hello! a bit late but i wanted to give a shout-out to some of the posts that were made in 2021 that i thought were just incredible - everything’s linked below and tagged on my blog as #vyir for a quick scroll
thanks for sharing your creativity and talents with us all - happy new year! wishing you all the best.
For rainbowvamp and gremlinbehaviour! I love you both so much!!
My first practice with my new drawing tablet! I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, not quite happy with Merlin but I think Lancelot looks good! (I need more practice!)
Oooooh ooooh ooooh!!! Thanks Nony, I loved this one! I did have a little trouble writing it for some reason, I scrapped and started again four times before I got to this version, so I hope everyone likes this one
Merlin ducks as Lord Lucior swings a fist at him, bouncing away on the balls of his feet. The lord snarls and picks up the sword Merlin has just finished sharpening. He hefts it in his hand to test its weight then raises it towards Merlin, who is beginning to resent the fact Arthur lent out his services to the visiting nobleman.
“I don’t like your attitude, boy,” he hisses.
He slashes towards Merlin with the sword and Merlin only barely moves out of the way in time. He is backed up against the wall of the armoury, a quiver of arrows tumbling to the floor as he flails to get away from the lord’s second violent swing of the sword.
“I’m sorry!” he shouts quickly, not entirely sure what he’s apologising for.
“You will be very sorry when I’m through with you,” Lord Lucior promises.
The sword flashes forward faster than Merlin is ready for and he feels a sharp sting on his cheek. He lets out a small yelp and his fingers come away bloody when he raises them to touch the painful spot on his face. The lord just gives a satisfied smirk, raising the sword again for the next strike.
Wide eyed, Merlin dodges, his foot landing on a dropped arrow and slipping, sending him careening to the floor. He scrambles backwards across the floor to a large shield propped against a sword rack, ducking down behind it.
“Hey!” comes a shout from the doorway and Merlin’s heart soars at the familiar voice. Gwaine steps into the armoury, his cloak and chainmail draped over his arm. “What’s going on here?”
“Go away, this doesn’t concern you,” snaps Lord Lucior, waving a dismissive hand at Gwaine.
Gwaine scowls and flicks his hair out of his face. He glances over at Merlin, taking in the way he is almost cowering behind the shield and the blood on his cheek. He tosses his chainmail and cloak over one of the sword racks, fury radiating from every line of his body.
“Actually, it concerns me a lot how you’re treating my friend.” He strides across the room and grabs Merlin’s hand, pulling him up. He gives him a once over, his eyebrows pulled low as he checks Merlin is not severely injured. His jaw is clenched as he turns angrily to Lord Lucior and Merlin can feel the muscles in Gwaine’s arm straining under his hand as he fights to hold his temper. “I suggest you leave now and never touch him again.”
“He is an insolent peasant, and needs to be taught a lesson.” Lord Lucior raises his sword again, pointing it at Merlin.
Gwaine, his face like thunder, pulls Merlin behind him, his hand coming to rest on the pommel of his own sword warningly.
“Get out of the way,” Lucior shouts.
Gwaine lets his knees bend, crouching into a fighting stance as he draws his sword from his belt.
“Make me,” he growls.
Lucior snarls and lunges at Gwaine, his sword flashing as he slices down towards the knight. Gwaine, of course, is much quicker, parrying and knocking the lord’s blade point away, followed by a blow of his own that Lucior only just manages to stumble out of the way of. He is not a natural swordsman and Gwaine easily takes control of the fight.
Gwaine doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing, instead diving in with a quick sideways swing. Lucior pulls his sword up in time to block but Gwaine steps forward, pushing his advantage and sliding his blade along Lucior’s until the hilts lock together.
He twists the sword easily from the lord’s grip, letting it clatter to the floor, then presses him back against the wall. His blade is against Lucior’s chest, pressing tightly so the sharp edge slices the front of his fancy velvet doublet.
“I’ll tell the prince regent about this!” screams Lucior, indignation written in every line of his face.
“You just try,” Gwaine spits. “I think he’ll be very interested to hear about the way you treated his manservant.”
Gwaine steps back, pulling his sword away, but unable to resist flicking the tip at Lucior’s face, a thin red line marking his cheek the same as Merlin’s.
The lord is practically spitting with rage, but he is sensible enough to not make any more comments and merely pushes past Gwaine and leaves the armoury, his hand pressed to his cheek.
“That is why I hate nobles,” Gwaine says through gritted teeth, barely controlled anger simmering in his voice as he glares after him.
Merlin lays a hand on his arm, giving it a little shake. He huffs a sigh and turns to him.
“Thank you,” Merlin says as Gwaine drops his sword onto the table so he can cradle Merlin’s face with one hand, the other pulling his sleeve over his hand to wipe gently at the cut on Merlin’s cheek.
“Anything for you, Merls,” he mutters. Then shoots him a cynical smile and says wryly, “If he does tell Princess, I’m gonna be in trouble again, aren’t I?”
Merlin can’t help grinning, even though it does pull at the cut on his cheek. He shakes his head at Gwaine.
My second practice with my new drawing tablet! I’m pretty pleased with this one too! (I do think I went a bit too realistic with Gwaine’s beard… doesn’t quite fit with the cartoonish style of the rest….)
Arima, Akira and Haise are pounding mochi (rice cake) in the image. Both Arima (presumably) and Akira are carrying wooden hammers while Haise’s job is to moisten the mochi using water.
Each of them take turns in pounding the mochi while trying to maintain a certain rhythm, each of them saying ‘hai’ when it is their respective turn. Doing this activity requires trust, practice, teamwork and synergy between the participants as a simple mistake may lead to injury.
