#Confused sports elf

[darantha]

How to Spot AI images (Hopefully)

So, I did see GailyNovelry's excellent post on this (Link here), but saw that there also were some confusion and they were using a environment image as their example, so I thought I'd do a breakdown that was more character centric.

The key thing with AI images is that the program does not know what it is making. And, arguably, they thrive on that we are currently conditioned to not really look at things for too long before we hit that engagement button and/or just scroll onwards to whatever next the algorithm feeds us.

It's hard to fight that urge, I know, but if you just pause and look, you'll soon start spotting things that just do not make sense, and I don't just mean that the pretty booby elven fighter is sporting seven fingers on one hand. Those are the obvious things. I'll try to cover the general sort of artefacts that tend to tip me off to the fact that a image is generated rather than actually hand-made by someone making informed design decisions as opposed to trust what amounts to RNG. I think this is important as there's those who do not tag their images as AI generated, and try to scam people with commissions.

And, as the saying goes... The devil is in the details.

To start with I picked this image from deviantuser CeiEllem. At first glance, it looks... very impressive. Sharp looking elf lady with killer hair. 10/10 wish I could rock that haircolour.

But, it is AI generated. Aside from the general tell that is this hyper rendered, near photorealistic style that AI images often have, there's a lot of details that tips it off to just not having been made by a human who actually made the decisions.

Since AI is just working off patterns and not actual decisions, things like hair is a immediate giveaway that you're looking at a AI image.

(Deviantart users: daralyth, DavidZarn and lunayokai)

In all these three images you can see just how hair whisps off into weird nonsense shapes or even meld into the background or clothing. Because, again, the AI doesn't know what its doing, just working with shapes. Similarly, background elements that just stop and start randomly is a dead giveaway, like the tail in the first image.

As I've said, details is the key to spotting these images, and another giveaway is the sheer density of details that is just noise.

This is from users Rigtorok7, and the details are so noisy, absolutely miniscule in scale, and hypersharp, yet have no actual design to them. Artists imply details all the time. We don't render out every single nook and crevice, and since we actually know what we want the viewer to look at, we'll pull back and simplify things so you don't want to look at the big chunk of very noisy hair ornament or necklace instead of the face of the character.

For comparison, this is how it looks when I, personally, indulge in doing 'overdetailing' of something (because I am forever weak for painting jewelry).

BUT I want to stress that the key here isn't that detailing equals AI generated. The key is the lack of design choices IN the details. There's a lot of artists out there, and someone painting out all those nooks and crannies in something doesn't mean they are a AI user. This painting by Leighton is super detailed but you see the intent with all the details. You have a focus with the people in the boat and secondary read of the figure in the door, where the details are a lot more implied and less sharp.

AI can't do that, because AI isn't making any decisions.

I couldn't find any good example once I went looking, but if you're into fantasy art: look for people just holding weird 'swords'.

AI is rapidly evolving, so who knows how much this'll help in 3 months, but for now, this is how I spot things.

But, in the end, the biggest giveaway that someone is using an AI generator is that they've filled up page after page on deviantart/artstation/wherever in the past like... six to nine months, and often swing between wildly different styles. If you're unsure, look up the source of a image. Another clue can be generic 'untitled' or just 'elf lady' sort of titles, since someone uploading 30 images a week isn't going to make unique titles for each image.

Also, commissioners. ... you should ALWAYS get a sketch and progress image from a artist that you hire. My art directors would have my head on a plate if I didn't send them a rough sketch and progress shot before finalising the image.

[justcallmefox89]

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Five - Push and Pull

Love is like lanceboard; Gale makes his first move.

“I had no idea you were such a voyeur, Gale,” X’aa’nath murmurs, silver eyes fixed on the wizard.  “Do it again and I slit your throat.”

Gale shudders as he remembers the flinty tone of the sorcerer’s voice, the threat dripping with menace.  He hadn’t meant to peek into X’aa’nath’s memories like that, of course he hadn’t!  Well… maybe just a tad but –

Astarion thumps down next to him, interrupting his train of thought.  “You’re brooding, darling.”

“I am not brooding.  I am pondering.”

“Don’t quibble.  It’s the same thing.”

Gale sighs and his gaze slides over to where X’aa’nath sits next to the campfire, rummaging through his pack.  “He hates me.”

“Of course he does, my dear.  You peeked up his mind’s metaphorical skirts.  Consider yourself lucky; if it would have been Lae’zel she’d have killed you where you stood.  The real question is: why do you care?”

“Why do you care that I care?”

“I abhor a mystery.”  Ruby eyes fix Gale with a hard stare.  “Enlighten me.”

Gale shifts away from Astarion, hoping to hide the rapid reddening of his cheeks.  “He’s talented, powerful… I’ve always had an interest in githyanki culture.  Why would I not be interested in learning all I can from one of their warrior mages?”

Astarion rolls his eyes.  “You’re an abysmal liar, darling.”

The wizard crosses his arms and huffs.  “And if I just simply admire him as a person?”

“He’s threatened to kill you no less than five times.”

“Still…” Gale falls silent.  “There have been moments where I’m sure I’ve seen him, truly seen him, and he is so much more than he’s presented himself to be so far.  I know he is.”

Astarion stays quiet for a long while, his gaze occasionally flickering between Gale and X’aa’nath.  Eventually he releases a heavy sigh.  “He is young, the youngest of us all, and a gith at that.  He’s lived through and done things some of us could never imagine.  He grew up alone in the wilderness with his guardian as his only companion.  His interactions with other people consisted solely of other gith trying to kill him for sport.  There’s so much blood on his hands he’s fairly drowning in it, Gale.”

The wizard turns to the elf, warm, brown eyes gazing at him kindly.  “I would not hold the things others forced him to do against him, Astarion," he says softly.  "Nor would I hold it against you."

“Hm.”  The elf smiles briefly, then stands, dusting off his trousers.  “Maybe there’s hope for you two yet then, my dear.”

Gale waves in farewell as Astarion saunters off, taking a few moments to gather his courage before standing himself and walking over to where X’aa’nath still sits by the campfire.

****************************************************

I lay out my supplies on a clean blankets before me, softly touching each one in turn to reassure myself that everything I need is present.

Thread.  Bowl.  Hot water.  Clean cloths.  Needle.  Bandages.  Healing salve.

“X’aa’nath, may I - ”

“Tsk’va!”  The wizard’s voice startles me, and I flail momentarily, nearly upsetting my neatly laid out supplies.

“I’m sorry!  So sorry!”  Gale reaches out to steady me but quickly yanks his hands back, instead they flutter uselessly in the air about me as I attempt to regain my composure.

Scowling, I bat his hands away, refusing to acknowledge the swooping feeling that occurs in my stomach when my skin touches his. 

Soft.  Warm. 

So different from my own rough, leather-like skin that I’m nearly overtaken with the urge to keep touching him, to explore that pale skin hidden by his wizard’s robes.  I cross my arms tightly over my chest, praying to Vlaakith that Gale’s weak human eyes cannot see the flush that is surely blooming over my face.

“What do you want?” I snap, using anger to mask the confusing swirl of emotions I always feel whenever the wizard is nearby.

“Oh. Yes.  I, well, I wished to apologize once again for what happened.  I assure you that I did not purposely invade your thou-  What on earth are you doing?!”

I toss my ruined tunic aside and glance over at the shocked human.  “I am injured.  It requires stitches.”

I wet a cloth and dab it against the gash in my side, cleaning away dirt and dried blood.  Gale watches in silence, looking slightly queasy.

“I know you did not mean to enter my thoughts on purpose,” I say quietly.  “All the same, do not let it happen again.  And do not speak of anything you saw in my memories.”

“Of course,” he hurriedly assures me, nodding his head.  “I would never.  Are you sure you don’t want some assistance with that?”

Gale watches with wide eyes as hold a large, wickedly curved needle over the campfire, waiting for it to glow red before removing it from the flame and splashing it with a generous pour of mermaid whiskey.  I wipe it dry with a clean cloth then deftly thread the needle with my specialized thread, my hands shaking slightly under Gale’s close observation.

“No.”  I shake my head, hissing as I splash my wound with another pour of whiskey.  “Neat stitches are required for minimal scarring and quick healing.  No one else will do as good a job as I will.”

Gale says nothing, but I can feel his eyes roaming over my torso, taking in the myriad of other scars that I’ve stitched myself.  I adjust myself slightly, ensuring that my back is towards the shoreline, guaranteeing that none of my traveling companions can see my back.  Especially my kin.

Deep breath in, slow exhale.  Calm.  Open your eyes.  First stitch…

I wince when the needle pierces my skin for the first time, but I keep my breathing calm and even, and eventually settle into the familiar rhythm of stitching my own skin.  Gale watches, silently, transfixed.

“You have done this often,” he finally says.  A statement, not a question.

“As often as required.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale murmurs, soulful brown eyes meeting mine.

I raise one eyebrow in question.

“That it was required so often.”

“Hmm.”  A slight smile lifts my lips, an unfamiliar warm sensation buzzing in my chest at his concern.  I finish the rest of my stitches in silence, it is only when I am tying off the final knots that Gale speaks again.

“What on earth is that thread made of?  I never seen anything quite like it.”

I hand him the remaining thread, waiting until his running it through his hands before replying.  “It’s unique.  Cured and made from the intestines of enemies that I cut down in battle.”

Gale freezes, the thread dangling limply between his fingers.  He blinks once, then twice, his eyes fastened on his hands before lifting to stare at me.  “Remarkable.  How… um… how on earth did you manage such a thing?”

I duck my head, flush with pleasure at the wizard’s interest.  “Well I…”

[firstknightvulion]

Now, there is some discourse regarding Minthara and her romance. Specifically, that it feels out of character for her to romance a Masculine presenting Tav. I respectfully disagree.

Minthara is all about power. Ya gotta prove yourself to her. Be vicious and direct. She don’t give a hoot about your gender identity, she’s looking at your kill streak.

But it did give me an idea. Minthara has spoken about going back to Menzoberranzan and burning that fucker to the ground to spite Lolth (paraphrasing). My Seladrine Drow Tav (half Drow/half moon elf) would join her because he’s got a hate boner for the religion of Lolth that’s been turgent since his family and friends were killed by a Lolth Warband’s attack on his Eilistraeen compound.

Now, I imagine her first target would be her house. Minthara would want to twist the knife. Make them suffer.

Minthara’s Mother stands in the great hall of her house. Two of her daughters stand by her side. They are the last of their house. Hours before a shadow descended into their home and started systematically killing every living thing inside.

The great doors to the hall fly open with an explosion. Shrapnel and smoke fill the space. A heart beat later, two arrows fly through the air with deadly intent. They find their marks in the two daughters. One is hit through the eye, she drops instantly. The other is struck in the throat. She does not die quickly. She gurgles and grasps at her throat, feebly trying to stop the escaping blood. Her hands fall limp as the sound of deliberate footsteps fill the hall.

Minthara’s Mother looks away from her daughters’ corpses and up at the dark figure walking towards her. It is dressed in Drow leathers, a hood and mask covering the face. Two green eyes stare at her from shadow of the hood.

Minthara’s Mother: What pit spawned you!?

A chuckle is heard from behind the figure, a deep and dangerous sound. Minthara walks in, blood and a wicked smile painting her face.

Minthara: Hello, mother.

MM: Minthara?! You heretical traitor! Why haven’t you had the decency to die?!

Minthara: The Spider Bitch’s webs will burn, mother. The house Baenre will be the first of the kindling.

MM: You would have us become ash for the sake of such blasphemy?! Deeper and deeper you fall into a pit of shame!

Minthara: To feel shame, I would need to feel remorse. I assure you, mother, I feel only joy. The fact that you were cast down by one so low shall keep warm and smiling for many decades to come.

Minthara pulls back the figures hood. The scared face of Drow male greets her. His eyes a green and while sporting the dark skin of a Drow, it is very pale, almost ashen.

Minthara: This male is of the traitors that stole away to the surface to follow Eilistraee!

MM: How?! How were we defeated by such an inferior being?!

Minthara: Stealth is very broken in this game, mother.

Tav: Minthara! The fourth wall!

Minthara: He was conceived by a loving union that bridged the gap between Drow and our surface kin! In the missionary position!

MM: *gasps*

Tav: *giving Minthara a very confused look*

Minthara: He is not only a third son, he is a sixth son! You were beaten by a third son times two!

MM: *clutches her metaphorically pearls*

Tav: *is an only child but knows enough of Menzoberranzan culture to be slightly offended*

Minthara: He is my romantic partner! I treat him as an equal!

Tav, somehow, feels the sensation of someone vomiting in his thoughts.

MM: You disgust the Spider Queen! Next you’ll tell me you don’t even peg him!

Tav: No, she does.

Minthara: Mother, please. I’m a genocidal conqueror, I’m not debased.

Suddenly, Minthara pulls the sword out of the scabbard hanging from Tav’s back. Within a blink of an eye, it is driven through her mother’s chest. Minthara leaves it embedded in her mother’s body half the blade sticking out of her back. With a gasp, she falls over.

Minthara: *kneeling down to whisper in her mother’s ear* The blade is of Eilistraee. Fitting, don’t you think, mother?

Minthara stands, throwing her head back and raising her arms, as if soaking up sunlight. She begins to laugh.

Minthara: The first conquest is done.

She walks over to the Matriarch’s throne and sits down.

Minthara: Come, fuck me.

Tav: Now?

Minthara: What better time and place than this? My former house is ended, my mother dead-

Tav: She’s not dead.

Minthara: What?

Tav: Still gurgling.

Minthara: Oh, for the love of-she can’t be long for this world.

Tav: Do you want to wait? I don’t want to pull out the blade in case that kills her. I’ll be hearing about taking the honor of killing the mother for years after.

Minthara: No, I don’t want to wait!

Minthara quickly jogs over and pulls the sword out of her mother’s chest. She plunges it in again, hitting the ground underneath. With pure malice in her eyes, her mother reaches up to clutch Minthara’s leg.

Tav: Wow, she is resilient.

Minthara: Enough of this!

Ripping the sword out of her mother’s chest, Minthara makes a wild swing and cut the Drow’s head clean off. The pair watch it roll down the length of the hall. Before another snarky comment can leave his lips, Minthara’s mouth collides with his. They stand, kissing, amongst the skeleton of Minthara’s old home for several moments.

Minthara: Come, there is a duty to which you must attend.

Tav: You have a thing for thrones, don’t you?

Honestly, I should get an Ao3 account cause my posts are looking like fanfiction chapters.

This post was all to get to that line Minthara says about the sixth son. That and the 4th wall break.

[redandbrown]

The Day After

Hermione was sitting on a bench in the corner of the great hall, her back resting against the cold stone wall hugging her knees to her chest. Harry had mumbled something about sleeping before he headed towards Gryffindor tower.

Hermione felt her eyes prickle with tears from the overwhelming memories of the last 24 hours, but kept them trained on Ron. He was still huddled around Fred’s body with his family. She noticed out of all his brothers, only Bill was taller than him now, and just barely so. He was hugging his mum while she cried into his chest. Hermione felt a pang of envy at this scene, wishing she could hug her own mum right now. Immediately she felt guilty, remembering that her family was still thankfully intact.

None of the Weasley brood seemed inclined to leave Fred’s side despite having been there for hours. Hermione didn’t care how long it took. She would wait there all night for Ron if she had to, lending her silent support while he grieved with his family.

At that moment a tiny elf appeared wearing a very old dress and brandishing a tray of sandwiches at her.

“Sandwich, miss?” She asked in her squeaky high-pitched voice.

Hermione felt the unshed tears she had been holding back fall down her face.

She knelt down in front of the small creature and enveloped her in a hug. The startled elf let out a squeak that seemed to make her whole body jump.

Hermione pulled back and looked into her enormous orb-like eyes.

“I would love one. What is your name?”

“Figgy, miss!” She said trembling all over, looking thoroughly confused.

“Thank you, Figgy. This is very kind of you,” Hermione said smiling at the elf and taking a couple sandwiches off the tray.

Figgy burst into tears sobbing loudly.

“Figgy lives to serve, miss!” She squeaked, giving Hermione a watery smile.

Hermione stood up and searched for Ron again and caught him watching her. He smiled at her warmly, but his eyes told of sadness and exhaustion. She gave him a half smile back and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, “you know how I feel about elves.”

Ron turned back to his dad and seemed to be having a serious discussion with him. At one point they both stopped talking to look at her. Mr. Weasley was nodding his head at something Ron had said, and Ron started to hug each of his family members.

“Hermione?”

Hermione turned to see a familiar boy approaching her. She recognized him from classes and knew him to be a Ravenclaw in her year. She had never talked to him, though, and didn’t know his name.

He had thick, dark brown curly hair and was currently sporting a black eye and his best winning smile.

“I’m Arty. Arty VanDevender. I know we never talked to each other, but I remember seeing you in class last year, and I was always impressed with how bright you were-

“Bugger off knobhead! She’s with me!” Ron growled behind him.

Arty spun around to find Ron glaring at him only a few feet away.

“Roon!” Hermione admonished.

Ron looked at her confused “What?” A thought seemed to occur him, and his whole face fell. “You are, aren’t you?”

Hermione beamed at him. “Of course I am. But he doesn’t know that,” she added nodding towards Arty.

Ron scowled at him again. “Well now he does,” he said with finality, staring Arty down.

“Er right. I’ll just be… going, then,” Arty said rubbing the back of his neck as he walked away looking defeated.

Hermione knew she should probably be more irritated than she was, but she could find no anger towards Ron at the moment. She was still just grateful and relieved that they had both made it out of this war alive. And now they were together.

He seemed to share her feelings because he looked immensely relieved right now.

“Hi,” he said wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her head towards him so he could kiss her hair. He took advantage of their close proximity to steal a bite of her sandwich.

“I grabbed you one too,” she said handing him his own.

“Cheers,” Ron mumbled grabbing the proffered food and taking a big bite.

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed. I’m knackered,” he said around a mouthful of sandwich.

He used his arm around her to steer Hermione towards the doors leading to the stairs.

“But, Ron, what about your family? Aren’t you going home with them?”

“Hermione, I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” he said finishing his sandwich.

“But, Ron-

“No, Hermione. You’re barking if you think I’m leaving you after tonight,” that note of finality back in his voice.

Hermione didn’t know why, but she blushed slightly at his tone. At some point in their journey up to Gryffindor tower, Ron’s arm moved off of her neck and grabbed her hand to help steer her around all of the debris in the corridors.

It was eerily quiet without all the students in the hallways, and the sun was shining brightly through the large arched windows now. They walked in silence taking it all in, absorbing the destruction of their beloved school. She knew it could be fixed, but it hurt to see it like this all the same.

Reaching Gryffindor tower and entering the common room (the fat lady hadn’t even bothered with a password, just a silent bow before admitting them) had felt like stepping back in time. It was completely untouched and memories of her years spent here flooded her brain.

They both stood there, deep in their own thoughts before Ron tugged on her hand.

“C’mon,” he said quietly leading her up to the boy’s dormitory.

There was Harry, passed out on his four poster still wearing his shoes and glasses and snoring loudly.

Hermione wordlessly removed his glasses while Ron started pulling off his shoes. She pulled the covers over him and Ron used his wand to close his curtains.

“Reckon he’ll wake up anytime soon?”

“Doubtful. This is the first time in 16 years he’s slept without an evil soul inside him.”

Ron gave a humorless laugh. “Never thought of that.”

He turned to face her and started rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They stared at each other for a moment both trying to figure out their next move. There was so much that needed to be said, but right now, none of it seemed to matter.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Fuck, Hermione!” He said as he closed the gap between them and pulled her body flush against his. He bent his head to kiss her soundly, and Hermione responded immediately.

He started walking her backwards, never taking his lips off hers until her knees bumped into a bed. This seemed to jar his attention, and he broke the kiss, panting heavily.

Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat and she waited for him to say something.

He was grinning and studying her face.

“I uh- fuck, you make me nervous,” he laughed.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You know we just fought a war, right?” She grinned back.

“Yeah, I guess we did,” he laughed.

His nervous laughter was infectious and she found herself laughing too.

“Why is this always so hard for us?” She wanted to know, feeling his thumb rubbing her hand.

“I don’t know: because we’re both pigheaded? Because Harry and the war? Because I’m an idiot?”

“You’re not an idiot, Ron. You’ve never been an idiot. Don’t say such nonsense,” she chided him, pulling a piece of rubble out of his hair.

He brought his hand up to rub her cheek.

“Reckon I couldn’t mistake that kiss you gave me,” he said quietly, watching her face.

She felt a deep blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. She looked down at the floor, biting back a grin.

“I um… yes, I sort of attacked you, didn’t I?” She said refusing to make eye contact.

He gently lifted her chin up to look at him. “Best moment of my life.”

“O-of your life?” She asked him, unsure if she heard him correctly.

He pulled her closer to him. “You heard me,” he said staring her in the eyes, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

“But you messed up,” he told her gravely.

“H-how?” She asked him nervously.

“Because I’m not going anywhere, now. I’m yours, Hermione Granger, so you’re just gonna have to learn to put up with me,” he told her.

Hermione’s smile returned. “I already know how to put up with you, Ronald Weasley. I’ve got seven years of practice.”

He smirked at her, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Too bad you haven’t figured out how to handle me yet. Looks like I have the advantage,” she teased him, running her fingers through his fire red hair.

Ron bit back a grin and without warning he bent down and scooped her legs out from under her. Hermione had just a moment to let out a gasp before he dropped her on his bed and jumped in next to her.

Before her brain could catch up to what had just happened, he was already hovering over her, an elbow on either side of her head, one hand playing with her hair, the other back on her cheek.

Ron let out a laugh at her bewilderment. “Reckon I got all the time I want to figure it out now,” he told her leaning in slowly and kissing her softly.

He pulled back to look at her again, wearing a completely different expression now. His face was serious; his eyes were searching. Hermione could only describe it as want. He wanted her, and he was no longer trying to hide it.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he almost whispered to her.

“So do it again,” she told him, thoroughly hoping he would.

Ron didn’t have to be told twice. He brought his lips down on hers and kissed her soundly.

Hermione was in heaven. She had waited so long for this moment, it seemed like it would never come. She had felt on more than one occasion during the past year that winding up with Ron was a long shot and winning the war a complete fantasy.

But here she was, in his bed with him on top of her kissing his way down to her neck and holding her thigh on his waist.

“Fuck you are so beautiful,” he whispered between nibbling her ear.

Hermione let out an involuntary shutter.

“Y-you think I’m beautiful?” She asked in disbelief.

Ron froze mid kiss and pulled back to look at her, searching her face before asking, “You’re joking, right?”

He looked stunned and Hermione couldn’t take the scrutinizing look he was giving her. She moved her gaze to his shirt collar, and tried to think of something to say because he seemed to be waiting for a response.

“I-I mean I thought- I hoped you had feelings for me too. But I’m not blonde and I’m, um, well shorter than…some girls…” she finished lamely.

Well damn. She had finally made the ultimate move on Ron, kissing the living daylights out of him in the middle of the battle, like the strong, fearless woman she wanted him to see in her. And now, here she was, babbling like an idiot.

“I prefer brunettes,” he finally said, ending the awkward silence that had followed her words.

She looked him in the eyes again. “You do?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah. Bushy haired brunettes. With lots of attitude and big brains.”

“That sounds oddly specific,” she grinned back.

“What can I say? I know what I like,” he shrugged sliding down her body and lifting the hem of her shirt to expose her belly to him. He let out a groan and goosebumps broke out all over her body. He started half licking, half kissing her stomach and Hermione started hyperventilating.

Across the room, Harry snorted loudly behind his curtains. They both froze and looked in his direction. When he didn’t make anymore noise, Ron slid up Hermione’s body and reached over her to grab his wand. He pointed it at his own bed, closing and silencing the curtains and muttering something that sounded a lot like “cockblocking git” under his breath.

Tossing it back on his bedside table, he looked down at her again. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and saw him hesitate. “Hermione, I- shit I should slow down. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know. I’m sure you’re knackered. We can just get some sleep for now, yeah?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed on his chest hard until he fell backwards. She swung her leg over his waist to straddle him.

Ron looked stunned, holding his hands halfway in the air, unsure of what to do with them,

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go to sleep, Ronald Weasley,” she told him bossily. Ron watched her as she quickly unhooked her bra behind her back and pulled both shirt and undergarment over her head.

He groaned loudly at the sight of her. “Yes, ma’am,” he said huskily and Hermione felt a wave of pleasure course through her body at his choice of words. His hands came up to knead her breasts and her eyes closed at the sensation.

She felt disoriented as he flipped them while she still had her eyes shut. He bent down and slowly licked her nipple. Hermione cried out in surprise.

Ron looked up at her. “Is that okay?” He almost whispered.

Hermione could only nod her head. Something snapped inside her, and suddenly everything was moving too slow. She reached down and grabbed his shirt, trying desperately to pull it over his head. Ron took the hint and sat back to finish what she had started.

She took in his pale skin, his shoulders dusted with freckles. She studied the brain scars that curved around his muscular arms. Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach. She always knew Ron was strong, but seeing him like this made her heart skip a beat. A pang of possessiveness came over her. This man was hers, all hers. And she would make sure of that.

“Hermione?” Ron asked unsure. Her eyes snapped up to his brilliant blue ones. He was smiling at her uncertainly.

She must have been staring. “Ron I- she couldn’t get the words out, but she had to, she thought as she reached out to touch his chest tentatively. He had to know how beautiful he was.

“I-I always knew you were handsome, I just um…” she didn’t know how to do this.

Ron’s ears turned bright red, and he crawled back over to her to kiss her, pushing her back down with his body. Hermione felt drunk as she surrendered to the sensation of pure bliss.

She broke the kiss. “Ron,” she said simply grabbing his hand and directing it to the button of her jeans. He froze again, studying her face.

“I want you,” she told him, holding his gaze, willing him to understand.

His hand curled around the band of her jeans, as if trying to gain some control.

“Are- are you sure?” He asked softly.

“More than anything,” Hermione told him, grabbing his face and bringing it down to her level, kissing him hard.

Ron worked diligently to rid them of their clothes, stopping to check again if this was what she wanted.

“Yes!” Hermione told him enthusiastically, pulling his shoulders toward herself, urging him on.

And Ron took her for his own, making sure she knew exactly what he felt for her. And Hermione accepted all he had to offer, matching his love and meeting it with her own. They fought, like they always did, to prove themselves worthy to the other, to make a point. But this time, their point was the same. This time their fight had turned into a dance. They held on tight as they pushed each other to the brink and then fell over the edge together.

That was it. From now on, they would fight all their battles together, side by side because that’s what you did with your person.

“Err um, Ron? Mate? You awake?” They froze, having been drifting off in sated contentment, lying in each others arms.

Ron reached for his wand on the dresser and irritably broke the silencing charm.

“Bugger off, Harry!” Hermione and Ron called in unison from behind Ron’s curtains.

“Err yep. Right then. I’ll just…” Harry’s voice trailed off sounding more distant with each word, probably fleeing the room as quickly as he could, thought Hermione.

“Come here,” Ron said to Hermione, pulling her close.

“You know, we should have just been Neville’s best mates growing up. Much less drama,” Hermione cheeked.

Ron grinned at her. “Much less,” he agreed drifting off to sleep.

[kintatsujo]

When I say I didn't perform gender correctly as a kid I don't mean that I came across as a tomboy or anything like that

I mean that I was confusing, which is arguably worse to the people who will hurt you for that kind of shit

Like... the things that were feminine about me were TOO feminine and the things that were masculine wasn't the barely acceptable shit like liking sports.

It's hard to explain what the effect was except to say that my queer models for masculinity tended to be glam rock gay queens even though I was a tiny little elf girl who liked pink (and my model for femininity was 80s She-Ra).

I read as either not enough girl or as too much girl, in the wrong way of being a girl no less, because somehow it was coming from the wrong direction even though, logically, it couldn't be.

Basically I was either seen as genderless or as too gender no matter what I did, or else people would catch me wearing makeup and act as if I'd been cured (I had acne and we were being filmed for a concert, I'd point out, don't get used to this)

I self describe as genderfluid but the fact is there was a point in my life I wasn't "allowed" to be a girl despite that being my assigned gender.

So why would I have any particular attachment to it?

[thefanboyhub]

My laundry is on the floor right now and I decided right now was a good time to do some digging into one of the most interesting characters in KOTLC.

It's time to dissect Fitzroy Avery Vacker!

So we all know Mr. Ritz Cracker,

Mr. "We're Cognate's!"

Mr. Golden boy

Mr. You-get-the-damn-point!

Fitz was the Elf who found Sophie in the Forbidden Cities. He was the one who introduced her to his— their— world. He was the first person to see Sophie cry, first person in the Lost Cities to support her.

From reading the books we learn a lot about how Fitz grew up, and you might be saying "uh... no?" BUT HA! YOU FOOL! You cannot just simply read the words, you must read behind the meaning and watch a characters behavior to learn how they grew to be who they are! (It's why I love characters so much, there's so many ways to learn about them)

From context clues and how he behaved in the books we know he was the golden child. First kid to manifest at the tender age of 13, and lose his leaping bracelet early too, not to mention he was a telepath and was basically flawless in school. He took pride in it, like most kids do. But you see here, that's the problem. He never had someone to take him down his pedestal that his parents practically built for him (fucking Alden). He grew up being told he'd do great things, that he was a strong Elf, that he was better then anyone else. So naturally he started to believe it and act like it. He wasn't necessarily vicious either, but he didn't need to be; he always got what he wanted anyways.

I think he felt alone. I mean he reacted so viciously towards his brother Alvar after finding out he was a traitor— UNDERSTANDABLY SO BY THE WAY! But my confusion with this was how angry he was. But I thought about it a lot through my rereading of the series and I realized that he was so angry because he had loved, trusted, looked up to, and felt inferior to his older brother. Despite— No— Because he was treated so much better by Alden(bitch) and Della(ILoveYouWifey) Alvar gained resentment for his siblings, mostly Fitz.

There was a part of Fitz sports thing in book 8.5 KOTLC Unlocked where he talked about playing with Alvar. He said it's no fun playing base quest (I think) with him because he'd stay invisible the entire time. What this tells me is Alvar agreed to play the game but would dip out of his own jealousy and pettiness. Which takes me to my previous statement—

Fitz felt alone. The one thing he never got was a brother who actually liked and loved him. The one thing he had been patiently waiting for and hoping for since he was younger and treated like the golden boy was his older brother. But he never got it, instead he got a traitorous older brother who hated him so deeply he'd hurt his friends without a second thought.

In my opinion, Fitz's rage over his brother is reasonable. It's honestly so real and raw that I can't even say he's being idiotic. Especially considering what I just said.

BUT

His fatal flaw his his anger— or more technical — His tantrums.

Like I said before, he always got what he wanted, he was spoiled and treated like a little prince. So every single time he didn't get what he wanted, his anger would rise. His emotional intelligence has been stumped because he never had someone say no to him or been rejected for something. So he's confused and angry; "Why not!? This never happens to ME!" Type of mentality.

This also comes along with jealousy and the need to compete with others. So when Keefe started to show his affections for Sophie a lot more openly back in book 4 KOTLC Neverseen, specifically when they ended up in Alluveterre for protection that was provided by the black swan, he started to act jealous. He realized how Keefe felt and noticed something about how Sophie acted and he automatically felt the need to compete which is why in book 9 KOTLC Stellerluna he has Sophie on a pedestal like a prise in his subconscious. He doesn't see her like a lover or a crush, he sees her as a prise to win over, subconsciously though. Consciously he thinks it's a crush. He went from thinking of her as a sister to someone he wanted to date; that doesn't happen for no reason.

Moving on from the relationship drama aspect of this, we can talk about his outbursts when something goes wrong. He needs someone to blame. Always. And it's never himself. He needs someone to push all this fear and anger out on because he's not emotionally or mentally equipped to deal with it. It's a self-destructive flaw he posseses. Same with his jealousy.

Which is why I love his character! He actually has some pretty bad flaws! But he also recognized it and is attempting to fix it; what he doesn't realize is that it will take time and whatever he broke will most likely never be fixed again. Simple as that. It's sad and will probably hurt him a lot but I will help him grow.

In conclusion: Kill Alden and get Fitz into therapy :D

[cassieuncaged]

WIP Wednesday on a Monday

Hey everyone! So I’m officially back from my hiatus and decided to start a WIP tag chain early since I’ve got some new/different things I’m working on (including old stories I’ve neglected for more than year). Anyways, my current focus is on Baldur’s Gate, Fallout 4, Far Cry 4, and Mortal Kombat.

Also, thanks for the tag, @bardic-inspo , to share some of my writing 🤗

No pressure tags: @emotionalcadaver, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @captastra, @firstaidspray, @snowyarts, @reriart, @elfinbloodbag, @euryalex @adelaidedrubman, @chadillacboseman, @inafieldofdaisies, @carlosoliveiraa, @spacestephh, @galaxycunt, @unholymilf, @quantum-lover, @voidika, @illiana-mystery, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky and anyone else who wants to share writing, drawing etc. If it’s not your thing please ignore, but I wanted to go on a tagging spree since I’ve finally returned to this hellsite! Honestly really excited to see what everyone is working on :)

King of War - Chapter 2 (Pagan Min x OC)

TW: dictators, mentions of war, non-explicit injuries, language, etc.

Her head throbs as eyes slowly open, the blur of the vibrant world quickly coming into view. A flamboyant man sits across from her, picking at food she doesn’t recognize. Though the stranger in his teal suit isn’t what captivates her. No, it’s the panoramic view of the Himalayas, seemingly stretching to the ends of the planet from wherever they’re nestled.

“Good!” a booming baritone startles her, heavily accented as the man addresses her. Meg knows all too well who he is but hopes that it’s an intricate illusion or this whole ordeal is a dream. “You’re awake.”

“Barely,” she’s groggy, trying to ignore the pain radiating at the back of her skull and reaching for the knife kept holstered in her boots. Instead, he eyes widen to saucers as she realizes that her clothing has been changed as she sports a silk cheongsam dress with matching shoes. She nods bitterly. “You’ve taken my things.”

“Sorry,” he examines his finger nails before meeting her gaze, “I don’t like the idea of my guests being armed.”

“What decent dictator would?” she forces out a dark chuckle, hoping he’ll bury a bullet in her brain and end this nightmare. Instead, a brow arches quizzically.”

“King,” Pagan corrects her tersely, “It’ll do you well to remember that, Meg.”

“How do-”

“Please,” he laughs deeply, genuinely entertained by her confusion, “One of the biggest tech innovators from Silicon Valley disappears and just happens to reappear in my country. You think I wouldn’t know who you were?”

“What do you want?” she spits with all the vitriol she can muster, feeling the tension of sore muscles in her face. Nothing is said as he steeples his hands, mouth splitting into a mischievous grin, but he doesn’t need to say it because she already knows.

Everything.

Exploration - Chapter 1 of 2 (Astarion x OC)

TW: slightly suggestive, allusions to past trauma, dissociation, language, etc.

Memories were complicated, often tainting how one viewed many facets of present life.

At least that was how Astarion regarded his own. Two hundred years had soured his outlook on many things as life was slowly reclaimed. Autonomy, individuality, sex. All were concepts he’d attempted to relearn in the months after the brain fell yet struggled with greatly.

He was grateful to not navigate the unknowns alone, his sorceress lover still firmly planted by his side. Ilwyn was understanding in many ways others wouldn’t be, a flower emerging from the muddiness of her own past trauma. Not to mention how young she was for an elf, still learning many things about herself.

“I’ll be right here, my sweet star.”

She’d cooed into his ear one night after a particularly bad nightmare had destroyed his trance. Her body was warm, the scent of honeysuckle permeating her skin and bed clothes after a soothing bath. No one had ever held him like that, soothing and sweet until his rigid body began to relax against her. To be loved was to be seen, or so he had learned.

Wynnie was endlessly patient and understanding, allowing him to make choices for himself and to allow space when it was needed. Sometimes, the vampire spawn needed to clear his head, to feel the cool kiss of night tickle his cheeks and tousle his curls. If blood still pulsed beneath his skin. He was positive he’d be red as the fruit of a sun melon. How their innocent touches quickly became heated, motions filled with unbridled passion. How he felt himself drift away as Ilwyn lay spread out in nothing but slinky small clothes, her hand drifting to his breeches…

He deigned to be filled thoughts of his lover, to drown in her visage for hours, molding her body against in his own in a passionate exchange, kissing and licking and nipping. Yet, the young elf carefully rolled them over so he lay with his back upon the down feathered mattress. Dismounting herself, Wynnie rubbed firm circles into a broad shoulder as Astarion’s ashen brows knit in confusion.

They were together, melding into one another so naturally and deliciously. Yet allowing ruby eyes to shutter once had transported him into the hallows of the Szarr palace, stretched across crushed satin as sure lips collided with curve of a stranger’s neck. A blonde woman, a man with bronzed skin, it never mattered who was shared that damned bed.

Sex was a means to an end. Always.

Ghoulish Intentions - Chapter 1 (John Hancock x OC)

TW: none! (other than radiation i suppose!)

A gnarled arm stretches across the mattress as the ghoul wakes. Sunlight spills into the room, Daphne’s room. Though Hancock is shocked to find she isn’t plastered to his side, likely having awoken early to tend to mutfruit and tato sapling’s. Sanctuary is teeming with residents now, cul-de-sac walled in like a cookie cutter Goodneighbor. Yet, she enjoys playing her part in all sanctions of the town: agriculture, defense, even entrepreneurship.

But he’s happy that his mayoral duties are paused momentarily, enjoying life after the Institute’s fall. Besides, he rather likes watching his other half scuttle about under the sun that gently freckles soft skin beneath the fumes of radiation that never completely dissipate. Then he hears the rattle of an old storm door, booted feet clomping forward as he begins to dress.

“Hey, handsome.” Blonde hair hidden by the trifold hat that matches his own, Daphne rests her head against the doorjamb. “Nick’s back with a new job. Sounds like we’ve got a job playing detective again.”

“Taking names and kicking some ass involved?” he rasps out a chuckle, enjoying how the loving gaze that falls upon him like a spotlight.

“Likely, at least with Piper and Cait tagging along with us and the gumshoe.” She stifles a yawn, adjusting her general’s garb.

“Well how and the hell could I say no to that?” a grin spreads across his scarred face, inky eyes sparkling beneath dawn’s light. “When do we leave?”

Uneasy Alliance - Chapter 3 (Cassie Cage x OC)

TW: rampant sexual tension, language, etc.

“A truce?” Lavender eyes are unblinking, sharp jaw set hard as steel. “What the hell are talking about?”

Blue eyes rolled dramatically as Commander Cage strode into the meager set up. Her mouth, however, was shut for the longest amount of time since they’d met. Of course, when the turncoat actually wanted to hear the proposition. Instead, the blonde turned gracefully on the toe of her boot, not unlike a ballerina.

Under the right circumstances, Nyx could even imagine herself slipping her a phone number hastily scrawled across a sticky note. Right now, she had to resist the urge to cave Cassie’s skull in.

“Nice place you got here,” a quick nod of her head sent those pink aviators gracefully falling upon that round little nose, “Suppose you’ll be plastering some Echo and the Bunnymen posters up while you watch Eraserhead.”

“What’s your dorm look like, Barbie? Bubblegum pink with a closet full of Betsey Johnson rejects?” Nyx shot back without missing a beat, enjoying how Cage junior was bristling beneath the quick retort. It was clearly a long time since she’d had someone to engage in verbal sparring.

“Point taken,” Cassie grits, arms crossed tightly across her uniform. “You want to hear what I’ve got up my sleeve or not.”

Mirroring her stance, the pallid woman responded with a sharp:

“I’m listening.”

[roohuh]

A Visit from Mrs. Gaunt

Part 14 of the Obliviate Series

Ominis x MC

Summary: Ominis mother comes to collect her son.

Warnings: parental abuse trigger warning

You went to bed early complaining of a headache leaving Ominis by himself in the common room reading. The room is unusually empty for this time since everyone is out watching the Slytherin VS Ravenclaw Quittage match. Sebastian had urged Ominis to join him at the game but Ominis had never cared for sports to him; it was just a lot of shouting. Besides he loved having the common room to himself. He was comfortable in front of a warm fire reading about different healing spells.

“Hello Ominis.” A silky woman’s voice says from behind him. The hair rises on the back of his neck.

“Hello mother.” He remains seated, not bothering to turn to her.

“Did I never teach you to stand and face a lady when you greet her?” She tisks at her son “ That hussy of yours had the same horrible manners.” Ominis tries to remain calm knowing his mother is baiting him.

“If you have come here to fight, do not bother yourself.” He says picking up his book.

“Oh how like your father you are! So dismissive.” She complains, draping herself across a chair beside her son. Ominis continues reading in hopes she will lose interest and leave.

“What is it about that vixen of yours anyways? Your brother has taken quite a shine to her also.” Still no answer from Ominis.

“She does have a lovely scream.” The woman says wistfully. The book drops from Ominis hands as he rises slowly from his seat.

“You are lying.” He growls.

“She came flying into the room with such excitement when her stupid elf said it was a Gaunt. I am sure she was expecting you.” Drawing his wand, Ominis points it at his mother. Stepping forward she holds the wand to her chest.

“Do it.” She whispered. Tears fill his eyes, hand wavering feeling as if he was a frightened child once more.

“You know the spell.” She taunts.

“Do it!” Ominis flinches at the shout expecting the strike that usually comes. This time she merely took his want and tossed it over her shoulder.

“It is a pity you are so weak.” The mother grabs her son by the shoulder and they disappear.

Sending the doors flying on their hinges you explode into the Ancient Runes classroom

“Where is he?” You demand ignoring the class full of confused second years. Wand drawn you fearlessly aim at Professor Gaunt.

“Where is who?” You press your wand into the side of the man’s neck with a hiss

“You want a demonstration of my power?” The man gives a chuckle.

“I would love a demonstration however I have a class to teach. As for Ominis, he is merely paying a visit to our family home.” Sebastian steps in putting a restraining hand on your shoulder. He has been hot on your heels all the way from the Slytherin common room where you had discovered Ominis wand. Seeing Sebastian you asked him where Ominis was in an effort to return the wand. Sebastian had just assumed the two of you snuck off together for the night so when you came down looking for Ominis he was slightly alarmed. You were practically a flash of light in the halls using Ancent Magic to propel you forward as you raced to the Undercroft. Finding it empty you turned towards Professor Gaunt’s classroom feeling a deep pit of dread in your stomach

As Sebastian pulls you out of the classroom the professor calls out:

“You know the very easy fix to all of this.” Outside of the classroom you shake off Sebastian’s hands.

“He is just trying to antagonize you. We do not even know if that is where Ominis actually is.” Sebastian tries to sooth you.

“You know as well as I do that Ominis is not the type to disappear without so much as a note! And he left his wand! We both know where he is.”

“Do we?” Sebastian tries to reason.

“He is at his family’s home!” You snap.

“And where might that be?” The realization dawns on you and you sit on the floor in frustration. Neither you nor Sebastian had ever been to Ominis families house.

“Ominis is a capable wizard, he will be alright.” Sebastian tries to convince himself as much as he is convincing you. Offering you a hand up he adds.

“Come on. Let’s go search the dormitory for clues.”

[retrobr]

Lazytown Shenanigans Pt. 4

This time I've watched "The Blue Knight," and I don't really know why but I didn't find this episode interesting. Maybe that's because I want to sleep, but whatever 🥱

"The Blue Knight"

I want to start with the scene in the very beginning: I'm not completely sure why, but the fact that Sportacus had to play chess all by himself made me feel somewhat... sad? Not completely sad, but I hope you know what I mean. He seemed very happy, but that scene kinda gave me a feeling of loneliness. But enough of the sad things out of nothing..

Thanks to this episode I was convinced that Ziggy is literally the best kid in the gang. He treats everyone very kindly, no matter if someone is bad or good; he even suggested Robbie listen to the story about the Blue Knight together. Isn't that sweet?? 🥺 Also kinda felt bad for Ziggy when kids left him (accidentally, I should point out, but still), and he was sad that he couldn't join them. Why do they keep upsetting my boy :(

Oh and well. Meanswell's Scottish accent killed me; the way he read the story about the Blue Knight made me feel kinda odd. That was something fr 😭

And speaking of the Blue Knight, this is literally the very first episode in which I've seen Sportacus wearing something different from his usual outfit. It was kinda refreshing to see him like that; even though his face was shown only at the end of the episode, I was happy to see him in other clothing even despite the fact that it was only the knight's armor and it was difficult for him to move in it (it was quite a sad sight to me.) My bbg-

And since we're talking about the outfits in this episode, Robbie's disguise as a Purple Knight WAS A FIRE. LIKE OMG HELLO HANDSOME?? His outfit kinda reminded me of Crowley (probably because of the hair and its color, idk). I think from now on it's one of my favorite disguises of his :]

And the fact that he made a GODDAMN DRAGON ALL BY HIMSELF. Guys I mean isn't he a genius?? He makes such wonderful things using only what he has – in other words his knowledge, various pieces of metal and other stuff

Oh and also, a small thing that made me feel somewhat confused: I heard that Robbie called Sportacus a "sports elf" or something like that. So is it a canon fact that Sportacus is an actual elf? I mean I thought that it was just a fanon thing, but now I'm not really sure about it 😭

Some "nice" words about my "beloved" Stingy :]]]. I didn't expect to hear something nice from him, but him calling his friends "peasants" made me choke on the air. And yes, I know that was a part of his role as a king and the game in general, but confidence in his voice made it sound pretty... legit. As if he had a good opportunity to call them that and not get any words of objection in return. Damn I hate this kid indeed-

And finally, a paragraph about some ship stuff (my favorite part 😏). Not that I noticed too many things, but the fact that Stephanie called Pixel a "young and handsome prince" made me smile warmly. Idk they seem pretty cute to me, I think it's a shame that there are no more hints at their relationship. And I quite liked Robbie's and Sportacus' "fighting" scene. They are just goofing around, god bless them 🥺💜

In general, the episode was pretty good, I like the theme of the Middle Ages and the outfits based on this historical era. But still, unfortunately, I can't say that it's my favorite; I felt like there was something missing, u know...

As always, thank you for your guys attention. Please know that it makes me genuinely happy that some of you actually read and even like it, it means a whole lot to me 💜

[angelasscribbles]

Dark Elf Chapter 7: Spirit Bound

Series: Dark Elf

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake (this chapter)

Word Count: 2,424

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this series: Dubcon (but not really because she's a demon)

A/N: Submission for @choicesprompts Smutember prompt event. Prompt: Hard and Fast.

A/N2: I hope no one gets confused between this one and the other dark AU I have going right now, The Dark Kingdom. This one, Dark Elf is the one where Riley is a demon here to sacrifice Hana so Liam can achieve immortality. Liam is half elf, half human. Drake shifts into a tiger. Max is the human sorcerer that summoned her.

Thanks @aussiegurl1234 for prereading and drooling over this chapter. 😆

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley woke and stretched her body as memories of the night before fell through her head. The halfling prince had been even more delicious than she had imagined he would be. She turned her head to his side of the bed. Empty. But it would be, it was well past dawn, and he was expected at a council meeting. There was a note on the nightstand.

Last night was amazing. Looking forward to doing it again. I’ll expect you at dinner again tonight. Look in the closet.

She took her time with the shower; it was much more luxurious than her own. It was a walk-in with enough room for at least eight people to shower at the same time. When she was done, she stepped into the dress and admired herself in the floor-length mirror. It showcased her assets well. But then, all the clothes in her closet did. They all had been provided by Liam and were high quality and high fashion. He had good taste; she’d give him that.

When she was dressed, she picked up the phone and called Hana to reschedule. They could have lunch tomorrow. Today she had slept in thanks to her adventures with Liam. The man was insatiable. Their post-coital cuddling had led to a second round, then a third. And he really did like it rough. She had thoroughly enjoyed their little interlude, but now it was time to turn her attention to phase two of her plan. Time was running out.

She had his blood, now she needed his spell breaker.

She didn’t have to look far to find him either. When she arrived back at her room, Drake was already outside her door. She stopped well away from him. She wanted to talk to him before she got close enough for him to smell her.

Shock flashed across his face when he saw her, “You’re not in your room?”

“Obviously not.”

“Liam told me to resume guard duty this morning, he didn’t say where. I just assumed you were in there. I didn’t realize you’d be up so early.”

“Yes, well….errands…” she drummed her fingers across her lips for a moment then she smiled at him, “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

A guarded expression flitted across his face, “Go ahead….”

“Liam calls you D’hala not Da’sa, why is that?”

Drake bristled as he answered, “Because I am not a servant!”

Awed disbelief mingled with elated surprise, “He hasn’t bound you to him?”

“No. I told you; I serve him by choice!”

“Oh, my dear sweet boy, being bound is a choice.” She marveled at the combination of strength and downright naivete she had found in him. Shifters, especially of the Pantera species, were some of the most powerful beings on earth. Physically he was a force to be reckoned with and magical means of defense or attack could not touch him. Yet he seemed almost innocent when it came to the ways of the world, most likely a result of the sheltered life he’d led at the palace.

She repressed her glee as she realized how incredibly simple Liam had made this. Stealing his spellbreaker would be easy. So easy it almost wasn’t sporting.

The cuff that adorned her right arm might be suppressing her demonic powers, but she had the full arsenal of all her vampiric powers at her fingertips. She supposed Liam wasn’t aware that when a vampire drank from a willing victim, some small part of the victim’s abilities were conveyed upon the blood drinker. In this case, his magic.

She’d never felt so much of someone else’s power coursing through her veins before, but perhaps the magnetic pull of her magic to his had somehow heightened it, strengthened it. Whatever the reason, she now possessed enough magic to help push the already teetering on the edge of giving in to her tiger right over the precipice.

Drake was immune to most magical forms of manipulation, but he wasn’t immune to tiger pheromones. And those she could easily manufacture now that she had access to a modicum of Elven magic. Produced by magical means or not, the pheromones themselves would be real enough. An illusion would never work on him. Fortunately, demons could shapeshift, so it was a simple matter of modifying her own actual pheromones, customizing them so that she became irresistible to him.

“I….what?” He eyed her with a combination of mistrust and curiosity.

“You can’t be bound against your will. It’s a form of…commitment.” One you couldn’t easily take back.

His only response was a grunt.

“There are benefits to being bound you know.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged languidly, “Depends on who’s doing the binding. Being bound to an immortal creature bestows immortality onto you as well.”

“Who wants to be immortal?” Shifters already had very long lifespans.

“You might, if you were truly devoted to someone. Wouldn’t you want to live as long as your lover?” With that, she moved down the hall, passing in front of him to open her door.

His nostrils flared as she walked past him into the room. His sense of smell was far more advanced than humans. Even this many hours later, there was no mistaking it. The scent was there under the soap and shampoo from her shower.

She cast a glance back over her shoulder, “What’s wrong, shifter? You look pissed off.”

Without preamble, he stepped into her room, grabbed her by the arm, and jerked her roughly to him. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled then he shoved her away with an accusing glare, “His smell is all over you!”

Riley stumbled backward but regained her footing, and her wits, quickly. With a mocking smile, she lifted her shoulders, “So? Why does that matter to you?”

“Why does that matter? Yesterday you were ready to….we were ready to….you let me….I….I thought….”

“Listen, tiger, I need a man who can think for himself. A strong one. Does that describe you?”

“Yes!”

She stepped into his personal face and tilted her head up to give him a challenging stare, “Prove it then.”

He visibly started, “Prove…what, exactly?”

“Prove your devotion,” she sank her fingers into his hair, “You want to serve so badly…serve me instead.”

“I…”

“That’s what I thought,” she shoved away from him, and spun to walk away, “pathetic.”

The beast inside him sprang to life as pain, fury, and desire twisted together into a deadly combination.

He reached for her and pulled her back, ripping the clothes from her body in one fluid motion. He pressed himself against her naked backside as a feral growl spilled out of him and his tiger rippled a little too close to the surface. He sank his teeth into the back of her shoulder as he struggled not to shift.

What the hell was happening? He’d had sex before, he’d felt lust and desire before but never had it affected him like this. His body was reacting to her as if she were another tiger. A female tiger in heat. He’d never actually experienced that, but every instinct he possessed was telling him that’s exactly what she was. Every instinct he had was also screaming at him to claim her, to possess her, to wipe Liam’s scent from her body and replace it with his own.  

As he struggled to calm his beast and contain himself, Riley pushed back against him, rubbing her firm, supple ass against his rock-hard cock, “What's wrong, shifter? Even now you can’t step a toe out of line without permission?”

With fury and lust clouding his mind, he forced her to the floor, heedless of the bed mere feet away. He dropped to the ground hovering over her, one hand pushing into her upper back as the other tore at his own clothing. His cock sprang free, and he pushed her legs apart then shoved himself inside her with a primal roar.

He drove himself into her with a ferocity that would have frightened him had his mind been clear enough to register it. His senses drowned in a tidal wave of need overpowering in its intensity, wiping away every vestige of common sense, and self-control he possessed.

Riley writhed underneath him, pinned face down on the floor as he pounded relentlessly into her, deep in the grip of a passion and lust-fueled delirium. Pupils blown, restraint gone, he hurtled toward the edge of the abyss and crashed over it as his teeth tore at her shoulder. Her blood filled his mouth, and her scent filled his nostrils as his seed filled her insides. He pushed one last time, sinking himself as deep as he could go as he finished pulsing inside her.

He collapsed forward and lay on top of her panting as the roaring in his ears receded and some semblance of sanity retook him. He looked down at her ripped-up shoulder in horror, “Riley, shit! I’m sorry!”

“It’ll heal,” she told him. The only thing that healed quicker than a shifter was a demon. Indeed, the skin began knitting itself back together as he watched.

He scrambled off her, sprawling on his ass next to her on the floor, his head swiveling from side to side as if he wasn’t sure where he was or how he had gotten there, “I…I don’t know what happened…”

His pants were still tangled around his legs, he’d never gotten them off, just shoved down. Her dress lay on the other side of the room, ripped completely in half. He jerked his pants up, but the zipper and button had been torn out. “What the fuck?” He whispered to himself then his eyes lifted slowly to take in the woman he’d just ravaged without so much as a by your leave.

Riley had pulled herself into a similar seated position. Her eyes bore into him as she licked blood from her lips.

His eyes widened, “Did I….did I hurt you?”

“Define hurt….”

“I’m sorry…I…I don’t know what just happened to me….”

“Come here,” she motioned for him to move closer.

He scooted forward until he was in front of her. Lowering his head into her lap he fought back tears, “I swear I’ve never…I wouldn’t…I didn’t mean to….”

“It’s okay,” she crooned as her fingers combed through his hair and caressed his scalp, “I pushed you to it.”

“There’s no excuse for losing control like that,” he croaked out, his arms circling her waist as his body began to shake with soft sobs.

“Oh, my sweet tiger, you are such a delightful mix of strength and vulnerability. There’s so much you don’t know about your own kind. Let me help you find your way. Let me help you come into your own.”

“How?” He lifted pleading eyes to her.

“Let me bind you.”

“How will that help?”

“Well for one, no one will ever be able to separate us, you’ll become immortal like me, and I’ll have eternity to teach you everything you need to know.”

“Would I have to go to hell with you when you leave?”

“That’s the beauty of it, tiger. If we do this, if you agree to it, then I don’t have to leave here. Ever. You and I and Liam can all be together, for eternity. You love him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“In two days’ time, he becomes immortal. Bind yourself to me and so do you. You’ll never have to leave him, or me.”

“You can teach me about the other shifters?”

“My dear sweet boy, I can teach you anything you desire to know. We can go into the Black Spire Mountains and meet other shifters if you like,” she continued to stroke his hair as she crooned in a soothing voice, “We can hunt the monster that killed your mother together, and when we find it, we’ll destroy it! Once my full powers are restored, we will be a force to be reckoned with!”

He sat up abruptly, “You would help me avenge my mother?”

Her eyes danced with the anticipation of victory, “Oh yes my darling, we will crush the beast!”

He stared at her for a long moment then nodded, “Okay, I’ll do it!”

“Excellent!” she clapped her hands before conjuring an athame out of the ether, “Give me your hand.”

He eyed the ceremonial dagger as he considered the weight of his decision. The blade did not frighten him. She frightened him. But she also excited and mesmerized him. The thought of being bound to her for eternity galvanized him and he extended his hand to her willingly.

She grasped his hand in hers, “Look at me. I’m going to teach you the spell now. You must remember it and recite it perfectly. Can you do that for me?”

“I think I could do anything if it’s for you.”

“Good boy. Now listen carefully.”

Once she was convinced he had the invocation down, she returned her attention to his hand, still grasped in hers, and carved a symbol into his palm, then carved the same symbol into her own. Lacing their fingers together, she pressed her palm into his, mingling their blood as she intoned the incantation, “Magicam antiquam invoco, obedientiam tuam invoco, adstringo te mihi nunc et in perpetuum!”

Their hands began to glow as heat tingled against both palms. His resolve never wavering, he pressed his palm into hers as he repeated the chant she had taught him, “Tibi me libenter obligo, me tibi totum trado. Voluntatem meam trado tuis nunc et in perpetuum.”

The glow brightened until they couldn’t see their hands and the heat intensified to an almost painful level. There was a loud popping sound and the light, and heat, disappeared.

He felt an invisible force settle around his heart and tighten. Drawing his hand away from her, he turned it palm up to study the design carved into it. The blood was gone, his hand was clean and the design faded as he watched until his palm was just skin again. He flexed his hand open and closed. He couldn’t see the image she had carved there, but he could feel it. There was now an invisible cord connecting them, a thread he could follow, a tangible, undeniable force binding them together.

He opened his mouth to ask her what happened next but before he could get the words out, the door burst open, and Liam stumbled into the room, “Riley! Drake! What have you done?”

[colucana]

NOT A BABYSITTER BUT A GOOD RACER

Adding to the Elysia’s fauna, introducing: A kiwi

Featuring: ten years old Rufel, who may or nor be messing with his sister

@spicy-clover-database

Elysian Kiwi

Dark magic

Non flying birds with long beaks, an adult elf can easily clung to their necks without bending down

Playful creatures whose curiosity landed them in Elysia and forging an amicable relationship with elves where they will allow themselves to be rode and even pull carts from time to time, similar to horses, they even have races

A thin curtain of dark magic permanently dances on their legs and chest, its gives them a bust at their run start, the strongest individuals sport a darker and bigger cloud of mana, even starting manifesting bits of it on their bills

Lira once encountered one with dark magic forming what looked like moustache, made for an incredible picture

Normally nocturnal, the lighter feathers in their chest shine in the moonlight making other animals back off at the sights of a face of what looks like a dangerous creatures, although not afraid to pick a fight if their bluff fails they prefer to run away to keep their energy

They tend to curl themselves into a ball when sleeping during the day, grouping together during the cold months or cuddling with kangaroo squirrels or moss dogs, young elves more than once have confused them for small mounds and climb on them to take a nap

[shaelashaela]

The King's Curse, ch. 1

(Note: This is direct continuation of Before You Were Born. I suggest reading that story first if you haven't. The subject matter of this story is also a bit darker, so out of caution some chapters will be marked mature.)

[cw] physical intimacy, non-consensual touch [reading time] 5½ mins.

“Do you not recognize your King?”

He towered over me, imperious. Never did I expect to meet Oberon in my life, especially not in the human world. But now he stood in the middle of Ravenna’s Books, and he demanded my attention. The world around us stopped at his behest, freezing Rayna mid-stroke of the pen. I was exempt from the effect, so he wanted something from me in particular.

In paintings, the King of the Summer Court wore elaborate gold and purple robes with shining pauldrons and greaves engraved with roses. Now, though, he made a genuine attempt to blend in, and he sported a grey three-piece suit with a white scarf draped over his shoulders. The gold-tipped walking cane in his right hand, however, pushed it back towards the ridiculous. He was still obviously an elf, though—unlike me, he let his pointed ears push through his long, black hair.

His patience seemed infinite as he awaited an answer, and, after a moment, I found my voice. “I—sorry, no. I have never been graced by the honour of your presence, Your Majesty.”

Oberon inclined his head forward, satisfied with that answer. “Good and well. At least you know to speak with respect.”

I wondered if I should curtsey. I read of such customs in books, but I wasn’t certain if elf nobles still considered it in vogue. All the same, I pointed my eyes toward the floor out of respect.

“What may I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Answer Us true, Sylvie Shaestari: was it you who slew your own father?”

I winced. No, I did not kill my father. I killed the man who sired me, but he was nothing more than that. No way would I contradict him, though. “If you refer to Nox Shaestari, Your Majesty, then yes, that was me. I know I should have sought the justice of your court, but I would ask your forgiveness. It was a matter of self-defence.”

My liege brought his hand up to stroke his chin, which looked odd to me since he had no beard. “Were it a matter of Our justice, we would be settled, young alchemist.”

My confusion was plain in my voice. “Then what troubles you, Your Majesty?”

“This man you killed was known as Ixion at my sister’s court. He was favoured by her.”

I swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good.

He pointed the tip of his walking stick at me. “You will answer to her, in order to preserve the peace of Our kingdom. Leave on the morrow for Wintervale and do whatever she shall ask of you in reparation.”

My brain just stopped. What? Make reparations for Ixion of all people? Like hell I would! I tried to think of a retort, but confusion and rage combined inside me, refusing to form into anything coherent.

One word squeaked out: “Why?”

His eyes became slivers of sapphire. “We have spoken.”

The part of me that screamed I was about to commit suicide was overridden by another part of me that was already sick and tired of my kinsmen toying with me. “No! No way in hell I’m going back to Wintervale—”

A bolt of lightning crackled through the tiny shop and pierced me, racking my body with pain. Was that some form of magic? It was so incredibly powerful, and I never saw him lift a finger. I screamed as my flesh melted from the intense heat.

Then all was fine. Bewildered, I looked about, but nothing in the store was amiss. Some sort of glamour, then. That the pain felt very real, though, terrified me.

King Oberon took a step forward, his voice low and threatening. “Perhaps you require an incentive.”

Unsure of what he would do next, I cowered. I screwed up this time for certain and expected more pain, but to my horror, he moved towards Rayna instead. She stood behind the front desk of her shop, utterly unaware of what happened in her stasis.

Oberon shifted his cane to his other hand and placed a single finger on my girlfriend’s forehead. Fear washed over me. A complex arrangement of arcane lines appeared where he touched her, folded nine times upon each other: the mark of a death curse.

He turned to face me, glowering like my father did when I disappointed him. “Seven days you have to appease Queen Morrigan. When she is satisfied, the curse shall be lifted.”

I fell to my knees. “Your Majesty, please! She has nothing to do with this—”

“And she will fare well if you do as We have decreed. Do not cross Us again.”

With this final proclamation, he faded from my sight, and the world around me resumed. The shop regained its colour as Rayna looked up from her paperwork and noticed me kneeling.

“Sylvie! What’re you doing on the floor?”

We laid together in bed, each holding the other’s hands. Over the past few hours, Rayna went from anger to tears to anger again and finally to despair. She agreed with me that it was unfair I should answer for the death of someone who stalked me and made my life a living hell. She was also furious that my King had violated her with a curse. It took great willpower on my part to be strong for her while also fearing for her life, and by bedtime we were both weary for very different reasons.

She looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes. I could still see them by the light of the street lamps outside, and bedtime offered a clear view of her face without glasses. It was a moment of peaceful bliss each night.

“Sylvie, what’re you going to do? Do you think this Queen will kill you out of revenge?”

My fingers fidgeted with hers. “No… that’s what I’m afraid of. Whatever she wants is likely to be far worse than death. I’m more worried that I won’t be able to appease her at all, and then you’ll die if King Oberon doesn’t lift the curse.”

She nodded and brought my fingers up to her lips briefly. “Just when I thought it was all over…”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for you to get dragged into this… uh, again, I guess.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s just… it’s just so unfair.”

Her lip quivered, and I feared she might cry again. I would do anything to avoid that, so I lunged forward and pressed my lips to hers in a bid to stop the tears. Her eyes widened at first, but then she closed them and leaned into me. Winding her fingers through my hair, she pulled me into her embrace and showered my face with hungry kisses. Shock paralyzed me at first, as I’d never triggered such unmasked passion in her before, and I wondered if I could keep pace with her.

After the momentary alarm, I closed my eyes and let her go where she would. Her mouth travelled across my jaw and down my neck, places she’d dared not kiss me before. I felt a little guilty… had I taken things too slow? Was this what she wanted all along? Or a previously unseen moment of vulnerability? Perhaps it was an equal measure of pain and passion, but if I could ease that pain, then I would be happy to oblige. She slid one strap of my pyjama top to the side, and the feel of her mouth and tongue on my bare shoulder was exquisite. I never knew the skin there was so sensitive, and the sensation reminded me of a bug’s tiny feet shuffling across my skin.

Her fingertips combed through the hair on the back of my head and walked down my spine, tickling the small of my back. She slid her hand into the waistband of my shorts, and her fingers were warm on the bare skin of my hip. This wasn’t so bad, after all. Her other hand slipped under my shirt and cradled my back. Her touch was frightening, but also exciting. Never had I allowed someone to hold me like that before.

She nibbled on the little bit of skin between my neck and shoulder, and I mirrored some of her movements, sliding my hands under her top to drag my fingernails lightly across the skin of her back. My touch elicited a soft moan from her, and the response elated me. I loved bringing her happiness. I loved sharing this moment with her. I loved her.

Rayna pressed her soft lips against mine again. This time she slid her tongue into my mouth, and while it felt weird at first, it was still warm and welcome. Then her left hand moved lower and tugged gently at my clothing. I opened my eyes, suddenly and keenly aware that she was attempting to undress me, and a rush of adrenaline shocked my body like the bolt of lightning earlier that day. Her right hand moved from my back to my chest, and her fingertips brushed against my breast.

Without a thought, I put my hands on her shoulders and shoved hard, pushing her away from me bodily. It was a purely panicked reaction.

Astonishment crossed her face, leaving her mouth agape. “What the fuck?”

I couldn’t believe I’d reacted so violently. Hopefully, I didn’t hurt her. My whole body shook, and my voice trembled as well. “I—I’m sorry. But I don’t think I can… I r-really—I don’t think I can do this.”

She placed her hands over her face and made a short, muffled scream into them. “Ugh! Why can’t things ever be simple with you, Sylvie? Merda!”

Clumsy excuses tumbled from my mouth, but she wasn’t having it. She grabbed a pillow and stomped off downstairs to the shop floor. I didn’t know what to do, nor did I have the strength for an emotional argument with Rayna. I cried myself to sleep instead.

[kringletheelf04]

I’m Santa?!

(Chapter two of Wrapped in love!)

After landing I look around.

"Does this look like home to you?!" Dad asks furiously.

"This is their home dad!" Charlie says, looking around in awe.

A kid with pointed ears walks out from the woods. He opens up the side of a pole and inputs a number. The ground begins to shake as we descend into the ground.

"What the fu—dge" I stop myself.

We fully descend into what looks like a toy factory. Kids with pointed ears stop what they are doing and stare at us. Some point and some gasp.

"Where are all the grown ups?" Dad asks to no one.

"This is so cool!" Charlie says, his eyes gleaming.

"You two stay here! I'll figure out where we are and what's going on." I say climbing out of the sleigh.

I spot the closest kid and call out to them.

"Hey! Who's in charge here?" I ask walking up to them.

"You are." The girl answers.

"No, who gives the orders? Who's your boss?" I clarify.

"You are." She glares.

"Who's the head elf, then?" I ask, hands on my hips.

"I told you! You are!" She glares daggers at me.

A boy around my age comes up and crosses his arms.

"Hey! Who's causin' all the trouble around here?" He directs to the girl.

"They are." She points at me.

"I was just asking—" I start until the boy cuts me off.

"Are we on a coffee break?"

"We don't drink coffee." The girl answers.

"Well then I guess the break is over! Back to work! Thanks!" He says, hands on his hips.

"Hey take it easy on her, will you?" I huff.

"I'm Bernard. Nice to meet you San- you're not Santa." He stops, looking me over once, confused.

"Of course I'm not, Santa's not real so I couldn't be him." I raise a brow at him.

"The guy with you must be the new Santa then." Bernard crosses his arms.

"I'm not santa either!" I hear dad argue.

"I thought I told you to stay with Charlie. I have this under control." I say with an even temper.

"Whoever put on the suit first is santa, that must be you." Bernard points to dad.

"I didn't touch that suit!" Dad defends.

"So you are Santa?" Bernard questions me.

"No!" I sputter.

"The other Santa disappeared, right?" He starts walking away.

" Wait a minute. Hey, I know where this is goin'. It wasn't my fault. The other guy fell. It was an accident. I've got homeowner's insurance and a good attorney. Not as good as my wife's, but let's not open up that wound. Hold it a minute. Wh-Whoa, whoa, whoa. How did you know the other guy was gone?" Dad follows after him.

I follow after him.

"Can I get you a drink?" Bernard asks.

"I'm hungry and thirsty too!" I feel a tug on my coat sleeve and hear my brothers voice.

"Charlie, I thought I told you to stay in the sleigh." Dad tells him.

"Like you're one to talk." I cross my arms.

"Who's this?" Bernard asks.

"This is my brother, Charlie." I say, side hugging him.

"Hiya sport!" Bernard smiles at him.

"Hey, Dad, he called me 'sport' just like you two!" Charlie beams.

"Hey, you know what. I got somethin' for you." Bernard says pulling a snow globe from his bag.

"Okay, now hold out your hand, all right? Now, be very careful. This is very old, just like me." He carefully hand's Charlie the globe.

"Shake it up Charlie." I urge.

Charlie shakes it gently and Charlie's eyes go wide as the globe changes.

"Why don't you, uh, hold onto it for me for a while. It might come in handy." He smirks.

"Thanks. Thanks a lot. I promise I'll take real good care of it." Charlie nods.

"Make sure you do!" Bernard affirms.

Charlie wanders off to show dad the snow globe.

"Larry, take Charlie and the dad here and get them some chow." Bernard calls out to another kid.

They get escorted to somewhere and I'm left standing alone with Bernard. He gives me a once over and huffs.

"I guess you are Santa." He says.

"Look, I am not Santa!" I rebuttal.

"Did you or did you not read the card?" Bernard asks, annoyed.

"Yeah I read the card." I confirm.

"Then you're the new Santa. In putting on the hat and jacket you accepted the contract." He reiterates.

"The card in the Santa suit. You said you read it, right? So when you put on the suit, you fell subject to the Santa Clause. 'ln putting on this suit and entering the sleigh the wearer waives any and all rights to any previous identity, real or implied, and fully accepts the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus. in perpetuity until such time that wearer becomes unable to do so by either accident or design.'" He reads off the card.

"That's ridiculous. I put on the suit because I was cold!" I try to explain.

"Try to understand this!" Bernard snaps.

All the kids around us stop and ooh at us.

"Let me explain something to you, okay? Toys have to be delivered. I'm not gonna do it. It's not my job. I'm just an elf. It's Santa's job, but Santa fell off a roof, your roof. You read the card, you put on the suit. That clearly falls under the Santa Clause." Bernard says, annoyed.

"So I'm Santa now?" I question.

"Yes." He breathes.

"But, Santa's supposed to be a guy. And I am not." I try to reason.

Charlie runs towards me with open arms, dad following behind.

"You have got to see this (y/n)!" Charlie gasps.

"You leave tomorrow morning. You have eleven months to get your affairs in order, and you're due back here Thanksgiving." Bernard says demandingly.

"They're not comin' back here on Thanksgiving!" Dad interjects.

"I'll ship the list to your house." Bernard tells me.

"The list?" I question.

"Come on, now. The list." Bernard gestures.

"He's makin a list," he starts.

"Checking it twice!" Charlie chimes in.

"Gonna find out who's naughty and nice!" The rest of the elves chime in.

Bernard's hands cover his face in embarrassment.

"Look, you put a "P" next to the kids who are nice and a "C" next to the naughty ones." He pulls his hands away.

"'P' and 'c'?" I raise my eyebrows.

""P" for present, "C" for coal, right, Bernard?" Charlie asks.

"Right. Now we got to get you out of those clothes. You all look soaked. Judy? Take dad to his room and then take Charlie to his please?" He asks an elf with a pointed hat.

"What do I do?" I ask.

"I'll bring you to your room. We have lots to discuss."

[floatingonalowvibe]

Chapter five

This chapter mentions the use of drugs, trauma, and eating issues. Nothing too bad just a little. Drink some water today please.

I knew I had to get up, but I honestly didn't feel like it.

Yesterday Neil helped me drop out, due to recent events. I moved back from my apartment to my mom's house. Charlie was happy to see me. I have heard news that he's been getting in trouble, but when he told me why, I understood why he did what he did, and I understand why he was punished.

I finally got to the point where I could drag myself out of bed. I could smell the pancakes being cooked downstairs. I knew they were only making them because of what happened, they were trying their best to make me feel better.

I made my way downstairs, my tired body not wanting to cooperate with me.

I went into the kitchen, Niel and Charlie were sitting at the table, while mom was cooking in the other part of the kitchen.

“Hey sport....” I heard Niel say, sounding as if I was a child, “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine.” I replied monotoned. I honestly didn’t feel like speaking. It just doesn’t feel right.

“You have a letter, it's from Bernard." Charlie said, passing an envelope to me. After Niel and mom finally started to believe Dad that he was in fact Santa, I got around to telling them that I was sending letters to the head elf that works there. Mom endlessly teases me about “wHaT iF hE lIKeS yOu”. I never can get out a response, because the thought of him liking me left me speechless. I knew it would never happen, he is centuries older than me, and he would never like me like that.

I sat down next to Charlie, tearing open the letter. The familiar smell of peppermint and cinnamon wafted up into my nose, instantly making me smile. It was a subtle but comforting smell.

I slipped the letter out of the envelope, I thought about reading the letter here at the table, but maybe not, due to the fact that I don’t trust that Charlie won't read it over my shoulder. And this letter is the response to the letter I sent him about what happened. I slipped the letter back in its envelope, saving it for later.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Charlie asked, his look of confusion was matching Niel’s.

“I’ll wait.” I spoke quickly and quietly. I watched as Mom came towards the table with a plate filled with pancakes stacked on top of one another in one hand and in the other a thing of syrup. The butter was already on the table, and I don’t understand why this family keeps the butter at the table. Oh well.

We ate, mostly in silence. It wasn't a comfortable silence though. I felt as though I didn't belong, I had been gone for so long, and now I'm back, after a really shitty turn of events, and now everyone's acting like I'm a bomb waiting to go off.And I feel that the only reason they're taking care of me is because they feel bad for me, they pity me.

I could barely eat; all my thoughts could think of was throwing up. I couldn’t even stand to look at the food. I knew it tasted good, but the thought of putting that shit into my mouth made me want to gag. Mom must have noticed that I wasn't eating, and the disgusted look on my face.

“Does it not taste good? " She asked, giving me a concerned look.

"No, no ,no! Not a all!" I said. "I'm just not very hungry."

Now I feel like a peice of shit

"You haven't been hungry these past few days, is something wrong?" I had no comment to that. He was right.

"I'm....just not hungry.." I mustered, feeling extremely guilty for somthing I don't know about.

I saw Niel purse his lips. He was getting annoyed. He's usually a pretty chill guy, but I was getting on his nerves now, just for not being hungry.

"You know that's not very healthy, right?"

All the attention of the room was on me, and I hated it. It was like a thousand eyes peircing through my skin, them knowing of my mistakes.

"I'm sorry ok? It's not my fault that I'm not hungry, I'm just not in the mood right now."

With that, I got up from the table, taking my plate to the kitchen. I went back upstairs to my room, the anger rising in me.I knew that such a small thing like me not being able to eat food was stupid. But somthing in me is pissed about it. It's not my fault, so why are they berrating me about it?

I quickly went to my closet, retrieving a small box that has been hidden from the rest of the house.I opened it, the familiar smell of marijuana filling my nose. It was comforting to me, it had a sense of calming over me.

I went over to my window where there was a little ledge, opening it. I took a deep breath of the crisp fall air, looking down into our back yard.Out there laid an old swing set. I remember the day we bought it, how the long hair I had flowed through the air as dad pushed me up and down.

I sighed, remembering those days. But I didn't miss them. Every adult I know has always told me to 'enjoy my childhood.'. There was nothing to enjoy about my childhood. From hiding my dysphoria, the divorce, to dealing with untreated mental illnesses, it was nowhere near fun. And I thought being older would be better, but I'm 19 and nothing major has gotten better. But I keep going anyways.

I took out the rolling paper, filling it with the weed, carefully rolling it up.

It took me a second to dig my lighter out of the deep abyss that is the box I keep stuff hidden in.

The only reason I'm smoking Is because of the stress. The meds that Neil gave me aren't working. They just make me super tired and numb.

I took of drag of the blunt, slowly exhaling the smoke out the window. As I watched the gray smoke drift out the window, I felt myself relaxing.

I shifted my weight over to my left side, and I felt the letter from Bernard in my pocket. I wondered how he responded to the dump truck worth of stuff I dumped on him.

I took the letter out of my pocket, taking the letter out of the rip I made earlier. And yet again, the scent of cinnamon and peppermint wafted into my nose, along with the scent of weed. I could feel my head swimming, but not in a bad way. It felt more like those colorful liquids you would slowly mix with a toothpick. I know that probably make zero sense but that's what it was like, along with a feeling of my limbs not being there.

𝘔/𝘯,

𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘬.

𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦.

𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘭; 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺. 𝘋𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦!!

*𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘴*

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦!

I stopped reading for a second. I didn’t believe what I just read.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘥

I had to read over the short letter a few times to make sure I read everything right. I was shocked. My dad said I could stay at the north pole.

I took another hit of my blunt, letting it sink in.This next week is gunna be fun.

A/n: sorry this one took a sec to post I procrastinated a lot.

[animehouse-moe]

Goblin Slayer Season 2 Episode 1: An Ordinary Spring Day

Much like the title of the episode, its contents are rather plain. However, this is the first episode under LidenFilms rather than WhiteFox, so I have a lot to talk about. The short of it, it'll probably be alright, but it stands zero chance of matching up to White Fox. Allow me to explain why.

First, let's start with some staff credits. Yes yes, very boring which is why I'm getting it out of the way first.

It's.... very interseting. The director of the Goblin Slayer movie is listed as "Chief Director", while the "Director" role goes to a second timer that's a long time LidenFilms staffer. Similarly we have a total of 3 character designers (1 main and two sub). The main designer did Tsuki To Laika, while the two subs have done.... largely nothing. Together, these pairs of roles cause a good bit of confusion and concern. Does the "Chief director" role have any influence on the director? How much input do the sub designers have on the characters? It already presents a head scratcher to viewers that are aware of staff.

Regardless though, one of the biggest changes that's evident in the first episode is the color designer. Totally new person, and you can feel it right away with how much more saturated the colors are in comparison.

Following that up, and equally as important is the director of photography, and art direction. You might not think it a big deal, but it can be a really big game changer (it's also weird). For reference, Keisuke Nozawa is the director of photography for S2. Not bad, right? They did Vivy. But oh, there's something different about the credit. All their prior work lists Graphnica in parentheses. Still yet to see what the difference is, but I think it's fair to argue that it will be different than what they provided on Vivy. Thankfully for art direction, we've got the same one as the previous movie and first season.

However, there's a reason I talked about color design and photography changes as well. They're important in how the art is viewed, and with that I can finally start into the episode itself!

The opening is.... entirely unneeded. We know what Goblin Slayer's about. Showing those choice scenes is nothing more than torture porn.

Anyways, following the flashback we get to see Goblin Slayer out and in the open. Up close, his character design looks good. It's more detailed and the proportions are slightly different, but overall there's not much to write home about with him.

Priestess and High Elf Archer make their appearances though, and you can pretty quickly tell the differences. Both in terms of character and color design.

Archer's hair is more "pointy" at the top, and both her and Priestess sport smaller eyes with slightly different shapes. In terms of color design, you can tell much more easily than with Goblin Slayer that the colors are more saturated with them. Deeper and more vibrant blues and greens adorn their clothing in comparison to S1.

I don't think making it brighter is necessarily bad, but I do think it changes the tone as well as messes with the art direction. I mean, just take a look at the wooden tables here, with the brighter coloring and lighting they don't really look good. However, the darker wood textures still look alright (something about how color works).

And you know, that screenshot provides a good example of something else. Not quite character design, but maybe crowd design? Yes, the background characters do move more than season 1, but their designs are totally out of tune with the rest of the world. The lack of detail, as well as the vibrance that their clothes can add makes for a jarring scene in comparison to what we were used to with season 1.

It's a very big tradeoff, and in background characters like this I don't think its worth it. We're already losing atmosphere thanks to the color design and changeup in terms of photography, so adding onto the pile of less than stellar differences isn't great.

In terms of boons though, despite the added complexity of the designs, they seem rather well animated.

Of course, it's not all sunshine and rainbows as they struggle to keep characters on model, and the designs don't work too well at a distance. There's just too much detail that they try to compress into the designs that either you end up with a sort of crunchy or weird feel, or they don't really resemble the original design at all.

So all in all, I think there's chances that this season is good. So long as they're in a darker setting or at night, the art looks good. And considering how infrequent crowds are going to appear, I think they can scrape by. It's mostly in terms of direction and storyboarding how well they can handle the designs. Though as a bit of a teaser, they're struggling. They had 7 animation directors on this episode, and a total of 7 key animators. Not great, but I think it can hold up well enough given what we've seen with this episode. Though I suppose the real test will be once we get to see a fight.

[mysticonsheadcanons]

Can you do an episode where Arkayna tried to play more sports with Zarya

Arkayna and Zarya are in the stronghold's living room, with Zarya playing a video game and Arkayna watching a romance movie on her spellpad. Gawayne comes in, and when Zarya protests, Gawayne points out how villains get into the stronghold. He asks Zarya and Arkayna to tell their parents that he was a good king, but they refuse. Gawayne points out how it's weird that Zarya and Arkayna are sisters, as they're so different, before leaving. While Arkayna is bothered by the words, Zarya doesn't notice. Zarya stops playing video games and plans to get ready for a Stream Bike competition, and Arkayna asks to come with her, saying that she was going to get one anyone to start learning. Zarya is confused, but agrees to stop by a store so Arkayna can get one.

They arrive at the Stream Bike competition, where it's a mixture of a bike race and obstacle course. Zarya leads Arkayna through an obstacle course, and while Zarya does it easily, Arkayna struggles. Zarya notices that there's still time for Arkayna to register for the Stream Bike competition if she wants, and Arkayna agrees. Zarya mentions how fun it is to go Sky Biking with her sister.

The day of the competition comes, and Arkayna is watching the races before theirs, and notice people pushing others off their bikes. Zarya shrugs, saying that it's a rough competition, and that's why she never taught Piper Stream Biking, then remarks that, as she was Piper's age when she started and being a Mysticon would help toughen her up, it probably would be fine to start. It is explained that there will be preliminary races, followed by a final one the next day.

The race begins, and Zarya and Arkayna are racing against two orcs that are from Kymraw's gang. They overhear Kymraw telling the orcs to win the trophy at all costs, as the metal is very powerful and can resist magic. During the race, the orcs focus on Zarya, and injuring her after knocking her off her sky bike. However, as the orcs are busy with Zarya, Arkayna barely manages to win, despite struggling to control her bike.

That evening, Zarya helps Arkayna train for the race, and notices that Arkayna doesn't seem to be enjoying it. She asks if Arkayna is worried about the orcs, and while Arkayna says that she is, Zarya knows she's hiding something. Arkayna reveals that she finds Sky Biking rough, but wants to have things in common so Zarya continues to want to be her sister. Zarya is confused, and Arkayna reveals that they have an older cousin who stopped hanging out with Arkayna she was becoming more interested in fashion instead of martial arts. Zarya assures Arkayna that, while they're different, they'll always be close. Arkayna and Zarya hug.

It's the final race, and the Pink Skulls come for support. Em tells Kasey that she's worried about Piper, as the elf wasn't seen watching either the last race, and isn't there for the current race. Kasey says that Piper is either going to watch the race stealthily by following the racers instead of looking at the screen. Em brings up the possibility that Piper feels left out, watching Zarya do something with Arkayna while excluding her.

The racers in the finals are Arkayna, two other orcs from Kymraw's gang, and a mysterious elf named Glitter. The race begins, and while one orc is interested in going as fast as possible, another orc is interfering with Arkayna and Glitter. While Glitter manages to pass the orc, Arkayna is struggling. Glitter seems concerned, silently looking at Arkayna, but Arkayna, more worried about Kymraw getting the precious metal than a random citizen, tells Glitter to keep going. Glitter nods than speeds up towards the finish line, and barely manages to outspeed the first orc.

Glitter recieves the trophy as Arkayna meets up with the other Mysticons, excluding Piper. Glitter than goes up to the Mysticons, and asks Arkayna if she's all right. They recognize the voice as Piper, and Piper reveals herself. She explains how she secretly taught herself how to Sky Bike after watching Zarya do so in the undercity. The Mysticons laugh, and Arkayna comments that Zarya does have a sister to go Sky Biking with after all.