3 Random Old Animations Im Probably Not Gonna Finish Any Time Soon ;w;

3 random old animations im probably not gonna finish any time soon ;w;

4.

Some mentions of nudity, fyi.

Okay, so…yeah. An elf. He’s a giant elf, as are the others, and they’re ridiculously powerful shape-shifters and…not magicians, but…wizards isn’t quite right, either. Magic…magi, no…Mages, that’s it! They’re like mages in stories. How that is possible while also being aliens in flying sauces…uh. Saucers, that’s it. I honestly don’t know. I haven’t pieced it all together yet, but it’s amazing what you can learn when you keep your head down and your mouth shut.

He-they, actually, like to dress us up and show us off, at least those who are lucky enough to have masters and mistresses. It sickens me, but as pets, we are basically slaves, and the elven giants own us, in body, and in mind, for the most part.

Anyway, so there was a reason why elves and other myths had survived in our folklore for so long, and not in just one continent, but all over. We gave them different names depending on whether we worshipped them as gods, or feared them as demons, or tried to get along with and appeased them as spirits of nature. They have come and gone many times over the years.

Our development intrigued them, but I guess our current evolution was unforeseen, if not threatening. They knew we had discovered gunpowder, electricity, and vaccines. We could fly. We could explore the oceans. We could share info with pretty much anyone whenever we wanted. Was it that we made nuclear weapons that made them ensnare and cull us like wayward cattle? Or the fact that we’re going to walk on M…dang it, the Red planet, whatever it’s called.

In the past, these beings appeared to us in many forms, also. They were tiny, or huge, or invisible, etc. That was all thanks to magic, which looks something they’re born with and hone, depending whatever aptitude they have.

Apparently, my…no. I will never call him Master, not even here. He must be somewhat younger, compared to many others. That’s why he was so fascinated with snow. He’s never seen it before. He’s also very powerful, and has some pull in rank in spite of his age, whatever it is. Every being has different talents, I guess. So far, I’ve only seen him heal me and perform other minor tricks. The others treat him with a kind of reverence, like a leader, but he isn’t one. I’d ask him, but I’m afraid of how he’ll react if he really knew how observant I am. For now, I have to remain his favorite. That’s a slightly better term than pet.

Anyway, apparently elf is his favorite word in our language.

“I knew that word would survive!” he said, downright gleeful. “I promised them it would!” He covered his mouth with his fingers as a laugh bubbled out of him. “Although your pronunciation is a little different.”

At least I seem to amuse him rather easily. I haven’t seen him lose his temper yet. I hope I never do, to be honest.

He looked at me with joy, but his face fell. At the same time I suddenly didn’t feel so good.

“Oh, Dare’,” he said just as I doubled over and threw up all over the place, myself included. I tried to fight the long fingers that surrounded me but was quickly overpowered. He removed the now-stained cloth and it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I held onto that cloth for dear life, but he shushed me again and tore it away despite my protests. He paused for a moment, then seemed to get an idea.

“Fool, I am,” he muttered, scooping me up. He waved his hand over the tiny stain on his bed and it vanished. “So sorry. You are not yet fully healed, myne heart.”

He moved with me so fast the air gusted all around me. With another rather complex wiggle of fingers he created a container and filled it with water, which I saw was already steaming.

“What? Your heart?” I cried, but my voice was weak. “What heart, you monster?! Put me down!”

“I cannot, sweeting, lest you become ill once more.”

“Huh?!”

He ducked his head, sheepish.

“T’is my touch that keeps the pain at bay, Dare’. The…ah, magick, I think you call it, is what’s healing you so quickly. Else you’d still be in a deep sleep.”

I moaned, but realized I didn’t want to…what’s the word…oh. Puke. Not anymore.

“Still not my name…” I said. “If you keep calling me that, I’m going to call you Dumbass. How’s that?”

He chuckled like a parent when their child does something outrageous yet adorable.

“I fear being mute is not one of my strong suits,” he replied. He stuck a finger into the warm water. I was still too weak to move, so I lay in his palm, legs sticking out as he slid his wet finger over me. Somehow the water temperature was just right.

“You don’t say…” I muttered, then realized that his definition of dumb was the original, not the current. “Actually, Stupid Idiot does sound better, anyway.”

He grumbled, “T’is better than Monster, I’ll grant you, but I suppose…we deserve that title, and worse.”

He meant The Arrival, as I’ve been calling it. As soon as I realized what he was talking about, I got sick again. He shushed me again and made all sorts of comforting noises. He continued to bathe me like that, in silence, with just his fingers. How I despised him for seeming to know what felt good to me. The yuck all just seemed to disintegrate as he washed me, dripping water to rinse out my hair and stroking me, turning me over as he did so. It was like I was a baby bird he’d found and brought home with him to nurse back to health.

“I do not understand,” he said after a long moment. “You have no injuries on your body anymore, yet you are ill. Why?”

His troubled gaze seemed sincere. Did he really not know?

“Gee, I don’t know,” I mumbled. My sarcasm was thicker than pea… butt…er. Peanut butter! Dang, I can’t believe I had to think about that one. “I guess PTSD is a foreign concept to you,” I said.

“Pity Yes Dee?”

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” I rattled off automatically, then wondered why I knew that but not my real name.

“Ah,” he murmured, “I see. I did not grasp how emotions can affect your kind so strongly, even your little bodies.”

What I can’t understand is how trauma can not have that affect on his kind. Or can it, but he just doesn’t get it? Because even animals can be traumatized and have emotional scars for life.

In any case, I was feeling better. I trusted in that he would not harm me, though I will never trust him fully. I still hated him, but I didn’t feel awkward anymore. He was like a doctor in regard to my nudity. Perhaps he was more like a veterinarian, since he sees me as more like an animal, but…if that’s true, why did he kiss me? Or was that not real?

Just as I began wondering about that, I heard him breathe a single word.

“Bellus.”

Suddenly, I felt a very soft, very warm pressure on my back. It was different from his fingers, so I turned to look and saw his face withdrawing, his sculpted mouth still somewhat pouted.

“Did…did you just…?” My voice died away as that pout quickly morphed into a smile.

“Bellus, he whispered, almost to himself. “Quam novis. Hoc est…eros?”

He had that strange look in his eyes again; incredulity and affection and confusion and desire all balled up, and he couldn’t make sense of any of it.

I don’t know what he said, although I recognized Eros: the Greek word for love, the romantic kind, I think. His eyes, heavy-lidded, looked away in sorrow.

“What did I do?” he said, but his hushed tone was more like a statement than a question. “What have you done to me?”

Before I could ask what he was even talking about, he covered his face as though suddenly embarrassed.

“Nay, I cannot,” he muttered. “Foolish thoughts have no place here. You must still need resting, myne heart.”

And with that, he dried me off with more finger wiggling, and wrapped me in a new cloth that came from nowhere.

“Sleep, Dare’,” he said, as he moved back the room we were in before. His bedroom, I guess. “I know you are fearful and…pity essed deed, but I promise we will talk more. Soon.”

I was convinced that there was no way I could possibly sleep, but he touched my forehead again and that was the last thing I saw for days.

I need to go to bed, but here’s a really bad, really quick g/t story with some new ocs

Trigger warning for fearplay?  and the mention of depression?

Keep reading

hello!!

hi everyone!! im new to the gt tumblr community! some of you may know me as ~ cnart12 ~ on deviantart and i love to write g/t stories:)

im planning on using this to make friends and get more involved and write some blurbs and whatnot ((and maybe post some of my drawings))

you know what i fuckin want

lord of the rings g/t  - interactions between hobbits who’ve never seen big folk before and are totally freaked but i dont feel skilled enough to write in the arda universe bc tokien is some good shit and it makes me sad when i see butchered lotr fanfiction 

Posted a sketch of a giant merman on instagram and people seemed to dig it so here are more doodles of a giant merman.