim evening light he could barely make out the shapes of the cliffs towering over it, or the little hill where they had sat. How quickly the months had passed. How much his life had changed. Tomorrow, it would change again, and for the first time he found himself looking forward to it.

* * *

When the moment of departure came, Merridy found it harder to say goodbye than she had thought possible. The cook packed them two fruit cakes in addition to the provisions they had asked for, and Merridy thought she saw a little tear in the corner of her eye. Even the innkeeper bid them a fond farewell and gave them some well-intentioned advice along the way. Perhaps no wonder, since they had left a small fortune in his inn over the past months.

With each step they took toward the gates of Dragon's Reach, Merridy’s excitement grew. White rocks towered up, forming a gigantic portal that made the travelers before them seem tiny. The wings of the wooden gate were over ten meters high, wide open and firmly anchored in the ground. Next to the cliffs they nevertheless looked inconspicuous. Merridy wondered if they were ever closed at all. Two city guards stood on either side of the gate, boredly watching the sluggish flow of people arriving and departing.

Merridy had shouldered her backpack, and Damien carried the sack with her blankets and clothes. Both had opted for simple brown and beige pants and shirts, and while Merridy held a walking stick, Damien had strapped on a plain short sword. She had gotten it for him after selling the rest of her things, since he had insisted on carrying a weapon to protect her in case of emergency.

Again and again, Merridy’s gaze flitted to Damien, to his shoulder and his right arm, which he let hang loosely at his side. She didn’t even remember which of them had come up with the idea of creating this illusion. They had both agreed that it could only be an advantage not to look like easy prey on the journey. Although the Dragon Road was reasonably safe, there was always the danger of running into bandits.

At the gates of the city, Merridy turned around once again and looked back. Like every time she turned her back on a place that had been her home for a long time, she felt quite wistful. This time, however, the sadness stayed away. She wasn’t alone and she had a destination, so it felt less like a goodbye and more like a new beginning. She turned away one last time and then only looked ahead, at the paved, dusty path that wound through the fields.

Merridy had studied the maps for a long time. For the first few hours, the path would follow the course of the coast. Once they left the headland, at the tip of which was Dragon's Reach, they would walk through the plains of Nór. The ground was still sandy, the wind carried the smell of the sea with it, and seagulls flew screeching above them. But as the sun rose above its highest point, Merridy felt with each step how they were leaving the sea behind, how the hint of salt in the air faded, to be replaced by the scent of the first spring flowers.

They didn’t talk much that day, neither of them accustomed to walking for such a long time. Shortly after sunset they went in search of a suitable resting place and found it in a small group of trees not far from a stream. Both were so exhausted from the exertion of the long hike that they only quickly lit a fire, ate some bread, and then crawled into their sleeping bags.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup @kixngiggles @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

#Glass Shards #whump #fantasy whump #my writing

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hindisoup · 3 years ago

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15 week Hindi learning review

This is how I've been practicing Hindi during the past 15 weeks:

Writing (15 out of 15 weeks)

I've kept up with writing my video scripts weekly, even if this was the first week since last July I wasn't able to upload a new video on a Monday. The fun thing I've noticed is, that when I still occasionally use Google Translate when writing the first rough sketch of the script, I've started to write English sentences with Hindi structure to get the best results (eg. "to me seems that" > मुझे लगता है कि and so forth).

Listening (14 out of 15 weeks)

I've been listening to lots and lots of Hindi film songs again (falling in love especially with Dil ne yeh kaha hain dil se recently), and the audiobook of Devdas. I really like the reader's style and voice, it's so pleasant that I often listen to the audio multiple times during the week even without reading simultaneously. I'm already a bit sad that I'm halfway through the book and I have no idea where to find the next audio / physical book combo.

Speaking (12 out of 15 weeks)

I haven't been able to book a lesson with my iTalki tutor every week. In fact, I had to change a tutor for a while and that caused a small break too. I can notice some improvement in my spoken Hindi nonetheless. I've had more than one epiphanies regarding pronunciation (especially dental consonants) and I've finally understood the idea of Hindi intonation. It's still a work in progress to put that all into actual use in my speech though!

I've also noticed that I use some verb structures more readily. I still keep forgetting the ने and the genders of nouns when conjugating verbs, but I've been doing better with my archnemeses आना and जाना (always mixing them up!) and even using compound verbs when telling about my day ("मेरी गाड़ी बर्फ़ में फंस गई" - I was quite pleased when I just made up that sentence on a spot).

During these past weeks, I've talked in Hindi with a native speaker other than my tutor 7 times. I've realised though, that my time and energy are both limited and at the moment I cannot commit to making any set plans with any language partners for audio or video calls.

Reading (12 out of 15 weeks)

I've been reading Devdas more or less every week ever since I got my hands on it. I'm taking my time with it and really enjoying the journey!

On two or three occasions I read Akbar-Birbal stories with my Hindi tutor. It was a lot of fun. Actually, I started reading these stories for the first time before I could join a full sentence together in Hindi - so it was slow and tedious at first, but I really like these short and clever stories. It was nice to notice my development, I could actually understand the majority of the stories without stopping to translate every second word AND I was able to read Devanagari out loud.

Grammar (7 out of 15 weeks)

Like I posted some time ago, I finally finished my very first Hindi grammar book, Rupert Snell's Get Started in Hindi. It was the very first Hindi book I ever got ahead of my very first Hindi beginner course, so finishing it was just a tiny bit sentimental even. I was quite pleased to notice that I've progressed in my grammar and reading skills in such a way in just a tad over a year, that I had no trouble finishing the final exercises. One down, a pile to go!

I've also used Duolingo on 7 out of 15 weeks just to revise.

Watching (5 out of 15 weeks)

This time I've only watched a few films, and the two final episodes of Mismatched. I did add some series to my Netflix list but haven't gotten around to watching anything new yet. Why is it, that when you finally have the moment to watch whatever you'd like, it's so much more comfortable to see Main Hoon Na for the sixth time than something you've never seen before?

#language learning #study progress #hindi #study resources #study motivation #langblr #languageblr

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

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The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

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dave5422285 · 2 years ago

Text

Week 9 - Preparing a Scan for printing

At week 9 we were tasked to perform design iterations/adjustments to a bottle in the scenario context provided to us.

In referring to the Model making Case study of the Cup, Our sketch models were being made with the purpose to express our initial forms/ideas, feeling how it feels in the hand and other factors as to how the user interacts with the product. This is the similarities when comparing the cup models and our physical/digital models; being used to justify materiality, and interacting with the concept. The differences however was his unknown concept on how the cups will be held, and forming it into a physical model while our models was to visually see our ideas in the real world. Another subtle difference is the use of materials in the model used for the cup to represent the weight of the ideal materiality they were planning for. The physical model was used to present weight and interactivity while digital models are used to show the product visually (3D).

While following the Scan preparation process after class, The preparation of the scan was very different from how I envisioned it from a stand point where I had no experience in the field of digital modelling. I thought Once scanned we would be able to manipulate the scan, but that the process challenged and changed my thinking process because if we didnt do the right steps would make the finished rendered model look unclean, not taken care of. Because of this misconception where I thought it would be a 2 dimensional process, made it harder to proceed with the next upcoming steps. From doing this I realised I need to broaden my thinking rather than linear thinking, to allow myself to fully grasp the new concepts I'm taking in. This follows through in learning model making programs such as 3DS Max, Blender, etc. Addressing to issue I had last week of learning the new program ahead of me, I did go through the preclass-activity videos of 3DS Max tutorials, giving me a better grasp at the UI and tools. Although I wasnt able to present new tools to this weeks activity as we are doing minor adjustments, I will still need to revise them and apply them to future projects.

Like the scenario, I fixed the error where it said that the foam model was 5mm short, so I gave the fully scanned digital model height before doing minor adjustments. In my thought process, I recognized that the boss likes and enjoys this solid bottle design with its sides angling up and meeting, forming a masculine shape. In other words In adjusting the shape, I wanted to exaggerate that in a few forms, one being making the sides more angled, further giving that masculine look, the second exploring that sense through a curve, standing tall. Lastly making it slimmer, having straight lines and giving the model a refined solid look. I've got to admit, I thought doing digital models would be easy since I thought it was like a free-hand moulding platform but I was wrong. There were many times I thought I would be able to draw these Ideas or Iterations faster and better by hand but doing this process made me realised the final render of digital models allows you to see the product in all sides, giving you a fresh set of eyes when working on the model continuously rather than just instantly drawing what I imagine it to be. Although this was just a thought during the process in this activity, I will keep this in mind when deciding what is best in my future projects, and continue to evolve my digital program use.

The images below present the design Iterations I formed in comparison to the original. (I also dont have access to the 3D printer services so it will just be shown in Cura.)

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a-simple-gaywitch · 4 years ago

Text

Embers to Ashes

hotch x unsub!reader

Summary: When (Y/N) leaves the BAU, she doesn’t expect to get wrapped up in a crime spree

Word Count: 2609

Warnings: abusive relationship, pregnancy & mentions of childbirth, typical criminal minds violence

“The real monsters are humans without conscience.” -Robert E. Keller

Your decision to leave the BAU was not an easy one, but it was what was best. After your mother fell ill, you decided to move back home to care for her, as she was alone. Your team protested, not wanting you to leave, of course. Penelope fought for you to stay the hardest. She was like the sister you never had.

The team followed you to the airport to see you off. Hugs went around, followed by promises that you’d call when you land. The only person who didn’t hug you was Hotch, which you found weird for a number of reasons. Even Spencer hugged you, and he wasn’t big on physical affection. And you’d always thought you and Hotch were close.

“Hey, promise me you’ll keep in touch,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, of course,” you said.

“Oh, I need another hug!” Penelope said, squeezing you tight again. She’d been crying the whole time and her mascara was running. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Peaches.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Pen,” you said. You glanced at your watch. “Okay, I really have to go now. I love you guys so much.”

You were grocery shopping for your mother when you ran into him. Nicholas Gully, one of your old high school friends.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) (L/N)?”

“Nick! Hi!” you said, tossing the box of pasta into your shopping cart. “How have you been?”

“Oh, great. What about you? Big FBI agent out at Quantico.”

You laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, uh, I actually quit.”

“What? Why? All you talked about in high school was getting into the academy.”

“Uh, well, it’s because of Mom actually. She’s sick. I quit to move back out here and help her until she… Well…”

“Yeah. Well, I’m here if you need to, I don’t know, let off steam?” He handed you a business card. “Here. My number. Give me a call, we’ll go out for drinks or something.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Nick. It was good seeing you.”

Your mom died about a month after you moved home. You were an only child, so it was your responsibility to handle all of her affairs. It was stressful, and you felt isolated. Alone.

You looked at all the funeral plans spread out on the kitchen table, and before you knew it, you’d called Nick and asked him to come over.

What happened next was a blur. You buried your mother next to your father, Nick stayed by your side the whole time. While your mind was clouded with grief, you thought the only good thing to come of it was your new relationship with Nick.

He was nice. He treated you well and helped you through your grief. Only, he didn’t like how much you talked to Penelope and Emily, saying that it was unnatural to be so close to your ex-coworkers. So you stopped talking to them.

Nick moved in with you not too long into your relationship. He said that living in your mother’s house alone wasn’t healthy for you. He helped you sort and pack up her belongings, taking the things you weren’t keeping or throwing out to the thrift store.

You were together for about 8 months before your relationship changed.

You hadn’t been feeling well and you had your suspicions. You took a trip to the drug store and bought a few tests while Nick was at work. You took all of them, trying to rule out a false positive.

When you heard Nick come in from work, you decided to tell him.

“Hey, Nick? I have some news,” you said after he put his work bag down on the couch.

“What’s up?”

“Um, you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately? Well, I went to the pharmacy and picked up some pregnancy tests. They were all positive.”

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “I’m calling my doctor first thing tomorrow to schedule an appointment.”

Nick’s tone should have tipped you off to his true nature. But you were in too deep.

A few months passed. You were showing significantly, though your doctor was worried about your health. The bags under your eyes grew, and you were showing up to your appointments with more and more bruises on your arms. One day you came in with a poorly concealed black eye.

One day, you came home from a doctor’s appointment to see Nick packing some bags.

“Nick? What’s going on?”

“We’re going on a trip,” he said. “Roadtrip, it’ll be fun.”

“Nick, I’m 7 weeks away from my due date-”

“You’ll be fine,” he snapped, thrusting a bag at you. “Get in the car.”

You headed outside, Nick’s hand firmly on your back. He steered you away from your old clunker towards a shiny new SUV. “Did you buy a new car?” you asked.

“Sure, buy. Let’s go with that.”

“Nick, what did you do? What did you get us into?”

“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”

“Nick-”

“I said, get in.”

“Des Moines PD has a case for us,” Penelope said. “As do St. Louis, Louisville, and Charleston.”

“Carjacking?” Morgan asked, flipping through the case file. “Why are they asking us to come in?”

“It’s the same MO,” Hotch explained. “It’s a couple, a man and a woman, presumably his wife or girlfriend. They find a home just outside the city and take the car at night, leaving the previously stolen car.”

“They’re active at night? How do we know it’s a team?” Spencer asked.

“The second victim had security cameras installed. They caught glimpses of the couple, but not enough for us to identify,” Penelope explained.

“Why are they only bringing us in now?” Emily asked. “It says the first theft was over a month ago.”

“Because this one ended in a murder and assult. The surviving victims are at the hospital. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said.

When the team landed in West Virginia, Hotch divided the team up between the hospital, the crime scene, and the coroner’s office. Hotch and Emily took the hospital to interview the victims. One was a woman in her mid-30s, and the other was her 6-year-old son. The husband had been the murdered victim.

“Hi, Mrs. Foster? I’m Agent Hotchner,” Hotch said, taking a seat next to the woman with Emily. “Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”

“Well, I’m-I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to remember but…”

“Anything you tell us can help us catch these two,” Emily said, gently patting the woman’s hand. “We’re going to try something called a cognitive interview, to see what your subconscious picked up, okay?”

The woman nodded. “Okay.”

“Go ahead and close your eyes,” Emily said. “So, it was late. You and your husband were getting ready for bed. Then what?”

“Neil heard a noise,” she said. “He said it sounded like a man. He grabbed Micah’s little league bat from beside the front door. He told me to wait inside. Micah had fallen asleep on our couch and came to see what was going on. I-I heard Neil yell and I heard a gunshot. I ran outside and I saw a couple. A man and a woman.”

“What can you tell me about them? What did they look like?”

“I didn’t see the man too well, but the woman, well, I only saw her face. But she looked bad.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

“Well, her skin was sunken and sallow. She had bruises all over. She looked like she was ready to drop at any second.”

“Okay. What happened then?”

“Neil was bleeding on the ground. I-I ran over to him and felt for his pulse. It was already gone. Then the man hit my head with the gun, and I fell to the ground. But Micah- I didn’t know Micah followed me. The man pointed his gun at Micah. I was terrified. I thought he was going to shoot my son, too. But then the woman stood in front of the gun. She started pleading with the man. I was fading in and out of consciousness, but I heard her.”

“Nick, don’t!”

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to call me that, whore.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. But, please, don’t hurt him. He’s just a boy.”

“He saw our faces. You know the police are already on our trail. We can’t have a kid squealing to the cops.”

“No, I… I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?”

“He hit her,” Mrs. Foster said. “Hard. It was so hard I thought he shot her, too.” She shook her head. “After that, he knocked me out. I don’t know what happened next. I just remember waking up here.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” Hotch said. “This was very helpful.” Hotch and Emily got up to leave.

“Wait, Agent Prentiss,” she called after Hotch left the room. Emily turned around. “When you find them, go easy on the woman.”

“Why would you want us to do that?” she asked.

“I work at a battered women’s shelter. I see women like her all the time. She’s profoundly abused. She’s not a criminal, she’s a victim.”

Micah Foster was able to give a detailed description of the man to the sketch artist. Thanks to his description, they were able to track him down outside of Charlottesville, Virginia. What they weren’t counting on was seeing you, in the passenger seat.

Nick didn’t want to go down without a fight. But his idea of a fight was to use you as a human shield. He held you in front of him, his arm bracing against your throat. He had a gun in his other hand, training it on the team.

“You shoot, you hit her!” he said, pressing harder on your throat.

“Okay, okay,” Morgan said, holding his gun up in surrender. “We won’t shoot. Just let (Y/N) go.”

Nick turned the gun and pressed it to your temple. “Why are you so concerned about her?

“Because she’s a person,” Derek said, trying to negotiate. “She doesn’t need to get hurt.”

A gunshot went off. You screamed and stumbled forward, Morgan catching you. Nick fell to the ground, dropping his gun and gripping his thigh. Hotch had snuck up behind and shot him in the leg.

The next thing you knew, you were in an interrogation room with Hotch and Emily.

“(Y/N), what happened?” Emily asked you, her voice gentle. “You look awful. What did he do to you?”

Your eyes were trained on the table. “Nothing. He treats me with nothing but respect. I did this to myself.”

“(Y/N), we all know that’s not true,” Emily said. “Talk to us. You know us.”

You kept your eyes on the metal table and you stayed quiet.

“Damn it, (Y/N)!” Hotch yelled, slamming his hands on the table. You flinched back, closing your eyes and wincing like you were bracing for a hit. Hotch took a step back. “Prentiss, take over.”

He left the interrogation room and stormed over to the second room where Morgan and Reid were interrogating Nicholas.

“Hotch-”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Hotch nearly screamed, his blood boiling.

Nick smiled. “I didn’t do anything, she did it all to herself.”

“We both know that’s not true, you piece of-”

“Aaron!” Rossi said, cutting him off. He then proceeded to pull Hotch from the interrogation room. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Hotch took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. “You saw her, Dave. You saw what that asshole did to her. You saw her flinch away from me. That’s a woman who has faced down some of the worst humanity has to offer, and she’s been so badly abused that she’s…”

“Aaron, you know what abuse does to people. We’ve seen it more times than I ever want to count.”

“But it’s never been someone we know. It’s never been someone we love.”

“Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Why don’t you sit this one out? Prentiss and I can handle it.” Rossi walked into the room and sat next to Emily. Emily had given you a glass of water.

“(Y/N), why did you save the mother and her son?” she asked you.

“I don’t know,” you said, twisting the glass around in your hands.

“(Y/N).” Emily reached out and put her hand on yours. “You specifically looked out for the boy. Why?”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “Nick made me leave mine,” you whispered.

“What?”

“He said she would slow us down, that she was a burden. He made me leave her at a church. I didn’t even get to hold her.” After that, you broke down sobbing. Emily slowly crossed to the other side of the table and cautiously put her arm around you.

The team worked out a deal for you with the DA. You would be acquitted if you testified against Nick, and you would be closely watched by the team.

“She can’t keep sleeping on the couch in the conference room, Hotch,” Rossi said as the team gathered in the bullpen. You were asleep and the team wanted you to have peace. “She can come stay with me. Lord knows I have the space.”

“Wait, why should she stay with you? She’s my best friend,” Penelope argued. “She can stay with me.”

“Babygirl, you don’t have a spare room,” Derek reminded her. “I can take her in.”

“She just spent the better part of two years under the thumb of an alpha male, do you think she’d feel comfortable staying with another one?” Emily said.

“Did any of you think maybe she should make her own choice?” Spencer piped up. “I mean, she hasn’t been able to make her own choices, I think we should at least give her that.”

“Reid is right,” Hotch said. “We should let her make the choice. And please, don’t pressure her. She’s not the same (Y/N) she was when she left. She’s been through hell and back.”

In the end, you chose to stay with Aaron. Something about him made you feel safe. Slowly but surely, you started warming up again. You spent your days taking care of Jack when Hotch was on cases. When Aaron was home, he spent time with you and Jack. The two of you grew closer and closer.

You’d stayed with Aaron for a few months before there was a shift in your relationship. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you and Aaron were closer. You became more comfortable with physical contact, and you found yourself curling up on the couch with Aaron for movie nights after Jack went to bed.

You kissed Aaron first. He’d come back from a case with a book he knew you’d been wanting to read. It was something simple, but it meant the world to you, knowing there was someone who listened to you and wanted to do something nice for you.

Your relationship blossomed from there, and Aaron made sure to show you he respected you and never wanted to hurt you. Of course, there were bad days and there were days you argued, but Aaron never raised a hand against you. He never wanted you to experience the pain Nick caused you ever again.

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is like the difference between a lightning bug and the lightning.” - Mark Twain

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #x reader #em's fics

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

Note

How long do you usually take to plan for a really long story/comic? Do you do a rough plan or a fully detailed one? Any apps you use for planning?

Thank you in advance!

It depends on the project. For my long-term series, it definitely takes me a good while to finalize everything from start to finish, but as a general rule, I try to keep my writing one step ahead of where I'm drawing, for two purposes: so I can have a goal in mind to propel the comic forward (I don't want to be writing or drawing on the fly more than I have to), and so I can have enough planned ahead for editing, because by the time I get to the thing I've planned, my writing has likely grown more and my perspective on it has shifted, so I'm not releasing "first takes", so to speak.

Usually I use LibreOffice and just sort of keep a few separate files for different purposes. I always have a "[story] shit" file of some kind where I just dump thoughts and notes that I don't wanna lose lmao but then I usually also have a file that's meant for outlining. I think Rekindled is the first comic where I haven't employed my spreadsheet method, which is when I'd use Excel/Spreadsheets to lay out panel descriptions and dialogue. So like this:

(Episode 14 of Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH])

Rekindled is more just note-taking, what I want to happen in each episode, and if there's any dialogue I come up with that I definitely want to include, I write it down in there. I've done all of Rekindled's process through Scrivener, which I learned how to use shortly before starting it. IDK yet if I like Scrivener enough to use it for my bigger projects, but it's been helpful for organization and keeping my files all in one central "hub" area.

So right now I have up to about Episode 70 drafted out like that ^^^ but things do change during the actual production of the episodes. Sometimes I'll write something in my notes that doesn't flow well in actual comic form. Sometimes I'll write dialogue during the sketching stage that I don't like anymore by the time I get to the final rendering. It's all a stage-by-stage process from drafting to final release.

The question of "how long" really just comes down to the note-taking process. I tend to work in bursts, the last time I did any written episode layouts was a few weeks ago and that was because I got like, 40+ episodes done in a day LOL So I'm all set for the next little bit, but I'll have to get back to planning by Episode 50 if I haven't done any before then. I'd like to have the entirety of Rekindled plotted out by the end of the year so I can get a more exact answer of how long Rekindled will be :' )

When it comes to software/apps, keep it simple, use what you know. I've been using standard word editors and spreadsheets for years now because it works for me. Scrivener's been fun to learn but as I mentioned, IDK if I'm gonna be able to stick with it for bigger projects like Time Gate because it feels like I'm wearing different shoes that I'm not used to lol But that's just me, feeling "at home" with my software is just an important thing to me, for others it might not matter so much. Scrivener definitely has the most features for drafting/writing/editing, but it's also not very beginner-friendly and there's a huge learning curve to really understanding how the software is designed and what it fully offers.

There's also Plottr which I've been using for [AFTERBIRTH], it's really helpful for people who need visual aids because it allows you to lay out story timelines through imagery. But I really only use it for laying out story beats from end to end, I don't use it much beyond that, any extensive note taking or scripting happens in actual word documents.

(idk if this is how you're actually supposed to use Plottr but it's how I use it so w/e lolol)

Ultimately it's all up to you, what works for me might not work for others so don't be afraid to try things even if it ends up not working out for you. Obv that might be a bit more of a "nah" when it comes to paid software like Scrivener and Plottr, but there are loads of tutorials on Youtube that teach you how to use the software that you can hopefully use as a glimpse into how they work to see if they'd be up your alley before paying money for 'em.

Hope that helps! ˋ( ° ▽、° )

#lore rekindled #lore rekindled comic #projectreaper #projectreapercomics #writing process #writing tips #ama #ask me anything #anon ask me anything #anon ama

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kuyajermsss · 2 years ago

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Ang bilis ng July grabeee hahahaha. I guess if you really have a busy schedule, you’ll never notice how fast the days go by hehehe. Ang daming nangyari so I’ll just share everything down below:

WARNING: Long post ahead.

On medication

The doctor prescribed me on meds last April, but I was really hesitant to take it because of the side effects and possibly the long term damage on my body. It took me 2 months before I decided to try it hehehe.

A month after taking the meds, I was asked to do a lab test just to check any repercussions. Thankfully, wala naman. She just said to continue taking the meds for 5 months. Honestly, the meds are too pricey so goodbye sahod talaga huhuhuhu~

Ortigas Art Festival

While preoccupied on my meds, the post about Ortigas Art Festival appeared on my feed a week after July started. Sadly, we were not able to attend their first workshop, but since it’s a month-long event, I registered on some of their upcoming workshops and activities I’m interested to. Good thing it was scheduled every weekend so no conflict with my work.

Mr. Thomas Daquioag, a professor from UST College of Fine Arts discussed preservation of art. He tackled proper techniques how art should be stored considering the climate here in PH and few factors why art deteriorates, etc. Actually, his talk was a bit underrated I think? Few people participated, mostly targeted art curators and collectors, so di ko rin sure bakit kami nandun hahaha but it was fuuun!

Mr. Arjanmar Rebete, discussed mobile filmmaking. Now I won’t bore you with the details but if you read my prev post, his talk was the reason why we decided to join the contest. Ayun, my takeaway: your smartphone may be small, but imagine the big stories it can tell. That’s how powerful mobile filmmaking can be.

Mr. Lilit Reyes, the writer of Changing Partners (if you haven’t watched it yet, pleeease watch this masterpiece), discussed screenwriting. The topic was not new to us given our college degree, but my god he’s so good! Yknow the structure of screenplay, on point gago! I’m really amazed! Iba talaga when you’re speaking from experience. Ang dami kong natutunan na di tinuro ng prof ko lol hahahaha. I swear, he’s that goooood!

*Side note: by the time screenwriting workshop happened, we were already done with the shoot, but pending post-prod. So while listening to Mr. Lilit Reyes talk, somehow we were recalling if we did the screenplay right hahahaha.

Aside from workshops, there were art activities as well like pottery, paper cutting/sculpture, wood carving, and live portraiture sketching. May fashion show din, ballet, and exhibit. *Check Jade Gacuan’s painting here.

Film showing

Also part of the Ortigas Art Festival was film showing of Lino Brocka’s ‘Insiang’ and ‘White Slavery’, and Ishmael Bernal’s ‘Manila by Night.’ The only film we didn’t watch was ‘White Slavery.’ The films shown were newly restored version.

Anyway, I liked Insiang better than Manila by Night. I have already watched some of Brocka’s films so I’m already familiar with his style, and I really love his storytelling. Nonetheless both films were good!

‘Sa Bahay Lang’

Going back to our production (perhaps I’ve already told you some of these), the script was written immediately after we got home from the workshop. Nag-allot ako ng 5 days for pre-prod, including casting call, script revisions, ocular visit, set preparation, production design, and dry-run of technical equipment. Since it was a one-day shoot, I had to make sure everything’s okay.

On the actual day of shoot, everything went well according to plan, aside from the time of course hehehe. We extended an hour just to shoot the remaining scenes. Then another week allotted for post-prod. I don’t wanna rush the editing bc I know how delicate it is even if it’s just 2 mins. Hindi na ko masyadong nag-ambag sa editing, I only reviewed the shots, the audio, subs, and scoring.

So ayun, we’re able to submit our entry on time naman, just a few minutes before the deadline ganun hahaha. *Check the stills here.

Goodbye Apple Watch

You might remember my listing here re selling my Apple watch hahahaha.

Initially posted it on Facebook marketplace, pero sobrang tumal so I had to bring my A-game. I joined multiple groups and posted the listing there as well. I think I got 26 inquiries overall, but only one of them agreed to my selling price. I told him he can get it lower pa if he’ll pick it up in Pasig hahahaha, he declined lol. So we agreed to meet in Greenhills, and it was a smooth transaction. Easy money baby hahahaha.

So that’s it for me this July hehehe. Hello August!

#personal #July

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elriell · 4 years ago

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Thank you very much! I find it hard to cut them back and be less detailed to be honest. So let’s dive in to it, two quick points before we start;

There will be no hate here as every ship is valid, I simply going to explain why I believe Elriel is more likely to happen than Elucien. (IMO)

Secondly, if there’s one thing for certain with SJM it is that nothing is certain with her.

Of course like any reader I am nervous for what might happen but looking at it textually speaking I do not think we have much to worry about... Not to mention that if we look at SJM past behaviour we can extrapolate several things.

When Sarah falls in love with a character she is very willing to shift all plans to accommodate them, we have a good example of this with Rowan, once she began writing him she fell in love with him and Chaol was quickly pushed aside. I am sure she has done plenty of interviews saying as much from memory.

SJM Live

- Azriel has a lot of shit going on that we’re going to be able to see in this book.

- Azriel’s song is Mr. Brightside for the vibes. Not necessarily the lyrics. SJM is kinda obsessed with him and telling his story in the future.

- We’re getting to see more of Azriel’s cheeky humor in this one.

- SJM can’t wait to see theories after everyone reads Azriel’s pov. There’s a lot of crumbs that have been scattered around for his journey. [ref]

It is safe to say that in her own words Sarah is obsessed with Azriel, which gives us a good idea about who she wants to write about next. This is the same vibe we got off her when she was introducing Rowan to the TOG universe and I think it is a pretty easy assumption to believe the next book is Elain’s too.

Not to mention SJM is not afraid to shake it up and swap out the LI you think it will be, Chaol/Rowan & Tamlin/Rhysand. It is not far fetched to think she would do the same with Elain and Lucien. Not to mention the idea of such a repetitive story ARC like Mates (after Feysand and Nessian) could easily be avoided by doing something like a rejected-bond or second bond.

I really could not tell you what I think Azriel’s ARC/what he is dealing with is because we have so little information on him all I know is I cannot wait to read it all. He is easily one of my favourite characters, he is so mysterious to us.

I think Elain’s ARC is going to be all about choice. And we know from SJM that you can have more than one mate.

Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

“to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

As far as I am concerned if you look at all SJM couples from all her books there is always that initial Spark™ and I think that impartially if you look at Elain and Lucien they have not had it at all (bar maybe the moment he scents the bond), Elain is completely disinterested in him. In the bond as a whole.

“if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

See? SPARK, literally and figuratively.

You could even argue that she was you know, really struggling at the time the bond snapped in to place so it wasn’t the time for them but then we are given Azriel as a mirror to the situation and we see despite her troubles she is capable of interacting with someone without disinterest. Can and has been attracted too, can smile and laugh with someone despite being upset over Graysen.

Examples;

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

“Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.

“And do what?” “Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.”

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“You as well.” A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

“There were only a few presents left—Lucien’s. [...] I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Again like I said, textually when we look at it all together Sarah is not exactly planting the seeds for them at all, now of course there is still time for that to change, and of course we only have a limited perspective but as a reader it doesn’t come across positively. Even if you consider Nessian who have been against each other from the start have had the seeds planted, even as they argued they had tension and emotion.

Sarah has given Elucien so little of anything positive or negative comparitively, it is like the are barely registered.

Not to mention she puts across Azriel as a candidate time and time again, and as a writer you would not do that for nothing.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

SJM is sowing doubt at every turn. Then to top it off we are introduced to Vassa through Lucien, and now we finally see him have a spark, blush, and speak of her with almost worship as Feyre points out.

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.”

Now, I can understand the belief that Elucien could be endgame but you simply cannot deny that before that Elriel & LucienxVassa is going to have to be explored to a degree.

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …”Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

We also see both couples paralleled. I mean in all honesty I could go on and on and on, there is so many qoutes that I could add but this will just get longer and longer. I am going to link my full Elriel Analysis, and some other stuff about them and rejecting the bond below.

As for our fox boy Lucien!

I really like him, and I do feel like he has a very interesting journey ahead, between his true paternity, Vassa and the mating bond he has a lot coming up for him. I am excited to see where the band of exhiles might take us, despite Feyre’s mockery I am excited that after so long of not belonging anywhere he may have found people to call his own.

Look if Elucien happens after a genuine build up, I will be happy to read their journey, of course I will be very disappointed for Elriel because I truly believe they are the best fit but I am not against Elucien if anything I think Sarah is, more than anyone else.

Like I said I could go on for years, and honestly in 9 days hopefully we have a better idea of the future to base our opinions on.

I am tagging this Anti-Elucien, not that I feel it is but I don’t want Elucien shippers to have to see it, so if they blacklist the tag the can avoid the negativity ❤︎

[Elriel Meta] [Elriel Kindred Spirits] [Elriel Choice 1 & 2] [Garden] [Thoughts]

#elriel #acofs #acotar #elain archeron #azriel #elriel discussion #anti elucien #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #meta #elriel meta #anti-elucien

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tipsycad147 · 3 years ago

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Going to a faery festival? Costume tips and ideas

by Michelle Gruben

One of the best parts of attending any festival is putting together a killer outfit. Faeries especially love fashion, frivolity, and the art of disguise. But budget, weather, and travel concerns can have any faery feeling less than magickal. Costuming for outdoor festivals is challenging, but it’s worth it when you get to run around with other faeries in a beautiful natural setting.

Are you going to Faerieworlds? Glastonbury? Or another faery festival or Renaissance faire? Here’s some ideas to help plan the faery costume of your dreams.

Inspiration

Maybe you already know what kind of Fae you want to portray. A fairytale godmother with a giant updo and a poufy skirt? A lusty satyr with body paint and a loincloth? If you’ve already got the character idea in your head, start by drawing out a few quick sketches. (Don’t worry—you don’t have to show them to anyone.) Drafting out a plan will help you figure out what costume pieces you need to obtain. There’s no need to be too practical at this stage—let out your wildest ideas out on the page.

If you’re stumped, try looking at books, movies, and past festival photos for inspiration. Keep a folder of your favorite accessories and ideas. Borrowing like crazy is totally encouraged: Victorian, Gothic, Steampunk, Disney, Renaissance, Medieval, Lolita, D&D/LARP, Hippie, Psychedelic, Rave, Circus, Gypsy, Ballet, Carnivale, Tolkien and Tribal fashions have all had a notable influence on the garb that appears at Faery festivals. Look up any of these styles to uncover a wealth of inspiration--then combine at will!

Budget

In a perfect world, we faeries could just close our eyes, wiggle our nose, and (poof!) be transformed into a fantasy fashion plate. But we live in the (sigh) real world where money exists (and costumes cost a pile of it. A ready-made getup from a costume shop or clothier runs several hundred dollars or more, plus accessories. You gotta stay within your budget if you want to have any money left over for your ticket to the ball.

Fortunately, it is possible to put together a worthy costume without spending all the gold in Middle Earth. Faeries can be a scrappy lot, and nothing in the faery wardrobe need be shiny and new. What you do need is time. If you’re going to be scrounging, adapting, and making most of your costume, start early (like, several weeks before). Plus-size and teeny-tiny faeries may need even more time than that to find clothing in their size.

Thift stores and even your own closet can yield great base garments for your faery costume. Gypsy skirts, vests, sundresses, tunics and tights can all be easily modified or embellished. (Big tacky prom dresses are a great source for yards and yards of tulle!) Craft stores have fake flowers, ribbons, and feathers galore. Fabric scraps can be become appliques, junk jewelry can be taken apart and turned into faery bling.

It helps a lot if you can sew. If you can’t, take a class or have someone show you the basics. Faery sewing doesn’t have to be perfect—the messier, the better, really! But it sucks to have something fall apart the first time you wear it.

If you go the DIY route, be realistic. Some costume pieces take a lot of skill and are worth every penny. A circle skirt is relatively easy for a beginner to sew—a corset, not so much. It might be worth it to splurge on a purchase that will save you a giant headache. Plan ahead and build it into your figures—shopping at the last minute is a sure way to blow your budget.

Big multi-day festivals like Faerieworlds give you the opportunity to create multiple costumes and wear a different one each day. There are also various themed events (like Good Faeries/Bad Faeries). Obviously, this can get really expensive and cumbersome for travelers. A new hairpiece, overskirt, or bodice can freshen up yesterday’s costume (or last year’s) if a whole new outfit isn’t in the cards.

Transportation and Packing

While admiring your new 36” wings in the closet mirror, you realize that you have to get them to the festival. Oh crap. Make sure there’s enough room in your vehicle or luggage to bring the costume(s) you’re planning to wear.

Fabrics like rayon, silk, and cotton voile are wonderful for traveling faeries because they’re lightweight, compact, and wrinkle-resistant. With any luck, you can just shake them out upon arrival and be ready to go. But other accessories aren’t so forgiving. Pack flower wreaths and headdresses in boxes (if you can) to prevent crushing. Small wings can be folded and packed between two layers of stiff cardboard. A mesh cover is great for keeping wigs in line. One more tried-and-true faery travel rule: Anything with glitter gets its own bag.

Lost luggage is pretty rare on commercial flights, but of course that knowledge won’t help you when the airline loses the suitcase with your Swarovski-encrusted bodice. Valuable or irreplaceable costumes should be carried with you at all times.

Being Prepared

Outdoor festivals come with a special challenge for costumers: The weather. Over the years, Oregon’s Faerieworlds has been held in weekend-long rain, scorching sun, and plenty of fair-weather days.

You can’t exactly have a different costume for each weather possibility. But you can plan to dress in layers and still look the part. Toasty leggings and an elf cape are good things to have if the weather turns chill. A stylish parasol is handy if you’re not a dancing-in-the-rain type faery.

In addition to rain and wind, your costume will probably come into contact with the following: Sweat, perfume, sunscreen body paint, copious glitter, mud, sticky children, intoxicated adults, UV light, animals. Oh well. Your costume will definitely be tested for durability by the festival. So will your feet!

Live music and dance performances are a big part of many faery festivals, so don’t let your costume be a buzzkill. Accessories like stilts, oversized wings and headresses may block the view of the stage and keep you from dancing. Have a plan for ditching them so you can join the crowd, if you wish.

In case of an emergency, you should have a set of human clothes, too. (I know! Boo!) You can leave ‘em in your duffel bag until it’s time to go home.

Last-Minute Faeries

Okay, so not everyone is able to spend months planning a festival costume. If you’re down to the wire, but you still want to look faery-fabulous, there are options. Lots of stores have off-the-rack clothing that fits the general vibe: Sundresses, bohemian-style skirts, blouses, tunics and leggings. Top it off with a festive wreath or garland and you’ll be fit for the faire.

If you’re still feeling drab and human, try another accessory. A bright hair color, horns, mask or face paint can help transform you into a Fae creature. These things can almost always be found within the festival gates. In fact, if you’re truly strapped for time, you could do all your costume shopping at the festival—the vendors will thank you for it!

Have fun at the festival, and don't forget to take pictures!

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/going-to-a-faery-festival-costume-tips-and-ideas

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