#IoD!Open

[gracehosborn]

Here's a little writeblr ask for you! What's the conflict that really gets the story started?

Hi! Thank you for the ask!

I’ll answer for both my fictional projects for this one.

In Ink of Destruction, the conflict starts to unfold under the guise of curiosity. Having been set up on a blind date, Alex winds up with her belongings soaked in the rain in her escape, resulting in her going to a local store to purchase a pen which turns out to be quite mysterious.

In the first volume of The American Icarus, the story immediately kicks off with Alexander running home at the news of his mother falling sick. The conflict starts to bud when members of the local court come to seize the house after Alexander’s mother passed away some time later.

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.

[just-a-ghost00]

What you should know about them

Think of a person that you would like to enquire about before picking your group. It can be romantic or platonic.

Group 1 🐚 

Overall energy represented by the Fool | Spread : 6 of cups, 6 of pentacles, Justice, 5 of wands, King of wands, 3 of pentacles

This person has a child, possibly a son. Their life is taking a radical U-turn. They are starting anew. This could mean they are either divorcing or moving away from a situation / a job that caused conflicts in their life. They are looking for balance and a sense of peace because their life was chaotic up until now. The presence of their child and their wellbeing is also a major factor in their decisions. There were a lot of conflicts in their household regarding their job. Maybe this person was too ambitious and not open enough to learning and listening to people's advice. Maybe their responsibilities clouded their vision to the point where they were disregarding their reponsibilities as a partner and a parent. It could also be they had an affair with a younger person or at least they admitted to having their eyes set on another person. Because on the cards, the king of wands is depicted looking at the left while he's kinda throwing fire at the right. On the left of this king of wands is the 5 of wands, showing a young woman being cornered by four other people. She looks modest but strong in her power, even when acculated by more influential people. On the right of the king is the 3 of pentacles, picturing some kind of nun. The nun looks kinda sad. She is contemplating and her heart is guarded by her crossed hands. As if she were saying : "Lord why did it have to come to this?" It's like the king wants to rescue the 5 of wands person while he's potentially hurting the 3 of pentacles person. This is very specific and may not resonate with everyone.

If this isn't the case of your person, it could be that they are feeling triggered and cornered by other people and they have a hard time moving on. Instead of being the bigger person and not giving them any more attention, they dwell on what happened and try to wrap their mind around ways they can work this out, hoping they could change them. This person is longing for meaningful connections where they don't have to fight or overgive to be respected and cared for, to receive love and acceptance. They are tired of fighting for bread crumbs and they intend on getting retribution for the wrong that has been done to them. This person could be a soulmate of yours. You are bonded by karma and divine justice. They bring balance in exchange and wealth, as well as reciprocated love. Their presence in your life is a retribution for all the hard times you went through. You may be wary of them at first and try to resist the attraction you feel for them. But with time, you'll learn to see them for who they are and work together towards a new journey without fear of being judged or deceived. This energy feels very similar to group 3 so you may want to check that as well.

Letters : T N I D V S I O Z D I E T E Words/signs/names : division, divide, vision, tides, vines, zones, iode, ions, veins, tied, Dion, soviet, diet, dine, tones, dives, zen, Sonie, son, NOV(ember), Ted, sin, void, OVNI (UFO), Dio, TV, zionist, edits, tense, videos, visio, Oz, TNT, DVDs, seize, Vinted

Group 2 🎐

Overall energy represented by 7 of pentacles | Spread : queen of cups, hierophant, page of swords, king of cups, emperor, fool

The person you're thinking about could be your FS and/or divine counter part. If you're in a relationship with them or you intend to be, there could be jealousy around the relationship coming from a father figure. The connection between you needs time to progress but a good outcome can be expected. A new phase in the relationship is taking place. This could be them taking it to the next level by offering commitment or moving in with you. Your relationship could be work related. This person is very grounded and nurturing. They have a sweet and reliable energy that makes people feel super safe and protected. They are a good communicator and don't have issues with voicing out their needs, their worries, their feelings. For some of you this person could be religious. For some this person likes to have a lot of fun and do a lot of outdoor activites. They like to work out. I'm getting a very masculine energy from this person. As a child, they may have delt with toxic masculinity and controlling parents, especially their dad. I'm really getting this person potentially proposing to you. Cause the Hierophant combined with the page of swords makes me think of legal matters surrounding commitment. So they could be filing a paper to officially recognize you as their "wife"/"husband", or at least someone they are "tied to" according to the law. I feel like this is very important for them. Like this person was not fully into the relationship because that important step wasn't reached. I mean, this would be logical knowing they are potentially religious. They were waiting for engagement to fully embrace the connection you have.

I asked spirit for more information as I wasn't getting much from the initial spread. The cards were the Hierophant again combined with the Star and the 3 of pentacles. So I'm getting that for some of you the relationship wasn't official. It wasn't even publically known that this person liked you on a romantic level to the point of wanting to marry you. They even hid it from their family, maybe because of cultural differences or because you were from different social backgrounds. For some I'm even getting your person is an important public figure. They couldn't tell people they had the intention of marrying you because they would have gotten backlash about it. But they're tired of hiding what they feel and they want to be able to work on this relationship without shame nor fear. They want to do right by you, in the name of the law and the name of their spiritual beliefs. So they want to make it public. They want to close the distance between you. I'm also getting a message of this connection being a protection for you. A protection from a rigid father figure or from masculines in general. It's like this person wants to "claim" that you are theirs because they just can't stand anymore the though of you being courted by other people.

Letters : B G E R A R S B L I T E N I words/signs/names : Nile, Blaise, Argent, bites, raise, arts, breast, genie, girls, Line, Lina, real, siren, gears, bears, big, lasting, Italie (Italy), Brésil (Brazil), trains, Real (as in Real Madrid), Neil, rentals, Bergen, Iran, star, stranger, liars, brags, listen, bars, blasting, Berlin, Nial, anis, teens, trials, brats, barbers, grabs, gelatine

Group 3 🌊

Overall energy 6 of cups | Spread : Tower, 8 of wands, The Lovers, page of cups, King of swords, Queen of swords

This person is a soulmate. They have divine counterpart potential. There was jealousy surrounding this person's relationship in the past, a lot of gossip that possibly lead to a major shift in their life. Possibly a breakup/divorce. There were a lot of interferences, a lot of heat. They couldn't see clear anymore. So a choice has been made by this person to move on from their toxic environment. They could have met you in the process of moving away from this relationship and they decided to give your connection a chance. They like you more than just a little. Yet, they may be scared of what they feel so they could be somewhat reluctant to make a move. At the same time, they want to come forward quickly and tell you what's on their heart. There's a lot of conflicting energy surrounding this person.

What's positive in this situation is that they view you as their equal. They're aware of what you can bring to the table and their feelings are genuine. I don't sense any ill will coming from this person. But rather a lot of affection and a strong desire to protect. They are evolving quickly. After the shift in their personal life, a lot of things have happened to them at a fast pace. Maybe they quickly found a new home if they were looking to relocate. Maybe it was about job offers or just finding a new person (aka you). They quickly moved on from whatever trouble they were facing before. They are not the type to dwell on a situation if they know they did their part and there is nothing more they can do. Even more when they know what they want. They may not be sure about what they hope for with you, but they know for certain they want to get closer and get to know you better. I feel for this group your meeting with this person is quite recent. Either that or they recently developed feelings for you which weren't there before.

I felt the need to ask for clarification about the gossip surrounding their relationship. The card are : 2 of wands, High Priestess, 3 of pentacles. People were doubting this person's loyalty toward their partner because they were not being transparent about what they were working on. They were elusive about their projects, their job. People may have found suspicious that they spent more time at work away from their partner (and possibly kids) instead of being home with the ones they loved. When all this person was doing was just to try to protect their loved ones from their work struggles. For others, it could have been that they were accused of having an affair with a coworker. I'm getting this person's job requires to travel a lot, especially abroad. People were suggesting to their partner that they had a double life, that they found another person in a foreign country with whom they were cheating on their partner. In reality, people were wrongly assuming your person's intents. They have a very different conception of relationships than what most people think. If for others love for a partner should be shown by spending quality time with them and constantly being present for them, they like to show appreciation for their partner by trusting them enough to leave them be and have their free space. This person doesn't feel the need to know and control everything about their partner. They don't feel the need to be constantly tied to their loved ones. They like to have their own little bubble and they allow the same for their partner. They instead show love by supporting their person's independence, giving words of affirmation, providing a different point of view on life, taking care of their health by doing acts of services. For instance, they are definitely the type to work extra hours to provide for their family so that their partner doesn't have to and can enjoy more free time. They have been wrongly judged. You might want to check group 1.

Letters : M V I C A K M O T E S S R words/signs/names : Kassim, cakes, cars, moms, VISA, raise, crest, tears, Sommer (summer), Kaiser, sister, socks, cream, voice, cries, Moris, Cris, mess, Messi, Roma, mics, east, tram, Vimeo, Cameo, cams, treks, tracks

[dyrewrites]

Heads Up 7 Up

@nettleandthorne tagged me =D

Rules: Post seven sentences from your latest WIP and then tag up to seven people to do the same.

I tag: @tryingtimi @starbuds-and-rosedust @pb-dot and leaving this OPEN for anyone else

I've been sharing the Nanowrimo story as I go, so that is on full display around here. Which means you get more Weald and Wen instead because yes I am still editing it even though I'm writing a new thing, I am insane, this is known.

The sight of the glittering black treats flickered every core that spied them, burning them ever brighter as those thick crystal flecks burnt up in them.  But the intact Myr had warnings still to share. Around spilled bites she creaked, “Treats shiny, but fire still too bright, snuff or Iode and friends will peeks for selfs how cold and sharp beasties are.” 

Mitra sighed and motioned for the other Myr to join her as she dug handfuls of moss and dirt and tossed them onto the flames. Then, as the Myr crunched the last of their shared meal, they huddled around their Iode in the center of the scorched pile of stalks and moss...and Mitra burned warm and even. Despite the strangeness of their compassion, their stone burned sweet on her surface and she nuzzled closer, tighter. She soaked up the scratches and tinks of rock and crystal and soon the Myr’s warning of the Auru, the pain of the past turns, even the dread of what was to come melted in the heat of their embrace.

[zelda7999]

Last Line Tag! 

Rules: In a new post, share the last line from your current wip, and tag as many people as there are words. 

Saw the post via @anechomirrored who left it as an open invitation!

This is from a DCA fic I am working on in the shadows and have yet to post anything about;  “While you learned some tricks to keep you safe, Moon still wasn’t 100%.” 

I am a nervous mess when it comes to tagging, soooooo I ain’t tagging 12 people that’s for sure. 

Tags: @daye-dream @clxckwork-sun-n-moon @some-donkus-named-iode @senpaiweird @lavenoon @b-o-e and anyone else who wants to do it! :D 

(and of course only do so if you’re comfortable sharing/spoiling whatever you’re writing rn <3 <3 <3) 

[the-kutlass-kratch]

But he welcomed me~

Intentionally or not, he welcomed me with open arms.

Gio lus’d xculdqg exxj iod u ztuwin, lus gio?

You can’t exactly keep out a shadow, can you?

*He pushes in closer to Yorgrim, trying to block the spirit’s taunting to no avail.*

please … tha days been shite already , please .

[govindhtech]

The AMD Instinct MI300 Series accelerator Features

The AMD Instinct MI300 Features

Drives in the industry that are pushing the boundaries of innovation to address the various and intricate requirements of high performance computing (HPC) and artificial intelligence (AI) applications are the continuous growth of data and the demand for real-time results.  While high levels of computation, storage, huge memory capacity, and high memory bandwidth are requirements shared by HPC and AI systems, their applications differ slightly.

While HPC applications need processing power at higher precisions and resources that can handle large amounts of data and execute complex simulations required by scientific discoveries, weather forecasting, and other data-intensive workloads, AI applications need significant computing speed at lower precisions with big memory to scale generative AI, train models, and make predictions. 

With two different variants tailored to these particular AI and HPC requirements, the newest line of AMD accelerators, the AMD Instinct MI300 Series, uses the third-generation Compute DNA (AMD CDNA 3) architecture. Partners can create and swiftly implement scalable solutions across all contemporary workloads with the upgraded AMD ROCm 6 open production-ready software platform, enabling them to tackle some of the most significant problems facing the globe with remarkable efficiency.

The AMD CDNA 3 Architecture

Embracing improved packaging to enable heterogeneous integration and deliver excellent performance, the AMD CDNA 3 architecture (Figure 1 below) represents a fundamental shift for AMD’s accelerated computing strategy.  Customers can now have the density and power efficiency needed to take on the most difficult computing challenges of our time by adopting a new computing paradigm that changes the way CPUs and GPUs are coupled together. With up to eight vertically stacked compute dies and four I/O dies (IOD) integrated into a heterogeneous package that is connected by the 4th Gen Infinity Architecture, the completely redesigned architecture fundamentally repartitions the compute, memory, and communication elements of the processor. 

The newest AMD Instinct MI300 Series family also features eight stacks of high-bandwidth memory integrated for improved speed, efficiency, and programmability.  This makes it simple to build AMD Instinct accelerator variations with CPU and GPU chiplet technologies to satisfy various workload needs. The world’s first high-performance, hyper-scale class APU is the AMD Instinct MI300A APU, which consists of three “Zen 4” x86 CPU compute dies tightly coupled with six GPU accelerator compute dies (XCD) of the 3rd generation AMD CDNA architecture. All of these dies share a single pool of virtual and physical memory in addition to an AMD Infinity Cache memory with exceptionally low latency.

AMD Instinct MI300A APU: Designed with HPC in mind

Large dataset handling is a key feature of the AMD Instinct MI300A APU accelerator, which makes it perfect for sophisticated analytics and computationally demanding modeling. In order to integrate 3D-stacked “Zen 4” x86 CPUs and AMD CDNA 3 GPU XCDs onto a single package with high-bandwidth memory (HBM), the MI300A (Figure 2 below) makes use of a novel 3D chiplet design. The AMD Instinct MI300A APU boasts 14,592 GPU stream processors in addition to 24 CPU cores. Numerous of the largest, most scalable data centers and supercomputers in the world are anticipated to use this advanced architecture to power their MI300A accelerators for accelerated HPC and AI applications.

This will enable the scientific and engineering communities to contribute to further advancements in a variety of fields, including healthcare, energy, transportation, climate science, and more. Powering the upcoming El Capitan supercomputer, which is anticipated to be among the fastest in the world when it goes online, is part of this. It has two exaflops.

Cutting-Edge AI is the focus of the AMD Instinct MI300X Accelerator

Large language models and other cutting-edge AI applications needing large-scale inference and training on vast data sets are intended for the AMD Instinct MI300X (Figure 3 below) accelerator.  In order to achieve this, two extra AMD CDNA 3 XCD chiplets and an additional 64GB of HBM3 memory were added to the MI300X, which also replaced the three “Zen 4” CPU chiplets installed on the MI300A.  This results in an improved GPU that can handle larger AI models, with up to 192GB of memory.

It is possible for cloud providers and enterprise users to do more inference jobs per GPU by running larger language models directly in memory. This can also reduce the total number of GPUs needed, speed up inference performance, and minimize the total cost of ownership (TCO).

Available, Tested, and Prepared

With interoperability for industry software frameworks, the AMD ROCm6 open-source software platform is designed to maximize the performance of AMD Instinct MI300 accelerators for HPC and AI workloads. ROCm, which may be tailored to your individual requirements, is a set of drivers, development tools, and APIs that enable GPU programming from low-level kernel to end-user applications. Within a free, open-source, integrated software ecosystem with strong security measures, you can create, work together on, test, and implement your apps.

After the software is built, it can be moved between multiple vendors’ accelerators or between different inter-GPU connectivity architectures, all without requiring a specific device.  ROCm is especially well-suited to computer-aided design (CAD), artificial intelligence (AI), GPU-accelerated high performance computing (HPC), and scientific computing. For HPC, AI, and machine learning applications, the Infinity Hub now offers a selection of sophisticated GPU software containers and deployment guides that will help you expedite system deployments and time to insights.  

In conclusion

The expansion of data and the demand for immediate outcomes will keep pushing the limits of AI and HPC applications. In order to democratize AI and promote industry-wide innovation, differentiation, and cooperation with their partners and customers, AMD will persist in promoting an open-source policy that spans from single server solutions to the biggest supercomputers in the world.

The AMD Instinct MI300 Series accelerators, the ROCm 6 software platform, and the next-generation AMD CDNA 3 architecture are designed to optimize your applications to help you achieve your objectives, whether you’re getting ready to conduct the next scientific simulation on a supercomputer or figuring out the most cost-effective shipping route.  Await news from AMD system solution partners in the near future.

Read more on Govindhtech.com

[human-antithesis]

Purpuric Cytoskeletal Glucid Oxidase

Oxidase sectioning ducts Within squared dissected rhumps Viewing purpura shriek Parenchymal functs Rotated till trace the fracts Thin fibrosis splattering rips Scanning shoved muco plasmosis Shrinking pathogenical Enlarge mutate Cytoskeletic proteal incubates Cleaving digested macerates Blotting smapling rigid cortex Slides rapidly frozen Chilled in a cryostat granule Polyblatopurpuric sadistically dry Influxed proliferous thickening Matrix pourt deplect vessel Gelatinase effluxe glucidous Clonetics diluted Necrophagist exudation Seeding dish stimulates swine Oxidase decompsose In exhuming mutilate Pica recents morphoblasting Surface drips Lumen swelling Towards the dilated Secretory cilliarh connection Multifocally lacked lucent purpura Discoid contour inzise Pro edematic massive Eating of the drenchs Envenomed severed crusts Open wide fractures And oblations Sepparates from process stain Dispersed cleaving Influence in the malignant Peripheral deformocortex iods Cotonic spreading diseases On the pulp Neo plastic stabbings Surgical clots Between the skeleticous The curve mucosa Urea graded and Blended post fix Dead Dead purpuric Cytoskeletal oxidase Organ embalmed necrony Enzymatic genotyping visect Stained adherent Acute the spinal cord Brizf among the disrupting gray To the crimson tissue devours Pre cluded shrieking Shoving inflammatory Cortical samples now infiltrates By the glucid oxidase stagnates The putrid increments In the meat Drainaging and eating pathology Post mortem statue of the flesh Pleo morphism hacked Skeletal excrements In blobs of the drench

[steelyankee]

Off to the Side

Tucked away at the Hunt Scanlon conference. #Project365

The audience watches the presentation at IoD Lunch has been consumed and networking has been networked. The next presenter is at the podium and I’m sitting off to the side. Welcome inside the Hunt Scanlon conference that I’m moderating at the IoD (Institute of Directors) in London. The building — at 116 Pall Mall — opened in 1828 and is adorned with many fascinating works of art. It screams…

[gracehosborn]

Writing Share Tag

Taking up the open tag from @kaylinalexanderbooks just because I've been in a writing mood lately, and have been loving the revisions I've been slowly making to my fantasy novel, Ink of Destruction.

Here's a little new moment from IOD that I love:

“Alexandra, where have you been?” Lenna’s voice was filled with worry. “It’s a long story,” I said, “but I’m okay. Standing by the doors to the Historical Society Museum.” Lenna let out a sigh of relief, and a few moments later I could hear the opening of an umbrella. “Stay there,” she said with sternness. “I’m coming with an umbrella.” As the phone hung up in my ear, I looked towards [Redacted], watching as he looked towards the figure I had noticed. Turning back towards the street, I could now see in the light of headlights Lenna making her way across the wide crosswalk to our left, walking as quickly as possible. Making it to the sidewalk, she turned left, and broke out into a run towards the stairs. Stopping right below me and [Redacted], she began to close her lavender umbrella as she walked up the staircase. Before any of us could speak, she embraced me in a firm hug. Stepping back slightly, but keeping her hands on my arms, Lenna looked up at me with a bright, relieved smile. “Just glad you are okay. Why were you in there for—“ Lenna stopped herself, clearly having noticed my shortened hair by the gasp she let out. “What happened to your hair?” “It was cut by a sword.” “A sword?” “Yes,” I said, slowly removing my arm from her as a strand of hair fell in my face. “A sword.” As my hand rose up to brush the hair aside, the sleeve of my leather jacket slid down due to the force of friction and gravity, revealing the red imprints left on my wrist from the rope. Seeing the marks, Lenna lightly grabbed my hand, pulling it towards her to get a closer look. “Are these rope burns? You were tied up with rope? Alex, what happened?” Meeting her worried gaze, I attempted to give her a reassuring smile. “There’s quite a lot to explain,” I simply said, glancing over my shoulder at [Redacted] as I finished.

Just love these two, and this crazy novel. I should definitely talk about Ink of Destruction more--please feel free to invade my inbox!

Tagging: @sunset-a-story @queerfox-tales @binch-i-might-be @meerawrites and anyone else who wants to play along.

[fluri-above-all]

ToV Rarepair Drabble - Scars

One of the oneshot prompts I've seen lately was about scars. And I've been wanting to write Harry x Ioder again ever since @nagia36 brought up one of my old drabbles...Harry doesn't really get the attention he deserves so I wrote this to make it up to him.

Warning for suggestive themes.

Scars

Harry’s body held scars. 

The first was across the bridge of his nose and honestly…he couldn’t remember how it happened. Yeager had told him once it was from crying so much while he was a baby that the tears created the cut turned scar as they fell. This had prompted further crying from the very young blonde. 

His grandfather later pat him on the head (and whacked Yeager upside his) and proceeded to tell him even he did not know how Harry got it. When Garry's family was driven out of their hometown, he’d reunited with Harry and his mother and the mark had already marred his unconscious face. His mother had had a mental breakdown and disappeared one night, taking the secret with her. With his memories of that day unknown and lost to him, Harry eventually came to simply accept the scar as one of the earliest parts of himself. It was his “favorite” if he had to pick one. 

There were also scars that were not his favorite. They adorned his back, parts of his chest and even the side of his neck. These were from skirmishes, battles and attacks on his life. The ones on his chest weren’t visible with his clothes on, even with his shirt barely covering his torso. The scar on his neck was small, from a younger part of his life when someone had foolishly tried to take him hostage. Their plan would have worked, had they not nicked Harry in the neck and set the guilds into frenzy. It was one of the few times he had ever seen his grandfather look truly angry, “seeing red” is what he’d later come to recognize it as. 

Since that day no one has tried to kidnap or capture the young man. That incident was probably why….

It could also be from the size Harry had grown during his years of rebuilding himself as well...but he liked to think the terrors of Altosk had spooked his assailants away.

One of the scars on his back was up by his shoulder, where the tusk of a large monster had snagged him from behind and pinned him to the ground. Harry winces even now just thinking about that particular instance. 

The oddest scar of all – In Harry’s opinion anyway – was on his ankle. A blood-thirsty group of bandits had attempted – very poorly – to attack the still inexperienced Don on his trip through the desert. One of the bandits speared him in the ankle with a harpoon gun, the retraction dragged Harry several feet before Raven and the other members of Altosk dispatched the group. When the weather gets cold, he can feel the irritation in his foot from the long scarred over wound. It was his “least favorite” if he had to pick. 

Still, the young Don of 23 years took pride in his scars. They were symbols depicting an exciting (and often dangerous) life, proof that through all he had endured, he was strong. And more importantly, he was still here. He'd been stabbed in the back, attacked head on, pulled against his will, and yet, he was still standing tall. 

Harry had never been particularly close with death; none of the wounds engraved on his body were life-threatening. If anything, people would say he had Lady Luck on his side. He'd scoff at that, being a man who believed in carving his own path and not fate…

Still...

That didn’t mean he was itching to meet his maker enough to test it. As reckless as he could be he had no desire to push the limits of his life. It was something precious that had been fought for and sacrificed his whole life. And through those scars, he knew they were signs that represented those who had lost their life for him…It meant their sacrifice was not in vain. He would continue to fight. No matter what it took. 

It was his relentless and unwavering ability to never back down that made Ioder worry – he knew that. 

The first time they had made love he’d hesitated to show himself to the other blonde. Harry wondered if the young Emperor would find him grotesque with his marred skin, a dark contrast to Ioder’s pale perfection. But Ioder said nothing about them, even kissed the one across his collarbone. 

Harry didn’t want to admit it, but the tender intimacy made his pulse quicken and his body waver slightly. 

Who knew a person’s bitter scars could elicit such a sweet reaction? Certainly not Harry. He didn’t think his body could ever be so sensitive to another’s touch, especially with his scars. 

It was yet another surprise that kept Harry wrapped around the Emperor’s finger – contrary to everyone’s opinion of Ioder being swept away by Harry. It was another surprise and a secret Harry wanted to keep to himself. 

But Ioder had ways of figuring him out. 

And he was always so damn sneaky about it too...

The day was innocent enough (as always), Ioder was signing off paperwork at his desk and Harry was lying on the nearby couch. He'd come unannounced so Ioder had insisted Harry be patient and wait for him to finish. It was fairly hot outside, so even with the window open, save for the occasional breeze, it was almost unbearable. 

Except Ioder appeared perfectly fine. 

And for some reason, that irritated Harry. The Emperor wore considerably more when it came to his attire and not only that, the material was bulkier as well. 

“Aren’t you hot?!” Harry cried out, unable to take the heat of the room any longer. Just looking at Ioder made him sweat. The sudden sound of Harry’s voice must have startled Ioder, because he had blinked several times in shocked confusion. 

“Ah forget it, you’re not even paying attention are you…” Harry accused, knowing Ioder had a way of tuning everything out once ensconced in his work. 

“Don’t apologize either.” He added as he saw the gears turning in Ioder’s head. The Emperor likely realized he was not being the best of hosts at the moment. Stretching his arms above his head, Harry elicited a yawn and removed his vest. With the dark garment discarded, he already felt immensely better. 

And while he was at it, he might as well make himself comfortable. Untucking his shirt, Harry’s hands moved to pull the shirt over his head – 

“What are you doing?” Ioder questioned - eyes wide as he regarded the young Don mid shirt removal. 

“I’m taking my shirt off.” Harry answered simply. He opened his mouth to question if there was a problem but then he had to briefly consider where he was. 

Oh that’s right…people are worried about propriety here….

He lifted the shirt up and off anyways,  dropping it on the couch next to him. 

“Harry!” Ioder scolded, face a light shade of pink as he tried not to stare too intently. 

“It’s hot.” Harry regarded with a shrug. “Besides….” He turned his head to the side, a suggestive look on his face. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.” Harry withheld the smirk threatening to burst forth at the way Ioder’s cheeks flushed before he looked away. The young Don chuckled to himself, smug with this victory. Ioder went back to work once his face returned to a normal shade, but Harry wasn’t making things easy for him. 

Perhaps it was a low blow, distracting Ioder the way he was with his bare torso. 

And the young Emperor was certainly distracted. He stole the occasional glance as Harry sat back to lounge on the couch once more, the Don feeling quite relieved with his skin exposed. With all the sun he’d soaked up recently, his skin had tanned considerably, especially the front of his chest where he showed most of his muscled chest. 

Now Harry wasn’t a narcissist, but he couldn’t help but admit it was a pretty damn good look on him. Catching Ioder staring out the corner of his eye was all the confirmation that he needed. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Ioder’s pen as he wrote, a contented bliss took over him at how comfortable things had become with a few simple garments removed. 

In fact, he almost drifted off to sleep.

Almost.

The sound of Ioder’s chair shuffling back switched his brain back into alertness. Maybe he was taking a break? Ioder sometimes scooted the chair back to get more room to stretch. 

However he didn’t hear the groan come as it normally did when Ioder did this. Instead, he felt the presence of the young Emperor much closer to him than before. Harry opened his eyes to see what Ioder was up to when the other blonde was actually right in front of him. 

“Iod-“

Harry tried to sit up to ask what was wrong when Ioder pushed Harry’s shoulders back against the couch, the Emperor lifting his legs to straddle him. 

“It’s not nice to tease.” Ioder scolded, but it lacked the disciplinary bite it usually did when he was reprimanding the young Don. Instead it held a hint of mischief, with no short amount of lust. 

Harry had to admit – Ioder lasted much longer than he thought he would. The Don’s arms wrapped around Ioder’s waist, drawing the other man closer. “You know I have every intention of following through…” he answered, voice low and suggestive.

He stretched up to kiss Ioder but Ioder leaned down instead, placing a soft kiss on the tiny scar on the side of his neck, warm hands lightly tracing the sensitive flesh across his once injured collarbone and chest. The sudden physical contact elicited a moan Harry hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Pliant lips rested against the young Don’s ear, warm breath causing Harry to shutter as Ioder spoke. 

“Not if I don’t let you.”

The tanned blonde raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Ioder – Mr. Pacifist – able to subdue someone twice his size? He’s seen Ioder talk down people much stronger than him, but Harry? Did he really think he had an edge over him that would keep him submissive?

Ioder seemed to sense Harry’s apprehension and Harry could almost feel the smirk coming from behind his calm expression. “I notice things about you too Harry.” He kissed along Harry’s jaw, sending sparks down the Don’s spine. “I’d noticed this a while ago but…” Ioder trailed off as he kissed down the other blonde’s neck. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, finding he didn’t much mind letting the young Emperor take the reins now and then.

“But?” Harry inquired, leaning his head back to allow Ioder better access. 

Hands traveled down Harry’s sides to the dip of his hips, tracing gently over the scar along his hip bone. Harry’s eyes shot open as he bucked his waist up at Ioder’s touch, a soft gasp escaping his mouth. 

“But you really like it when I touch your scars like that.” 

If looks could kill….well…Harry could never kill Ioder, but he certainly wanted to upend him from his lap and wipe that smug expression off his face. 

“I’ll touch them all you’d like later, so be patient and wait for me to finish my work so there won’t be any distractions. Okay?” Ioder asked, lips curled up in a sickeningly innocent smile. His actions betrayed that sweet smile however, as his fingers gently traced Harry’s chest.

“You say that…but you’re not stopping…” Harry pointed out. 

Ioder’s smile turns into a bit of a smirk. “You don’t sound like you’re complaining….”

“Got nothing to complain about.” Harry smirks back, hands moving to Ioder’s waist. Before they can find purchase however, Ioder pulls back, sauntering off to his desk and leaving Harry slightly miffed.

He does take a small bit of satisfaction in the way Ioder squirms uncomfortably in his seat, face slightly flushed. 

Good, he is affected by it…

Harry settles back onto the couch, heat long forgotten as he tries to calm down his hard-on.

How could he let such a weakness become apparent? And how could Ioder use it against him like that?

And why was he strangely alright with all of it?

Those would have to be answers for another time, but for now…

He settled for simply enjoying the way his scars buzzed from Ioder's lingering touch and the anticipation of things to come once Ioder finished his work.

[deathandmushrooms]

Saw that line about how you dont get any asks so Im here to help

I only followed recently but I love seeing your posts on my dashboard! I really enjoy mushrooms and its great to see your pictures

I was wondering though, do you have any more spore prints? I always find them so cool to examine

Thank you!

Oh thank you so much ❤️🍄❤️

I was waiting to reply to this because I knew I'd be hiking and hoped I'd find something good, but alas.

So here are some of my older prints...

(I upped the contrast on some of these to show the details a bit better.)

Viscid Violet Cort - Cortinarius iodes

False Death Cap - Amanita citrina

American Golden Chanterelle - Cantharellus flavus

Black Trumpet - Craterellus fallax (above and below)

Winter Chanterelle - Craterellus tubaeformis

Painted Suillus - Suillus pictus

Old Man of the Woods - Strobilomyces strobilaceus

Black Tooth - Phellodon niger

More recently (at the suggestion of a commenter) I've started taking prints on glass and they stay much crisper. Taking photos of those ones is a bit of a challenge I am still working on. I am open to suggestions 😉

Admittedly I've been more interested in cooking them lately I guess 😂

[dyrewrites]

Weald and Wen - a peculiar passing

The fire crackled, bright and green, spitting burning embers onto Mitra’s wiggling toes as she stretched beside it. Her story long over, the grief of it yet gripped tight, and the little beastie slept deep but fitful on a log bed.

She had told of Mossheart and nostalgic sap, of how the kindly mushrooms stole their blood while they slept under its spell for longer turns than they could count. And, though she had thanked Mitra for informing her of the half cycle of time Sorrow lasted, it did little to soothe her aches.

But, it was not until Faerai told of how she woke, weak and alone. Of how she found Delgrij and ravaged the limbs of the Mossheart to make their escape that Mitra heard the cracks in her tale. More than heard, she felt them, jagged and sharp. With those cracks laid bare Mitra needed no further reason to hold her promise.

Mossheart were once frequent trading partners, fanatical for all the trinkets her brother draped her in, trinkets laced with her crystal and her blood. Yet, even as they accepted her shiny treasures without need for disguise, she only dealt with them in brighter lights…due to their far more accommodating keepers.

Mitra had no need to ask for more of the little beastie’s tale, or beg for reasons to Delgrij’s sour mood; she understood enough. Her friends had suffered scuffs no comfort could buff and so she insisted that Faerai nap, out in the relative safety of open air.

“I’s takes first guards,” Mitra had assured her, “ans burn any shroomies what’s rolls ways.”

Yet the little beastie’s whimpers suggested no comfort was found in sleep and Mitra flickered at the added sight of her shadow—its yellow eyes stuttering with each breath as it pooled darker on her chest.

As her rage began to boil, however, an outlet presented itself. Sweet and easy it gurgled threats through the tall grass, “Said we would have your sap.”

Ten in all shuffled–a full cluster–towards Faerai and Faerai alone. And Mitra grinned as she flared, burning up the spores that rushed after them.

Then she creaked, “Shiny shroomies digs us out,” and, heating her hands until they all but throbbed, she tittered, “Is alls bright ans burny ans itchin’ for stabs.” 

The Mossheart burbled and wriggled from her lunging fingers and burning kicks, but the largest of them slipped clear away. It made not a sound as it snuck beneath fresh clouds of spores and stabbed its tendrils into the sleeping Faerai.

But the little beastie yelped with the touch, despite the clinging sleep, and Mitra met the Mossheart’s cap with a solid kick. It gurgled and swatted as its sponge singed but the remembered droop in Delgrij’s eyes and stiffness of his shoulders flashed in Mitra’s thoughts and drove her for more. She bit into the Mossheart’s tendril, spilling the drops of blood it had stolen, and then she burned.

Hotter and hotter she burned, until the mushroom’s gurgling scream flowed as a wave through the others. They swarmed her then, reaching their thin limbs to grasp for wings, arms, legs and hair. But Mitra only flared brighter and brighter still, searing every tendril that touched until every Mossheart fled in smoking terror.

“Shroomies is scuffed flecks of dross,” Mitra teased their burnt and flailing tendrils, “nots so craggy without yous keepers!” But her bravado flickered as Faerai stirred and continued to flicker until she settled.

Only then did Mitra settle, did she breathe.

Then a new voice whispered, “Iode so sharp.”

Mitra searched in the grass, in the brush, up in the caps, but no Mossheart wriggled or tittered there.

“Not shroomies,” the voice called again, and its creak flickered Mitra faster, familiar as it was, so much like her own, “alls rolls way, but shiny Iode needs snuff her light or more than little shroomies will bite.”

The pale bulb jerked just beyond the bright of the fire, and Mitra snarled as five more ignited to shine around it, “Gormies.”

The Myr tittered their response, floating closer and she squeaked as the green of the firelight illuminated their surfaces. Dark, jagged and deeply scarred, her little forgeries lacked chunks of stonecover, their crystal gleaming all too dull beneath. Mitra dimmed then, at the ragged holes in some of their sockets, and how all of their cores, every one, smoldered near to black. 

“Iode and shiny friends are too smooth,” The least damaged of them warned, “and alls shimmer too bright in firelight. Must snuff or alls will shatter.”

“Iode?” Mitra scoffed, the reverent term slapping at her concern, “Since whens is Is Iode to craggy Gormies?”

They tittered again, as one, their meager cores brightening as the less damaged explained, “Wen has changed since we last peek our Iode. Oh, how scuffed are dull Gormies for daring to snatch Iode’s shinies and chase from our glow.”

“Dross is we, dross!” a one-armed Myr cracked, tittering as Mitra backed from her reaching hand.

“Iode is so warm and bright and oh so shiny,” creaked another, a single eye flickering in her dark face.

“Let us pile as one,” All six spoke together, circling tighter, “If only for a beat, let us hold some fleck of Iode’s gloss, a single glimmer of shiny glow—so warm, so bright.”

Mitra flared and they gasped. Then they moaned, keeping close to her light, their eyes closed as the intact one said, “We are so cold now in these stalks, beneath these spongy caps,” flitting closer to rest her icy hands on Mitra’s shoulders, she moaned at her heat, “So wet, so dark, so cold. Alls is crooked now. Light shines ins beastie’s paws, our light. It shimmers as shining gems and cracks and carves as we reach for snatch.”

“Those cracked beasties!” The one-eyed Myr added, “They hunt in low lights, chomping for our shine and these beasties are cracked deep. So empty are they now, their shiny eyes so dull, so cold.”

“Cold,” they repeated as one.

A One-armed Myr flickered then, presenting her fresh stump, the crystal still jagged and bleeding, “Their edges are sharp, teeth gleaming but bellies ever empty.”

Mitra flicked her eyes toward her beastie and found her and her shadow yet sleeping, fitful but undisturbed. Then, turning full around, sure to latch her eyes on each of the Myr, she dropped out of their floating circle and onto her rock.

The Myr followed, alighting on the moist moss around her and Mitra asked them, “How beasties chomp Gormies? Teeth too thin to breaks surface...”

“Theys holds tools!” A Myr with a missing leg cracked.

“Shh!” Mitra hissed, waving her voice down and motioning to her own beastie. 

“Beasties hold craggy weapons...and sharp tricks. Play with thoughts then stab and crack and snatch our cores for lamps,” the intact Myr explained and then she eyed Faerai, “Why Iode have beastie?”

Cutting her off as she made to poke the little beastie, Mitra pushed the intact Myr back toward the rock and said, “This beastie is me friend, nots cracked.” Then she sighed and motioned for the Myr to settle their dull flickers, “Is holds treats. Shiny treats Is share with Gormies ifs yous rolls way from me beastie.”

They creaked and bobbed, whispering careful and quiet to one another, but then one by one they nodded.

And Mitra’s throbbing core settled with each one of those nods before she guided them back to the rock.

The sight of the glittering black treats sent flashes through every core that spied them, burning them ever brighter as the crystal flecks cracked between their teeth and burnt up in their cores.

But the intact Myr had warnings still to share.

Around spilled bites she creaked, “Treats is shiny, but fire too bright. Snuffs now or Iode and friends peeks for selfs how cold and sharp beasties are.” 

Mitra sighed but motioned for the other Myr to join her as she dug handfuls of moss and dirt and tossed them onto the flames. Then, with the fire doused, the Myr crunched the last of their shared meal and huddled around their Iode in the center of the scorched pile of stalks and moss.

And despite the strangeness of their compassion, their stone burned too sweet on Mitra’s surface and she nuzzled closer, tighter. She soaked up the scratches and tinks of rock and crystal and soon the Myr’s warning of the Auru, the pain of the past turns, even the dread of what surely waited for them on the Rim melted.

[quickpaint]

Commissions (OPEN)

So I’m tentatively opening commissions to try and make a little bit of money!

Style 1: Colored Sketches

These will be fully colored with light shading and a plain color background of your choice. (No headshot examples currently, sorry, but will be shoulders up!)

I will only draw human(iods), and DuckTales 2017 style ducks (only ducks! No anthros, sorry about that, I’m no good at anything other than ducks but if you really want me to, you can try and bribe me but the result probably won’t be great.) Headshots: $10-15~ (depending on amount of detail)

Waist-up: $25-35~ (depending on amount of detail)

Turn around time will be a week to 3 weeks for this style, but hopefully quicker than that! The initial sketch will be sent before coloring starts, so please request changes then. Any major changes after coloring is finished will be charged. The first couple of minor changes won’t be charged until the third request.

*extra characters will be an extra 50% charge (only available for waist-up)

Style 2: That weird thing I do with the watercolor brushes

(check my art tag for other examples of this style, I don’t want to make this post too looong)

Order this style only if you really hate me

I don’t like how humans turn out in this style, so this will be an option only for ducks for now. I’m also only offering waist ups for this, but may offer icons in the style in the future if commissions work out.

Waist-up: $40-55 (depending on detail, 50% charge for extra character)

Will come with a simple, single color, background like the above example, but if you really bribe me I can do a more detailed background. These take awhile so turn around time will be a couple weeks to a month. A work in progress sketch will be sent before I start doing the colors, so any changes MUST be requested then as it’s hard to make any major changes in art of this style.

I will draw: human(iod)s, ducks, mild blood, ocs, fanart (only of series I’m familiar with), ask if you’re unsure if I will draw certain things

I will not do: NSFW, gore, etc.

I’ll only be opening 3 slots (two for sketch, one for watercolor) for now as I don’t want to get overwhelmed, private message me with picture references (I will not draw a character from description only), pose/expression, and any other specific details, and once details are worked out I will require a paypal email to send an invoice before I get started.

[crimsonpublishersobesityjourna]

Estimated Prevalence of Advanced Hepatic Fibrosis by Elastography in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes-Crimson Publishers

Estimated Prevalence of Advanced Hepatic Fibrosis by Elastography in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes by Yoshio Sumida in Intervention in Obesity & Diabetes

Nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD) is the most common chronic liver disease. The grade of hepatic fibrosis is known to be closely associated with over-all or liver-related mortality in NAFLD. In order to detect early stage of hepatocellular carcinoma (HCC), it is essential to identify advanced hepatic fibrosis in NAFLD. To avoid invasive liver biopsies, several modalities have developed for evaluating hepatic fibrosis, including elastography (FibroScan and magnetic resonance elastography) and noninvasive tests (NITs) such as fibrosis-4 index and NAFLD fibrosis score. Patients with type 2 diabetes is twice at higher risk for incident HCC compared to the non-diabetic population. Although type 2 diabetes is also associated with fibrosis progression of NAFLD, the precise prevalence of advanced hepatic fibrosis in type 2 diabetes remains unknown. To detect or prevent the development of HCC in type 2 diabetes, mining patients with advanced fibrosis (stage 3/4) is important. It is estimated that approximately 17% of patients with type 2 diabetes receiving liver biopsies had advanced fibrosis. Population-based data are essential because of excluding selection bias. In this review, we review estimated prevalence of advanced hepatic fibrosis in patients with type 2 diabetes by using non-invasive elastography. 

For more Open access journals in Crimson Publishers, please click on the link: https://crimsonpublishers.com/

For more articles in Journal of  Diabetes and Obesity, please click on below link: https://crimsonpublishers.com/iod/

Follow On Linkedin : https://linkedin.com/in/chyler-henley-ba9623175

Follow On Medium : https://medium.com/crimson-publishers/crimson-publishers-journals-f29e22da8f5c

Please click on high impact journals in Crimson Publishers

[qhostqizmo]

This is home

“What are you doing?”

Amon smiled at her, beckoning with curled fingers. “It’s alright, just give me your hand.”

A fluttery feeling lifted in Essätha’s chest, making her feel weightless and floating; gliding on air more than walking as she stepped closer to take his hand. His rough hand was gentle curling around hers. Careful. His touch was considerate, as though she were as delicate as the rows of flowers bordering sidewalks and sprouting up wildly against the pavement. Briarton looked more colorful than she remembered it being the first time they’d seen it, but perhaps they had shed into their own new rays, too.

Laughter bubbling and babbled up from her like a fountain as her nobleman led her in closer. Closer. Closer. His mouth brushed the shell of her ear and he hummed a few notes of some indescribable song the sorceress’ was sure she’d heard before. Her shy giggles increased, feeling the heat of his palm from his other hand skim across her back like wildfire.

“You never cease to surprise me,” she laughed, airy and light.

“And you never cease to amaze me,” countered her nobleman, stepping back and giving her the spotlight to twirl gallantly before him.

Hand clasped tighter in hand, she leaped eagerly back towards him, right into his embrace. They exhaled together so loudly; so relieved and so free. She never wanted the moment to end. Sunshine above, fresh air, the sound of his lungs expanding below her ear, and his heartbeat quickening as she smothered her face into his collarbone. Her fingers curled into the back of his cloak. This was the feeling she’d been missing all her life, and even now it had so many names to it and yet none of them were quite as fulfilling as simply his name.

She finally pulled her face up from his chest after a long moment to press her lips to his cheek. His eyes sparkled as he peered down at her, grinning open and wild.

“Why the showmanship?”

Furrowing his brow, Amon held her at arm’s length with a crooked smile. “Why should I not be so eager to show off my fiance?”

Her cheeks felt warm. “Touche.”

“This is the start of our lives together,” he continued hoarsely; a crack wedging its way into his voice. His arms slid from around her, fingers trailing her arms until he found hers again. The dark ocean of his eyes rested upon their joined hands as he blinked a few times, trying to maintain his complexion.

“Together,” he repeated more gruffly, and thick.

The raw emotion sliding through the tones of his voice made her eyes prickle and burn. Essätha cleared her throat, murmuring quietly, “I know.”

Amon let go of one of her hands swiftly and abruptly, to sweep it in a grand gesture upward and outward. His palm pointed up as he exclaimed proudly towards the manor, but his eyes upon her, “And this is all yours.”

“… Mine?”

“Yours,” he repeated breathlessly.

Slowly, she allowed her gaze to pan from the Illiad estate back to her fiance’s gaze. His eyes were bright and waiting eagerly.

With a softened smile, Essie cooed to him sweetly. She reached up with her free hand, brushing his mopey black hair back and out of his eyes. As her hand moved to retreat he reached for her, sighing in heavenly bliss to rest his cheek to her palm. The heat in her face intensified, and Amon tenderly kissed her knuckles before loosening his grip to free her.

She wasn’t mistaken, his face, too, appeared flush. The sparkle that glittered in his gaze was reflected only in the delight of her own.

Still…

The Yuan-Ti observed the structure once more. A frown pulled at the corners of her lips.

“… Essie?”

“It’s a very lovely building,” she informed him, her regard traveling back to his. He stared right back at her, a daunting worry creeping up in his expression.

Smiling tenderly, Essätha placed her hand upon his breast; directly over where the steady sound of his pulse greeted her. Steady only briefly however, as it immediately jumped to meet her touch. She could feel as well as hear the catch of air in his throat. His longing and devotion were naked upon his face. He looked at her as though she were his entire world. It made her eyes mist over once more, feeling a pang of guilt for causing him unease, even if briefly.

Her fingertips curled into the fabric of his jerkin. “This is mine,” she whispered, emphasizing her words with a caress of her palm over his heart. She captured his awed gaze, tilting her head with an adoring smile as she vowed, “For the rest of our days, this is all I shall I ever ask of you.”

The tears in her eyes welled up, and her lip wobbled to see her nobleman struggle to find the words, or to catch his breath. He finally inhaled; and the sound was wobbly, and wheezing.

“Always, Essie,” he swore; weak and emotional and lovingly tender. He lured her in closer where their hands were still joined, though she needed no encouragement. His gravity was enough. Their love was enough to always bring here right back where she belonged, right where she wanted to be, in his arms.

Lord Amon embraced her, his hand sneaking up to cup the back of her head. She only had a moment to catch her breath, the anticipation like a star building up to going supernova.

“I am all yours.”

“And I am yours.”

She barely uttered her her hush reply, and he gave her the most dazzling soft kiss. His whiskers rubbed against her chin, and she grabbed at him wherever her hands could latch on. Something so perfect and dreamy shouldn’t be real, and yet it was happening. Here she was, folded up and held so achingly tight to the man she respected and admired and treasured with all her being. It felt like being welcomed home; his warming lips, his protective arms, the shivers that seemed to cascade down them both.

Now she knew the glory of heaven. The exalted angels wept with jealousy, for this unknown virtue was all hers.

And though she knew there would be more smooches and cuddles to come, the parting left a bittersweet yearning as it always did. She would not argue if she had to spend the entirety of existence melted in his grasp. There she’d know she’d always fit; a place just for her. A sanctuary, a home; lost with someone she trusted and someone she knew would never let her down.

“I love you, Amon.”

Freedom. She felt so alive to say those words. It was all she could do to keep from saying it over and over again, forever. Those were the only words her vocabulary really needed.

“I love you too, Essie,” he purred, giving her a peck on the corner of her lips once again. “Very much.”

Keep kissing me and you’re going to be loving me in front of the fucking manor for all to see, Essätha thought sinfully, tilting her head as he hovered, lingering, and finally came in for another hungry kiss.

Lucky for them both, her proper good man of a husband was able to pull himself away, dignified but a bit flush. His grin was almost as radiant as the sun was bright. She had to laugh at him, gently rubbing the pad of her thumb along his glistening lower lip, which he affectionately smooched. Maybe he too couldn’t quite get enough of her; an echo to her own longing to be buried beneath his ribcage.

“Come, let me give you the tour.”

“M’lord,” she protested, allowing him to pull her along as he made haste eagerly for the door. “You do recall I’ve been inside before, numerous time-”

“But never as my fiance!” His voice was giddy exclaiming this. She could deny him nothing, her heartbeat racing and a slap-happy smile etched on her face as he pushed open the door to lead her inside.

As the doors creaked open on hinges in need of oiling, her nobleman gestured grandly once more; showcasing the expansive lobby. “The foyer, my lady.”

“Exquisite,” she replied proudly, beaming up at him. Her eyes could look no where else. He looked absolutely dashing. A charming smile, in his element. A quirky smile, with the sort of glee that enraptured her every sense and iode of mental capacity. There was nothing else; no one else in the world when he was this happy. Nothing else existed but him.

He was still grinning at her, almost panting now as he held her hand, and ran.

Her feet raced after his, with peels of laughter echoing through the quiet mansion. It was the first breath of life it’d felt in decades, but no one would have guessed. It was like it had always been there, waiting.

Chasing each other in spiraling-footsteps and patterns more like dancing a waltz around the room then anything, Amon waved a hand eagerly to each new thing they passed: “And here is your window, to gaze out and enjoy the garden!”

“Enchanting!”

“And your sitting room, and your sofa, and your stairwell.”

“Brilliant,” Essie chimed, griping firmly to his hand. “All the more spaces of ours to share.”

Amon was beaming now as he lead her up the stairs. Their feet caught, stumbling a bit and giggle-snorting through apologies as they fumbled up the last few sets. The euphoria negated the bad memories residing in the shadows of the residence. As he pulled her past the railing, he ushered her over to display the shelves of the library. Areas where he once had hidden himself from others, no longer prison bars as he picked up the closest novel for her to see.

“We may have to clear out some space for more bookstands,” he confessed, “but here’s some novels and material for you to study.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy each and every one,” she gushed, her eyes still laid upon his.

He tried to hand it to her, but she sat it aside as soon as it was in her grasp. There was anxiety written beneath his merriment, and she was beginning to see fractures of it here and there.

She cradled his face in her hand, and kissed him feverishly.

They broke away gradually, gasping. Drawing for air deep in his lungs, Amon rasped, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” she verified warmly, grazing his cheekbones and carding her fingers through his locks. “I like the manor plenty.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s going to need to be cleaned up and given some new curtains; I noticed some moths had gotten after some of them while we were away, but it’s lovely. I swear.”

With a heavy sigh, Amon’s shoulders sagged, and he pulled her in closer to rest his chin on top of her head. She swayed with him, rocking to and fro as he rubbed the lengths of her arms.

“I want it to feel… Like a place you can be happy.”

“I am happy,” she muffled against his shoulder, nuzzling her face against him. “I’m happy because I am here with you.”

He squeezed her once more, tightly to his chest, before letting go. Her words reinvigorated him; the brilliant twinkle in his gaze, and he took her hand again, leading her along.

“And I am happy to share it all with you.”

Giggling, she followed his lead as he turned, their footsteps echoing against the masonry as they moved down the joining hallway. They moved past the guest chambers with no grand display, and directly towards the master suite.

“The sitting room,” Amon noted, walking slower into this room; giving her time to absorb it.

Regardless, she kept her gaze on him, measuring his reactions to the building; and remaining achored to him. His joy, his enthusiasm, his being was safety; and she couldn’t take her gaze away from it all. Not for a second.

Chest heaving a bit from their earlier sprint, her nobleman pulled anxiously at the collar of his jerkin.

“Our sitting room,” she finally corrected him, reaching out to place her hand over his heart once more.

He took both her hands, this time, staring down at her fondly. “I love you, Essie.”

“I know you do, and I love you too.”

He licked his lips nervously. “I hope it… The manor that it, I hope it is. Adequate enough for-”

“The estate is fine, m’lord,” she reassured him once more. “Is this really about the estate-”

He nodded mutely.

She sighed, stepping closer. He stepped backwards. She stepped forward again, an unconscious gesture.

“I do not need anything else but this-” she reminded him, holding up their linked fingers.

“I just want to give you something you can be proud of something you… deserve,” he mumbled lamely.

The sorceress’ arched a brow. “And you think I would not be proud to live under the same roof as my beloved future husband?”

Amon’s face reddened. “No it’s not that it’s-” he swallowed, pulling her along; through the door left open directly into the bedroom. His eyes skirted away, and back to her as he vented regretfully, “It’s an old building it… has its history. It is not very fine nor elegant; it is not very warm, not even in summer, and it’s…”

He trailed off solemly, stopping his retreat; or his unconscious guiding. Essie wormed one hand free, reaching up to touch the side of his face.

“I understand there is a lot of old wounds here,” she spoke carefully, “But we can make new memories. This is our home, now. I like it; I think it has character. We could build on that.”

Some sense of comfort seemed to wash over his face, and take with it the tension building in the creases on his features. He stepped closer, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

“Where has your optimism and radiance been all my life?” he whispered in her hair, hands gliding down her back.

“Mmm… waiting for you,” she taunted, linking her arms behind his neck as they rocked from side to side.

Amon rested his cheek on top of her head silently. His fingers reached up, plucking one hair pin out of her bun and then the other. She pulled back with confusion as he untied her ribbon, placing all of these on the bedside nightstand just within his arm’s reach.

“What are you doing?” she repeated for the second time today.

“Working on those new memories,” the Briarton Protector responded; quiet and husky. His eyes had a fire in them as they settled on hers once more; burning in her. “Also thinking of new ways to warm the interior…”

Humming as her nobleman caressed his hands against her hips, Essätha swayed from side to side, her eyes half-closed. He dug his fingers firmly into her sides and hoisted her up, where she instinctively wound her legs around his waist.

“Mine or the manors?” she teased, tilting her head to the side as his mouth grazed her throat. She moaned softly as he kissed her pulse, a hand yanking her shirt free of her trousers to sneak up her lower back.

“Both; I’m a multitasker.”

“Fantastic,” she sighed, relaxing as she was sat upon the edge of the king-sized bed. Amon pushed her forward, and she stretched out on her back with a content lilt in her quivering gasp. She shimmied against the bedsheets, her gaze hooded and hair spilled out in curls and waves.

Amon met her gaze, wide-eyed and short of breath.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Essie sang, reaching up to grab the fur-lined collar of his mantle, and drag him down.

He sank into her embrace, groaning heavily and kissing her like his heart would give out if he stopped.

She had no doubts; the manor would never give her chills, regardless of Amon’s warning. Not when her home was made of comfort and warmth, just for her.