#like blocking out all those shadow shapes has done so much

[lemon-wedges]

...

[pascalcampion]

Tom Fluharty. My wife had a good point. I have been doing those posts about artist, but they are all dead. She was wondering why I don’t do any living artists, especially since I admire SO many of them. Good point, as usual.

This is Tom. Tom is an artist I’ve admired for years, until one day, at comic con, he jumped out from somewhere, landed in front of me, asked me if I was who I was and started showering me with complements so vigorously that I thought I was being pranked. Since then I've sort of idolized him, so my review might be a bit biased. Not sure what Tom eats for Breakfast but he has the energy of a tiger. Which explains his prodigious catalog of work and the energy emanating from each one of his pieces. Although these are 2D images, they feel sculpted in 3D. Each mark seems to cut away at an invisible block of marble to reveal a form that moves in space, in relation to what is around it. A life trapped in blue on the white amber of the paper Because Tom probably thought this was not impressive enough, his work, from what I understand, is done with colored pencils. Yes, the same tools we used as kids to draw flowers and houses in the prairies for our moms. When I experience his work, I experience power. The figures don’t have to be in motion to feel heavy, alive, dangerous even. Sharp angles, bold shapes, unapologetic distortions. The hands!! Look at these hands. I can feel the knuckles, I want to shake them and I wonder if MY hand would get crushed. There is a madcap feeling about his work. Shapes that shouldn’t move a certain way all of a sudden MOVE that way. It's a little bit like being a child and wanting to draw a certain way, and Tom is THAT way. There is depth, so much depth. Not simply in the way he composes his images, the deep shadows when he uses them, but Tom goes from the burlesque to the deep, almost sorrowful. Empathy and love is present in every single one of his pieces. Whether they be Cowboys, sharks, dogs are Mike Tyson. A love for is craft, and, from what I know of the person, a profound love of life.

This is his Instagram https://www.instagram.com/thomasfluharty/?hl=en

[spacecolonie]

i adore your paintings so muchhh would you happen to have any other tips or tutorials for your process? anything from thumbnailing all the way to final render

Thank you 😭♥ I appreciate that a lot!! To start with I've got my advice tag (both new and veeery old stuff lol), & my youtube has a couple of speedpaints on it, one with commentary including process, brushes etc

In terms of general stuff about how I approach painting, I tend to tailor the method to the desired outcome. I talk about it more in depth on this post here, I also link to some references & tutorials that I really enjoy/recommend!

Besides that though, I guess I can do a little walkthrough of the Whisper & Tangle painting I uploaded a few months ago, since I tried something new with it that I pseudo integrated into my workflow & could be fun to talk about? 🤔

SO yes, I do always thumbnail when I'm doing a bigger painting, and they're definitely not pretty LOL. I usually use the colour fill lasso just to block in basic shapes and values with a gradient map slapped on the top -- I ended up swapping the values around in the end because it let me use the fireflies as the sole light source, making it more character focused! Then it's the usual process of resketching it all & flatting in the base colours (I also added Whisper's wisps hehe), then adding shading:

This is how I usually approach it, w/ all the shading layers clipped to the original flats to preserve editing. Multiply, screen & overlay are the most common layer modes I use while doing this, and if I'm ever struggling I'll sometimes add a gradient map too in order to unify awkward colours etc. The new thing I tried for this painting was doing what's often nicknamed as a 'clown pass' -- which is using hard edged shapes to create an easily-accessible selection mask for each part:

It looks Super funny but I actually found it very helpful, and I ended up using it to select & cut out all of their body parts onto seperate layers, which were then alpha locked. It meant I could go ham w/ large or textured brushes, smudges etc without worrying about losing those edges, or accidentally over-rendering and screwing up the anatomy in the process!!

I've kept doing something similar since, though it's a bit more dialed back; mainly using the lasso select to chop it up directly and preserve specific/necessary edges, grouping up similar body parts on a single layer etc.

After doing all that, I sat down and started rendering. The background was all blocked in & detailed with a hard round brush and these amazing brushes from Devin Elle Kurtz. There isn't anything super insightful that I think I could type on how I render, but I do have that speedpaint I mentioned earlier that'll probably shed more light. It's just a lot of eyedropping & painting, rinse and repeat

When rendering is done I usually add a concoction of adjustment layers, as well as an overlay w/ a noise texture on it. I also sharpen it all after doing so! These are the ones that I ended up adding for this painting:

The dupe & blur is a fun thing that doesn't always work, but it looks super neat when the painting itself calls for it, especially when paired w/ that noise texture. It can make stuff look like an old/low quality photograph or recording -- here's another example w/ a shadow and amy doodle I posted a few months ago:

That's about it for this painting, the majority of the time spent on it was honestly me rendering those damn leaves 🥲 Very tedious but worth it & it was a really good learning experience. I'm not sure if any of this will prove useful but thank you so much for sending in the ask, & if you (or anyone else reading this) wants a similar breakdown for a different painting of mine, please do let me know and I'll try my best to do one!! 🥺💞

[the-forests-blessing]

Chapter 10

Tiny orange leaves scatter all over the forest floor. Slim white trunks with black stripes of all shapes and sizes belong to the trees from which these leaves fall. Lukas can recognize the birch leaves easily, but he’s not in the mood to get excited about their presence, not when he’s just been brought to the attention of what horrific atrocities the hunters back in BeaconTown have done to this ancient woodland. 

     His anger, which had once boiled red hot, has now settled into a low simmer, his upset expression aimed in the direction of the forest floor he walks upon. He walks fast and focused, meanwhile the heavy and slow steps of the shadow that thrives here somehow manages to keep up with him. 

     “I can’t believe this,” Lukas groans again, reaching a hand up to hold his forehead as he continues to envision the scene. “I.. can’t believe this.” He knew those hunters were up to no good just from looks and suspicious behavior alone, but this is… “This is unbelievable!” He finally stops, turning on the Admin. The deity stops as well, keeping a comfortable distance between himself and the distraught blond. 

     “How? How can they be so careless?” Lukas asks the silent god, knowing he’s not going to get a response. “To destroy such a large space of forest. Do they have no idea how much damage they’ve caused!?” He crosses his arms over his muddy frontside, then scoffs as he looks away. “Trying to reach you? Could it be..” The ecologist stiffens, his expression souring at a horrid thought. “Are they trying to push you out so they can deforest? Use the land for resources?” Lukas goes silent again, taking a moment to think about it, then begins to pace whilst his mind runs rampant with ideas. 

     “Wait no.. No that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would they burn down those parts of the forest if they could just cut down the trees and replant them if they were in need of resources?” He sighs, holding himself with his arms. “I don’t understand..” 

     The Admin simply watches him, silent and unmoving. Lukas glances up at him, then away, biting the inside of his cheek as an idea takes form.. One he takes a moment to consider before taking his chances. “Okay, I–” he reaches into his satchel and grabs his journal and quill, then closes it up and begins to make an approach towards the deity, too distracted opening his journal to notice the Admin putting his guard up. “I need your help understanding this, so I was thinking maybe we could try this again? You know, the writing thing. You could just write down what hap-!”

     A sudden chill overwhelms him and his moving feet are planted firmly into the ground, rooting him to his spot. “-ened…” He looks up from his feet, watching the Admin’s tired expression strengthen into his tempered scowl, the god glaring him down as he himself chooses to close the distance and, to Lukas’ shock, yank the journal and quill from his hands. 

     The Admin retreats a few blocks back, then relents. Lukas releases a soft gasp as he becomes mobile once more, taking in a deep gulp of air after realizing he’d been holding his breath. Before he could even think to move, the deity holds out one large blue hand, gesturing ‘stop’, so Lukas does just that. He’s deeply enthralled as he watches the Admin turn his attention back and assess the journal with his own hands, even opening it and flipping through pages. Lukas’ heart hammers in his chest like an out of control piston, watching the man stop to examine freshly written passages, then finally come to a full stop and lift his quill. 

     Admin examines the quill as well and immediately Lukas feels like a fool for not offering him his inkwell. He’s about to open his mouth to let him know he’ll retrieve it for him, but the quill descending upon one of the journal's pages and the sound of its tapping assists in Lukas shutting his mouth once again. He watches the deity’s face.. How focused and stern he looks as he scowls into the book's pages. Lukas’ heart snags in his chest when the Admin snaps his gaze to him without moving, making the blond tense and look away.

    He takes to looking at the new surroundings. Taking in all the slim birch trees and how scrawny they look in comparison to the evergreens that tower over them, yet their bright orange and yellows look heavenly over the backdrop of dark greens and blues. Lukas watches a shivering leaf pluck itself from one of the birch's thin limbs, signaling the nearing of summer's end. The scribbling draws on for a bit longer than he expected, feeling antsy until the sound of the journal snapping shut just about makes Lukas shudder in anticipation for what’s been written. 

     …Only to find that pressure once again keeping his feet pinned to the ground as the deity approaches. The book is then promptly shoved back into Lukas’ hands, causing the blond to emit a soft sound of surprise and look up. His breath catches as he makes eye contact this close with the Admin. Just like back in the field, his own teal eyes gaze deep into glowing turquoise, finding the tiny white pupils boring into him. 

     The deity stares back for only a moment before his scarred nose scrunches up and his frown deepens in a look of disgust, then he continues walking past Lukas… Keeping the author pinned down like a tack in the earth until he’s a good distance away. Then he relents. 

     Lukas doesn’t wait a second. He practically throws his journal open and starts flipping the pages hurriedly, all until he finds one near the middle with ink spots that he most definitely did not create. He holds the journal open and with his held breath, reads:

      NO.

     “Wha-?” Lukas’ jaw drops, his expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance… then skepticism. The handwriting is… horrendous for what is only two single letters. The lines are disconnected and sloppy, even the O looks wobbly and deformed. He's at a momentary loss for words, looking almost offended at the response given. Not much of a writer, he assumes. He quickly picks himself up and hurries back towards the deity, making quite the ruckus almost tripping over some twisted tree roots on the way. 

     “W-wait! Admin, please!” Lukas pleads, catching up with the god, getting only a few feet away from the man’s mossy pelt before a heavy stomp and the deity turns on him. Lukas freezes in place as the Admin turns only his torso and lowers just a bit to emit a deep, guttural, and distorted growl. Like the ill-fated growl of an infuriated Ender Dragon. His dark nose scrunching up and his scarred lip curling slightly. The intimidating, downright creepy noise goes straight through the author’s core, causing what feels like ice to prick at his skin.  

     They hold eye contact and a charged silence comes between; the Admin asserting his displeasure for Lukas’ insistent disregard for more information and Lukas… His teal eyes widened, the sound made every hair on his body stand on end with chills.  He’s completely speechless while he watches the Admin slowly straighten his broad posture and his massive form expanding as he draws in a deep breath, then expels a long, heavy sigh. He then turns, leaving Lukas stunned and.. Intrigued. 

     “S-so you do have some kind of voice,” Lukas draws out in an almost winded, yet quiet tone. The author’s heart pounds in his chest after that moment. He quickly perks up and once again begins following the deity. Again, coming a bit too close and the Admin stamps a heavy foot down and turns sharply, dragging Lukas back away a couple feet. The author is stunned into silence watching the leaves and dirt get disturbed as he’s pulled along by an invisible force grabbing at the back of his adventure gear. Once again, he’s dropped about a seven blocks distance away. Awfully generous unbeknownst to Lukas. 

     The Admin straightens up again with a harrowing scowl, and with a deep huff, turns and begins walking away. Lukas doesn’t move immediately this time around, instead he draws in a soft breath and sighs, watching him go. Okay.. he’s not a fan of close contact. Got it. Lukas rubs his arm nervously, then picks his feet up to follow, allowing the distance between them both to increase, giving the bad-tempered god his space. But didn’t he put his hand on my shoulder? Lukas recalls the action, remembering how… large the palm of the Admin felt upon his shoulder.

      Maybe it’s a control thing… Lukas ponders, taking the actions into thoughtful regard. So far, the Admin always seems tense and wary of him whenever it's Lukas that’s moving, especially when he steps closer, at least from what he’s noticed. His demeanor seems calmer whenever Lukas is being held down by his powers, or even when he was being held up in that net trap. Must not be a fan of letting people close, the author concludes. Lukas can both understand and respect that. 

      From now on, I’ll keep my distance… And stop prying for information. If that’s what will help him trust me more.

     “Hmm..” Lukas hums, thinking of that with a glance down at his watch. The sundial is descending now with the shadow of nightfall ticking closer. “A-Admin?” Lukas calls out, stopping where he stands. The Admin, quite a distance ahead, stops and turns just his head slightly. From this distance, the most of what Lukas can see among the mix of birch and conifers is the deity’s shadowy build, as well as the glow of his eye looking back at him. “I was wondering if you could please teleport me home? And Dewey too, please. I’m worried about him..” 

     The Admin’s glare narrows on him, and before the inevitable happens, the blond continues with a stutter. “A-and I promise I won’t say anything about this to anyone. I respect your wishes and.. You can trust me.” Lukas speaks with his heart on his sleeve full of honesty. Whether the Admin believes him or not, he isn’t sure. A deafening silence fills the air and, before he knows it, he’s witnessing a single short nod from the man, then his vision turns white.

      In the blink of an eye, Lukas is standing out at the entrance of the forest and in front of him, only a field away, lies BeaconTown in all its unholy glory. He stands though.. no stumble or fall to recover from. It seems the Admin teleported him with that in mind this time, Lukas can only hope. 

     Teleportation.. That's so amazing, our author turns and gazes back into the tree line, wondering how on earth he does it. A flash of white brightens next to him, catching the human off guard and poof! 

      “Dewey!” Lukas exclaims with a relieved tone. The ocelot whips his head around, completely owl-eyed and covered in dried mud.. The writer leans down, grabbing his companion and pulling him into an affectionate hug. “Aw geez..” Lukas eases his hug, looking down at the jungle cat's filthy pelt. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, buddy..” He continues to hold Dewey while he stands, exiting the shadow of the tree line and entering the sunlit field. 

     Dewey, still stunned at what just happened, stays ruffled and alert all the way back to the BeacInn. Once there, Lukas changes out of his dirty adventure clothes and into something more casual, his turtleneck and dark jeans. Dewey on the other hand has collapsed with exhaustion on the bed. After Lukas gave him a warm bath in the tub, he can hardly keep his eyes open long enough to feel Lukas pet his head and announce he's going out for a while. The ocelot merely groans, flicking the tip of his tail with defeat before descending into slumber.

     Exiting the BeacInn, Lukas is greeted with streets dimly lit by the setting sun. Golden hour, as some would call it. The man turns his head towards the clouds, noticing the faint stars of twilight beginning to twinkle their way into the sky. 

      I wonder what he's doing right now… Lukas’ mind returns to the Admin and everything that happened today. From that energetic chase following Dewey and the Allay, all the way to getting caught in that net trap. Lukas felt he was being watched. 

     The blond sighs out, tired and more than ready for bed, but he's got just one thing he wants to do. He enters Beacon’s streets walking casually, all while keeping an eye out for any of those damned hunters. Especially with that snake, Aiden, skulking around . Lukas scowls at the thought of that pathetic pale face and those green eyes full of hate. He’s never met someone so hostile in his life, and Lukas has had his fair share of run-ins with some nasty folk while he traveled. 

      Knock knock knock

      Lukas shoves his hands into his pockets and looks around while he waits. Thankfully the town seemed just as desolate as usual, so there was nothing to keep Lukas from getting to his destination on time. 

     The sound of steps coming to the door alerts Lukas to straighten up and look towards the door. When the door opens, he finds on the other side of it is a disheveled looking Radar, dressed in a yellow cardigan sweater and some dark pants. Radar looks taken aback by Lukas’ appearance on the other side, the scholar gawking with surprise, then smiling wide. “Lukas!” He greets cheerfully.

     “Uhh.. Hi,” a small awkward wave and suddenly the door is being held wide open in invitation. 

     “I’m so glad you’re here! Come on in!” Radar chirps and beckons the author with a waving hand. 

     “Oh.. Wait, you're glad?” Lukas steps in, once again taking in his surroundings, looking anywhere but at Radar as he eases out of the awkwardness. 

     “Yeah! I was hoping to see you again soon,” Radar closes the door softly, then hurries over to the couch where Nell sits criss-crossed holding what looks to be a slimeball. 

     “Sup, Lukas?” Nell asks. “What brings you into casa de Nelldar.” She squints, looking up at the ceiling as if confused by her own words. “Or would it be Radell?” 

     “Uhh.. Well to answer your ‘sup’ ,” Lukas clasps his hands together and points at the two friends sitting side by side on the couch. “I came over because.. well… I have more questions.” That made Radar and Nell both glance at each other with uncertain looks. Lukas quickly gestures for them to calm whatever comes to mind. “Okay hold on, I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s not Admin related.” Radar sighs audibly with relief while Nell just quirks a curious brow. “It’s about the New Order..” 

     Immediately Radar sucks in another sharp breath and Lukas has to restrain the urge to roll his eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s another ‘classified information’ kind of deal.” 

     “Well..” Nell starts, squeezing her slimeball and tossing it to her other hand. “It’s not classified , but it’s not something we BeaconTowner’s really talk about anymore either.” 

     “Is that so..?” Lukas draws out with a lower, skeptical tone. “Mind if I sit?” 

     “No.. go ahead,” Radar says, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. 

     “Because I was told the Order basically fell apart. Is that true?” Lukas asks as he settles down into his seat.

     “Where did you hear that from?” Radar asks in return.

     “Petra told me, but she didn’t tell me why. The girl at the BeacInn told me it was because a team member died?” The author sits forward a little, eyeing two with attentive focus. 

     “P-Petra?” Radar stutters, looking rather shocked at the mention of her name. Lukas squints at the reaction but nods. “She actually said that to you?” 

     “Yeah, the other day. I had a run in with that Aiden guy,” that name seems to draw out a reaction from the two as well, both wincing at the mention of the aggressive hunter. “He saw me coming back from the forest and told me he was going to go tell the mayor. Next thing I know, morning comes and there’s these two hunters banging on my door. They escorted me up to that.. Tower thingy.. And brought me into her office. The whole interaction felt kind of weird, but she gave me permission to enter the forest from now on, as well as–” 

     “Woahwoahwoahwoah–” Radar motions with his hands for Lukas to stop. He then looks back at the blond, looking and sounding offended. “She gave you permission to go out there? That’s.. That’s unheard of!” Radar scoffs, crossing his arms. “What else did she say?”

     “Uhm, that if I were to travel too far in, I basically wouldn’t make it out alive. That, and she kind of said if I were to trespass deeper into that part of the woods, that she’d have to take a course of action she really doesn’t want to have to do.. Whatever that means.” Lukas shrugs. 

     “I don’t believe it..” Radar looks distraught where he sits, at quite the loss with this newfound information.

     “Yeah well, anyways, I asked why there weren't any history books here in town- no answer, but then I also asked what happened to the heroes that used to live here. I mean seriously, the town was built off of the foundation of the Witherstorm’s destruction. And that’s another thing, how are there heroes who supposedly saved the world, yet no books on them? It’s all just rumors. Sounds pretty suspicious if you ask me.” 

     Nell keeps her mouth shut during this conversation. She seems to be spacing out while she squeezes the slimeball, looking off into the direction of elsewhere within the small home. Radar uncrosses his arms by now and is leaned forward, keeping his cheek held in one hand while he gazes down at the floor and listens. When Lukas finishes speaking, it’s Radar’s turn to sigh.

     “They aren’t rumors , I swear it. It’s just that he could never find– we – could never find a person fit to tell the tales of the New Order. Everyone in BeaconTown was a builder, fighter, miner, or some other kind of creative. We never found any writers who could put enough passion from.. From his mouth onto the pages of paper, so nothing was ever published.” Radar shakes his head. “We really tried.”

     Lukas quirks a brow. “ We?” He repeats… “Who’s we and… who’s he?”  

     The unmistakable tap of rain hits the wooden roof, making each individual look up from where they sit. The tapping gets faster and harder as the seconds pass. Radar drops his gaze, lacing his fingers together. He looks focused in thought, then nods a few times before he finally stands and crosses his arms, looking elsewhere but the blond eyeing him. 

     “The New Order leader..” Radar says, then takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. “I was his intern.” 

     “You?” Lukas utters out, genuinely surprised to hear it. 

     “Yeah..” Radar nods. “A long time ago.” 

     “Huh.. Honestly, I wasn't expecting that one.” Lukas admits. 

     “Man.. Yeah, I sure do miss that guy.” Nell speaks up from the couch where she still sits. She at some point stopped playing with the slimeball to sit back on the cushion of the couch, gazing straight up at the ceiling. 

     “Ooookay. And does this guy have a name?” Lukas darts his gaze between the two. Nell sits up a bit and looks at Radar, while Radar keeps his back turned to them in what Lukas can’t tell is a defensive demeanor or not. There’s another pause where the only sound breaking the deafening silence in the room is the rain pattering against the roof. 

     “His name was Jesse…” The squeaky voice of the scholar cracks with emotion. Radar takes in a deep, grounding breath as he then straightens up and turns back towards Nell and Lukas. “But he’s gone now, and.. And there’s no chance of him ever coming back, so if you’re looking for information on the New Order, you best start looking in either BoomTown or Redstonia. B-because that’s where the other two members are.” 

      Jesse… The name echoes in his mind. He’ll make sure to write that down later.

     As for the other… two? “What? Hold on a minute, what do you mean two? I thought there were three surviving members of the New Order?” 

     “Don’t bother looking for the third.” Radar’s usually soft and excited expression sours as he speaks. “What’s left of who she once was is gone. You won’t find anything but trouble there.” 

      Won’t find anything but trouble, huh? That reminds Lukas of something else, enticing a new question to take form. “Well I really appreciate you telling me that stuff Radar. I can tell it’s not easy for you.” Lukas notices the way the younger male seems to brighten up, offering a small smile and a short nod. “I was curious by the faces you two made earlier though. In regards to me mentioning Aiden? Ring a bell?” 

     “Aughh.. Not that guy..” Nell throws herself back into the couch. “He’s a major pain in our-” 

     “He sucks! I hate that guy!” Radar shouts and throws his hands up, taking Lukas by surprise. “He’s always coming over here, pounding on our door whenever a new problem rises up! Blames us for everything! He even made us move our entire home over here! Tucked in between these buildings, we hardly have any space to build anymore!”

     “Let alone walk, talk, or live without him breathing down our necks.” 

     “BeaconTown has only gone downhill since he came here with his.. His goons.”

     “Goons?” Lukas repeats, a little perplexed by the word.

     “Maya and Gill.” Nell offers in short.

     “Yeah! A bunch of no good griefers, that’s all they are!” Radar collapses back onto the couch, sinking into it with a sigh. “Okay, I’m done yelling now.” 

     “Wow… uhh… So you guys hate him too, huh?” 

     “Totally.” 

     “Roger that, Lukas-dude.” 

     Lukas takes a moment to think about this. 

     So, from this encounter alone, he’s learned that Radar used to be the New Order’s intern, Aiden is hated amongst other BeaconTowner’s and that… The deceased leader of the New Order’s name is… Jesse. 

      Jesse… I’ve definitely heard that name before… 

     The sound of the rain draws Lukas back to his senses, willing the author up and onto his feet. “Well, thank you both for enlightening me. I really do appreciate you taking time out of your day to help me have a better understanding of what’s going on around here. I do want to talk more about this, but it’s late and today was… rough.” 

      “W-wait, Lukas, before you go.” Radar stands up and steps forward, closing the distance between himself and the author. The blond smiles awkwardly as the scholar takes his hand into both his own, giving it an.. Almost professional shake. “Thank you for what you did the other day.” Lukas squints at him, a bit confused. “The postcard I mean. You were right,” Radar steps back now, releasing Lukas’ hand which the author quickly tucks into the safety of his pants pocket. “I did need some inspiration. He-... Jesse… Wouldn't want to see BeaconTown this way. So I’m going to do my best to bring back some of the colors it once had, in honor of him.” 

     Lukas blinks, surprised yet heart warmed by the words Radar speaks. He had no idea his gift of the postcard would mean so much to him, but now more than ever does Lukas feel like he made the right decision in giving it to him. 

     “And in honor of you too.” 

     Lukas tilts his head, slightly taken aback by that statement. “In honor of me?” 

     “Yeah!” Radar chirps in a peppy tone. “You helped not only me, but Nell too. You helped us both find that drive to once again push for building rights in BeaconTown again. If you wouldn’t mind, we’d also really like a bit of your insight on the build we’re planning to commemorate BeaconTown's slow recovery.”

     “Insight? That’s.. Awfully kind of you Radar, but I don’t know a thing about building.” Lukas confesses.

     “That’s okay! Jesse always did say there’s creativity in everybody, no matter how new or how experienced they are.” 

     “Shhyeah, Radar’s right. Jesse, like, inspired me to build my first house here in town. Gave me some building material and said let your heart do the rest… or uh.. Something like that.” Nell shrugs.

     Radar reaches out and grasps Lukas’ shoulder, giving it a light shake. “Give it some thought, will you?” 

     “Hmm.. Well..” Lukas thinks it over a bit, and while he doesn't have a clue as to which blocks would be ideal for building projects, he does have at least one idea in mind. “How about something blue?” Lukas isn't sure what he was expecting with that response, but it certainly wasn't for Radar to start sniffling and get teary eyed. Lukas leans back a little bit, looking at Nell for help. “Uh.. Not a fan-?” 

     “B-blue was his.. favorite color.” Radar sniffles a bit more, then straightens up with another deep breath. “You're right, Lukas. Blue it is! I'll keep you updated on what ideas we come up with.”

     Coming back to BeacInn, Lukas enters his room and practically collapses onto the bed. Dewey opens his eyes, emitting a chirp to greet his face down owner before tucking his nose back under his tail and drifting off to sleep. Lukas turns over on the comforter, sprawling out and staring up at the ceiling. 

     After his brief talk with Nell and Radar, he felt a little bit better knowing there’s more people here in town who dislike Aiden as much as he does. Quite the trouble maker he seems to be.

     It’s.. nice having people to talk to. People who are interested in talking to him too. It’s nice knowing Radar was looking forward to seeing him just to give that small update of his newfound inspiration. It feels really nice to be responsible for that kind of positive impact on someone, and Lukas can tell that the folks here in BeaconTown need it. Whatever Radar and Nell have planned, he hopes it brings the town's spirit of creativity back. 

     Lukas turns on the bed, gazing past his dark room and out towards the windows. The arrival of rain is beginning to become something Lukas expects as summer draws closer to an end. 

     …He wonders if the Admin is okay. If the rain makes him feel as lonely as Lukas does right now. He can’t help but hope that the man is somewhere warm and dry, and that the Allay is safe with him, snuggled up in the fluffy moss of the Admin’s cloak. Lukas smiles at the thought, thinking of how cute the little blue spirit is, and how… sweet it is that it finds its sanctuary with something as massive and intimidating as the Admin. 

     And what of that poor forest? Lukas has never seen such purposeful destruction to such a harrowing degree. All that, and he’s still forced to wonder why? With everyone being so secretive, there’s still so much hurt and confusion squeezing his heart.

     As the moon rises up above the dark clouds shedding rain upon the landscape, the pattern in Lukas’ mind persists. He falls asleep thinking of him, as well as what the next day could possibly bring.

     ~

     And just like that– he’s gone. 

     Arms crossed, glare unwavering as he lingers for a few passing moments. While Lukas has still proven himself to be part of an invasive species, the words he speaks plead with Admin’s everlasting skepticism toward him. There is no deeper meaning behind his most recent actions in allowing Lukas to tread within his forest, and the parts of it that have burned down.

     A scare tactic that had turned on himself, instead of scaring off the scholar, he turned around and threw his hands up with an incredulous speech. A threatening promise to take a piece of his mind all the way back to..

     Petra..

     The name echoes within his mind, being caught with an unplanned wave of dread. There is nothing left in that field the same way there is nothing left in BeaconTown. He’s left it all to grow and bloom on its own accord, both are no longer home. 

     Admin flashes within a bright light and disappears within the following dark shadow just as the Allay itself comes floating by. The Admin’s strange omnipotence being a guide for the creature as soon as he reaches his own destination chunks away.

     The rain begins with its light droplets until it turns into a downpour. The leaves above do not offer shelter, which he can only thank the clouds above for. For the moss floor flourishes with each rain, just as the shawl does that rests along his shoulders and protects his back.

     He casts his gaze upward, looking straight to the sky as his mind sparks with the image of the scholar and his pet, if they got home before being soaked to the bone. 

     Deep within the darkness, he spies across another clearing. Though this one is made of mossy mounds and rare uncanny trees. Their knotted limbs and uncomfortable looking twisted trunks are that of nightmares. The glowing veins within their cold, dark colored bark let the Admin know that within this depth of the Forest.. he is truly alone.

     He slowly trudges forward, leaving no trailing steps behind him. The moss is healthy and reforms as each heavy step lifts away from its damp surface. It takes quite a bit of time before he centers himself within the cold biome, finding the perfect area to seat himself in the comfort of the thick moss.

     I won’t tell anyone about this. You can trust me..

     Two sides to this man. One is overly confident and selfish, while the other pleads for access to his innermost woods and for him to.. communicate. What exactly is this author after? 

     Admin shakes his head. To give this human what he wants is to put his entire life at risk, doesn't he know that yet? The past is nothing compared to what could possibly come in the future for him.. For them both.

     Lukas. 

     His name is Lukas..

     Lukas protected, played with, and then freed the Allay before thinking of freeing himself. His survival instincts tell him only that he’s been sheltered, to care more for others than for himself. 

     It's a dangerous heart to have.

     With a deep sigh, Admin retrieves the sweet berries he took from Lukas. Popping the latch off one of his many belt pockets and scooping out the little bundle that holds the red sweets. He splayed the wrap open and the berries spread atop his gloved hand, only letting one fall before he reached and plucked it from the mossy ground.

     The Deity holds it eye level with himself, losing himself in uncomfortable feelings the day had brought him back down into.

     Lukas has left him no choice but to trust him, now that he’s returned to town that is.. Whatever he may do, Admin doesn't want the ocelot harmed, nor its arrogant owner.

     Admin tosses the berry into his mouth, its sweet juices reminding him of the Allay. How scared it was to be captured so suddenly.. They're all lucky the snare wasn't equipped with an alert system. 

     That's two traps in a few days.. The hunters must be on edge now that Lukas is coming back home without well.. being horrified by Admin himself, let alone the darkness he brings. 

     She must be on edge.. 

     He’ll be on the lookout for more traps after he finishes his little snack. The rain has never stopped him before and it wouldn't stop him now, the changing colors of the leaves only remind him that it will be getting colder soon. More winds and harsh weather.. The droves of hunters that come find only weakness the longer they stay out. For the sake of the creatures that live in depths of his forest will be kept safer the more he brings the rain and cold. For the sake of Lukas’s own safety, Admins mind wanders beyond snares and pitfalls.. for the blond male is a walking weakness in itself. 

    The berries are gone, and so he stands. It’s time to get back to work. Nightfall officially comes, the rain falls with it.

[knightpetrichor]

I’m Craving Open Air and Solid Ground

Summary:

Kunikida spins around, suddenly anxious, hands raised. It wasn't the first time he'd needed to fight someone in an alleyway—and then he pauses.

There was someone in the box behind him. A child, to be specific.

Its eyes remind him of the cat he had just been petting. Eyes that currently stare up at him from a hollowed face, painted with terror.

Atsushi escapes the orphanage six years earlier. This changes things. (Or: After being kicked out by his parents, 16-year-old Kunikida finds an orphan, and Atsushi begins to heal.)

★ Kunikida & Atsushi-centric (platonic)

★ 4k words

★ 1 chapter

★ Canon Divergence/Pre-Canon

Tag list: @obsidianstrawberrymilk

finally done w the fic 😁

preview below!

When Kunikida turns sixteen, despite his situation, he has a few things going for him.

He's found a place to stay, for one. The man who owns it is always wreathed in cigarette smoke, but he hadn't asked for any identification; just gave Kunikida the room and asked him to keep the noise down. It was why he'd come to the sketchier part of Yokohama—here, no one bothered to check his identity. No one wondered why he was all alone. He was free.

And wasn't that a thought?

When he'd first ran away, a year back, Kunikida hadn't been nervous about them finding him. Hell, his parents had kicked him out of their house. They wouldn't look for him—nobody would. Surviving on the streets hadn't fazed him much either.

(Everyone around him had wondered why he'd gotten into so many fights, why someone as smart and obedient as him was beating bullies into the dirt, and he didn't know how to explain that liking authority and liking order were different things, and protecting people was more important than any symbol of power.)

He was good at surviving on his own. His scabbed-over knuckles and torn jacket were proof of that. It was why, when he walked down the dirty back alleys, he wasn't worried about getting jumped.

Kunikida wasn't an idiot. He knew this part of Yokohama was notorious for its gangs, and the Port Mafia's shadow loomed above them all, from the weakest child to the most hardened criminal. These passages, built from crumbled brick and cardboard, were prime spots to be targeted. But it was mid-afternoon, and the Port Mafia usually left him alone, so he continued walking. Besides, the cats would want to see him.

Shards of glass crunched under tall combat boots as he walked, and the scent of mold filled the air as he walked under tall buildings, awnings blocking the sun, but he didn't mind; he's walked this path so many times he could do it in the dead of night, with only the light of a cigarette flickering against brick walls to illuminate the way, and only the squeaking of rats to keep him company.

Something moved in the dimness to his right. Kunikida glanced in that direction, but didn't change his posture. It was one of the cats: Nana. There were many cats that lived in this alley, shielded from the elements, but Nana was his favorite. He was the first to approach Kunikida, those few months back. It had been injured by a car and crawled its way into a cardboard box in this very alleyway. Kunikida had cleaned it up, and just like that, he'd had a new friend. It was named Nana, nine in Japanese, after the shape of its tail, which was bent at the top, like the Japanese kanji. Checking in on the alley cats had quickly become a new part of his schedule, something that he followed religiously. (Kunikida doesn't like obeying, doesn't like obedience, but this isn't the result of some authority figure pushing their judgment onto him; he trusts himself more than he does one of those, anyway.)

It crept out of its box, slinking closer.

Kunikida holds out a piece of tuna—the remnants of his last dinner, two days before. "Hello, there."

The alleyway was silent save for the quiet sounds of a tail swishing. 

He reaches out a hand and waits. Nana inches forward—tentative, like a rat crawling out of a hole. It presses its face into his hand.

Kunikida smiles faintly. "You're a strange one, aren't you?"

The cat peers up at him—

And something moves out of the corner of his eye. Nana jumps up and leaves quickly, dashing for the exit.

Kunikida spins around, suddenly anxious, hands raised. It wasn't the first time he'd needed to fight someone in an alleyway—and then he pauses.

There was someone in the box behind him. A child, to be specific.

Its eyes remind him of the cat he had just been petting. Eyes that currently stare up at him from a hollowed face, painted with terror.

Kunikida frowns down at him—he has a clear enough view to assume that it's a him. "Hello? What are you doing here? A bit too young to be out on your own, don't you think?"

That was probably a little hypocritical. But, this child was even younger than he was, and obviously didn't know how to fend for himself. If Kunikida had to guess, he'd say he was around 10 or so.

Still, it is a child. A clearly starving child who might need his help. So he crouches down at eye level, softening his voice—as much as he knows how to—and says, "I don't have any real food with me, just raw tuna, but there's a restaurant near here. Would you like something to eat?"

Again, the kid doesn't speak, just stares up at Kunikida with those large, unblinking eyes. He suppresses a sigh.

And then—slowly, like someone might hurt him if he moved too fast—the kid gives a silent nod.

Kunikida gets up with a huff. "Well then? Follow me."

He does.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 39: Weaving of the Web

Something something spoilers.

Something something the entirety of The Wheel of Time, not just book one.

Something something block tags.

Something something read the books.

Something something chapt--

No wait this part I want to put effort into. This chapter's icon is the Lion of Andor once again, because we're still in Caemlyn and Rand is about to be diving skull-first into the lion's den.

Mat glowered from where he lay curled up in a ball on his bed. “Take that Trolloc you’re so friendly with.”

STFU book 1 Mat. Rand, if he needs a bath so damn bad, throw a full bucket at him for comments like this. Throw several buckets at him, then blind him with more lightning. All must love Loial or else.

Herbalists and hedge-doctors were lying low in Caemlyn right now; there was talk against anyone who did any kind of healing, or fortunetelling. Every night the Dragon’s Fang was scrawled on doors with a free hand, sometimes even in the daylight, and people might forget who had cured their fevers and poulticed their toothaches when the cry of Darkfriend went up.

It's impressive that Mat is literally being corrupted by a source of evil that is some equal yet opposite to the source of all other evil and yet he still isn't the most paranoid asshole in the city. The Whitecloaks are stirring this up of course, proof that they as a faction completely suck, but between the winter and the False Dragon it didn't take much.

“Don’t know his name. Just heard about him. I hear most things in Caemlyn, eventually. Beggar.” The innkeeper grunted.

Oh right, Fain's in town. Still, Mat's not even the SECOND-most paranoid asshole in town. Really, Caemlyn is all kinds of fucked: the dagger and Fain within, "strange shapes" outside the city, the Whitecloaks flowing in and out... This city takes beating after beating in these books. There's a noose tightening around Rand and he's barely paying it any attention.

“Watch your back today, man.” Lamgwin’s voice sounded like gravel in a pan. “When the trouble starts, you’ll be a handy one to have here, not somewhere with a knife in your back.”

I suspect that Rand had to have the accident he's about to have to keep his dumb ass from ta'verening the riot into some sort of coup. All the crazy accidents he causes most of the time would really be the last straw.

Today, Caemlyn celebrated a victory of the Light over the Shadow. Today the false Dragon was being brought into the city, to be displayed before the Queen before he was taken north to Tar Valon.

I feel like there's something here, with this false Dragon and soon-to-be former Queen (and soon-to-be false Amyrlin) being the thing that everyone has their eyes on while the real Dragon meets with the future Queen and the real Amyrlin (either Siuan or Egwene works) is miles away. Elaida's Foretelling in particular seems like an echo of the one Siuan received long ago. I just can't quite string all the parallels together.

No one would have dared do such a thing two days earlier. More, Rand realized, the men who had done the bumping wore white cockades on their hats. It was widely believed the Whitecloaks supported those who opposed the Queen and her Aes Sedai advisor, but that made no difference. Men were doing things of which they had never before thought. Jostling a Whitecloak, today. Tomorrow, perhaps pulling down a Queen?

It's never said so, but I feel very much that this is some of Rand's ta'veren, the way that these dudes who should feel like they're on the same side are all sniping at each other.

Where streets in the New City mostly ran every which way in a crazy-quilt, here they followed the curves of the hills as if they were a natural part of the earth. Sweeping rises and dips presented new and surprising vistas at every turn. Parks seen from different angles, even from above, where their walks and monuments made patterns pleasing to the eye though barely touched with green. Towers suddenly revealed, tile-covered walls glittering in the sunlight with a hundred changing colors. Sudden rises where the gaze was thrown out across the entire city to the rolling plains and forests beyond.

Frankly something about this construction sounds almost impossible. Too many angles, too many heights. It feels like navigating a city designed by M. C. Escher. Wish I could live in Caemlyn!

The ragged man paused on the far edge of the street. His cowl, torn and stiff with dirt, swung back and forth as if searching for something, or listening. Abruptly he gave a wordless cry and flung out a dirty claw of a hand, pointing straight at Rand. Immediately he began to scuttle across the street like a bug.

One of the reasons I never much liked Jordan's statements that Fain was unique and had "side-stepped the Pattern" is moments like these, where his presence in Rand's life seems like a necessary ingredient to victory. If Fain hadn't scared Rand so much here, he wouldn't have ended up at the palace. Sure, some other coincidence might have happened (and he hasn't been Winded yet, so you could argue that he's still mostly on track here), but every major Fain moment in the series seems as intricately necessary as other major events that don't involve him instead of anything feeling off-script. I'll talk about this more as we go forward.

The beggar would not give up; he was sure of it, though he could not say why. That ragged shape would be working its way through the crowds at that very minute, searching, and if Rand returned to see Logain he ran the risk of a meeting.

I think Rand's certainty here is him twigging off of the alterations Fain's had that make him more Shadowspawn that the average Darkfriend.

The face of the wall had been left much in the natural state of the stone, the huge blocks fitted together so well that the joins were nearly invisible, the roughness making it seem almost a natural cliff. Rand grinned. The cliffs just beyond the Sand Hills were higher, and even Perrin had climbed those.

Ladies, gentlemen, those who transcend the petty binaries of mortals, meet the shittiest construction in the entirety of the Third Age. A wall whose only purpose is to allow one idiot farmboy after another climb the wall like they're lemmings with a power-up. It's a miracle Perrin never actually ends up doing it, since Jordan establishes right here that even he could. Why did they build this wall? How many people have taken advantage of it at one point or another? Can I blame Thom in some way to make sense of this absurdist bit of architecture? Yes that seems best. It's Thom's personal "fuck the queen while Damodred's at the front gate" wall. Maybe other sneaky lovers have used it over the years.

His clothes seemed ordinary, a cloak and coat and breeches that would not have caused comment in any farming village. But the way he wore them. The way he held himself. Logain was a king in every inch of him. The cage might as well not have been there. He held himself erect, head high, and looked over the crowd as if they had come to do him honor. And wherever his gaze swept, there the people fell silent, staring back in awe. When Logain’s eyes left them, they screamed with redoubled fury as if to make up for their silence, but it made no difference in the way the man stood, or in the silence that passed along with him. As the wagon rolled through the Palace gates, he turned to look back at the assembled masses. They howled at him, beyond words, a wave of sheer animal hate and fear, and Logain threw back his head and laughed as the Palace swallowed him.

Logain's being so clearly important despite being captured is nice foreshadowing for the way he'll sidestep the fate the Tower has planned for him. It also explains why so many people were willing to follow him, if he had such an air before capture.

Though it's not clear yet, Logain is laughing because he has the Talent to see ta'veren and Rand is so much ta'veren that he can see him from this distance. I'd always assumed this Talent is what Logain's controversial TV show line was referring to, Nynaeve being ta'veren in that canon and standing much closer to him, but maybe I'm crazy. It's been awhile since I saw season 1.

I have gotten my Fire Cube working again though, so maybe I should finish my rewatch to refresh myself? Eh. I'll probably just read butterflydm's a few dozen times and call it good and pretend that rewatching Bojack six times in as many weeks is healthy instead.

“Why were the Aes Sedai watching him?” he wondered aloud. “They’re keeping him from touching the True Source, silly.” He jerked to look up, toward the girl’s voice, and suddenly his precarious seat was gone.

Aww, Rand and Elayne have a meet cute. Rand nearly getting himself killed and barely dodging a concussion is a way better start to their romance than Min's creepy routine.

Sadly, Rand being knocked unconscious means we're done with this chapter and there was absolutely no Loial in it. It's an absolute travesty and I don't think Jordan's fixing that in the next chapter either. But we'll find out tomorrow!

[formula-red]

well. 353 days since i last saw my father. 313 days since i last spoke to him. 213 days since i sent him a letter telling him to never talk to me again. and today, with my sister now safe at uni, i finally blocked him

(do not read past this if you are sensitive to anything related to this)

(what is essentially a long journal entry incoming lol)

is this the end? i'd like to think so. but how do i truly end a relationship with someone who has shaped the most deformed parts of who i am?

you will always cast a long shadow across my life– the time and the effort i have already put and still have to put into undoing all that has been done, the literal and metaphorical cost of recovering, the parts of myself i hate, the fact that i hate myself in the first place– these are all things that will weigh on me for years, if not forever, in one form or another. i hear your words echoing in the ones i use to hurt myself. i can't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the same cold blue eyes that were so unfeeling in the moments when i felt far too much. i wonder if you ever look in the mirror and see the opposite; do you see my own reflected back at you, wide and innocent, just a child struggling to understand what she has done? there is a part of me that will remain that child looking for answers forever, a part of me that will always want to know what about me was so wrong to make you hate me so much, what about me was so different from my siblings and so revolting to you. a part of me that will always want you to love me. but i know that those answers will never come.

i try to tell people but they don't understand. and i know you wouldn't understand. did you know i had to learn how to be sad instead of angry? i didn't know how to be sad because of you. i thought that rage and violence were sadness. you taught me that anger is controllable, it can be weaponised, it is the emotion of the strong, but sadness is weak, sadness is embarrassing and humiliating and for children who can't handle themselves and who shouldn't be let out of the corner. you stripped me of basic human emotion, conditioned me to believe that feeling something other than anger was a sign of failure and fragility.

now i take pride in being everything that would disgust you. everything you trained me not to be. i am kind. i am soft. i am gentle. i am fragile. i am open. i am sad. i am happy. i ask questions. i give hugs. i cry. i listen. i care. i am still working on trusting, and on accepting myself, but i move towards both every day.

most importantly, i love. completely and deeply, i love. i love other people so much. i live my life vulnerable and open to destruction authored by the hand of another. i open myself to the immense beauty and pain that is loving another human being far beyond myself. i reach towards instead of pulling away, ready and willing. i love without restraint or hesitation. i love, i love, i love, i love, i love.

i know my life will be better without you. it IS better without you. and i will never, ever, treat another human being the way you treated me.

and while i will never forgive you, with time, i will be able to forgive myself.

and that is all that matters.

[its-pip-art]

So there's this thing that I've been doing recently with writing that I've never done before and I've only just realised where the influence has come from.

I have been writing fanfiction for nearly 15 years now and I always just wrote, did a cursory glance at it and then posted it and forgot about it.

But in the last couple of months, and I'll preface this now by saying I'm also an artist, I've been writing in a different and more considered way.

I write 'the bones' of the chapter, much like I did 15 years ago up until recently, I write whatever comes to mind and then I leave it for a day or two. I then re-read all of it, adding pockets of detail, trimming unnecessary sentences and building the world around the dialogue. Again, I leave it for a day and go back again and focus on the language and repetition of words or techniques and bring out my enormous 'word list' note that I've been cultivating for years and bring into the chapter some words that I rarely use. I then leave it again for a while and read it on my phone (reading on a different screen helps me see mistakes??) and fine tune. And then it's done.

I realised I'm writing in the same way I create art. Start with the sketch layer, rough and fluid but a solid base of ideas. Break. Neaten up with lineart/base colours to get the true shape and essence of the piece. Break. Block in those shadows and highlights - balance those warm tones with cool ones. Add in roughness to contrast softness. Break. Focus on accents and areas where the eye should be drawn with stray hairs or fine lines around the eyes, those little details you catch only if you really look hard...break. Export the piece and look at it on a different screen, notice that an eye is six inches higher than it should be and go back and fix it, and finally, I get to play with contrast and layer modes and perspective blur. And then it's done.

I'm really happy that my creative process for both of my hobbies has become identical, it's super comforting.

[glitteringaglarond]

They were like great figures seated upon thrones. Each had three joined bodies, and three heads facing outward, and inward, and across the gateway. The heads had vulture-faces, and on their great knees were laid clawlike hands. They seemed to be carved out of huge blocks of stone, immovable, and yet they were aware: some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them. They knew an enemy. Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded. They would forbid his entry, or his escape.

Hardening his will Sam thrust forward once again, and halted with a jerk, staggering as if from a blow upon his breast and head. Then greatly daring, because he could think of nothing else to do, answering a sudden thought that came to him, he drew slowly out the phial of Galadriel and held it up. Its white light quickened swiftly, and the shadows under the dark arch fled. The monstrous Watchers sat there cold and still, revealed in all their hideous shape. For a moment Sam caught a glitter in the black stones of their eyes, the very malice of which made him quail; but slowly he felt their will waver and crumble into fear.

He sprang past them; but even as he did so, thrusting the phial back into his bosom, he was aware, as plainly as if a bar of steel had snapped to behind him, that their vigilance was renewed. And from those evil heads there came a high shrill cry that echoed in the towering walls before him. Far up above, like an answering signal, a harsh bell clanged a single stroke.

'That's done it!' said Sam. 'Now I've rung the front-door bell! Well, come on somebody!' he cried. 'Tell Captain Shagrat that the great Elf-warrior has called, with his elf-sword too!'

I love this moment so much for a variety of reasons.

First of all, the absolute horror of this entry cannot be understated. It doesn’t even feel like something Sauron created… it’s just a pure, dark, twisted malice that he seduced into his realm - or perhaps it seduced him into the realm.

It’s a terrifying display of the horror of Darkness and how the power of Light can combat it.

And then Sam refers to it as “ringing the doorbell”, in quintessential Hobbit fashion, and I love it with my whole entire being

[chewingbatmanlikeasqueakytoy]

FR once you introduce floating/light rocks you are, in fact, morally obligated to give the people flying islands it's true XD (And I appreciate you fighting tumblr to share The Thoughts!!) Air traffic could be interesting, commercial planes would arguably not be a factor because they fly at 31000+ ft (says google) but a mile (which is a ridiculously large amount of space tbh) is like 5000ft, so even if someone was REALLY scraping the top of their build height the planes wouldn't be anywhere near them

The CARS though - so you mention in America a lot of towns are very straight through roads right? where I am we have this funky phenomenon that I absolutely hate with a passion, which is that new roads will cut through old homesteads and literally have the houses like. A FOOT, if even that much, from the actual literal side of the road - no footpath, no curb, just road|house. AWFUL. It's normally somewhere very tight, like bordered in on one side by water and on another by terrain rocky enough not to be developable but GOD

Which is mostly intended as context for the very questionable suggestion that they just punch holes through the skyscrapers for the cars like those buildings in Hong Kong that honestly look cool af

(Some of these buildings start to get real funky and honestly I'm here for it, google has conflicting reasons for why this is done but like honestly sometimes 'why' can be secondary to the cool shit people can come up with)

Like, you COULD go for the sensible suggestion that they just block off certain airspaces for use as building or travel. But where's the fun in that? Much more cool to have your commute to work go through five sequential building gaps like a racing game level tbh Probably the absolute limit to building is considered the atmospheric filter edge - though the question of 'how would a building just. poking out of the filters area work on anyone who saw it?' is entertaining in and of itself. Amity Parkers probably at some point start to consider the edge subconsciously, maybe even almost superstitiously. Additionally while the islands are theoretically something that allows Forever Upward building, someone DOES have to track them down and then possibly fight whoever is currently occupying the place and then drag it back which would be EXPENSIVE as fuck. I'm thinking like, 'purple dye historically' kinds of expensive. Especially with 'where do the islands come from' being a question, like are ghosts generating them? from what I remember they're all occupied in the show (by varyingly intelligent creatures) but if they're not just found and then used by ghosts but projections of them like Lairs in Fanon that's a WHOLE other problem At first I thought the islands might be able to go high enough to have the shadow dispersal effect that planes get - in that they're high enough and small enough they stop casting shadows apparently, but at that height you'd arguably not even be IN amity's jurisdiction anymore, so instead there could be a few possibilities: The city uses the shadows to it's advantage and larger islands get very carefully placed to affect as few people as possible in favour of specialised farming, similar to the 'false underground' from earlier where build up eventually got so much that it blocked out the light, so you end up with 'Dark' and 'Bright' Sides to Amity, which I could see developing a friendly rivalry

Or the city maintains the false underground but, considering that the sunlight is a limited resource and they can theoretically dig for more underground decide to use the shadow eliminating algorithm in (This) article, which is honestly really cool? Basically from what it says the buildings are shaped to just reflect light, however considering your point that if Amity is doubling it's landmass but not rainfall it's becoming more arid, what that would do to wildfire risks is a fair question. OH MAN BUT TALKING ABOUT THE DRAINAGE IDEA -- why not just make the upside down buildings into giant filtration systems? the top side of the island could catch the water and the buildings built underneath like the blimp idea could just straight up BE the funnels - gutters and gargoyles to protect buildings from rain have been a thing for forever, so just turn that decorative and make giant, upside down pyramids with water fountain spouts instead of spires. THAT would be a hell of a sight for the people learning about bylaws. It would also create a frankly stunning sight and lake, like goddamn, imagine working/living in that?

Honestly the hilarious solution to the drainage would be making the myth about the Burj Khalifa having miles of poop trucks true and just making it so the islands had to truck off all their septic tanks everyday (the myth is that it was the Burj only that didn't have sewers - it was apparently pm all the buildings in Dubai, so they had like 4000 sewer trucks instead) the more sensible solution is probably either a drainage island below that island (disgusting sounding but apparently not as nasty as you'd think) with the drainage fields you suggest

Or to have the island essentially hollowed out and have a closed water treatment system with reserves service the island, so the islands would essentially be buildings shelled over in floating rock to make them more buoyant/lighter, and then also provide additional material of the rare floating rock In this case if it's privately owned everything on the island would be the responsibility of the private owners, but thing like library's would be the cities Arguably if the Fentons have the whole flying car thing cracked they might not need to use tethers at all (but fail safes and aesthetic choices never hurt) if they just use a large version of whatever system they designate to control the spectre speeder it could likely control the island inspite of winds and inspite of altitude bobbing, if it drifts past a set amount of meters from 'designated point' then it would just correct to that designated point, or you could have a new job type open up where people are essentially island pilots and it's their job to make sure nothing goes wrong with the machines like some kind of island shepherd. mcwekl okay we arrived at the same conclusion lmao, but yes I agree! it definitely seems automatable that the islands can be affected by ghost powers and honestly, if the devices can then push that weightlessness onto anything then the need for ghost rock in and of itself is eliminated and mostly would serve as a failsafe for the islands to fall slower and have more time to correct than as the main buoyancy aid, essentially the reverse of the tethers If they're using ecto to power things it's likely not a problem, and closed systems do take care of the water pipe issue, but realistically those islands need internet. The one TRUE human desire XD unless theyre some kind of retreat from technology thing going on, or they get the cities most crazy powerful wifi going to eliminate the need for internet cables Oh wow you know a lot about storms and electric, I'm going to default to whatever you say on that because I have VERY little electrical know how, but what about lightening rod islands? just little ones made almost entirely of metal to direct the energy away from the tethers? They could probably be highly decorative tbh, or their placement themselves be decorative above and below the islands in constellation patterns so long as the main purpose wasn't interfered with oop you got to that one nvmnd XD (Okay that's both fascinating and terrible but 'weird ways we might end the world' even the very theoretical ones are high on my list of 'things I should probably be less entertained by' but that's actually so cool? like there's stuff we know we'll never see in our lifetimes but goddamn what a concept) Honestly in terms of really bad storms depending on how the islands and under the islands are shaped the islands could always lower and provide what is essentially a giant, lid like storm shutter, whether from the shape of the island itself or just by lowering actual giant shutters - mentioning turning turtle houses could always be modified to flip at a moments notice, where ceiling can become floor for added protection if the islands do need to lower, sort of like how boat houses are modified to have everything bolted down but to a more extreme degree considering i don't think boat houses flip upside down does that give the Fentons another fortune making invention XD ? I don't have a lot of experience with crazy weather but even just the ability to mitigate hurricane winds reliably is something I understand to be a serious concern in America

Honestly Valerie has a hoverboard in the show so everything from single person vehicles to whole buses and trains is a go in my opinion, though ski lifts in place of something like trams would be really funny at the lower altitudes (i also imagine a ban on flying your hoverboard too high without a natural flyer around - falling debris/people can do such a horrendous amount of damage after all, either a height limit or an area limit or some kind of implant that forces the board to track and catch you if you fall off would be needed) oooo! 1 imagine the bats trying to follow anyone before they cottoned on to that - good luck circling a building to block the exits (not that they would likely get the chance to considering the locals reactions) 2 that could also absolutely be a wealth factor - if the floating rock is rarer/hard to get then it's the rich that have it and therefore have the higher structures that would likely need the doors (if they're artificial like the portal) and the lower areas of the city would rely on things like cable and tether systems

Though how far this disparity would be allowed to grow is a question bc the fentons as a whole are essentially sitting on the ability to control the portal technology. On the other hand if the ghosts can do it then it's more a question of 'can you get them what they want' which again, if it's the rich they probably have more connections to do so

It feels very fitting honestly, it may even serve as the final nail in the coffin for doubters if they learn about OtherSide (corny name? yes.) considering how extraordinarily NORMAL a way for a town to develop that is, like the worlds most effective 'we're still people' point you could get

Why doesn't the justice league know about Amity Park?

Okay so it's been a bit sonce I watched the show but one of the things in DpxDC is the anti-ecto acts, which I love, but correct me if I'm wrong, I THINK ??? they only show up in reality trip? SO: What if Danny, when using the gauntlet to undo everything, also got rid of the Anti-Ecto acts? but this is babys first time editing reality so he uh Fucks Up A Lil'. As a result when Danny used the reality gauntlet to wipe the AEA from existence he accidentally wiped Amity Park from perception. A big 'nothing matters over here' jedi mind trick, and now no ones looking at Amity. So, the Justice League actually WERE looking into and monitoring the situation in Amity, but when the perception filter closed them off, all of that suddenly went ignored.

This is noticed when someone (Alfred, Dick, Tim, literally anyone) realises theres just. A BIG dusty pile of case files semi abandoned somewhere in the cave when going through a (time period)ly cave cleaning.

They put it down because it's Not Important.

They come back to finish the cleaning the next day and do the exact same thing, but there's nothing to actually distract them this time and it pings as weird. Because why would case files be not important? They are by definition important, because only things flagged as important go into case files.

They try to get someone else to read it, because as long as they don't read the information in the file, they don't put it down.

That person goes to read it, gets a line in and then says something like 'that isn't important' and goes to leave. Person A pushes it and person B ALSO catches on.

Que the Batfam trying to figure out hey, what the fuck actually?

Meanwhile, how is Amity fairing? Canon compliant everything's going alright? Or have knock on effects to No One Look Here started to show?

[roaringwish]

Can you do a tutorial on how you draw your art? Please

Sure!!! Thank you for asking!

This demonstration is sponsored by uhhh lumpy Marisa.

First I usually pose a model with MagicPoser. Many times I also use a lot of other references, it depends. When I'm designing I usually need a lot of them (pictured below).

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Step 2 is blocking out a basic body shape (even if most of it will be hidden) and object the character(s) will be interacting with.

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After that I add all elements of the character really roughly. I'm just going for a color scheme and a rough posing at this point.

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After that I usually do color correction. These colors (aside from the skin color) are referenced from Marisa's LoLK portrait, but the hair's color was too close to the skin's so I made that more orange, and since the skin and white colors were too similar I just made them a single color.

The broomstick is more reddish so that it harmonizes better with the rest of the colors as a near-complementer color to blue.

---------------------------------------------------- Then first I draw the details of the face and the hands. These are the first two things most people focus on, so they require a lot more care (part of the reason is that I struggle with these two features but shhh).

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After that I draw general cleaning up, and adding more details. Most of my lines are done by me drawing a line unsuccesfully and then erasing part of it back and then drawing some more unsuccessful lines and then erasing those back too.

Color placement is based on shadow sometimes but I’m mostly focused on distributing color evenly. There should be no place on a character where a color is entirely absent from.

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The final touches are some more details and effects and patterns. Details tend to lively up my art because there’s a lot for the eyes to feast on.

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By this point I either decide to add analogue printed effects or not. They tend to look better with fewer details, I know Marisa here didn’t look great with them so I ditched that step.

-

The best thing about this art style is that it’s low effort, which is really good for someone like me who’s generally a low energy (can’t draw much at a time), but impulse driven (when I have an idea I need to draw it IMMEDIATELY) and has imprecise hands and bad depth perception (can’t do details without them looking wrong). This Marisa took 3-4 hours and she was entirely drawn with a mouse.

It’s silhouette-based so I almost never go for "anatomically accurate", I tend to go for what catches the eye more and what "feels right". That's why I draw the head bigger and that's why I tend to make poses that clearly(ish) show what all limbs are doing and that’s also why I put funny shapes and patterns (people tend to focus on details + patterns are fun).

What really matters about it is composition and color-choices, not accuracy and that’s huge for me as someone who tried and failed to pursue hyper-realism and hated every second of it.

[husbandohunter]

What they love about you (part 1) [Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti x female reader

Part 2 here

(A/n): Okay okay I know I have some requests yet I decided to write something super indulgent. I'M SORRY! This past week I've just been writing so much angst *looks at inbox* AND MORE ANGST TO COME I really need that dose of Vitamin F(luff) 😭

===========================

Noctua's Heartbeat (Diluc)

For a man who had the whole world in the palm of his hand

With looks, fame and all the wealth he could demand

But what stole away his breath was something not to be bought

For it was merely the calming presence of your living and beating heart.

Your heart was a dignity born for empathy, so beautiful and magnificent with the kind of charm similar to white Cecilias blooming across Mondstadt's fields. Diluc would watch from afar, admiring their glow. It shines without reservation, blissfully unaware to a fault that he couldn't help but feel afraid knowing how the real world would simply pluck you from your roots and shape you in the way they wanted to. People who were tainted souls with tainted soles roaming from the shadows, constantly trampling on other's beliefs before leaving them to rot.

Ah but of course, Cecilias are wildflowers. No matter how many times they were stepped on, they could still withsand any force nature throws at them. Whether it'd be raging storms or scorching heat from the summer sky, you were the same through it all. Love. You were in love. You were in love with the wind, you were in love with people, you were in love with the world and everything that lives in it.

And so, Diluc wonders if that was the reason why everything suddenly began to shimmer.

He treaded on a path fated for loneliness while longing for the dawn to appear out of the night horizon-- where emotions once frozen until you came in to melt the ice. He blocked his heart but you tore down those walls. Diluc swore to never feel if it meant protecting himself and yet you held onto his shattered pieces tenderly, dearly, blowing the love of life and teaching it how to beat again.

Your heart was like a fountain of all the hopes he abandoned years ago and the dreams that no one had the courage to envision, cleansing everything within it's reach and freshening them anew. You were a being so in tune with your emotions that it sang through all that you did, laughing despite your obstacles and shedding tears when overjoyed, a single drop it was but still held the depth of the entire ocean. Diluc vows to protect you for your heartbeat was also his own. He'll gladly lay down his life because losing you deemed far worse than any death he could imagine.

~xx~

The other eye of Pavo Ocellus (Kaeya)

The knight's shining armour serves only as a disguise

When beauty from the surface is one's own demise

He used it to protect himself, decorating his words with pretty lies

But unmatched when facing against your truthful eyes.

They say the eye was an open window to a person's true colours. If that were the case then the painting inside him must have been an unsightly one.

Every once in a while the people of Mondstadt would speak about their Cavalry Captain's eyepatch, whether he was injured after being sent out on a mission or if he wears it for the sake of image. No one knows, it was rather unsettling, why someone would cover their eye despite not being injured. Secrets? Perhaps. Kaeya was known to be a man shrouded in mystery after all.

Your gaze was his Death After Noon. Sparkling upon the surface yet with the tasteful allure so captivating that it was almost dangerous. Just one glance and he was intoxicated, eventually leading to a slip of the tongue, revealing what was buried deep within his contaminated essence. Kaeya hated that you had the uncanny ability to see through his mask. Your innocence so contrasting, he felt like looking into a mirror, reminding just how much of an ugly person he truly was in comparison.

But mirrors are easy to break, no?

The thought delivers a sinister smile on his face. Pitiful-- is the state where you were. Pitiful-- it's what he is. How could he think of such things when all you offered was kindness? Unlike Kaeya, you were an honest person, always wearing your emotions on your sleeve and unaware of the devil's vicinity. He was tempted by the invite to crush you and run away like the coward he was meant to be. However as he stares deeply into your eyes he realized they weren't made of glass. They were gems. The most precious gems hardened by the pressures of experience.

In the shine of thine eyes resides the stars and the moon as if stolen from the Abyss, leading to the edges of the universe that was blessed within your mind. The look of curiosity filled with rich hues all held by a soulful stare while they pierced through the armour shaped around his heart. It was your ability to recognize beauty amongst the most wretched of things that he fell so hopelessly in love with you because for the first time someone had seen him-- his flaws and his faults, his abyss painted darker than black but loved him despite it all. As he drowns himself in the world of your gaze, Kaeya prays to never be the one who will steal away those stars or moon because they looked the most beautiful on you.

~xx~

The Winged Nemesis who flew towards the Sun (Xiao)

He looks at your face as if he saw spring for the first time

An unsual encounter, wondering how could something be so sublime

The yaksha stands upon the corpses while reaching for the sky

Seeing the sun in your smile that he wishes to fly

Xiao has dealt with the cards of death and won through many of it's games. But his life was a gamble as the karmic binds may one day bring the same fate that was done upon his comrades-- insanity, murder and corruption. So he swears an oath to his god and himself, ensuring the darkness only he could bear does not seep into the light.

A gust of wind sways in when you pass by, he was struck by pensive bewilderment because happiness was a feeling unknown to him. It was the expression you made whenever you greeted him good morning. The complexion you had while charging through life's challenges. And the face you wore even during the times where there was no reason to smile. Xiao has felt the might of the sun for her light will never be exstinguished by his darkness, he could only succumb to it.

But you were not just the sun, you were the flowers that bloomed beneath her heavenly sky and the birds that chirped upon those earth-like trees. You were a whole new world he didn't dare to touch because dreams were delicate and his cursed self would only devour them until nothing was left. Still, the mighty sun shines through it all, stretching out her rays like a welcoming embrace until the universe had been revitalized, giving birth to new life after winter's storm.

If pictures told a thousand words then he had a thousand reasons and more to love you. Xiao witnessed the sweetest joy decorated by pink petal blossoms dancing around him, the one who pulled him out of his spiraling trance of darkness. The breath he takes no longer felt suffocating and instead was replaced by the smell of nature's greatest gifts: you. Stay away, he says, because there were times where you shone so brightly that he had to look elsewhere. Your rays burned him and he thinks it might drill holes into his wings. Painful it may be but if the splendor of spring could only be admired after the harsh cold snow, then maybe pain and love were only two sides of the same coin.

A world without the sun--such unfathomable thoughts--is a death he does not wish to deal with.

~xx~

A song she sings for the God of Wind (Venti)

Man lives by the power of the tongue,

Whatever Man speaks is aligned with Man's choice.

Hearken when she talks for her words are to be sung,

Because not only was she lovely but so was her voice.

-Venti

There were many reasons why Venti loved music. The freedom to express oneself when words weren't enough, allowing one's spirit to flow out of their mouth and be with the wind. It was the feeling he had when he listened to you because your voice was sweeter than any song he sang or played.

When you speak it was as if the world around you danced, bringing them to the mercy of your stage. Like standing upon the soft grass while letting the sparks of dandelions dust against his own skin, Venti would close his eyes as he hears you speak-- it was you, just you and that was all he needed. He swears that no one in the world could sound as living as you did because it was the words you say that stole his heart away.

The vibration in your tone was fleshed with kindness yet so sure and firm to the point it could even bring a god to his knees. If he were a sailor then you were the siren, enchanting him with your bell-like voice and bringing him to a territory where he can never escape from. It was the spell of your divine song, his Carmen Dei, that tricked the trickster. Venti did not mind as long as he was able to feel the blessing amongst his ears.

[earthbovndmisfit]

Jonawagon Week 2022 - @speedstarweek Day 1: Alternate meeting/Childhood memories + 1st impression

Or...the story of how Jojo and a wounded Speedwagon first met about 12 years prior in some alley during one of the Joestars' visits to London (and after Jona got lost).

The two met during one of George's occasional business trips to London. In one of those occasions, Jojo wanted to look at something in one of the shops' windows they'd passed just a block away. It wasn't too far away from where they stood, but the street was crowded. This didn't deter little Jojo and he wandered away for what he thought was going to be a moment while George was a bit distracted talking to a potential business partner.

With all the people around, Jojo couldn't find his way back to his father when he was done and, instead, ended up in some dark alley, scared and already regretting his decision from earlier but, before he can try to find George, he sees some boy sitting on the dirty and cold ground there, behind some old wooden boxes. The boy looks a little older than him. Thinking he might be able to help him, Jojo tries to approach him.

As a child born, raised, and shaped in the worst part of the slums, Robert's response towards this stranger is to unsheathe his old but trusty knife. Jona stops in his tracks, shocked and still scared, but he's able to ignore that as soon as he notices the large and open wound on the boy's face. Fresh and bleeding a lot. This explains Robert's response as he was angry, scared, and in pain after being assaulted. Jojo became worried, and panicked too, unfamiliar with this sort of things and situations. And so he still tried to approach the blond, soon coaxing him into letting him get closer so he can help him. Robbie knew he didn't have much of a choice as it was that or bleeding tf out then and there.

Jojo didn't really know what to do save for what he once saw one of the maids do back home after a small accident with the cutlery. And so he took his embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket; fine fabric wiping some of the blood away from Robbie's face with care. The sight of such a fancy item only confirmed Robert's suspicions: The kid was most likely the child of some rich family. He doesn't give it much more thought in his current situation, though, as the pain he's in hogs most of this thoughts. Jojo cleans the wound as best as he can, carefully, all while Robbie toughens up and merely flinches and hisses at the contact.

Robert mentions that he has no family and no one to look after him either when Jojo tells him they need to find his parents. Faced with that response, Jojo says "We need to get my father!", urgency in the child's voice, and which petrifies Robert for an instant. After his experiences with rich people, Speedwagon knows they are no good at all, and that many of them are vicious and cruel, especially towards poor people like him. It'd been one rich asshole the one who had unfairly sent Robert's father to prison years back, after all, and so he didn't want to have anything to do with them, being this young lad before him the only exception so far.

"Jojo!" George's worried voice echoes through the alley almost right away, startling the two boys and making them jump a little; their eyes darting towards the entrance of the alley.

"Father!" Jojo exclaims, relieved to be reunited with him, but also relieved to know they will now be able to take proper care of Robbie's wound...

...or maybe not as, by the time Jojo turns to the blond, and before he can inform George about the situation, Robert is gone, vanished in the dark shadows of the alley, having taken Jojo's handkerchief with him by accident in the process (not that Jojo would miss much his now bloodied handkerchief anyway).

Jojo and his father looked for the kid around for a while, but with no luck. Unable to find him, the Joestars head back to Liverpool later that day, hoping the little blond would be okay, and with Jonathan regretting not having even asked him his name, occasionally looking around whenever the Joestars would visit London in future occasions.

On the other hand, Robert would often think about the boy who helped him in the alley, thinking fondly of him and regretting having left without even thanking him for what he did, but also worrying that that kind heart of his would end up getting him into serious trouble one day. Robert no longer had the embroidered handkerchief with him. The blood had ruined the fabric to the point where washing it wouldn't do much to save it, but the boy's name would always live in his thoughts, unaware that Jojo would often look for him while visiting London.

And so, for the next 12 years they never saw each other again, until their convoluted (re)encounter, when their paths crossed again on a cold night in Ogre Street and they were able to find each other again.

You know what they say, maybe people's encounters are decided by fate.

[off-1eash]

*[It's fitting for them to meet now the way they met for the very first time, years ago. When Phthalo had been so focused on looking for someone else, tracking them down with this same ill intention. It was widely regarded as a good thing back then, that he never found who he was really hunting for. Even if it was deserved, who's to say what he would've done? How that would've felt? Yet it was still very BAD that Stray was one of the ones he found in the process, as it turned out.]

*[A monster who thrives as a bad habit you pick up and can't shake, or a pushpin lodged into the sole of your shoe. ( Like a PUNISHMENT for your wicked streak. ) Stray has never left him alone since that chance encounter, finding something amusing in him that's far too easy to weasel out. Phthalo had made ritual of avoiding him, of blocking him from any contact, of trying not to think about him and let it ruin his good mood-- because it will. It always does. Being somebody's favorite toy will do that to you.]

*[And that's just what Stray likes about him. Phthalo can't let shit go, his history shows that. Everything festers even as he attempts to ignore it at any cost, and he's ashamed of that as an added treat. He's the perfect target.]

*[Naturally, Stray also knew that it would take a lot to drive Phthalo to come to him. To even consider confronting him anymore, especially in person. But it's so much more exciting to see the way that face sours and those unalike eyes gleam bright, sharp with anger when he sees this degenerate glaring him down right back. He couldn't pass up this opportunity to add on another win, and do whatever it took to MAKE him come by. It's been his true aim all along, although any damage done in the process was certainly additional entertainment.]

*[The eyes which radiate blue light to pierce the darkness of this alleyway are not Phthalo's, however. The height is wrong, the particular color, the shape of them and of the shadow which is cast by the beast as it lurks under moonlight. Just at the mouth of the alley, where it opens to the street... something which doesn't belong out here, walking city streets. It stares Stray down, the sound of metal paws unhurried one after another over the hard ground-- signaling its purposeful approach.]

*[The criminal readies himself for anything, grinning wider and wider to deviously split his face. One hand itches towards where he has his knife stashed on his person, the other still holding up his phone. There's no mistaking precisely who sent this engineered creature; who must be somewhere nearby, and likewise incoming.]

*[LET'S SETTLE THIS-- once and for all.]

looks like i finally reeled in a guest. 💜

[mythicamagic]

Fangs of Silver: Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome Higurashi has her work cut out for her, hunting one of the most elusive and powerful werewolves known to man: the Killing Perfection. Sesskag smut oneshot. Werewolf Sesshoumaru/monster hunter Kagome. 

Rated M

Words: 4,700

Read on Ao3 and Dokuga

AN: for @cookieasylum​ for an art trade. Thanks bud! Hope you like it

Fangs of Silver

Warning: werewolf x human smut, knotting, menstrual sex

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Two fingers unfurled to touch the moonlit forest floor, tracing the outline of a large paw-print stamped into dirt. Even splaying her palm wide with four fingers and thumb outstretched, Kagome couldn't hope to meet its size, dwarfed in comparison.

"Looks like I've found you again," she muttered, straightening from her crouch. Walking onwards and listening out for any hint of movement within the imposing woods- tall anorexic trees completely still with sharp looking branches- blue eyes remained alert, watchful.

She'd been tracking this one for God knew how long now. Months. Had it been a year yet? Though even the smallest victory of finding his tracks left no time for celebration.

Kagome frowned to herself. This particular beast wasn't usually so careless. He evaded her during daylight hours by wading through streams or keeping to rocky terrain, never giving the same name when mingling with villagers. Even when the Full Moon hit- he managed to be elusive and surprisingly clever. The smartest one she'd been sent to hunt. This time he'd either been sloppy or…

Kagome glimpsed something through a gap in the lower trees, located further down the hill. Smoke?

Surely he wasn't trying to trap her with something so obvious.

Frowning, Kagome set down her weapon and snuffed out the flames of her torch, checking her supplies. Enough silver bullets. Enough jewel shards. Her guns were in good shape, but she was out of herbal supplements to repress a certain annoyance that also occurred every month. Wincing, she put a hand to her lower abdomen, feeling it cramp.

Crap, not now.

She'd have to ignore it. She couldn't afford to lose this guy due to Mother Nature kicking her continually in the gut.

This beast had committed countless acts of violence- leaving behind a trail of bodies in their respective towns and villages. Unlike usual werewolves who sloppily left bitten survivors to run amok, this beast made no mistakes. He seemed to kill specific people and left them firmly for dead. He never inflicted the curse upon anyone. Surprisingly his victims were usually reported to be less than innocent citizens.

Due to the killings- a bounty had been placed on what the authorities referred to as 'the Killing Perfection.'

Creeping down a steep incline, Kagome stepped as lightly as possible within the relative darkness of the trees -autumn leaves crunching beneath her boots.

A lonesome house in the woods stood like a mourner in a graveyard under the light of the Full Moon, dark wood faintly eroded by time. Vines held the chimney in a stranglehold, but smoke puffing out of the top revealed it to be in working order despite the dilapidated state of the house.

Slipping around the side of the building and ducking out of sight from any windows, Kagome stopped with her back to the wall, loading her rifle while stooped into a crouch.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Kagome wasted no time. She pushed off and rounded the corner, kicking open the front door with the barrel of her gun trained inside.

Empty?

Kagome didn't let her guard down, slowly inching inside and glancing around.

The fireplace was lit with healthy flames- a kettle sat off to the side, an empty mug not too far away. Everything else in the room had a layer of dust costing it, but the armchair lay newly cleaned. Footprints trailed around the ashen floor, some human, some wolf prints.

Kagome searched the lower floor that comprised of mostly empty rooms, before pointing her gun up towards the stairs, setting foot on the first step.

It groaned loudly beneath her weight.

Wincing, blue eyes snapped to the top of the dark stairs for any tell-tale signs of movement.

Wandering up to the second floor cautiously and looking around revealed nothing more than dust bunnies.

Kagome frowned, eyeing the open window. Had he jumped down and escaped?

Sighing with disappointment, she shouldered her gun and trailed downstairs.

I suppose I can sweep the outside to pick up his trail again, but I bet he's long gone. He probably lit the chimney to distract me before making his escape and transforming for the night.

Wandering over to the kettle, she touched its side.

Still lukewarm. He'd literally just been there.

And I was too late.

Kagome groaned.

"What a disappointed noise. Were you aching to see me that badly?"

Stiffening, her heart jumped. The silky sounding words had come from behind her.

Pivoting on one heel, Kagome turned her weapon on the man lounging in the armchair.

His image blurred, snatching up her gun to lurch the barrel upwards just as she fired, the blast piercing the ceiling- some debris raining down.

Golden eyes sparked, snapping the barrel in two before throwing her to the floor with impressive strength.

Kagome gasped, back colliding hard with the wooden floors, winded. She quickly grabbed one of her pistols and trained it on the man- who had disappeared again.

"W-what?" she panted. "It's a Full Moon. Why haven't you transformed?"

"Ah, you wish for me to change? Very well," his voice rumbled from outside.

Fur blocked out the moonlight pouring in from the shutters, brushing along the side of the house. Quiet, hungry panting filled her ears.

Kagome quickly fired at the windows, but the shadows melted away, causing her to wonder if it had been a trick of the light.

"I heard tell of a woman who subdues my kind before using shards of a blessed jewel to revert them back into humans…"

Paws padded around the house, nails dragging- scraping the forest floor. "You have pursued me for some time. Did you hope to transform me into a mortal like those you have hunted before me? Break my curse?" the male uttered.

"I knew you were strong, so I didn't have much hope of using them. Taking you back alive to stand trial for all the things you've done is a tall order," Kagome grunted, lower stomach clenching. She quietly hissed. Cycle blood likely marred her trousers now.

"Indeed. Even if you shot me with one of your infamous jewels though, it would not work."

A figure bent down, twisting through the front door with the ease of a feline through bars. Sleek silver fur gleamed with a fiery hue, bathed in the hearth's orange light.

Saliva dripped from exposed canines, muzzle pulled back.

The werewolf towered over her in size. He had the look of a distorted wolf- pale torso resembling a man due to broad shoulders and defined abdomen. He shifted to stand upright, hind legs strong, capable of supporting his weight. Thick hackles rose, paws more akin to hands tipped with killer claws.

Unlike the other beasts she'd faced, this one had peculiar red markings slashing over his cheeks, lower legs and flank. Glowing red eyes burned with the heat of the sun.

"You unknowingly came in search of a Pure Blood. I cannot be 'fixed' little hunter. This is how I was born," he purred, mouth unmoving, whispering honeyed words in her mind.

Those eyes strayed down to her legs, nostrils flaring. "And you are in heat, no less. A fine time to go hunting for a predator."

Kagome shivered, raising her pistol and aiming it between his eyes.

The werewolf gazed at her calmly, completely different from the wild, almost rabid beasts she'd fought with before.

A Pure Blood…

She'd never come across a creature so ancient. He looked at her with intelligence, as she'd suspected from tracking him.

"I-I'm not in heat," she muttered, finger grazing the trigger without pulling it. Why wasn't he attacking?

"You hurt those townspeople. Why?"

"I walk among men in my other form. Occasionally I find those deserving of death. Those who harm their cubs and mates. Those who leech of their pack and drink themselves into violent stupors. Sometimes they simply get in my way."

Kagome grit her teeth, "so you dispense justice alone? I don't disagree with cruel people deserving some kind of consequences but you don't get to decide who lives and dies. That's playing God."

He chuckled inside her mind, mouth pulling back from sharp teeth in an imitation of a smile. "Is what you do so different, little hunter?"

"I follow the orders of my superiors- unless I think someone can be saved with the jewels I bless."

Interest brightened his gaze, tail swishing once behind him.

Her only warning.

The beast knocked her arms to one side, striking her down with a headbutt to her chest. The action sent her gun skittering away over dusty floorboards, disappearing into harsh shadows. One human-like forepaw pressed down on Kagome's stomach, making her breath wheeze free from frozen lungs- his other holding her right arm down to keep her pinned. He then leaned in close, white ears perked atop his head.

A white maw drifted over her startled face, nostrils flaring, inhaling her scent greedily.

"Holy powers…" he uttered thoughtfully.

Kagome's left hand fumbled with the hem of her shirt, eyes narrowing. "I'm a former sister of the church. It comes in handy when dealing with creatures that go bump in the night."

She abruptly thrust her formally concealed dagger up, aiming it straight for his heart.

Powerful jaws snapped down, locking around her arm- the beast hissing as her blade ran off course but scraped down his neck and shoulder.

Kagome yelped, dagger freezing. Her hand remained free outside of the cage of teeth but she dared not move. Teeth mouthed her arm without breaking the skin, until a particularly sharp canine made a trail of crimson leak down the inside of her wrist.

A large, wet tongue roved, licking and sliding over the length of her elbow and wrist while they lay trapped within the hot cavern of his mouth.

"Now we have both shed blood tonight, little hunter. Are you satisfied?"

Kagome panted, gritting blunt teeth. She glared hotly into large red eyes fixed on her, looming close. From the new proximity, she could now see his seafoam green irises and slit pupils from within the sea of crimson. They dilated the longer she looked.

"You are quite the woman," he rumbled appreciatively. "What name do you go by?"

"K-kagome."

"Hn, I am Sesshoumaru. I thank you for your relentless pursuit of me over these past few months. It was quite flattering."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply before a hiss broke her off. The clenching of her abdomen took up attention for a moment, twisting like a knife in her gut.

"Heat can be painful to go through alone," he acknowledged, teeth slowly easing from her arm, eyes trained on her warningly not to try anything. His slick tongue unwrapped itself from her arm with a trail of saliva. He licked his maw hungrily.

Kagome gripped her sticky arm, glaring from her position on the floor. No bite. Just a nick from his tooth. It wouldn't be enough to curse her. She warily lowered her dagger.

"It's just my monthly cycle. I'm fine...gn…"

"You seem it," he mocked, wolf expression unchanging, though his eyes danced.

His great head lowered, hovering over her groin. His nose drew closer, inhaling over the red patch. His long pink tongue slid out, drawing over it with a lingering lick.

Kagome yelped, forgetting her guns and blades- grasping the dense white fur of his neck. "W-what are you doing?!"

He managed to look suggestive without human features, tipping his head slightly. "As a hunter, it must be difficult to find relief. You are always working, are you not? Chasing evil…" his voice resounded with the finest baritone in her mind, coaxing and soothing, completely at odds with his monstrous appearance. He almost sounded aristocratic. "Fortunately...you happen to lie beneath a beast tonight."

Saliva, warm and dewy, dropped onto her leg in small puddles. Sesshoumaru gazed at her while snaking his tongue out once more, prying it harder between her legs.

Kagome gasped, back-arching, a rush spilling up from her cunt to twist sweet arousal at her core. She viciously clamped down on such a reaction, growling.

"No one gave you permission to take liberties with me, pal!" she drew her knee up, attempting to kick him away.

Sesshoumaru released her arm in favour of grasping her thigh, chuckling while forcing it down. "Why protest?"

Kagome snatched up her dagger again, pressing the hilt against her chest and keeping the point raised outwards.

"Why agree?! Y-you're a…" wide blue eyes flicked over his strange, inhuman body. "I've never- n-not with a werewolf. I'm pretty sure that's breaking some sort of rule. Or law."

"I will not tell a soul."

Her gaze turned flat, fingers shifting over the hilt. "I'm supposed to be killing you. We just tried to kill each other!"

"Hn, keep your friends close and enemies closer, as they say. Allowing them into your bed does not seem like such an extreme, and I find there is always a slight thrill in fighting, is there not?"

It was a night of firsts. Kagome had never experienced anything like it in her five years of hunting. None of her superiors had ever mentioned an intelligent werewolf who could control their transformation and shapeshift at will. The only whisper of it had come from dusty old books stashed away in catacombs. The air in the lonely house felt cold, tickling her skin like a living thing, but the space between Hunter and Werewolf crackled with intensity.

Kagome swallowed, feeling squirmy. She tensed when a wet nose came back up to sniff at her neck. Warm breath fanned over flushed skin as his snout travelled up and down, scenting. It soon buried itself within dark hair, making her gasp. The suggestion of teeth scraped the crown of her head, joined by a pleased, rumbling noise. Goosebumps rose on her exposed skin, blood burning, alight with confused but obvious need.

His alien, paw-like hand ran over her hip and breast, cupping the side of her jaw. The shock of thin fur and monstrous, long fingers tipped with claws should've terrified her. Kagome had fought against such hands for years. Her body held traces of scars where such nails had hooked and dragged into supple flesh.

As it was, when his second stroked her inner thigh, Kagome shuddered. He smelled faintly of clove and damp earth. His movements were deliberate. The inferno of his eyes when they locked with hers shone with hunger- but also curiosity. That mindfulness and clarity of his thoughts was what allowed her to hesitantly touch the hand on her thigh.

It felt too large and gangly to be a human, fur and heat brushing the calloused skin of her palm.

"You can't bite me," she warned, laying the flat of her blade against his neck. "I'll kill you if you do- and that'll instantly free me from the curse."

Sesshoumaru smiled with his eyes.

He forced her down again, claws making quick work of her pants, tearing a sizable hole at the crotch.

The wiry fur of his muzzle immediately dived down, fervently taking in her scent with hearty, eager inhales. It sent a rush of arousal straight through her, hips jolting.

Nose, teeth and tongue soon brushed her sex, before the latter thrust inside, heedless of the blood.

Kagome cried out, toes curling, going completely still. The invasive probing between her legs filled her entrance, sinking deeper. It then flicked outside, allowing her to feel the velvet rough texture. It swirled experimentally over her clit.

Shakily tightening her now slippery grip on the dagger, Kagome gasped and shuddered.

"I-I thought you were going to transform into a man-!"

Sesshoumaru gave a rumbling noise in response. He gripped the front of her blouse, yanking to rip it open and fondle her breast.

"You do not wish to see the creature you've hunted feasting on you?" the rumbling purr lifted into something darkly amused, tail flicking behind him.

He grabbed her hips, swivelling them to flip her over. Kagome yelped and snarled, about to protest when his palms kneaded her ass, raising it and tearing off the remainder of her pants- the pads of his thumbs dragging to her sex, spreading slick folds and delving a warm, thick tongue inside her all the deeper.

Kagome kept a needless grip on the dagger, a strangled noise caught in her throat. His muzzle nudged and pried, urging her to rock against his tongue. Feeling warm, she clumsily grasped at her coat, yanking her arms free and tossing it aside.

Full breasts were squashed to the floor under the weight of the werewolf as he pressed her down, but her nipples- stiff and hardened with pleasure- received friction from the steady rhythm. The pleasure came in small, electric bursts.

"Fuck," she groaned, biting her lip. This was wrong. She shouldn't allow this.

A clawed thumb rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs silenced that weak protest. It felt good. So deliciously good. Men scarcely put their mouth on her down there, deeming it 'dirty' or beneath them.

Kagome shivered, pushing back against the roving tongue continually thrusting inside her core, flexibly twisting, rubbing against her inner walls and licking with heinous, grunting noises like she slaked his thirst. They found a kind of rhythm without communicating through words, and an incredible rush built in her stomach- delighted to rock against his mouth.

Bowing her head and trying to concentrate on breathing, Kagome jolted and shamelessly moaned as his movements became more relentless, hungrily collecting evidence of her arousal and cycle onto his tongue.

"W-why-?" she managed out, straining to look at him over her shoulder- the tongue plunging faster in quick delves like he were mining for gold- sharp teeth scraping her entrance, adding rapidly to the throbbing feeling building up in her lower stomach.

Why was he pleasuring her? It didn't align with a wild beasts actions.

Blue eyes glimpsed glowing crimson behind her. With a sudden push of his humanoid paw on her back, trapping her in place- Kagome squealed loudly as Sesshoumaru pried so deep he wore her like a puppet with his tongue, grunting with savage satisfaction when she came from the action.

"Agh!" Kagome cried out, body igniting, juices immediately flowing into his mouth, which he collected enthusiastically with broad strokes. Somewhere between all this, she lost grip on her weapon. The blade clanked against the floors loudly.

After pulling away, the werewolf paid no heed to the red staining his lips, licking at his jaw in a decadent, gluttonous manner.

"Why what?" Sesshoumaru sat back on his haunches, ears perking, haughtily eyeing her with an air of pride. He probably took great pleasure in reducing a hunter to such a vulnerable mess.

Kagome felt like she'd received her answer. "Never mind," she caught her breath, forehead dotted with sweat. Her muscles burned despite the lack of physical exertion, body feverishly warm.

She sat up slowly, wincing at the slick feeling of her cunt. It fluttered and clenched, demanding more- wanting to be filled.

"I feel better now. We can end things there and-"

Kagome caught an eyeful of his crotch, entranced by the hard evidence of his arousal.

Oh.

She swallowed, reading the look in his eye easily. They wouldn't be stopping anytime soon. From the look of his long, thick cock, they'd be spending a while easing it in if he were committed to pleasuring her.

Somehow she felt alright with that. The fever in her veins wasn't satisfied yet, though she had reservations about allowing a literal werewolf to take her. However something undeniable had come to life in the pit of her gut, something raw and hot that left her wet between her legs and wordlessly begging.

Sesshoumaru's claws closed around her ankle, dragging her towards him- her ass coming to meet his twitching cock.

"I do not think you have unwound nearly enough. You must expel all pent up frustrations if you are to continue hunting me. I worry you will fall behind if not- your tracking has become sloppy lately."

Kagome whipped her head up and growled- just as the head of his cock nestled at her entrance, cutting off the noise and sending it choking. Blushing, she reached behind her, spreading herself for him- holding herself open while Sesshoumaru gave that jagged flash of teeth in response, slipping his thick length inside her inch by inch.

Whimpering and dropping her hands, Kagome bowed forward, trying to adjust. He sank even deeper. The sheer slickness between her thighs helped but didn't assuage the terrible stretch that threatened to overwhelm her. He was too big, his large and hairy body towering over hers, encasing her back with the furnace heat of his body.

"Ease yourself back against me- slowly," panting breath fanned over her damp neck. She felt him run an almost affectionate feeling lick up the sensitive shell of her ear. "Relax. This body was built to withstand many things," his palm stroked a path over her navel, circling up her hip where a scar lay. "You will not allow me to dominate you so easily, will you, Kagome?"

Panting, Kagome tried to get used to feeling every inch of him inside her, filling her clenching walls to the brim.

His hands were three times the size of hers, one settling beside her on the floor. The way he loomed over her made the formally fearless woman feel small, crushable.

"H-ha! As if," she shakily replied. Not one to give in, Kagome did as instructed, slowly rocking back against him just like before. She winced. The sensation was much fuller and tighter, uncomfortable.

Sesshoumaru hissed and groaned, rubbing at her clit again to shoot tiny bursts of fireworks through her system. It helped coax some pleasure back into things. Kagome gave a shaky moan.

Sensing her change in enjoyment, the wolf began moving.

She cried out, wincing a little at his slight withdraw- before groaning as he eased back in, creating a slow, building pace.

The thick, soft fur that covered him from crown to foot gleamed in the light of the room. Kagome could feel it hot against her back, tickling her skin. The strands began to stick to flushed flesh. Sweat began to bead, rolling down her shoulder blades.

"You take me very well, for a human," Sesshoumaru nosed at her hair.

"I can't say 'taking a cock' nicely is the highest compliment ever, but- thanks," Kagome panted. He gave an amused huff, giving a hard thrust in response that knocked her forward.

Yelping, she grabbed onto the first available thing. Her breath caught when her fingers met soft, warm fur. His arm.

It felt sturdy amidst the sea of sensations. Kagome held tighter onto it, bracing herself. She could sense the control beginning to slip from her new bedmate.

Sesshoumaru growled ferally, fanning hot, sticky breath over her shoulders. He then slammed inside her- ramming his hard cock completely within.

Letting out a loud, startled cry that bordered on a scream, Kagome bit down on his arm. He set a brutal pace, thrusting his cock with a quickness that blinded her. She squeezed her eyes shut so tight stars burst behind her eyelids.

Strands of dark hair stuck to her forehead, the rest bouncing and swaying with the werewolf's chosen pace: hard and merciless.

She sank her teeth harder into Sesshoumaru's arm, but he was completely silent inside her mind now. Whatever debonair and lofty charm he possessed had been shoved far back into the recesses of his consciousness, replaced with raw primal need and heavy grunts. He sought to fuck, and Kagome found herself mewling receptively, weakly rocking back against him.

With a snarl, he yanked his arm free from her teeth- rearing back onto his haunches and dragging Kagome with him, holding her hips while continually rutting into her.

Kagome went completely speechless in both pain and pleasure. The new angle nestled onto his lap with the steel band of his arms wrapped around her waist allowed him to reach new depths.

Letting out mindless moans, she rested her head back against his furry shoulder, body ablaze, cunt squeezing him deliciously. The arms holding her prisoner forced her to meet each thrust, creating an intense friction inside that brought her into a state of begging. "P-please- more. Fuck-! More, I'm so close, please!"

Sesshoumaru gave guttural snarls and rumbles in response. But there was something strange happening with his cock. She could feel it even while held under the haze of pleasure. Nudging up against her entrance, something thicker than his length and more rounded threatened to push inside. His knot.

Kagome couldn't react- distracted by another orgasm ripping through her at the most inopportune time.

The knot swelled and stretched her sex farther than she'd anticipated. With a jolt of his hips, Sesshoumaru followed her into orgasm, throwing his head back in a deafening snarl. A torrent of cum flooded her, painting her inner walls- all locked in by the werewolf's knot.

Kagome jolted and strained, mouth opening in a wordless scream. Full. She felt too full. Her sex strained, still squeezing him like a vice.

Slowly, his voice drifted back into her head. "Very good...worthy female...powerful. Should claim..."

"S-sesshoumaru?" she croaked weakly, limp in his arms.

A silver muzzle nuzzled the side of her head in response, crooning lowly. "Hn?"

"You uh..." Kagome panted, giving a weak gesture of her wrist, trying to rise and finding it impossible. He was quite literally locked inside her. "You knotted me- shouldn't you have pulled out?"

She wasn't concerned about being pupped- she'd handled dodging pregnancy with herbal aid before. However, like this, it made moving away impossible.

"Why would this one do that?"

Blue eyes blinked, shifting up to him. His fur plastering against her skin felt like a feathery bed cushioning her spine. "Because now we're stuck, for who knows how long. A few minutes to 30. I figured you'd..."

Want to get away. Re-establish our roles as enemies.

He acted the same as always. She couldn't anticipate his movements or read him.

A sinuous tongue she'd now become intimately acquainted with slid up her cheek. The fur receded at her back, and Kagome stiffened with alarm.

When she turned slightly, she found herself gazing at the pale, handsome features of a man. His markings remained, branding him as something inhuman despite the skin, pretty fall of hair and stern sweep of his brow.

"I intend to have you many times," Sesshoumaru uttered out loud, sounding much crisper in the quiet room. "In a multitude of ways."

Kagome opened her mouth to reply, gasping when a tongue thrust inside her mouth. Grunting, she managed to return the dominating press of tongue and teeth, biting his lip for good measure and feeling him shiver.

When he began moving again while locked inside her, she fell into the murky waters of arousal once more.

-----

The morning sunlight peeking through the broken blinds brought many aches and pains with it. Kagome heard the front door shut, footsteps drawing away before falling silent.

Sitting up quickly, a fur throw fell from her shoulders. It pooled in her lap, revealing the full extent of fresh scratches and claw marks littering her nude body, along with bruises.

She winced at the stickiness between her legs. The smell of sex overwhelmed the stuffy room. So it wasn't a dream.

Noticing a steaming mug of green tea sitting before the lit fireplace loaded with newly chopped wood, Kagome tentatively reached out to touch it. Still warm.

He must've just left.

Running her hands up and down her flesh, she found no bite marks. He'd stayed true to his word.

Feeling a little complicated, Kagome blinked upon noticing a letter sitting atop a fresh change of clothes on the armchair. Her weapons were also neatly arranged nearby.

Picking up the parchment, blue eyes flitted over the message.

'Pursue me once more, my hunter. I enjoyed feasting on you.'

Kagome pressed her lips together. She shook herself a little. This was still the enemy, nothing had changed despite a thoroughly pleasurable night. In the privacy of the room however, she allowed herself a small smile.

After eating, washing and dressing for the day, Kagome stepped outside.

Securing her weapons, she gave chase.

End

[elriell]

A little compilation of the amazing parallels, between former books and ACOSF, these are just a handful of the amazing throwback mentions Sarah gave us of Elriel.

A massive reason why I think Elain and Azriel will be telling their story next is that SJM is bringing back a lot of their important moments, to remind you of how far they have come and how much further they will go!

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

She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

*

Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." [...] The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. "It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box.

*

A low snarl slipped out of him— “Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.” Lucien cut him a glare.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.

*

“I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

*

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

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

*

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor. I doubted it. Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars.

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

*

“Azriel won. His one-hundred-ninety-ninth victory, apparently.”

Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger. He offered her a grim smile. "I lost the snowball fight today."

*

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

The river house had finally fallen quiet after the raucous Winter Solstice party, the faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow of the longest night of the year. Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs. [...]

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

*

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

*

“Mor whirled on Azriel. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel held her gaze unflinchingly. Didn’t so much as rustle his wings. “Because you would have tried to stop it. And we can’t afford to lose Keir’s alliance—and face the threat of Eris.”

 Lucien, as Beron's son, has the right to demand it of you.""I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. "I know." Rhys's eyes flickered. "And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but also with the Sprint Court and Jurian and Vassa."

*

Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”

*

“You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. 

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

*

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you . . .”

*

The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel’s head dipped a bit—his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin. Mor gave no indication that she noticed and curved her fingers toward me.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

*

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.

[...] Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway.”

*

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks.

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.

There are so many more feel free to add them! ♡