DREW MY NEW OC AGAIN...!! tried to make his outfit(uniform) look a little more coherent this time... heheh... for someone who sucks at designing clothes this doesn't look too bad...?! 🫣
+ here's the first drawing again for comparison☺️:
i like his face/hair here but yea wanted to improve the placeholder outfit... kept the colors tho!!
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Text:
"you hate this photo, your mother kisses it when she goes to sleep, she kisses it like a rosary. she holds it like a prayer. she asks herself where you went. she tries to forgive herself for not knowing one day would be the last you smiled wide enough to scrunch your nose up. she forgives herself for not remembering it. you hate yourself. you hate the way the fat on your body rolls and undulates, you know the flesh on your bones in this picture must be an illusion, its unbefitting of g-d."
"your father asked you to do a second photo 'with a nice smile this time'. you want him to be happy, and smile when he sees you."
"when they bury you it is in a closed casket, they tell your mother what you have done. she can't hear them over the way you laughed in 1991. her baby is 5. 5 and still growing."
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Summer 1996, or later. Severus & Muireann are spending some time on the coast of France.
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It was another of those bright, lazy summer mornings. A gentle warm breeze was coming through the open window, carrying scents of pine and salt, and the song of waves and joyful birds.
He had gotten up a bit earlier. She hazily remembered him planting a soft kiss on the corner of her lips as she was dozing back to sleep. A grin split open her freckled face as she stretched like a cat; she put on a light robe, shook the duvet and folded it back neatly to let the marine atmosphere freshen the sheets.
As she walked down the stairs, she caught a sweet and tasty whiff wafting from the kitchen. He was making pancakes again. She stopped as she reached the threshold, to take in the scene. He hadn’t noticed her come down, focused as he was on the pan. Somehow he had gotten flour on his cheek. From the hi-fi came Ferrat’s deep and mellow voice, and he was whistling along what was his favourite song these days.
Tout ce que j'ai failli perdre, tout ce qui m'est redonné
Aujourd'hui me monte aux lèvres en cette fin de journée
Pouvoir encore partager ma jeunesse, mes idées
Avec l'amour retrouvé, que c'est beau, c'est beau la vie.
Pouvoir encore te parler, pouvoir encore t'embrasser
Te le dire et le chanter, oui c'est beau, c'est beau la vie !
He looked happy.
Rough translation:
All I nearly lost, all that is given back to me
is coming to my lips tonight
Still being able to share my youth, my ideas
With the newfound love*
How beautiful, how beautiful life is
Still being able to talk to you, to kiss you,
To tell you so and sing it,
How beautiful, how beautiful life is!
*technically, the original text says "a love that has been found again"
Here is an explanation of the lyrics in English! And the other song he was listening to just before, do yourself a favour i beg you (it’s about young lovers on a sunny beach, bathing in the warm sea with thyme and pine and pebbles and birds and waves and-)
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