#I usually trance myself to test these

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I almost killed your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich]- Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After the unexpected encounter with Soap and Ghost, your shop finally owns the vibes of peace.

The customers become so ‘normal’, almost feels like you aren’t in the same area as before – if you ignore the blood on their shirts or recall the memory of seeing them punching someone across the street. You assume the men must tell them to behave in your shop, but you must say the minions become a bit overreacting. They call you ma'am, chat as quietly as possible, and one of them even apologizes when he accidentally touches your finger as if you will chop off his pinky. You start doubting if they view you as a secret henchman of 141.

It’s morning now, the shop usually has more people at this time, but you haven’t had a single customer since you opened it 30 minutes ago, they just vanished without any hint, hence you start testing out new recipes for your bread.

Lilting the song that’s fully out of tune, you slice the bread you just baked into pieces, and throw one into your mouth. Perfectly crunchy outside, fluffy like clouds inside. Oh my, you’re such a genius.

You’re totally unaware of your visitor until he stirs the air with a cough and his voice.

“Pardon me?” He calls you again, but you’re left in a trance when you land your eyes on him.

Damn, he looks just like your imagination of the man in the Dilf next door fic you just read yesterday on co5. Your eyes travel from his well-trim beard, south to his belted waist. Why does a man with a toned body – which his khaki coat can’t even hide –  have such a tiny waist? Your mouth's agape at the sight as you’re about to respond.

“mmsadjsmm” The man raises his eyebrow in confusion, and you hear your voice not forming a proper sentence too. Ah, you forgot the bread’s still stuffed in your mouth.

“ehemm, Sorry Sir, I mean what would you like to have?” Quickly swallow the bread and try to pretend you didn’t just dumbfounded in front of him, you speak again.

“English breakfast, please.” He croons with an infatuating smile as he saunters to take a seat. 

His voice is quite soothing, you admit in your mind as you start brewing said man’s tea, just like you presumed the Dilf in the fic… okay, you really should clear those nasty brainrots during work.

The tea is nicely served in the tea cup and brought to the man shortly after.

You can’t help the smile crawling onto your face when you see him grin at you after a sip. You love watching your customer enjoy your tea, and he obviously relaxes with it have you bask in your achievements.

“Don’t finish your breakfast?”

“Just trying a new recipe. I want to add it to my menu.” you reply with a shake of your head, and after a brief halt, you add a question “ Have you eaten breakfast yet, Sir”

“Call me John, love.” The man – John sets his cup on the table before continuing “And no, I haven’t”

“Then… would you like to have a grilled cheese sandwich? I can’t finish the bread myself, it would be great if someone could help me with it... Of course, it isn’t a must!" You hurriedly complement when John widens his eyes slightly at your suggestion, but he meets your eyes with interest within.

”I would love to.”

You beam up as you get the affirmation, and walk behind your counter again.

Slices of bread are already prepared. The pro tip for a delicious grilled cheese sandwich is giving the bread some nice seasoning first, so you pick up your black pepper jar before inquiring about John’s preference.

“How much pepper would you like, John?”

“Would be great if it’s more.”

“Alright.”

You turn back to season the bread, but when you pick up the pepper jar and about to shake it, a question slips into your brain making you pause.

How much is “more”?

The man doesn't have time to sit here and wait for you to contemplate the philosophy of seasoning, so after biting your bottom lip and thinking for 30 seconds, you shake the jar. More is better, you recall what John told you as your hand keeps moving.

You shake it 10 times, since more is better.

Apart from the bread, you hold full confidence in your grilled cheese sandwich. Placing generous amounts of cheese in between, the coveted smell flooded your little shop as you plate the well-toasted sandwich.

“It surely smells great.” John praises before diving in.

You hang a big expecting grin until John takes a bite and starts coughing like you will put him into the ER with a sandwich.

“It’s– it’s okay…love…” He tries to comfort you when you apologize abundantly and rush back to your counter to fill him a cup of water. Holy, isn’t more pepper better? Now you're going to send the man to heaven with a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Here’s water!” You go back to John as fast as you can with the cold water in your hand, you’re busy checking out John, who stops coughing madly but cheeks pink with the spices, and you don’t see the leg of the chair sticking out of its usual place.

A pair of arms catch you from slamming onto the floor, but the cup isn’t that lucky as it flies with Newton’s help and clatters on the floor.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You stabilize yourself in John’s support. But wow,  now the man not only just recovered from a fatal attack to his throat, but also has a wet spot spreading along the chest part of his shirt.

“No worries, love. It’s just a shirt.”

Even though John attempts to calm you, you still can’t help the sheepishness creep to your cheeks and stain it with the same pink as John’s, or stop thinking about if the balance in your bank account is able to buy the man a new shirt. You remember you wanted to get some cash out of the cashpoint but it shoved an ‘insufficient funds :(‘ into your face.

You really don’t want any customers to come in right now, even if it means your little tea shop will close down because you only have one from the start of today, but fate always gifts you things you crave when you don’t need them.

“Sorry boss, I’m late.”

You look at the tan-skinned man standing like a model just escaped from his manager, staring at you shoving a towel on John’s chest and both of your cheeks smeared with suspicious red.

“What happened?”

I almost murdered your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich. Apparently, you can’t answer with this, so you face John for help.

and he’s looking at you too, with a sly smirk awaiting your explanation.

You wonder if you can just make two sandwiches to shut these men up, with one more for yourself to end this predicament now.

a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!

No John Price is harmed in this chapter.

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Mindless and Ready

My step-father stood stiffly in front of me, blankly staring ahead without a single thought in his mind. His body was covered only by his white underwear, and I didn't hesitate to study every inch of that muscular frame. He was usually so reserved about his body.

Moments earlier, I'd made him strip.

Without an expression or any hesitation at all, he set down his beer and stood from the couch, pulling off the heavy material to carelessly drop it. My step-father always wore his tired work clothes late into the night, and this was my first time seeing it off him.

My mind control device had finally arrived. The thing was easy to operate, and once my mom had nodded off, I finally had my chance to test it out on the douchebag she married.

All the thing needed was a sample of his DNA (a strand of hair I plucked off his coat) and a written command for him to follow.

I'd fired up the device up before I got to the living room, and when I found him, his eyes were completely glazed over. He'd been watching TV, sipping another beer, but he didn't seem remotely interested in either of those things anymore.

I nervously stepped right up to him, afraid he might suddenly jump out of the trance and yell at me, but that didn't happen. His heavy body remained limp on the couch as I stood over him. He didn't react when I sat myself on his lap, and he didn't budge when I tentatively groped the muscles beneath all the layers he was wearing. He was all mine, and now the man was standing in front of me in his undies.

My nights were going to be a lot more exciting from this point on. Relaxing into the couch, I kicked my feet up.

"Go get me a beer," I barked after typing the command into the device, "Then get back over here and massage my feet."

I smiled as the stud turned lifelessly and stepped into the kitchen. Though he didn't know it, he was going to spend the rest of the evening pampering me. Later, I would make him have even more fun with me...

[rin-and-jade]

Petrified like Medusa: A Post about Catatonic Dissociation. (more like how catatonia and dissociation work, creating a devastating combo. oof!)

Have you ever got that feeling where you cannot move your limbs, say a word, or even breathe? Do you feel like all your functions had stopped as if it's a statue? Where everything ceases to a halt as your body betrays whilst doing your daily activities? Something else might felt wrong and odd too;

It's not just your imaginary,, it is something real that us, systems sometimes experience. May this post bring you understanding of today's topic!

The difference between catatonia and dissociation

Catatonia is similar to freeze response, the only difference lies on the reason, which is: it is usually a byproduct of something (usually by overwhelm), while freeze activates from stressful situations. Being catatonic means:

Stuck in a position, no matter how uncomfortable or what pose you're at.

Find it hard to execute/keep up with basic actions such as eating, drinking, breathing, or even blinking!

You find yourself actively struggling/fighting against the heavy friction of the unmoving body. Or is absent from any forms of thoughts, seemingly empty inside out.

Stiff, rigid movements, making soft skills harder to perform.

--

Dissociation on the other hand, is an active defense that works by flinging you out from there by any means. Making you feel physically + emotionally detached, and mentally not engaging the situation. It is a veil that blurs the details and such, minimizing as much damage as possible.. it can look like:

The world looking a bit slow, distorted, or unclear.

Tactile sensations and sounds feel toned down and damped.

Your thoughts and movement may or may not get sluggish/lagged.

Memories feels fuzzy, preventing clarity of the situation.

How it affects us, systems..

Catatonic dissociation can happen when we are faced with inevitable, stressful moments. Depending on how bad the situation is,, when you're dissociating, catatonia can slowly creep up on you and petrify everything from top to bottom.. like medusa; This alone can hinder the communication and body coordination in systems.

Luckily, you can be aware of the warning signs soon before it sets in, pay attention to:

Feeling a huge reduction in movement, or have confusion of it.

It's harder to speak clearly, possibly restricting volume or vocals.

You are unbothered when someone is pushing you, for example. And stayed passive/still trying to process what happened.

Finding yourself standing/sitting/etc longer than you'd expect to.

A change in switching patterns, or show clear struggle in attempt.

Things feels like it skipped a beat, and you 'snapped out' every few moments. As if you were put into a trance.

--

Additionally, catatonia-like dissociation can also happen when you are in the middle of the process of a switch, feeling extra blank and unmoving until a new fronter completely took over, too! To minimize discomfort and possible injuries, practice caution by choosing a safe, comfortable spot beforehand.

The takeaway and tips to overcome this:

This episode is temporary, lasting from a few minutes to an hour or two (there might be instances that it will be longer). Frequency is subjective,

There are things that can be done to ease and lesson such discomfort or struggles; starting from planning a tactic for this situation, minimizing current triggers/stressors, finding a spot to lay down/sit although it'll be hard.. so take this step steady, and stay comfortable until it disappears by itself. Grounding techniques could help, though i have not tried them myself, feel free to test the theory.

Lastly, this concludes the end of the post! Thankyou for helping me decide which to do first, so please expect the other one to be out in a few weeks as i go down the rabbit hole, yet again. If you find this interesting, or helpful, or worthy of being shared to other people, i will appreciate every one of you who had read 'til the bottom of the post <3

- j, a very happy one

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.104 Concerns

I woke up thinking about how bummed Sophia was about not being able to go to the beach in Tartosa. I mean, I was too, but it seemed to hit her especially hard. No one else I knew loved the water more than her—not even Yasmine, who declared herself a "water baby." I got a brilliant idea in the shower that was sure to make Sophia happy and presented it to her at breakfast.

"Let's go to the lake in San Sequoia. We can invite my dad and Alessia and make a family day of it."

Her eyes were as bright as Winterfest lights, and I gave myself a pat on the back.

"Yeeees, that's a great idea! Wait, your sister is still here?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's not going back. She wasn't as happy over there as she thought she'd be." I snorted at a new thought. "Plus, she probably met some loser here."

"Luca!"

"What? She's not exactly in the market for quality men right now."

"Still. You haven't met him yet and already labeled him a loser. It isn't nice."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Stop!"

I chuckled and reached for the phone to inform Dad about my plan, but he advised against it. A thunderstorm plagued the area, so once again, the weather dashed our beach plans. But Dad countered and suggested a family movie day instead, so we all braved the storm and headed to Anchorpoint Wharf.

I thought the movie was funny, but Sophia said it bored her, which surprised me, seeing as she was the token goofball of the two of us.

After the movie, we hung out at Dad's house for a bit. Alessia caught us up in her life, and just as I suspected, she had met someone; I knew her so well. Apparently, they met at our party. They were at the bar and noticed they were both doing the exact same thing. She had this weird ritual she did in restaurants where she wiped down glasses, utensils, plates, and whatever her mouth or food touched. He was doing it too, and they locked eyes. The way she talked about this dude was different. Usually, she didn't care to get to know the poor fellas on this roster, and we never got any details about them. But her tone was so giddy it intrigued me. Could he be the one to break down her wall? I knew my dad hoped so. He really wanted to walk her down the aisle.

I realized we hadn't heard from Sophia in a while, so I turned around to check on her. She had droopy eyes and a frown, and everything inside me wanted to panic. But she wouldn't want me to do that in front of them. When I found an appropriate place to make our exit, I took it and ushered her and the dogs back home. Once we made it inside, we settled in the office to talk. It seemed like all our important talks occurred in there recently.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you feeling alright? What can I do??"

She shifted in her seat and looked everywhere except in my eyes, alarming me even more.

"I, umm... I'm concerned."

"About Alessia?"

"About getting pregnant."

My throat tightened, and I swallowed a few times to keep it open.

"Oh..."

Her confession lingered in the air like steam after a shower, and I wasn't sure what to say or do.

"I've taken a pregnancy test every day since the engagement," she said, still not making eye contact with me. "I know these things take time, but... It should have happened by now! My birthday is way too close, Luca. I'm running out of time."

I was in such a weird spot. I wanted to hold her and tell her to keep the faith, but this was bad news for me, too. She wasn't the only one looking forward to bringing a baby into the world. But it was her body going through that, not mine. And as much as it hurt to hear that, I still had a level of detachment she didn't have.

"Is there something we can do?" I asked. "I mean...is there...a test or something for that?"

Finally, she looked at me as if awakening from a trance.

"Yeah, actually. There is." She shook away those sad feelings and sprang into action. "I'll make an appointment right now. I guess I've been too flustered to think straight. I could have done this days ago."

She called her doctor and scheduled an appointment for the next afternoon. When she hung up, I finally embraced her like I wanted to and told her everything would be okay. I didn't know how true that was, but I had to believe it for the both of us.

[thatonebirdwrites]

I had multiple awful things happen all at once in the past few weeks and it trapped me in a fog. This particular chapter also took much longer to edit because it's content is a bit triggering.

Also, some thoughts on how I structured this chapter:

For Rory/Lena's parts: MID 6.0 is a 180 question assessment used for diagnosing various disassociative disorders, including DID. The following are so often reported by patients that they made their way into this assessment:

"Shrinking" or "getting smaller" or "feeling as if the world is getting larger" (child alters).

Feeling foggy, like one melts away or body parts feel as if they vanish for while.

Unable to see or hear with no known medical reason for it.

Writings, drawings, journal entries that you know you did not write/draw.

Black-outs/amnesia, difficulty remembering things, sections of life can't be remembered.

Trance-like episodes.

Losing time and/or not remembering large chunks of time or large chunks of one's childhood.

Disordered sleep or insomnia (often more drawings or writings you didn't draw will appear during this time).

Rich, creative mental spaces.

Protective alters.

And a ton of others. My therapist was kind enough to give it to me as homework to fill out myself to avoid overwhelming me. We then went over it together.

Rory's sections dig into some of the above and that rich inner world. I wanted to contrast her getting tests done with Sam's worldkiller story; I did this by weaving similar descriptions at the end and start of each of their sections. Sort of like a Ghazal, an Arabic poem, where the last word of the a couplet starts the next couplet.

EXCERPT:

If Sam estimated as to when the Reign horror starts, she’d place it the day she sits in traffic, unable to move thanks to the swarming protesters outside L-Corp. Half are protesting the rise in children sick with lead poisoning, falsely attributed to L-Corps water purification units. The others are cultists announcing the end of the world with the partnership of L-Corp and Supergirl.

She knows the lead poisoning has nothing to do with their products. Kara, herself, and Lena had gone over the units and found nothing. They’d even brought in an independent inspector, who deemed the units safe from lead.

Yet Morgan Edge pushes the narrative, and his inspectors continue to find ‘proof’ that its faulty units from L-Corp. In a few days time, Lena plans to hold a press event, and Sam dreads it. She thinks over the data she’s procured, illegally, for Kara that map the distribution of the affected. It’s not enough to prove innocence, but the map shows the impacted don’t align with the roll-out of the units.

Her phone rings. Sam glances down to see Kara’s name. She swipes it and hits speakerphone. “Sam here. What’s up?”

“So I was looking into that map you sent. There’s got to be a pattern, but it seems almost random.” 

“I know, usually when something like this happens, the affected kids are from a certain area, but those kids are from all over the city. Luke, who I saw today at Ruby’s school, lives down the street, but then there’s a few kids who live across the city and go to Bergen County Day…”

“And there’s several who live all the way in Edgemont. So does any of these addresses you found line up with any personal units you sold?”

“Nope, the roll-out happened in neighboring districts. Personal units don’t go on sale until next fiscal year. We focused on the city contract first. I can't see how our units would even leak lead to start, so I think something else connects them. It’s why I want to meet.” Sam scowls at the crowds. “But there’s a traffic jam of protesters. I can’t even get in the parking garage.”

“I want to do a few interviews of the impacted, see if they give us a clue. Something must connect them. Social media, school, bank statements…”

Oh, that gave her an idea. “Bank statements. Follow the money. That often uncovers what’s hidden.” She leans forward and glares at the traffic jam in front of her. She knows exactly what she needs to search. Tricks she learned from Jack when it came to investigating financial fraud. “But I need more time to dig that up.”

“You sure you can’t talk her out of it?” 

“Believe me, I tried. She’s been…” Sam is reluctant to admit that Lena has been rapidly cycling between at least four alters, and her mental state has disintegrated. “I’m going to have her stay at my place for the next few days. I just don’t think she should be alone right now.”

“Don’t worry. We can tag team this. I’ll see you in a bit. Oh, and there’s a parking spot next street over.” Kara hangs up before Sam can respond. 

Sure enough, when Sam turns onto the next street, she sees several open spots. Pulling into them, she parks, and hurries through the intersection. Darting through the crowds, she nears the front of the building when a cultist slams into her side. She stumbles and falls against the pavement. Pain flares up her arm near where he touched her.

“Pardon,” the man says with a smile. His grey eyes roam over Sam’s body, and she feels like she’s being dissected. Gross. His hands hide in the sleeves of his black cloak, but he extends one to offer her a pamphlet. “Ah, it is a joy to finally meet you, Samantha Arias.”

Sam stares at him. She’s never seen the man in her life. 

He holds out his hand. “I have followed your rise. You too have been touched by the stars. Just as our resident hero.” 

What the hell? She pushes to her feet and tries to push past him, but several other cultists block her way. She’s surrounded. “Please move out of the way. You have the wrong person.” 

“Do we?” The man leers closer, his blue-grey eyes focused on her face, and his smile smarmy at best. “We have long sought you. But not even Patricia Arias could hide you for long.” He holds out a pamphlet and grins. 

A chill swept down Sam’s spine. What the hell did a creepy cultist have to do with her? Maybe she should check on her mother after all. At least to make sure she has some security, because yeah, her mother may not give a shit about her, but Sam can’t do the same. 

“You have the wrong person,” she snaps through gritted teeth. That seems safest at least until she can figure out how the hell this random cultist knows who she is. She jerks away from him and pushes forward. 

Several other cultists block her path. The sweat from their thick robes emit a nasty odor Sam did not need to smell. Hint of claustrophobia starts to sizzle down her spine, and the need to get out amplifies. The shouts from the protesters, plus the soft murmurs of a chant from the cultists ripple through Sam’s ears. 

That’s when a cultist grabs her arm, and her arm burns like she’d been stabbed. Shit. She needs to get away and fast. 

“Move it!” She uses an Aikido move to break free and spin the cultist into another. Darting through the opening, she shoulder bumps a third out of her way and finally bursts free to the front of L-Corp. Security guards rush out finally and start to push the crowd back.

[hhoneycloves]

and one more for tonight:

I want to be the image that pops into yall's head when you hear ""maladaptive daydreamer."" "Oh isn't that honeycloves guy one of those. He spends hours daily basically larping in his head." I want the people who interact with me to Know. And more importantly, Understand.

I want to talk about how it's been affecting me lately. because it's strange. it's something i didn't realize affected me until rather recently.

Long, long ramble, Throwing it under the cut for those interested in hearing what my tired ass has to say. There is also a TL;DR at the bottom.

sometimes i don't really realize how much i do. how often i seek to avoid mirrors or my reflection because i know I'll see myself. That freakish, imperfect creature with the Problems. it's a vestigial comfort I developed years ago to escape a horrid reality, but now it basically just puts me in Compulsory Roleplay Mode half the time.

And it's been very strange and difficult being like this when I'm not in my own home.

It took me a solid 3 hours to fully process the fact that. today. I came home and put on my Soul outfit. I only just woke up from a nap and realized, holding this plush chicken:

oh god the mental illness got me again 🪦

and The Embarrassment hit me like a truck. God damn. You let yourself stay in that delusional, trance-like state of only being partially yourself for that long? in pseudo-public? AND you muscle-memory'd your way into a closet cosplay for it?

I understand that it causes no physical harn to me, with the biggest detriment being that it causes me to waste valuable time and energy, and that it's very comfortable and safe-feeling to do. But it's more comfortable in one's own space. I've barely been able to make space for myself in the past 3 months. Thus, I've been feeling notably increased feelings of Guilt and Hesitation towards existing in the daydream state.

It would please me to be called Soul for an hour. Even if it's only just once or in passing. But that is a LOT to ask of anyone, especially of those who are caring for you purely out of the goodness of their hearts. Especially of your partner, who has enough going on. It's a lot on others to basically be forced to roleplay with you because of your daydreams. Hence why I crave so much to go back to my house and the safety of my room where I can be Every Character in the story and speak their lines aloud in their voices and turn my music up above 20% volume and not be forced to explain or worry about being heard or judged.

I'm definitely too old to be ill to this extent. it's escapism by every definition. I see it happen when I'm overwhelmed and stressed. I shut down and open my sketchbook and stop being me. Because the Problem is for Noah to deal with. I retreat and move forward as somebody else. Even though I know It's still just Me. This behavior is frankly so ubiquitous to my existence that I likely haven't perceived all the detriment it does yet.

However, sometimes [but not often], it has it's benefits, strangely? Looking at something from the perspective of a different character, whether existing fictional or an OC, sometimes helps me consider a situation in a way I wouldn't usually. How would X do this? How would Y think about this situation? How would Z act if this happened to them?

It also. Y'know. Helps me as a storybuilder. And more recently as a writer. I think my stagnation on this chapter recently has been tied to my hesitation to Be Heart. to Think like him. To go act him out for a few hours, test the waters, see how he would react In Real Time, on the spot. It's not something I can consider passively. All of the other chapters [i do have existing finished chapters! I'm building a buffer!] were spurred by daydreaming Before I wrote them.

In conclusion/TL;DR sorta, because I Need To Go To Bed:

i have an interesting little Condition, maladaptive daydreaming. I feel kind of Awful about when I do it, but it's a sort of escapism addiction left over from past trauma. It's been difficult living with it recently because I'm not at home. I want to go home so I can go back to daydreaming safely. it has it's pros and cons in my personal life, many of which I probably don't even know about.

[shatteredkelidascope]

Astral Travel Beginners Class

Ok so to start off this is teaching from experience Wich means entirely based on who you are and what's going on it may or may not work for you.

That being said, here's what I do to astral project and how I know I did. As well as the foundations of my practice

Blue words will have explanations or sources on how to accomplish the task or what it even is, some times both. If you want to just skip what I have to say and use the sources to build your own form be my guest!

Basic fundamental beliefs for this to work

Everything has energy

Energy cannot be destroyed or created only repurposed (law of conservation of energy)

There is something bigger guiding us ie universe, gods, etc; some one something out there exists

The meridian lines exist as to energy points in the body

You can astral travel

Belife in basic science

So step one is to body scan, Wich is basically to me...you sit down and do some breathwork listen to your gut/intuition/inner guidance and see with your minds eye what you're feeling, where, and why?

Let's start with

Breathwork

I use an app called breathe hold breathe or listen to YouTube videos personally I find this helps me move forward with my eyes shut as I listen to audio cues to breathe or hold.

Warning! Start from the beginning do not jump into breathe of fire you could seriously injure yourself if you don't have strong enough lungs or the right guidance ie triggering panic attacks or asthma

Getting in touch with gut/inner guidance

How I do this myself is usually eft, yoga, sound bowls (beforehand prep) or I spend more time with my spiritual family by making offerings, writing letters, or using divination to chat. (As well as studying them and researching the Grek Pantheon, I feel closer to them that way, so try to do what makes you feel more connected to your spiritual team or your higher self/ inner self)

Seeing with the minds eye.

Something I'll usually always reference for beginners is practicing the apple test for Aphantasia. Practicing visualization methods and working your mental muscles is a great way to begin prep for astral travel.

and remember it doesn't take more than a couple minutes so you can do a warm up before even sitting down for the body scan.

The Body Scan

After youre finished with your prep wether you feel it or not, press on to the next step, the body scan.

You could be stuck in a rut that the body scan will free you from once you find the source of your stress and or restrictions.

Short list of questions I'll ask during a body scan.

Where do I feel this? (Pinpointing the location of where the energy stems from)

What am I feeling? (Light, tingly, heavy, hurting, happy, sad, all possible descriptors, an emotion or a sense)

Why do I feel this (this one's harder to if you get stuck on it, try EFT (emotional freedome technique) or Yoga before continuing. This is to open the meridian lines in your body and get energy flowing)

Usually after all the prep I'm ready to go so...

Once you do the body scan and all the pre requisites, you ley or sit down in a safe comfortable place and imo you should follow a guided meditation like this one to start!

Then move on to wordless meditation music (pace yourself and start with 5 not 10 minutes if need be, that's where I began) using things like sound bowls or Shamanic drums if you want something more intense.

(Warning that drumming can be very effective but not really for beginners, still it doesn't take long once you learn the basics so shoot your shot if you feel pulled to it)

You also want to keep in mind that having a spiritual team prior to doing this is a good idea for protection against whatever is out there. Though if course you can ward yourself. You at least want some energetic line or connection be it elemental or divine or something else! Just be sure it's spiritual in nature because for this to work you combine spiritual, physical, and mental worlds before crossing them.

Now this meathod is also based in science so I have a lot more confidence going in, that's kinda the point of it is that you have the confidence to believe it. And if you don't have the confidence to believe anything anymore or maybe you confidently believe in nothing, I'd suggest a philosophy class, that's what I did to get out of my spiritual rut and what I am doing now (thanks to Lord Zeus and My Beloved @discountprophet )

If you want to verify that what you did or saw was real, then study. Study by researching what's around you by looking up your questions by double checking sources, I'm giving you some today to look into so you can launch off on your own here and now.

You have to find what YOU believe or none of it will work because you'll be doubting it the entire time. Or maybe you'll visualize, maybe you'll travel but you'll do so lopsided and constantly questioning every step of the way. Take it from me that's not fun. Or you go lopsided in the other direction and never leave the first layer ie you never leave your headspace because you're too focused on what your minds eye is seeing when your minds eye should be treated as a tool not a crutch.

You can also use divination such as scrying, tarot or bone tossing, etc. To clear up information and get more reassurance after you've done the work.

Blue Text Check In

Body scan

Breathwork

Minds eye

Inner guidance

Energy Points

Eft

Aphantasia

Body scan:

Breathwork:

Minds eye: essentially your ability to visualize

So visualization:

Inner guidance is something strengthened by balancing your Chakras/Energy points in my experience.

So Energy Points and how to connect with them:

You want to focus on root, third eye, and crown for astral travel but all should be balanced before setting out to ensure safe meaningful travels.

Eft:

Aphantasia:

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Midnight Swan

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason doesn't die in the explosion in this AU, BUT he does team up with Kate Kane in this.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Kate Kane, Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: Jason Todd Survives The Explosion, POV Jason Todd, Angst, Secrets

Chapter Four: Broken

Around eight, I came downstairs to eat a snack, and Kate stood in the kitchen, eating a slice of pie. "Hey, Cousin," Kate grinned. Bruce poured a glass of milk.

"Jason, this is Kate," Bruce introduced. I shook her hand. "Kate, this is Jason."

I grabbed leftovers from dinner and put them in the microwave. "Nice to meet you," I replied. Kate stared at me like she did that night in the sewers. Not with pity or sympathy. No. She was intrigued.

"I was talking to Bruce about an MMA fight in Gotham at the end of May... He can't go with me, but if you're interested, you can come with me," Kate offered. I nodded as she flashed the tickets. "I thought so. It's not gonna interfere with school, is it?"

Bruce shook his head. "If he wants to go, that's fine with me," Bruce replied. Kate messed up my hair. I wasn't sure what she was playing at, but I felt she was testing me. Bruce seemed drained. He was pale and sullen, more so than usual. Bruce kissed the top of my head and excused himself for the night after finishing his glass of milk. I knew where he was going, so I didn't ask. Bruce felt uncomfortable mentioning patrol to me after forcing me out of my position as Robin. The manor felt like a mortuary at night. Quiet. Cold. Lifeless.

Kate placed a hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of a trance-like state. "You okay, Kid?" Kate asked. I nodded. "You were out for a minute there."

The microwave beeped, and I pulled my leftovers out. "Yeah, I was just thinking," I mumbled.

"Want me to stick around?" Kate asked. I nodded.

"Sure," I shrugged. I didn't want her to know I didn't want to be alone. Kate finished her pie and looked in the fridge for more leftovers. "What are you doing?"

"What's got your stomach all in knots?" Kate questioned. I didn't feel like joking around. I wanted to know what her game was. I wondered if she'd already told Bruce everything. "Jason, you've gotta stop thinking everyone is out to get you. It's written all over your face."

"It'd be easier to trust you if I knew what you wanted with me," I replied. Kate looked into my eyes and messed up my hair.

"I want you to be okay... And I feel like you're gonna end up dead if someone doesn't try to help you," Kate confessed. I knew she was right. "I'll explain everything later on."

I nodded, and I led her to the living room. I told her I'd be back. I grabbed a blanket from the hall closet. I curled up on one side of the couch while Kate turned something on. I didn't want to sleep. The nightmares were so much worse when Bruce wasn't home. I closed my eyes and let the tv's white noise pull me from consciousness.

I was in a hall of mirrors, but every version of my reflection was a different mangled picture of myself. Everywhere I turned, I ran into another mirror. There was no escape. I screamed, but no sound came out, and the mirrors started closing in, forcing me to look at myself with various forms of injury. The mirrors pressed against my skin, squeezing me until I felt I couldn't breathe, and then the glass shattered all around me, sounding off like thunder and wind chimes. It made my skin tingle until that forced me out of my sleep and into a waking panic attack.

I felt my arms, legs, and face as I gasped for air. There weren't any cuts on my skin, but I still felt as if I was there. "It's Kate. You're with Kate," Kate reassured me as she took my hand. "Try to squeeze my hand..." I swatted her hand away and pressed my palms into my eyelids.

I didn't want to start crying in front of Kate, but I almost always teared up when my nightmares were that intense. "I know you'd probably rather be alone, but I don't think that's helping... Jason, if you reach out, I promise I won't let you down," Kate whispered. I took her hand and squeezed it, and I caught my breath. "We good?"

I opened my eyes and nodded. "We're okay," I whispered back. Kate didn't break eye contact until she knew I was calm. I lay down and stared at the tv until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I heard the faint sound of voices in the background, but none of that was my concern. Not for the moment, anyway. I only slept for a few hours at a time in the manor.

When I woke up again, I was alone. I didn't expect Kate to stick around the whole time, but I did feel a chill in the manor once I realized I was alone. I would've liked to join Bruce in the cave, but I no longer felt welcome. I thought Kate would be there, and eventually, my curiosity got the best of me. I shuffled down to the cave and met eyes with a wide-eyed boy wonder replacement as he changed into his civvies. "I—."

"Where is he?" I interrupted. I was so filled with rage that I was shaking. Bruce rushed to meet with me, but my eyes never left the boy wearing my cape.

"Jason, please—."

"I'm broken... Useless... Pathetic. Your biggest failure. Aren't I? That's why you replaced me. And you lied about it! Well, you don't have to worry about tiptoeing around me anymore," I snapped, "I'm outta here." Before Bruce could say anything else, I left him and the new kid in the cave and went to my room to pack a bag. The tears came against my will, sliding down my warm cheeks as I gathered my things and absconded out the window.

I didn't want to come back. I wanted Bruce to know he'd hurt me and that I hated him for it. I didn't care how dramatic it seemed at the time. He wounded me in the exact way I feared he would. He confirmed my feelings of inadequacy. I was broken and beyond fixing. At first, I wandered the streets of Gotham, feeling alone and discarded, until I got a call on my cell. "Tell me where you are. Let me come and get you," Kate commanded.

"Why bother?" I replied.

"You can't be out there by yourself all night. I'm coming to get you," Kate replied. Her voice was serious.

I told her where I was, and she told me to wait there. I sat at the bus stop. Kate pulled up and let me in the car. "Are you gonna take me back there?" I asked.

Kate shook her head. "He didn't tell you about the other Robin, didn't he?" Kate questioned.

"No," I answered. My voice broke, and I hid my face in my hands. Kate rested a heavy hand on my neck to comfort me.

[bruinescence]

@enrhysmion cont.

The amusement in the other's tone was not lost on him, but he could hardly fault anyone for finding the fact that he indulged in... certain forms of nature's bounties as deserving of a chuckle. Though he pondered often during his nightly trances on if a druid more at kin with the wolf's spirit would draw in similar laughter if admitting they were quite fond of the meat of a still-warm body? Well, perhaps one did catch more flies with honey than blood...and the bear was fond of honey. "Too sweet a spirit for most, but I have a bit of a tooth for such things." He admitted, though it had been at least fifteen or so odd years since the start of the shadow curse that he'd really imbibed. The melancholy evenings were not missed; he'd locked them away along with a glaive he hadn't the heart to clean the blood off of before he'd sealed it behind a vault hidden near Nettie's potion supplies.

Perhaps it was his druid sense or the careful way of a wood elf's connection to the subtle changes in atmosphere, or even a mixture of both that afforded him to feel the spark of fond memories finding a fork in the road of a heart compromised in which one could travel towards sobering solemnity or commiserating sorrow. Tonight was far too special, and he far to sober to entertain the latter- especially around a guest who, for all his large hearted deeds thus far - Halsin did not want to test the boundaries of said selfless care in worry of causing a kinder heart to bleed. They would share solemnity. A laugh that escaped him at the question deemed it so.

"That is usually the type to take the job upon themselves to whip wild hearts into wise ones, is it not?" Though in a druid's case, the wildness often stayed, though wisdom helped shape it into a tool most powerful. Long fingers lingered over the portion of door that seemed to depict a dire wolf, its head tilted back to behold a moon carved above it. "Oh, a bit on the stern side. Bit of a drinking problem, that one. Full of a fury that seemed to belong to nature itself, and yet it found that it preferred him as its vessel. It is strange...I only feel wiser now that he is gone. It's as if his roots remain intertwined with my own, reassuring me during times that I falter like the cub he deemed me." His smile was soft and mailable as if a breeze that rolled through might alter it into the expression that was carved into the door that stood between the outer world and the feywild of his soul.

"But enough of the past...you are here in the future, and as Archdruid, I should ensure that your stay in the grove is ...suitable to your needs, 'Rhys'." A firm, oaken smile hardened back into place as Halsin turned to his company and gently tipped his head in the direction of the darkened home. "I am...no fan of four walls, but if if pleases you to sleep surrounded by them, you need not my permission to spread your bedroll inside. Though you may not find your Lady Silver's light through dirty windows." Taking a step back from the lodging, the druid shifted to regard the light of the bonfire the tieflings had pitched closer to the grove's center...though it made him nervous, he could not deny them their victory celebrations. He would just have to keep an eye out.

"Any hardened heart would skip like a stone on the river tonight. Do not let me keep you all to myself in the shallows."

[violetta-was-here]

Did Test Hypno Game1 by @h-sleepingirl today, twice. So spoilers for that. The first time i don't think i got very deep and when my body's reactions did not match the reactions the game was saying I was feeling it took me out of it even further. Did it a second time, 4 or 5 hours later, this time in the dark (like physically in a dark room) and all the way through. I think it sort of worked. I was choosing to go along with what the game was telling me to do, but i was going along with it. Even at the end where it was counting me out, i could have just skipped that and stopped being in trance, but i didn't, I went with the numbers and even lingered for a while on each to... idk, but i did linger on each until it felt right. It is an interesting feeling, the feeling of I could snap out of this, I'm just choosing not to, while not actually being 100% sure I could choose to snap out of it. I don't think i went quite as deep as the game seemed to think most players would, but it was still a good experience. I was also wet AF by the end and had multiple moments of the game telling me something feels good and it physically feeling good (also many that did not, but this second time around that did not take me out of it quite so much). Especially near the end, when the game was instructing people to go deeper, feel the mind melt, overwhelmingly good, etc. I loved the imagery, but i don't think my brain knew what sensations it was supposed to experience and just kinda idled. I will also say that while most people say the feelings from hypnosis feel distinct from sub space feelings, I'm not sure that was the case for me. It's possible that due to my lack of experience my brain was plugging in the closest approximations that it knew for the feelings it thought it was supposed to be feeling. Still, lots of spontaneous smiles throughout, and I think i even, to some extent, managed to get myself back into trance after a cat decided to park her fat ass in front of the screen for a minute. There was a thought that i could move her out of the way, but in the end I just kinda sat and waited and eventually she moved. Again not sure if that was a "i can't actually get myself to move and just think i can" or my conscience mind just telling me "if you start moving and the cat starts meowing you'll take yourself out of it all the way". I think the latter, but fun to imagine it was the first one. One thing that often takes me out of various hypno stuff is swallowing saliva. I would love to drool all over myself but my mind does not let me, and swallows it down. Usually swallowing takes me out of it, but not this time around. Also enjoyed reading the breakdown of the script, I had caught onto some of what the game was doing while playing it, but seeing the amount of detail and thought that went into everything was great.

As a follow up to this. That night there were multiple times where it felt like I woke up (or was sleeping very lightly) in a partial trance. Mumbling 'yes' to myself did make me feel good. Or at least i dreamed that it did.

[abbatoirablaze]

MSI, Gay For Pay, Chapter 2

Word Count:  1.2k

“So are you able to fix it?”

Loki felt a knot in his stomach as he stood beside his one-time filming partner and mentor; the scene unfolding in front of him.  He swallowed the lump in his throat as the goth-looking girl bent over the desk and leaned forward.  The camera went from a behind shot where they could see her wet pussy which was covered only by the short mini-skirt she wore and a set of fishnets.  But seeing her through his eyes; her barely there shirt leaving little to the imagination as her pierced nipples were nearly exposed through the thin material, giving him more than a few thoughts. 

“Y-yeah…” Jake nodded nervously.  He took a deep breath a pushed up his glasses, his eyes obviously looking at her perky breasts, “for a price…”

“Oh?”

“I-uh…I found a few things on your laptop,” he admitted, tapping the laptop that sat on the desk beside him, “things that…that I don’t think you want other people to see…and they won’t…you know…”

“For a price…”

He nodded. 

She bit her lip and looked at the laptop.  She went to reach for it, but Jensen slid it back towards himself, teasing her, “its not that simple, Mischief.”

She seemed to freeze at the name.  Her eyes went wide.

“Oh…I know all about your naughty little side hustle,” Jake teased, pulling the laptop into his arms before sliding it into the desk and locking it, “and i-“

“What do you want?” she asked, cutting him off. 

“Oh, I think you know what I want.  I want a show of my very own.  I think it would more than cover what I can do to fix your laptop,” he smirked.  He stood up and walked around the desk.  He braced himself against it, keeping her tucked between his arms.  He was delicate in the way that he leaned forward, his lips just barely touching her ear, “I want a little bit of Mischief all to myself.”

She looked at him, but her eyes went too far.  Instead of looking out of her peripherals and catching Jake’s eyes, she managed to catch Loki’s.  Her lips parted ever so slightly, and it seemed like she was momentarily in a trance.

Loki felt a shiver run down his spine as he stared at the breath-taking woman.

“Wh-who is she?” Loki asked. 

Tom smirked, practically able to see the chemistry between the two, “Mischief…Zemo acquired her from another company a few weeks ago.  Figured we’d ease her in with Jensen, but she usually does hard stuff…Jazz is fully transitioned over to the hardcore site now that Kitten retired, and I’m thinking she might take over for Nat…”

Loki suddenly felt anxious, “Barber’s partner?”

“Barbers got his new candy already…don’t you worry,” Tom chuckled, “no, Mischief just likes doing rough stuff.  She’s a bit of a sub, which is good, because you know how Jazz likes to dominate the big guys.”

Loki breathed a sigh of relief as he chuckled, “I hear enough from Curtis about how she likes to give it to him…”

“She’s gonna be a toy for guys like Fowler…sometimes Beck.  Has another scheduled shoot next week with Stan and Storm to see how she handles herself in a threesome before Zemo tosses her too the wolves…”

“Oh…”

“Think Zemo wanted a shot at her too.”

Loki swallowed, “oh…”

“You know…you should be nicer to the man who signs your paychecks and makes the decisions on shoots.”

Loki frowned as he looked over his shoulder to Zemo, “If you’re going to be a dick about what I said in your office I don’t want to hear it.”

“All I meant is that you would think you’d be a bit nicer about it…she’s scheduled to shoot with me for a hardcore testing scene tomorrow.”

“Yeah…I heard you were trying to test her out…”

“And yet, you still came to my office to talk about her,” the owner of the company teased, “were you going to ask my advice?  Ask for the test shoot as a way to get out of your current obligations?”

“I like her Zemo, okay?” Loki shrugged, “but I’m not about to ask a favor if you’re going to hold it over my head.”

“Okay, Laufeyson,” he shrugged, “Don’t worry.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

“MISCHIEF!  JENSEN!” The woman smiled as Tom called her over, waving for both her and Jensen to join him and Loki by the cameras, “Come on, I want the two of you to see what we’re working with right now.”

“Loki!” Jake smiled, quickly hugging one of his fellow co-workers, “how are you?  It’s been forever!  You’re never on this side of the site.”

“You know how Zemo is…” Loki muttered, “likes to keep my schedule full so that he can get that niche market squared away.”

“Saw that,” he agreed, “but hey, you’re up for a hell of a lot of nominations in the hardcore categories.  You’re dominating.”

“Mischief, have you met Loki?” Tom asked quickly, including the two obviously chemistry-stricken people, “you know, he started out his career with me, doing the twin-cest stuff.  Shot him straight to a cult following in the gay market!”

“Yea-yeah…” she nodded quickly, “my uh-my brother loves your work.  He got pretty excited when he found out I got a contract with MSI.”

Loki felt himself blushing, “oh…uh-thank you…”

She bit her lip and looked down, but then her attention was grabbed by a semi that Loki was trying to cover.

“Come on now, Laufeyson, don’t be embarrassed,” Tom joked.  He shot a wink to Mischief, “how you know your shoot was on fire…Loki’s a hard one to impress.”

“Oh, I bet it had everything to do with Jake,” she laughed playfully, throwing a playful punch at Jake’s arm, “he’s playing that role all too well.”

“I’m used to that stereotype!” Jake said, rolling his eyes, “and anyways, he’s probably rocking a semi because of you.  I’m not Loki’s type!”

She looked back at him for a moment before looking at her filming partner and director, “What?”

“Sweetie, Loki’s not gay!” Tom chuckled, spelling out the obvious, “and every straight man in this room has a semi because of what you two are doing, so let’s get you two back up there and get it finished before this turns into an orgy.”

“She mentioned you too, you know?”

Loki turned around, seeing Jake smoking a cigarette outside of the building.  His brow raised, and he sighed, realizing that he’d had his conversation with Helmut just around the corner.

“Jake-“

“Think she’s got a crush on you!”

“She thought I was gay…” Loki muttered, crossing his arms, “she thought-“

“She’s a little air-headed when it comes to thinking anyone would have an interest in her,” he shrugged, “but she talked about you after you left.”

“That so?”

“We’re all going out tonight…co-workers getting together…you should come…”

“You guys never invite me to those things…”

“Because we all know you hate being invited and won’t show up,” he shrugged, “but she’s going…and I know that she wants you to, too.  She hopes you’ll show up.  You should.”

Loki bit his lip, already regretting the decision he’d made in his mind, but wanting to spend more time with her, “text me when and where?”

Jake smiled, “Of course.”

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @anda-the-valkyrie, @lokissidepeice

[mixedmindhypnosis]

Hypnosis: Focus

What is Focus?

Focus is prolonged guided attention towards something accompanied by reduced perception of anything other than the object.

Example 1

Every now and then I find myself doing hypnosis with a play partner in environments that initially do not seem beneficial for going into trance.

Recently I hypnotised my play partner while music was playing that really gets your blood pumping. In my head I was hoping that this wouldn't disrupt my partners experience of trance.

After we were done with trancing, I asked them if the music was distracting for them. They told me that they didn't really notice the music once their focus was with me and my voice.

Sidenote: For some people noise in the background can be disrupting.

Discussion

Focus defined as above shows up in hypnosis on several levels. First, focus is one of main attributes of trance. The easier it is for a person to focus on one thing while ignoring everything around it, the easier it is to follow the hypnotist’s instructions and be guided into a trance. Secondly, focus is a tool you can use within hypnosis to achieve different desired effects.

Focus as an Attribute of Trance

The goal of hypnosis is usually to bring another person into trance or to be the one that will be in a trance. Without achieving trance whatever you have planned (or not planned) might not be very successful.

One of the core components of trance is focus, but how do we get someone to focus? Focussing on just one thing can be very difficult. We all know that there are days where your mind just seems to be racing from one thought to another. When this happens, it might seem impossible to focus on one thing and stay focussed.

Trance can be especially wonderful on those days but how do you get someone into trance when their focus seems dispersed? As a hypnotist it's important to keep in mind that you there are things you can't control, but it's just as important to keep in mind that thinking outside the box sometimes can turn a disadvantage into a new opportunity and maybe even an advantage.

A way how you can tackle racing brains is by giving them as much food as possible. Give them what they want and more. Our brain can only handle a limited about of input, so one way to get it to shut up is to overload it. There are plenty of different ways to make an overload induction and they can be very fun if you're the type for it (both as a hypnotist and a subject).

If you give your subject plenty of things to focus on they will get tired pretty fast and when you eventually tell them to let go and just focus on what you are doing their brains are very likely to jump at the opportunity to stop racing and just enjoy the relaxation of just focussing on one thing.

On the other side of dispersion of focus is the hyperfocus, a state where one is completely absorbed with whatever is the centre of their attention in that moment. If you know that your subject has hyperfocus you can also use this to your advantage, ask them what they find it very easily to focus on and use these things as a focus for trance.

Focus as a Tool

Once you know how to gain someone’s focus you can do very amazing things with it. One very interesting and impressive thing is how easy it can be to shape one’s reality just by shifting and strengthening their focus wherever you want it to be.

It's rather easy to trick the human mind and you don't need to be in trance for that. One example for that is magic and sleight of hand tricks. The main ingredient for a magic trick to work is to be on control of the spectator’s focus. Same goes for any kind of suggestion.

Many convincers (i.e. the arm levitation test) work on the basis of focus. If you get your subject to focus on that one thing you want them to focus on they will be much more likely to notice the change you want them to notice.

Hypnotic suggestions work exactly the same. Let's imagine you give someone the suggestion that they want to laugh. It may need to prepare them first by letting them imagine or remember a very funny situation. Once you've done that and keep their focus where you want it to be, their focus will do most of the job.

By continuously focussing on that one thing, they will imagine it more and more vividly until they start imagining how it would feel. Focussing on a feeling or sensation makes it more intense as you notice every little change. If it just gets a little stronger the subject will learn that the suggestion works which reinforces the belief and strengthens the focus and the effect.

Example 2

Once I was at a kinky retreat with my partner and some friends. Within that group was a person I did some hypnosis with.

I suggested them that they would be able to feel whatever positive emotion the person feels they are looking at and let this feeling grow as much as they liked.

They ended up looking at scenes ending up melting, being very fluffy and cuddly, and feeling a lot of arousal and pleasure.

Not every suggestion is equally simple to conjure for your subject’s brain, but what tends to work very well are positive emotions. Most people tend to prefer positive to negative emotions, so it seems logical that it's easier to stay focussed on something you like to feel.

There are also negative emotions that some people like during play. Some examples would be fear, shame, and humiliation, but these are the surface emotions in that very moment which serve a greater purpose of fuelling a positive emotions like arousal, happiness, ... in the end.

Focus is a very powerful tool and can be used for a lot of fascinating and fun things. Learn how your partner focusses, what draws their attention and use this to enhance your play together.

You can find an overview of the post series here.

Also feel free to follow me on FetLife for more kinky content.

[exlwandering]

Celica and Lemal part 4

I'm just trying to get as much of my story out in one go as I can because I think it was like a month or two of just no updates even though I had a bunch written. So here, take it!!

—Celica—

I wake up to Relua picking me up out of bed. I didn’t sleep well last night so I’m exhausted. She drops me to the floor as soon as we’re out of Lemals room, I land on my face and bend my arm in a very painful way. But I grit my teeth, get up and follow her. 

I’m thrown in the cold water and scrubbed quickly and harshly yet I almost fall asleep. More water fills my lungs. 

I’m dried softly and I fall asleep in my only friend's arms for who knows how long. 

When I wake up I’m being shoved in another corset. Then  another horrible dress. Much older than yesterdays. 

I’m pushed into my seat at the breakfast table and I fall asleep again, only my head on the table. 

A chair is pulled out and someone, probably Lemal, sits down. Food is put on the table. Lemal puts his hand on my head and I shoot up like a shot. He pulls his hand back, probably from shock.

 I eat all of the food in my bowl, once again putting the meat into Lemals bowl. 

When we finish eating Lemal looks over to Relua, she’s behind me apparently.

She picks me up and when we leave the room she puts me down, more gentle than before. Then she drops a note to me. 

“Are you going to follow me? Or are you going to run back to that hole again?”

I glare up at her. She looks indifferent.  

“The hole.”

Dig, dig, dig some more until I’m in such a trance from all of the turns that I’m making. The goal of all of this is to make one giant maze. If I can do that, even if anyone other than a Compatu manages to get down here they won't be able to get to me or anyone else. Not before I can dig my way out and run away. And anyone else in the future to get stuck here.

I march myself out of the entrance tunnel pulling up mounds of dirt as well. I take a look at my state and, remembering how Lemal looked at me yesterday, realize I need to clean up at least a little.

There is a small neglected pond just beyond the tree line. I get out of my tunnel and run up to it. Earlier I had ditched the dress in that circle section of the maze -technically the entrance of it- and I had slipped the corset off… somehow. (it was one hell of a fight actually, I felt like I couldn’t breath. Thinking about it they probably put it on me so that it’s harder to move, and it sure as hell accomplishes its goal is that;s the case. Maybe I can start ditching them eventually, or maybe hide them until they don’t have anymore to put on me? I’ll think of something.)

I run to the pond and submerge myself into the water, get out again, scrub my fur to get the rocks out and return to my tunnel to get dressed again. When I do, I begin to push the dirt into even more of a garden shape. The plan with the garden is to expand it with all of the dirt that I get from the maze and then plant a whole garden to not only hide the hole to the maze but also to block it off, it'll be difficult for anyone bigger than the bushes to get through them. Which, here, means pretty much anyone trying to find me. 

Sitting down for dinner we once again eat meat. Of course. 

I might not ever have a meal free of meat again. We eat it in more or less silence. But every now and then he looks up at me, he might be talking to me but he should know that I can’t hear him. Maybe it’s a test? Or maybe he’s not talking and he’s just looking at me. I mean, he looked pretty shook yesterday, what with me being in the dirt, which I later saw that it covered every part of me. Usually I can position myself and make the tunnel wide enough to not cover myself but I want the tunnel very snug so that it looks smaller than it is, so it's never even noticed. But since then he doesn't quite look at me the same. Or maybe he does? It’s so difficult to read a face when the entire lower half is a beak and the eyes are so encompassed in dark that you can’t even be sure there are whites to them! Maybe I can’t see enough color for it? Papa used to tell me that Shatoo can apparently see more color than us and as such not only do you have to worry about scent when hiding from them but also completely hiding your body. Nothing can be visible at all. It’s a mess. 

I lean back in my seat, losing a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. (Or trying to, instead I look Lemal right in the eye. He just stares at me. I know he’s not talking to me at this moment. His mouth is closed and he just looks right at me. Predators only look forward. I can see completely behind me but that doesn't do me much good when he can see completely in front of him.)  I look back down. He’s putting his hand to my side of the table. My poster stiffens and I pull my hand back. He soon pulls his hand away.

At night I’m apparently not allowed to undress myself at all. Lemal waved at me as I was being carried over to the dressing room. And I’m quickly undressed and then shoved into  more lingerie. It’s so much more revealing this time. Completely clear, my only grace being that they’re black. But still nearly translucent. They also put me in a black night dress that ties around my waste. (that is also, say it with me, fucking translucent!!!) They carry me to Lemal’s room where I’m plopped onto the bed. 

When Lemal himself sees me, his posture changes and he walks over to me. He puts his hand to my check and I pull away. After a moment he goes to lay down in the bed and so do I. 

A few minutes go by. I’m almost asleep (if only for my very activity-heavy day) but I feel something wrap around my waist and pull me down a little. I’m about to scream but Lemal puts his head over mine and pulls me very, very close to his chest. His hands are completely wrapped around my chest. He’s cold but his hold on me isn’t uncomfortable. At least it dosen;t seem to be to keep me from going anywhere, more so just… A cuddle, like how a child would hold his stuffed toy. Despite myself I eventually fall asleep.

—Lemal—

When I wake up Celica is nowhere to be found. That Relua must have decided that she needed a bath so early in the morning. I need to have a talk with her to not do that again. Maybe when I get back to work but not when I’m on a supposed honeymoon. Not that it’s going well so far. We’ve barely talked at all. I couldn’t tell you anything about her other than she writes and… Digs. 

Sitting up I realize the only thing to do this early is to get myself a bath as well, which is exactly what I do. 

Getting out of the bath I hear Celica at the table, her seat pulled out for her, her climbing in it and then it being pushed in. I practically chase after the sound and scent of her. In reality I can barely smell her here. Yesterday might have been a scare, what with the dirt, but I finally learned where her smell comes from. Dirt. And not shallow dirt, I know that for a fact. When I was younger I would tear up the lawn of this palace and none of that dirt looked or smelled anything like that. My dirt smelled dry and like grass but her dirt smelled like rain, or river rocks, hell even just like a memory. It’s shocking to me just how good she smells to me and all it was was her being dosed in dirt! It makes me feel… I don’t know how it makes me feel.  Just confused I suppose. 

I pull out my seat at the table and quickly plop myself into it, she looks right at me, I think. Those eyes on the side of her head make it hard to tell. I can’t see how she’s expressing her face unless her head is pointed away from me. I don't even know if she can see straight on now that I’m thinking about it. 

I put my hand on her head and whisper, “Good morning my little wife.” She, once-a-fucking-gain does not respond. I try to get her to talk by talking about myself. Bringing up what I like. I barely get through just a couple of sentences before I go quiet again. 

We just sit there eating in silence, and right when I think she’s finally gonna eat her meat, she throws it into my bowl. I eat it almost in spite. The woman is more picky than an infant. Can’t eat meat my ass. 

Despite myself I slither into my office room, getting a good eye of what might await me when my honeymoon is over. Or maybe of what awaits me just tomorrow. 

I sit down starting to work, answering correspondence from family, friends, and with the Decome King of the west. Everyone is congratulating me on my marriage. Other than one at least. This Madam Lady. No fur, feathers, or scales. Said she was from another world. I throw the letter aside. 

“What a nut.”

 I lean back into my seat, closing my eyes once I’ve finished the last one. Then I hear a squeak. 

“Lemal, what the hell are you doing here?!” 

Shooting up to look at my mother I exclaim, “Nothing!” Like a child with his hands caught in the boow bowl

“Well…” She looks over my papers and pens out, “It doesn't look like nothing. I swear you children just want to be old and dry. Get up!”

Standing up quickly I say, “is it really so bad if I decide I wanna get some things done early?”

“Oh please, even your father- as much as he wanted to stay away from me after consummating- he didn’t get near his work. He enjoyed his damned break and now you’re going to do the same. Now stop trying to escape your marriage and-”

“Mother, that is the last thing I’m doing! I am not so bad a husband as Father and you know it!” 

“Well you've yet to show it now haven’t you?”

That one stings. What’s worse is that I know she can see it on my face. 

“Oh,” crossing her arms she says, “just don’t work right now… You’ll only bog yourself down. Besides, there’s nothing to do.” Walking up to me she attempted to console me with, “just relax. If it doesn't work It doesn't work. All she’s good for is the honeymoon and then nothing. Enjoy this. Find her and take her if you must to enjoy her but just enjoy her.” She turns and as she walks away whispers, “it’s your right, remember?” She looks at me at the door pointing outwards. “Now get out and do something else.”

Leaving my office I decided to find Celica. I check all the places she wasn’t yesterday, sure enough she’s decided that she won’t be getting her fitting done today. Maybe she’s just modest, although I doubt it. Instead I check her little… garden. I don’t go outside though. Instead I grab a knife, some Belly Bulb fruit and I open the window closest to her. 

It’s odd watching her. She seems so precise. As well as she disappears in a hole for several minutes at a time. Then pulling dirt out of said hole. Over and over and over. No wonder she’s got such visible muscles, even with all of my strength I couldn't do that. I don’t understand why she won't just get dirt from the surface. Maybe it’s more fertile the deeper you go? I don’t know. I just sit, eating my Belly Bulbs while watching her. This goes on for hours. 

It is a treat watching her run to some pond to rinse off, if a little improper. She’s wild. Willing to do anything just for her own entertainment. She just decided, not a day into living here that she wanted a garden. And that is exactly what she’s doing. Not even asking for it, just taking it and doing a better job than others might be able to. It’s a little inspiring. I erase any thought of forced love from my mind at the sight of this. I want her to want me like this. It would be wonderful to be watched and cared for so much. True desire. It feels more like a need thinking about it. 

At dinner she once again puts the meat in my bowl. I admire that too. How she’s so determined. I watch her and talk random nonsense. Books I like, shows I’ve seen, my favorite music, anything that might catch her interest. 

At some point she looks over to me. Or more so up. I keep forgetting how much taller I am than her. 

I look back at her. I take a quick risk and reach for her hand. It's so small, and unfortunately fast as she pulls it back. 

I pull my hand back as well. 

“Y'know… I believe I’m starting to admire you. And just like on our wedding night I’ll say that we move at your pace. I’m happy to wait, so long as I can wait with you.”

I just walk out of the toilet room when Celica is plopped on our bed, looking a little peeved at Relua for carrying her, I’ll admit, it’s probably a little strange to going to a people that probably can’t pick her up a little to being carried but it is a necessary evil. However I don’t think about that for long. Her dress. That’s what I’m looking at. 

Black, and thin, and tight. 

“Was… Was this your idea or?” Heading over to I say again, “because if this was only them- Relua- then they need to stop. I can’t handle this.” I put my hand to her cheek but she pulls away again. 

“I- I’m sorry, it’s too much too soon. I’ll leave you be.”

I slip into the bed and so does she, silently. She must be embarrassed from yesterday and in a moment of slight desperation, I reach out to her and pull her close to me, tucking her head under my chin, and holding her tight to my chest. “Yesterday was fine, I still love you not to worry. Sleep now.”

And lucky me, she does.

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/754014869241626624/finally-wrote-something-for-the-first-time-in?source=share

Part One ^

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/760536359040630784/celica-and-lemal-part-two?source=share

Part two ^

https://www.tumblr.com/exlwandering/760547077703991296/celica-and-lemal-part-3?source=share

Part three ^

[euthymiya]

i give you myself ft. aventurine

contents: female reader, implied sexual activity (but no explicit content), post coital conversations, hints at aventurine’s past, he tells reader his name for the first time, he is implied to return after penacony

aventurine is quiet after sex. which is a stark contrast to his usual self—he’s not quiet a lot of the time. he fills the silence with smooth talk and sweet drawls and overly loaded words to make up for the empty shell underneath. but after sex, he’s quiet. unresponsive, even. you think he’s hardly registering the rake of your nails across his scalp as you play with his hair.

his eyes are closed, fluttered shut as his head lays on your chest. a shame, you think, his eyes are far too beautiful to hide away like that, even for the sake of rest.

you know he doesn’t see them that way—but it’s not like he can be blamed. the world has always seen his eyes as less than what they truly are, and it’s only natural he takes to hiding them. typically, it’s behind those glasses of his, and you mourn the beauty of the ring of blue in his pupils as soon as the lens covers them up.

“cat got your tongue?” you murmur finally, breaking the silence and flicking the middle of his forehead affectionately. he blinks, snapping out of his trance as he peers up at you before throwing that lopsided grin on his face again.

it’s almost too easy—plastering on such a mask.

“well, if you want me to fill the silence i can certainly think of a method or two,” he winks, “just say the word.”

“haven’t you already gotten enough,” you raise an amused eyebrow as he chuckles. “don’t test your luck.”

“i always test my luck, sweetheart,” he grins, “it works doesn’t it?”

you haven’t seen him in weeks. six and a half, to be exact. forty-six days. one thousand, one hundred and fifty hours. he leaves in the morning, the last time you see him—you plant that hat of his on his head yourself as you kiss him goodbye.

i’ll be back soon, he told you.

don’t keep me waiting, you murmured between gentle pecks along his jaw.

his hand had quivered a bit in your grasp before he left, you couldn’t help but think at the time.

but he’s different somehow, now that he’s returned. you’re not sure how or why, but something about him is different. perhaps it’s the way he claimed your lips tonight, far more taking and far more confident than he’s ever allowed himself to be. like he deserves to be able to take (he does) and deserves to have someone give (you’ll always give). his hands are more daring with the way they explore you, mapping along the ridges and curves of your supple skin in ways he never indulged before.

perhaps, if you had to put a label on it, tonight it wasn’t sex. perhaps tonight, it was love you made. not that you’ve never loved him before this—you’ve loved him for quite a while now. but this time, he allows himself to love you. freely, that is.

you still don’t know his name. not properly, anyway. you’re certain he wasn’t introduced to this world as aventurine—but it’s all he’s ever given you, so you adopt the title baby. it’s easier that way, to feel like a real couple. a normal one.

come back safe, baby. how was your day, baby? goodnight, baby. i’ll see you when you come back, baby.

it’s all you know how to say. one day, if you’re patient enough and love him carefully, he might tell you his given name. you hold onto hope for that—but you’ll love him even if he doesn’t.

“and where have you been all these weeks,” you scold lightly. there’s hardly any hurt in your voice, though he can make out the lingering worry. “you left me to wonder if you were dead, baby.”

there it is again—baby. the word could practically be his name at this point, not a title of affection or a testament of your endearment. at this point, it almost feels like that’s who he is. baby. your baby.

something about it feels so wonderfully natural.

he’s silent for a moment before he murmurs, “kakavasha.”

“hm?” you furrow your eyebrows, scrunching them in confusion. “come again?”

“that’s my name,” he says quietly, “i…you can call me kakavasha.”

“kakavasha,” you test the name on your tongue, feeling him tense for a moment before he relaxes as soon as your fingers soothe through in his hair. you smile, grinning ear to ear as you repeat, “kakavasha. what a precious name. you’ve hid it for so long, you devious thing.”

he wrinkles his nose as you poke the tip, earning a giggle from you.

“i had to,” he whispers, nibbling on the tip of your finger.

i’m sorry, he wants to say.

you know bits and pieces of aventurine—kakavasha. those precious little sigonian eyes and that dreadful carving on the skin of his neck hint at enough. he doesn’t tell you, but something’s are easier to leave unsaid, letting the pieces fall slowly into place without the harsh breeze of bitter words. perhaps you’d always known that the man you love was never yours first, that he was always the property of someone else before you, before himself.

but something’s changed. kakavasha comes home different. he gives himself to you, by name and by body, by touch and feel and intimacy in ways he never could before. he gives himself away to you instead of keeping himself locked away.

you’ll keep him safe, you think. for a man who’s never truly had himself to hand you the pieces so easily, so hopefully, you couldn’t bear to let him down.

“kakavasha is beautiful,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks, lifting his head enough to plant a careful kiss to his lips. they quirk into a dazzling smile—not a plastered mask this time, but the real thing.

and a beautiful thing it is, his smile. laced with childlike glee and innocence that the world stripped away all too soon.

“i like baby better,” he says smoothly, “don’t you think it fits more?”

“i think fool fits you best if you really want my opinion,” you tease. (he pouts at that, and you know it’s only for the sake of getting another kiss pressed to his curled lips.)

“i won’t be asking for your opinion again,” he grumbles.

“but baby,” you drawl, scattering pecks along his cheeks and forehead, “don’t be like that. i was only teasing.”

he taps his cheek expectantly, waiting for another kiss, and of course, you oblige through a fit of delighted giggles. who are you to deny him, after all? after he’s been denied of so much already.

“i’ll stay this time,” he murmurs after some time (when he’s thoroughly satisfied demanding your unwavering affections), laying against your chest once more, “i won’t have to leave anymore.”

they won’t make me go.

“good,” you whisper, fingers tracing shapes into his bare back, suspiciously close to letters that spell kakavasha along his skin. he shivers under your touch, leaning impossibly closer. “you’re all mine now, then.”

“all yours,” he confirms. and finally, he can mean it.

i am so excited for his banner you guys don’t even know. if i don’t get him i’m going to eat a rattlesnake

[terrible-twst-oc-ideas]

Would You Believe I've Never Had a Lesson? IV. Fourth Movement - The Mentor

Their power could hypnotize people.

That was the conclusion Piper came to, after Reed never returned. They would still see the boy in the halls, but he never came to visit them again, instead reserving one of the school’s many practice rooms for his use until dinner. Whether these efforts netted him that coveted solo or not was of little concern to Piper, because Piper was of little concern to him. They weren’t useful to him anymore. Besides, Piper had something else to occupy their thoughts: their power. It now consumed their mind so greedily they could think of nothing else. It demanded further understanding.

And after Reed’s sudden change of character and lack of memory regarding it, Piper finally gave in to those demands.

They started with so-called “acceptable” targets. The night patrol had never let them play their organ during the school’s quiet hours, but under their music’s influence, they were all too happy to… sometimes. Piper found this aspect of their power to be rather inconsistent. Of the two usual patrolmen, the more lenient one was willing to let it slide after a song, while the stricter one rarely let them escape returning to their dorm room. Piper hypothesized, therefore, that the effect wasn’t true hypnosis, but rather heightened suggestibility: similar, but not nearly as reliable. 

From there, the experiments only continued on their peers and teachers. Piper had resisted taking it that far, but no matter how hard they tried not to, they kept coming up with questions the limited sample of the night patrol couldn’t answer. How much could they potentially affect the actions of others? (Answer inconclusive, variable.) How long did the dazed state last after their music ended? (Approximately five seconds, give or take a few microseconds.) Did it only work for one instrument or multiple? (Multiple, though only for those few Piper was confident in playing.) Could it work with singing? (No.) How much did those affected remember? (Only that they were listening to their music.) How and why could they do this to people? (Unclear.) 

“Piper? May we talk before you leave?”

Mr. Duke finally approached Piper at the end of Winter Soiree rehearsals, his ears perked up as usual and his tail swishing hesitantly. It had been two weeks since Piper had discovered their ability, and a week since they’d started testing it on the school’s populace. As such, they sat firmly by the side of the stage organ with a suspicious air.

“Yes, sir. What’s the occasion?”

“Well darling, it’s a bit of an odd thing…” The beastman pushed up his glasses, averting his eyes while his ears stayed pointedly focused. “It’s just that I, and frankly, a lot of other people, have been experiencing these sort of… trances, as of late.”

Piper tried to hide how their heart skipped a beat.

“Oh… is that so?” 

“Yes,” their teacher sighed with a bit of drama. “I’ve experienced them myself. They always seem to happen whenever organ music is heard, and when they occur, all I can think about and pay attention to is that music until it ends. You haven’t been experiencing that sort of thing, have you?”

“No-- n-not at all, sir,” Piper mentally kicked themself for that stutter, “I’ve not heard of such a thing until now.”

“Really?” Something in their teacher’s smile turned coy, “Because there’s one more thing that I’ve taken note of personally-- these trance states didn’t start occurring until your audition for the Winter Soiree. And, furthermore, they only seem to happen when you’re playing the organ. Now darling, you’re also sure you don’t have anything to do with them, right?”

Piper knew they could lie-- the words for it were right there on the edge of their tongue-- but their breath had turned so tight that it refused to cooperate.

“You’re not in trouble, darling,” Mr. Duke smiled warmly, “I just want to know for sure.”

At last, Piper breathed a sigh of defeat.

“Yes,” they admitted, their guilty gaze fixed on their keyboard, “I’m the cause of the trances.”

Mr. Duke nodded, taking a seat beside his student in the casual, nonchalant way he could always effortlessly achieve.

“How long have you been able to do this?”

“Like you said. Only since the Winter Soiree auditions.” Piper gripped their sleeve, averting their eyes further to their shoes. “It was an accident, that first time, but-- I’ve admittedly been experimenting with it since then. Trying to figure out exactly how it works.”

“Ah. I’d expect nothing less from you. You’ve always had an inquisitive mind.” Their teacher looked at Piper fondly in spite of their current guilt. “And that is exactly why I wanted to speak with you.”

Piper braced themself for their imminent scolding. 

“I’ve talked with the headmistress, and firstly, we want you to stop using this power for now. It is not currently safe for you to do so, and we do not want you or anyone else getting hurt. And secondly, based on our discussion… we both believe that Madame Bonfamille’s is no longer the right place for you.”

“What?!” Piper's blood pressure spiked, their breath now huffing like a train engine, “I’m not being expelled, am I?! Please, I won't ever employ this ability again, just like you asked! And I’ll do anything you want for me to make up for--”

“No, no, darling. You’re not being expelled,” Mr. Duke hummed on the breeze of a chuckle, “We just believe that, going into your high school years, you should transfer into a magic-focused school.”

Piper’s blood and breath slowed under their wave of sudden confusion.

“…Magic school? But-- I can’t perform magic. I’ve never been able to.”

“Until your audition.” Mr. Duke corrected, his eye twinkling. “That’s why I’ve been so insistent on you getting food and rest. I assumed your new power was magic from the beginning, and wanted to ensure any blot you gained was cleared out of your system.”

“But… that can’t be what it is.” Piper shook their head so fast they needed to readjust their glasses. “Most people are born with magic, or develop it as kids, and I missed both of those marks. And-- and how would you know, anyway? You’re not a mage.”

“No. But my husband is,” His smile grew fonder, “Trust me, darling. I know magic when I see it. And I also know that, while rare, some people develop the ability to use it far later than most. You’re just a late bloomer.”

Piper fell silent, studying the patterns of the organ’s keys again. Their strange ability being magic-based would make the most sense. And yet…

“Okay… but, why should I be going to a magic school? I’ve never wanted magic. Nor have I wanted to study it. What I want is to be a musician, it's all I've ever wanted. So why should I leave the best music school in Twisted Wonderland to study something I’ve never given a second thought, all because fate just-- randomly decided I should have access to it now?!”

Piper hid their face behind their hands, pushing them up underneath their glasses to prevent the lenses from getting foggy. They didn’t know why, but their face had grown hot, and they suddenly felt like they were going to cry. 

“There there, darling. It’s alright.” Their teacher whispered, tucking a lock of hair out of Piper’s face, “I’m sure this is frightening for you, and overwhelming, too. But darling, no one is forcing you to do anything. We’re just sharing our opinion.”

“But why is that your opinion?” Piper ripped their hands from their face, revealing a sharp glare, “Aren’t I the ‘crown jewel’ of Madame Bonfamille’s? Why are you and the headmistress suddenly so eager to get rid of me?” 

“Darling, we’re not trying to get rid of you. You are still one the best students we have, and perhaps have ever had.” Mr. Duke sighed. “And that is precisely why we think it would be best if you pursued other studies.”

Mr. Duke laid a hand on their student's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as Piper became speechless with confusion.

“Piper, I will be honest. There is not much more this school can teach you. You have always been six measures ahead of everyone else-- probably even further than that-- and we feel that you are now at the point where, if you stay here, you are likely going to stagnate. And I know you, darling. You’re always looking for new challenges, always looking for ways to employ that brilliant mind of yours. Magic school would give you the opportunity to not only better use these new abilities, but to also give that mind of yours something new to busy itself with. And, who knows? Perhaps you can use the magic you’ve learned to bring your music to heights you can’t even imagine.”

Piper hesitated, trying to hide how that last comment made their eyes shine. They knew everything Mr. Duke said was more than reasonable-- it was true. Their classes had been rather stifling and, daresay, boring as of late. And even compared to the hours they’d spent constructing their first concert piece, toying with their strange new power had been the most invigorating thing they’d done in a while. That didn’t stop them from thinking the proposition was utterly terrifying. Not only was the idea thrust upon them out of nowhere, not only were they being told to jump from the nest when they didn’t know the first thing about magic… but they couldn’t avoid the thought that they simply wouldn’t be good at it. Music made them wanted. If they abandoned it for magic, and weren’t very good at it, then everyone would leave them behind by the time they came crawling back. And then, what would they be good for?

They couldn’t voice those concerns to Mr. Duke, however. They were too private. They tried to think through the usual excuses people gave for these kinds of things-- they’d miss their friends, or their teachers, or felt so at home within their current walls. But their tongue didn’t feel like lying.

“I’ll… think about it,” they mumbled. “May I be excused for dinner now?”

“Of course, darling. I’m due for a meal and a spot of milk tea myself.” Mr. Duke chuckled, standing up alongside his student. “Oh, and one final thing: I’ve prepared some pamphlets and application sheets for a few schools you might be interested in applying to. I could send them up to your dorm, if you’d like.”

“Ah-- yes,” Piper found themself saying, “Thank you, Mr. Duke.”

[baguettemagiqu7]

There's something strange about Douglas

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate Rating: T (a little bloody) Relationships: Astarion (Baldur’s Gate)/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Astarion (Baldur’s Gate), Douglas (OC) Additional Tags: the Douglas Cinematic Universe Halloween Special, happy Halloween! Summary: There's something strange about Douglas, and Astarion is the only one who sees it.

There's something strange about Douglas.

He looks the same,

and sounds the same,

but when he looks at me, 

everything screams that it isn't him.

Is it the way he looks at me?

Is it the way his voice sounds hollow?

He climbed into my lap, and my skin crawled.

It can't be him. It isn't him.

None of the others seem to notice anything. 

“Are you guys fighting or something? He seems the same as usual to me. Maybe you’re just being sensitive,” Wyll said. 

“Nobody could fake that accent,” said Shadowheart. 

He looks hurt that I’ve distanced myself, and Gale frowns at me for wounding him. 

“Can’t you see it?!” I want to cry, but their stares stop me. 

I don’t want to sleep with him tonight, but he insists, exposing his neck. There’s something wrong with his blood - it isn’t his; it isn’t comforting and warm. Whatever it is that is pulsing underneath his skin is cold and lifeless. Is it even blood? I don’t know. 

He nestles into my arms, mimicking every slightest habit; the way he bites his lip, the way he folds his arms around me, the way he buries his face into my chest. 

But perhaps the temperature of his skin is off by an imperceptible degree, or perhaps it’s something else. “Don’t you want to drink from me?” he asked. 

I shivered. “Not tonight, darling,” I manage to say, forcing myself to stroke his hair. 

He lifts his face and stares at me with an edge that I’ve never seen before, hard and cruel as a Drow’s blade. 

I won’t get any rest tonight.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

My trance breaks and I open my eyes. And for a split second, the thing in my bedroll, whatever it is - was something else. Pale and grotesque and full of hate. It wasn’t Douglas - it wasn’t anything I’d ever seen.

I blink and it’s a gnome again, staring up at me with those eyes that were at once familiar and completely alien. 

“What is it?” it asks, bumping its forehead against my chest. Gods, how long has this thing been studying us? Watching us in our most intimate moments? 

“Nothing, dear, I was just thinking,” I reply carefully.  It stares at me unblinkingly with an unsettling stillness. Does it know? That I know? Surely it would have killed me by now if it did… wouldn’t it? 

I try to avoid meeting its gaze, but I can still feel it burning me. My dagger - I have to get my dagger without it noticing somehow. “I was just thinking… about what would happen after we defeat that foul brain. Will we keep traveling together?”

I can see it thinking. I edge my hand further behind me, my fingers grazing the edge of my armor. 

“Why wouldn’t we?” the thing replies. It’s smiling but its smile doesn’t quite reach its eyes. I can see how it managed to fool the others - it would have been a dead ringer for Douglas if it weren’t for that. 

I try to keep my voice even as my hand closes around the hilt of my dagger. “I thought you might want to go our separate ways and find a way home. I wasn’t sure if I would  be welcome there - remind me, what was the name of your village again?” 

It freezes. “You don’t remember?” 

“I’m so sorry, darling, I don’t know why I can’t seem to think of it,” I say.

It stares at me, wearing a hurt expression. Its mask is cracking; it doesn’t know his face nearly as well as it thinks it does. However long it had been watching us, it certainly hadn’t seen him making this face before. 

Perhaps it sensed that it was being tested, that it was close to being cornered - it lunges at me suddenly, so fast I barely have the time to swing my dagger, but I make it just in time and plunge it into its chest. It sputters and coughs, blood spurting out of its mouth. Out of his mouth. 

For a split second I hesitate. It senses my trepidation and makes its voice tremble. 

“Astarion? H-how could you?” he says, weakly reaching out a hand. 

I have to act. This thing isn’t Douglas. I know it isn’t - but to kill him…

I close my eyes and drive the dagger into its heart again, and again, and again. It struggles; it shrieks and flails, sounding progressively more inhuman with each strike. And when I open my eyes again, it’s that pale, stretched thing. 

The flap to my tent opens, and I can see the pale sky behind Wyll’s silhouette. Dawn is breaking. 

“By Balduran’s helm, Astarion, what happened here?” Wyll asks. Gale and Karlach are not far behind him. “What in the Hells is that? Where’s Doug?”

“Gone,” is all I can manage to say. 

They’re getting closer, coming to kneel down to study the corpse. In the dim light their expressions are inscrutable. Wyll lays a hand on my shoulder. I shudder at the cold of his touch.