#and yet we both have the distinct memory of it happening

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 5

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: after this point you don’t really see Sofia, at least for a while. Maybe at 1 point but I haven’t decided.

I don’t know what Part 2 of the season will bring but from here on out it’s just a rewrite of events that will include Maybank reader instead. Also there’s some use of Y/N here since some conversations don’t happen with her. enjoy :)

2nd note: please let me know if you like this. I love the story telling and building the plot but wanna make sure it’s doing well. Don’t want anyone getting bored :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: nothing but soft Rafe tbh and setting up story lines. Next part will be fun

“I’m going to head out for a bit, okay? I have a few things I need to take care of. How about we meet up later at my place?” He asks as you and Rafe made your way down the path. You carried the cozy blanket and picnic basket filled with remnants from your breakfast, while he cradled Vivienne, their bond already evident in the way he held her close.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, a broad grin spreading across his face.

He lovingly passed you Vivienne after showering her with a load of affectionate kisses, and then, without missing a beat, he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. The warmth of that brief connection caught you off guard. You wouldn’t lie; while you had anticipated this moment, you hadn’t expected the domesticity of it all to hit you like this. It felt so natural for him, yet it brought a flurry of emotions bubbling to the surface for you.

The kiss lingered on your lips, and you could feel the warmth emanating from both Rafe and Vivienne, creating an intimate bubble that shielded you from the rest of the world. Rafe's ability to seamlessly blend fatherhood with his charming personality was surprising; he made the whole experience seem effortless, like it was second nature to him.

You couldn't help but marvel at how your relationship had transformed over the course of just a couple of days. Just a year and a half ago, Rafe was simply the bad guy, made to make your brother and his friends lives hell. Now, he was someone who shared quiet moments and laughter with you as a family. Holding the blanket and basket in your arms, you felt an undeniable connection forming. Guilt still creeping in. You wished you allowed him to experience her first year.

As you began to walk away, your mind twirled with thoughts about what the evening might hold. You both had created unforgettable memories together, but this moment felt distinct; it brimmed with the promise of something more profound. Perhaps it was the awareness that you were becoming an integral part of his world—a world filled with simple joys, late-night giggles, and unexpected kisses. As the sun raised above the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, a smile crept across your face at the thought of the future and what lay ahead.

“Say bye dada” you tell V

“Bye dada!” V yells from off the porch

Rafe yells bye back and blows her a kiss. Driving off to do his business as you head inside.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe returns to his house, his thoughts racing as he walks through the door. On the way there, he texted Sofia, asking her to meet him. The weight of the conversation ahead loomed heavy in his chest.

Sofia arrives shortly after. “Hey, Rafe,” she greets him warmly.

“Hey.”

She steps in close and pulls him into a tight, loving hug, but Rafe doesn’t return the embrace with the same intensity. Her smile falters, and she looks up at him, concern etched across her face.

“What’s wrong? Did things not go well with your daughter?” she asks softly.

Rafe shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He gestures for her to sit with him outside by the pool. Once they’re settled, he continues, his voice a little distant. “She’s… she’s perfect. Vivienne. That’s her name. She’s the most perfect little girl to ever exist. She looks just like me. She’s so beautiful, so happy.” His words trail off, but Sofia knows there’s more. She feels a knot forming in her stomach.

“I needed to talk to you about some things,” he adds, his tone turning serious.

“Okay…” Sofia replies hesitantly, her heart beginning to race.

Rafe takes a deep breath. “I want to focus on her. On Vivienne. And… um… I want to focus on my family, with both of them. I never expected things to play out this way, and I’m sorry, but this is what I want. I need to be there for them. We need to end this.”

Sofia’s face falls, the words hitting her like a punch. “Oh,” she whispers, barely audible. Her mind scrambles to make sense of it. She thought what they had was special, that he felt the same. But now, he was going back—back to Y/N, back to his family. “Maybe you should, then,” she adds quietly, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s only right.”

Rafe finally meets her gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It wasn’t planned, okay? You know that. But everything came rushing back—every memory, every feeling. And now that V is in the picture, I can’t deny it.”

Sofia doesn’t speak for a few moments, letting the weight of his words settle. She hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t imagined she’d be here, blindsided by the sudden shift in his priorities. She didn’t expect to become a ‘stepmom,’ but she had been willing to sacrifice for him—she had believed in what they had.

But now, as sadness sinks in, so does a flicker of anger. It drags her back to a few days ago, when everything still felt right—before Y/N came back into the picture. She remembers overhearing Rafe talking to Ruthie and Topper, saying she was just a hookup, that he could never be with a Pogue like that. Even though she knew it wasn’t true two times, one for you and the other her, the words had stung. They had left a mark. And now, with this revelation, they hurt even more.

In the days that followed, she had been tempted to meet with Hollis, after her dad suggested it. Initially, she’d rejected the idea because she had loved Rafe. She thought he loved her too. But after overhearing him she met with him. Took the money from her too. she planned to return it not being able to do it. But now, with Rafe pulling away, with him choosing another life—another woman—she has nothing to lose.

“I was thinking about that deal you mentioned,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “You should do it. I was hesitant before, but maybe it’s a good opportunity. It could be a way to build something for your daughter.”

Rafe looks at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “Maybe you’re right. I still have to decide, but I’m leaning toward going for it. It could be a good opportunity.” He shrugs, unsure of his next steps.

They sit in silence for a while, the weight of their relationship hanging in the air. Finally, Rafe turns to her. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me,” he says earnestly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just think my place is with Y/N and Vivienne.”

Sofia nods slowly, her heart aching. “I understand. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s all that matters.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek before standing to leave.

Rafe grabs her hand gently. “I’m sorry, Sofia. Really, I am.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, her voice steady but hollow. “But you should definitely take that deal.”

Rafe smiles weakly at her, grateful for her understanding. As she walks away, leaving him alone by the pool, he takes a deep breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in. He knows he’s made his choice, but something nags at him—the way she had pushed the deal so hard. For a moment, it puzzles him, but he brushes it off as her wanting the best for him.

Sitting in the stillness, he lets his thoughts swirl before finally reaching for his phone. After some time alone, he dials your number, needing to see you, ready to move forward with the life he’s chosen.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You arrive an hour later. V wobbles into the house, running straight to Rafe. “Dada!” You both smile, the word now coming naturally to her. Rafe is completely smitten. She leans in for a kiss, then holds up her stuffed turtle for him to kiss too.

Rafe looks at you with a serious expression. “I broke up with her.”

Startled, you ask, “What?”

“I ended things with Sofia. I know what I want—it’s you and V.”

“Oh… That wasn’t my plan, Rafe. I didn’t want to ruin everything you’ve built.”

“It wasn’t mine either, but I’m sure now. Is this what you want? Please say yes, because I need to show you something.” He steps closer.

“Of course, yes.”

Rafe leads you and V upstairs. It feels strange not being at Tannyhill, a place you knew so well. You stop at a door with a wooden “V” hanging on it. Inside is a complete nursery—books, toys, a beautiful crib, and a cushioned rocking chair. One wall is covered with sea animal wallpaper, the others a clean white.

“I had an interior decorator come yesterday after I found out. I wanted it done quickly. The wallpaper went up this morning. Kelce stopped by to make sure everything was right.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You pull him in for a kiss and turn to see V already making a mess.

Later, you all head downstairs for dinner. As you eat, Rafe opens up about a deal involving Goat Island, the same place your brother and his friends recently visited.

“What are you going to do?” you ask as he clenches his fist.

“I’m not sure. It could be great—for us, for her.”

“You’ll figure it out. It does seem strange, but maybe Hollis is really looking out for you. I’ll support you no matter what.” You reach for his hand.

“I love you, Banks. You’ve always been the best to me.” Your eyes widen at the old nickname. Smiling softly, you reply, “I love you too, Cameron.”

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative @writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Let's talk Galadriel x Sauron Sexy Times (Freudian symbolism)

@rey-jake-therapist inspired me to write this, and then a few other users started to question about it. Buckle up, this is going to be wild.

According to Tolkien legendarium, can Sauron and Galadriel "do it"? The short answer is: yes. As long as Sauron is in physical form, it's entirely possible. And he can even get her pregnant, too (but it would cost him). Not only that, but they might have already done it back in Season 1, actually.

The long answer is more complicated. Why? Eldar customs, probably decreet by the Valar. I already talked about this shortly in this post. Tolkien’s writings about wedding, love and sex among the Eldar (Elves) can be found in “Morgoth’s Ring, Part III. The Later Quenta Silmarillion: (II) The Second Phase: Laws and Customs among the Eldar.”

Right away, Tolkien makes a distinction between Elves and Men: according to him, Men are horny as hell. Elves not so much: they like sex (the act): "the union of love is indeed to them great delight and joy." Casual sex is a no; and for the Eldar sex = marriage. So much so, that a couple is considered married if they exchange vows to the Valar (Tolkien never specified these vows, only that Manwë is mentioned) and have sex (no feast or celebration required): this usually happens when the couple is in flight, and exile, and wandering. 

All textual evidence seems to point out that the purpose of this act is to have children: 

“. . . the act of procreation, being of a will and desire shared and indeed controlled by the fëa [soul], was achieved at the speed of other conscious and willful acts of delight or of making. It was one of the acts of chief delight, in process and in memory, in an Elvish life, but its intensity alone provided its importance, not its time or length: it could not have been endured for a great length of time, without disastrous "expense" . . . it is longer and of more intense delight in Elves than in Men: too intense to be long endured.”

Elves, usually, don’t have many children (Fëanor being the exception: he had 7 sons), because they spent a lot of both their body (hröa) and soul (fëa) creating them, and Elven pregnancies can last from 1 year up to 100 years (wild). They don’t need a magical pregnancy test, because both parents know when a child was conceived. This date is also the day they celebrate their birthdays (and not the day when they were actually born). They also don’t have children during war time.

The eternal bond (= marriage; because divorce is forbidden) between Elves happens during sex; when they have sex for the first time their bodies and souls become one (= “union of souls”), and it’s a more intense physical and spiritual experience than for Men. Elves who have not had that union together have not yet established that incredible bond.

After children, the Elves also lose interest in having sex all together, and devote themselves to “higher pursuits”. Meaning, once children are born, the couple is now celibate: with the exercise of the power (of generation), the desire soon ceases, and the mind turns to other things... they have many other urgues of the body and of mind which their nature urges them to fulfill.

According to Tolkien, "Elf libidos" only last for a period of one to several hundred years (in their immortal lives). And they look back at the memory of this time with nostalgia. By nature, Tolkien writes that the Elves are seldom swayed by the desires of the body only, but are by nature continent and steadfast. Meaning: they are able to control their urges.

Now, here's the catch.

Sauron, being a fallen Maia of Melkor, doesn't care about any of this. He doesn’t follow the Valar rules, and he hates the Eldar.

In "Unfinished Tales", Tolkien does point out Galadriel as an exception to all of these rules: Celeborn was the lover of Galadriel, who she later wedded. Again, Tolkien doesn’t goes into details here, so we don’t know if “lover” was purely romantic (kissing, for instance) or full-on sexual, really. Either way, it’s been established in “Rings of Power” just how “alien” she is among her kin, overall. And she is a rebellious spirit, going against Gil-galad, her High King, on several occasions, and against the Valar themselves.

Well, she ended up marrying Celeborn after him being her lover, but they only had Celebrían thousands of year later, though. And “Rings of Power” also created another question mark here, because Galadriel only mentions her husband one time: he saw her dancing, they got married, he went to war, and she never saw him again. In the lore, Galadriel and Celeborn, being royalty, most likely had a feast (ceremony). So… does this mean that in “Rings of Power” canon, Galadriel never had her “union of souls” with Celeborn? And that explains why she fell in love with Halbrand/Mairon?

In the lore, we also the have the “little” detail of Elves only having “libido” for a short period of time in their immortal lives.

This is sexual awakening right here. We’ve seen Galadriel being proud, strong-willed and rebellious, but in this scene she looks like a “teenager” (even though she’s thousands of years old, already). Mairon made her speechless with that look. And we also see Galadriel flirting with him after this.

But in “Rings of Power”, Sauron and Galadriel had their “blood marriage ritual” too, and this was their “union of souls”.

Now, we need to look at what Tolkien created in his legendarium: where sex = children, and, most likely, any sexual act that goes against that is frowned upon (consider a corruption to Eru’s creation).

But Mairon, being corrupted by Melkor, doesn’t have any problems in indulging in sexual acts what don’t result in any children (conceiving a child would also cause him to bind himself to his physical form at the time, and he probably doesn’t want that). Galadriel herself isn’t on the mindset for children, also, and she already rebelled against the Valar, herself.

Tolkien estate said no sex scenes, but we sure had a lot of sexual innuendo going on between Galadriel and Mairon, ever since Season 1:

First with Halbrand aka Repentant Mairon: with whim Galadriel had her “sexual awakening”. He pulls her out of the water, and she’s pretty much naked before his eyes. I already wrote a post about the physical attraction between them, so I won’t get into that here.

Freudian symbolism is associated with sex representations, and was developed by both Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung (dreams can reveal a person’s deepest unconscious wishes and desires), but it has been widely used in pop culture and cinema to illustrate several ideas.

Why is this sneaky bastard grinning about?

Well, in Freudian symbolism the mouth is also a symbol for the female genitals, while the spoon is a phallic symbol. The act of eating symbolizes sexual intercourse (= interaction between male and female symbols). What’s why Mairon is grinning: he’s fantasizing all kind of sexual scenarios here.  

In Freudian Symbolism, knifes/daggers/lances/swords (any object resembling the penis in shape or that can be used to penetrate the body and cause injury) are phallic symbols. Meaning, they represent the penis. An erection (in which the penis raises itself against the force of gravity) is usually represented in connection with an air element (it can be ballons, airplanes, missiles, rockets, flying, snakes, etc.).  

The Freudian symbolism behind this scene? Mairon has a boner, and Galadriel is touching it.

Recently, this scene has been talked about a lot (in reference to Celeborn being called a "silver clam"), but that's not the only symbolism happening in here:

The Númenórean smiths tease Mairon, and ask him how close is he with the "she-elf." This Maia is eating ("sexual intercourse") clams, here. Worldwide, the clam is a clitoral symbol, meaning it represents the female genitalia. What does this means? Eating Galadriel out is, probably, what Mairon wants.

Jealous Mairon peacocking for dominance:

Galadriel is right in front of his salad handling all of these swords (phallic symbol). And he wants to assert his dominance, here. The only “sword” she’ll be handling around here is his. And he’s the best at it, too.

Then, in Season 2:

Right off the bat, Sauron is using a snake themed armor. In Freudian symbolism, the snake is also a phallic symbol, representing sexuality, temptation, and erection; and also repressed sexual desires. Sure this is meant to illustrate him as the "great deceiver", but it’s possible to “kill two birds with one stone”, and he only uses this armor in this particular scene.

Now, we have to forget the fight, and concentrate on the dialogue and the symbolism here. 

It has already been noted by many fellow fans that this fight is meant to illustrate Galadriel and Sauron history in Season 1 (the places where Sauron injures Galadriel). And I agree: the entire fight scene was Sauron taunting Galadriel with their shared past. 

Fighting tactics speaking this whole move is very strange. Symbolically, it's pretty much on the nose, as they say: a crown (clitoral symbol) penetrating a sword (phallic symbol) = sexual intercourse. And Sauron does this very aggressively and right in front of her face. Then, he spins the crown and one sword in on his shoulder, and the other on Galadriel’s = they are joined.

Want details? Galadriel is on top (just like Tolkien intended), and then Mairon becomes “the lost king who could ride you” to finish.

And then we have Sauron sounding his most aroused and unhinged yet, while saying these words, with this expression on his face: 

The next dialogue is Galadriel accusing him of everything between them (back in Season 1) being a lie, and another of his illusions. To which he replies (with Halbrand’s voice): 

Then, enters Halbrand: he speaks to her almost whispering, a bit breathless, too, like a lover, and Charlie puts emphasize in two bits of his dialogue: “at your side” and “that feeling”.  And the expression on his face: Halbrand looks desperate, tormented, yearning and nostalgic.

Which makes me ask the question: if this fight is meant to illustrate their past history... does this mean that these two have been sexually intimate already!? 

Where, you might ask? In Eregion, of course. Where we have Mairon naked on a bed being healed, and both he and Galadriel stayed there, according to Elrond in 2x01, “for weeks” (which might suggest a whole month or more).

Some time after his “healing” and being working with Celebrimbor, we also see Mairon getting “touchier” with Galadriel, and whispering on her ear. What changed? When and why did he got so comfortable doing this?

We, the audience, assume that Mairon goes immediately to Celebrimbor’s forge after he wakes up, but is that true?

Celebrimbor asks him “shouldn’t you be resting?”. This can imply he had already awakened from the healing and he should be getting some rest instead of wandering around. And Galadriel, being in love with him, would surely want to be in the room when that happens. But he’s searching for her, instead. And the last scene we saw from Galadriel, was her and Elrond in the room where Mairon was being healed by the Elves.

And this is when they start to look at each other more passionately, too, like actual lovers (and not "just friends"):

Not only that, but he was already planning on forging two rings (surely, one for himself and other for Galadriel). In Elven tradition, the betrothals exchange two silver rings (in this case it would be mithril).

This would also provide a new layer to Sauron commanding his (new) Orcs to destroy Eregion right in front of Galadriel, to get a reaction out of her. He’s petty like that.

This could also explain Charlotte Brändström’s words of how Halbrand “really seduced her”, and how much in love with him Galadriel is.

Galadriel heartbreak on 1x08 and Season 2

Galadriel went through all seven stages of grief in Season 2, concerning Halbrand aka Sauron. We saw her crying or on the verge of tears. She was heartbroken, believing she was deceived, and all that she experienced with Halbrand was a lie. And she wanted to kill the motherf*cker, all by herself, until the bitter end. Do you have something to hide there, Gal? She even thrown Elrond under the bus with Adar in 2x06 just to get a chance to do it.

It has been noticed by some fellow fans, that Galadriel would, often, touch her lower stomach whenever having visions from Nenya, and we saw her planting seeds, too. This highly implies fertility. Now, this doesn’t mean she’s actually pregnant, mind you! But it can symbolize previous sexual acts.

It’s also worth mentioning that, in Freudian symbolism, jewels (such as rings) represent a beloved person.

What is Galadriel so afraid of? Wasn’t Halbrand “only a friend”? 

When Sauron appears in 2x08, Galadriel is absolutely terrified, unable to move. She’s not scared of him, per say; she dreads that he might still be on Halbrand form, and she isn't certain on how she would react to that. But he’s in Annatar form, and she doesn’t have any emotional connection to it. Still, she’s only able to attack him when he had his back turned on her. And then, her expression when she sees Halbrand is very telling:

Sauron and Mirdania

Of course the “great deceiver” who manages to “deceive even himself” got himself a Galadriel doppelgänger when he returned to Eregion to put his “rings of power” masterplan in motion. And he only gets touchy with her whenever he thinks of Galadriel.  

He also disposed of Mirdania when Adar arrived at Eregion (with Galadriel herself on a cage).

This whole business with Mirdania is something physical on Sauron’s part, because he sees the resemblance with Galadriel. And the fact that he touches her so tenderly is interesting to say the least, because (1) we’ve seen Sauron hating being touched throughout Season 2 (even by Mirdania herself), and (2) he’s an immortal spirit from the Unseen world (Maia); he doesn’t actually have any of these needs... Unless he's remembering touching Galadriel herself, and his sexual desire for her.

And what's the last injury that Sauron inflicts on Galadriel on their 2x08 fight?

Full-on penetration. And he doesn't go gentle with it, either. And it ends with him literally ejaculating (blood) inside of her (chest), aka blood binding.

This is pretty much what Tolkien wrote in “Unfinished Tales”, except the lover here is Halbrand/Mairon/Sauron, and he wants commitment (marriage).

Galadriel denies him in Season 1, and again in Season 2. And then, he forces them to bind together, all the same. This could also explain why Sauron was so certain she would actually bind herself to him, in spite of all the evil stuff he has done in Eregion. 

And we have this “lovely” description of Sauron during his war with the Elves (which will be Season 3):

Now Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor. He brooked no freedom nor any rivalry, and he named himself Lord of the Earth. A mask he still could wear so that if he wished he might deceive the eyes of Men, seeming to them wise and fair.

Sauron’s lust will know no bounds in Season 3, good to know. He already bore a hole in Galadriel for the rest of him to slither in, so, only Eru knowns what kind of mind palace shenanigans will he be up to… symbolically.

[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

[phoenixyfriend]

Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes

It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.

At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*

Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)

So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.

Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.

Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.

Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.

Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)

@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):

Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????

Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.

I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.

Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)

The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the original timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)

Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized

Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.

They point out that he is Baby.

😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.

Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.

At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.

(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)

It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments

Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.

!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]

The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...

He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)

Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.

Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.

the indignity

You just. You can't let him get too self-important.

Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.

The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.

Also Maul's there.

Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!

Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.

You know, the classic anime head bite

Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things

tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit

Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.

They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊

They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.

Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).

Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)

I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there

Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation

Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension

* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 11 - Gags

Ghost x Soap - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost has a unique way to get the mouthy new prospect to learn when to shut up. Johnny is more into it than he probably should be. (Soap POV)

cw: dom!ghost, sub!soap, undernegotiated kink, muzzles, johnny doesn't technically consent but he is into everything happening here, consensual oral sex

note: this doesn't feature gags very heavily tbh, but they are technically there so i'm counting it! also it's very unedited, leave me alone

Johnny scowls, poking the thing on the table in front of him with one finger like it’ll jump out and bite him. “The hell is this?”

Ghost crosses his arms over his chest, the worn mask covering any reaction Johnny might be able to parse. He’s hardly a foot from Johnny, staying at his side instead of keeping the card table between them. “You gone dumb?”

Johnny scowls, kicking back in his seat and balancing the metal chair on two legs, one foot planted on the ground and the other over his knee. “Och, ye ken I’m sharp. Dinnae ken what you want me to do with tha’, though. Ye’ve really got to learn to use yer words, Ghostie. Not sure how anyone ‘round here ever–”

Johnny doesn’t finish his sentence, the air knocked out of him as his chair is knocked off balance and he falls flat on his ass. He oofs when he hits the ground, blinking dumbly up at the man above him.

Ghost hooks his foot around the leg of the chair he’d just kicked over, shoving it back up and away from Johnny. “Sit properly, you damn brat.”

Johnny rubs his head a bit, sitting up and scowling. “Ye always been this much of an arsehole?”

He gets the distinct sense that Ghost is cocking an eyebrow, even if he can’t see it. “Yes. Now sit in the chair like a goddamn adult.”

Johnny obeys silently, mentally licking his wounds and giving Ghost a pointed glare as he sets both of his feet firmly on the ground, all four chair legs steady. 

“Good,” Ghost grunts, a pathetic excuse for praise that still has Johnny sitting a little straighter in the chair. “Now put the muzzle on or I’ll do it for you.”

Johnny’s eyes widen a fraction as they dart between the black lump sitting on the table in front of him and the biker now stepping close enough to touch. “Oh, no…” he says, nudging at the thing again with a knuckle until it lays a little flatter, the shape of it obvious now. “Ye’ve got to be kiddin’ me.”

Ghost is dead silent, tapping his fingers on one bicep as he stares down at Johnny.

“Ye want to fuckin’ muzzle me?” Johnny growls, lip curling. “Like a dog?”

Ghost’s head cocks to the side, eyelids low. “You clearly can’t keep your mouth shut. You know how much we had to pay off Keller to keep him from calling the pigs after that brawl you started?”

Johnny can’t stop his lips from curling up at the memory of that night – it’s not often a man gets the chance to see bottles and fists flying like that, and the vicious reaming he’d gotten from Price had been more than worth it. 

“Nothin’ for you to be smirkin’ about,” Ghost growls, planting one big hand on the table and leaning even closer. “You keep gettin’ yourself in trouble, just trusting we’ll be there to pull you out. You ain’t even a brother yet – no patch, no cut. You’re lucky we don’t string you up for the other prospects to use as a punching bag with the way you act.”

Johnny scowls, hackles raising. “I do more work than any of the other prospects combined. Ye tellin’ me the boys can’t handle some trouble every now and then?”

“It ain’t every now and then, and it doesn’t matter what we can handle,” Ghost says, leaning close enough that his nose is just inches away from Johnny’s. “You’re a prospect. Your job is to do the dirty work so the brothers don’t have to and to keep your head down. You,” he jabs a finger in Johnny’s face, tone deepening. “Are pissin’ people off.”

Ghost stands back up, grabbing the muzzle from the table and straightening out the two thick leather straps. “So I’m gonna set you straight. You’ll wear this until I figure you can be trusted with your mouth again.”

“Hold on–” Johnny starts, pushing himself up from the chair with flaming cheeks and an actively bruising ego. He doesn’t get a chance to finish his complaint, Ghost using one hand to force him back into his chair and the other to smack the muzzle over Johnny’s mouth.

“Mmph!” Johnny grunts, clawing at Ghost’s hands and trying to yank the leather off his face. Ghost shifts so his hand holds his jaw closed, but Johnny can already feel that the material is stiff enough around his underchin that he wouldn’t be able to talk even without the palm over his mouth. Something hard presses against his lips, and he seals them shut as best he can.

“Always fuckin’ bitching,” Ghost complains, his free hand shoving Johnny forward by the back of his head, moving behind his body and using his weight to hold Johnny’s chest flat to the table, arm laid heavily over his shoulder blades. “You just never shut up, do you?”

Johnny tries to shout, writhing as best he can under Ghost as he feels the straps being tightened around his head. One wraps around the back of his neck, connected to the bottom corners of the muzzle, while the other laces above his ears and around his skull, keeping the mask tight to his face. 

There’s something flat and hard in the bottom of it, pressing his jaw closed and keeping him from opening his mouth when the muzzle is fully tightened. With the way he’s being pushed into the muzzle as Ghost ties it, the hard plastic against his lips forces them open so it can rest between his teeth, just thick enough to keep his mouth open around it but soft enough that he can chew on it.

Ghost grunts as he pushes back off Johnny, hand planted at the base of his skull to hold him down. Johnny’s eyes fly wide in panic as he hears the soft sound of something metal clinking over his shoulder, two little cold spots coming to rest just beneath the straps.

“There,” Ghost grunts, his weight disappearing suddenly and letting Johnny up. He rockets away from the table as quickly as he can, hands flying to the mask and fumbling with it.

It’s made of good, thick leather, with something to hold the shape of a muzzle in the material and a few holes poked in front of his mouth and nose so he doesn’t suffocate despite the plastic in his mouth. The straps are thick, the metal buckles digging into the shaved sides of his head, and when he reaches back to try and undo them he feels small, metal squares hanging off each one.

A soft jingling sound yanks Johnny’s attention back over to Ghost, his heart in his throat. Ghost is tugging a necklace away from his chest, thumb holding it out far enough that Johnny can clearly see the little silver key dangling from the chain.

He tries to worm his fingers beneath the straps, then tries the edges of the muzzle. Neither work. He pushes his tongue against the thing between his teeth, but it doesn’t move even an inch.

“You’ll stay locked in that until Price or I decide you’ve earned another chance,” Ghost says, tucking the key back beneath his shirt. “If you fuck this up, you’re done. No more prospecting.”

That makes Johnny panic almost more than the muzzle, the thought of losing even the chance of a new family almost too much to bear.

Ghost barrels ahead, unbothered by the way Johnny’s chest heaves as he scratches at the leather. “You want to eat, you come find me. You want to drink, you come find me. We’ll get you taken care of. But you try and get anyone to take that off for you, and you’re never steppin’ foot back in the clubhouse. Understood?”

Johnny nods slowly, adrenaline begining to fade as the reality of his new position settles in. He forces his breathing to calm a bit, letting himself consider just how restricting the muzzle really is.

Ghost’s mask is as still and impassive as ever, but there’s the slightest hint of approval in his tone. “Good. Now get outta here, I got shit to do.”

Johnny’s not proud of how quickly he leaves, but his focus on getting to his room so he can hide just barely drowns out the harsh laugh coming from behind him.

Johnny doesn’t leave his room at all the next day. Hungry as he is, his ego hurts more than his stomach and the thought of facing any of the boys with this thing on his face is enough to keep him under lockdown.

Day two isn’t as easy, and reality begins to set in before the sun even rises.

He’s not getting the muzzle off. Ghost isn’t coming to him, he’s got to go to Ghost. That’s just the way it is, and Johnny has to find a way to work with it.

He creeps out of his room at five a.m., his hunger having kept him awake for most of the night. He’s far more focused on keeping himself near-silent than he usually is at this time, cringing at the thought of one of the boys coming out to see who’s slinking around and coming face to face with Johnny and his muzzle. 

He knocks on Ghost’s door as quietly as he can, thankful that the enforcer still lives in the clubhouse even if most of the patched-in members have their own places. It’s really just the prospects and a couple of the executive members who live in the main house full time, but luckily Ghost is one of them.

Johnny has to knock several times before the door is finally thrown open in front of him to show Ghost maskless and glaring, wearing only a pair of boxers. 

Johnny blinks a few times quickly, gives himself just a single heartbeat to glance at the miles of pale skin in front of him, then forces himself to make eye-contact, toying with the attachment between his teeth. He’s seen Ghost’s face a couple times before, usually in the gym, but it’s a rare enough thing that it still feels like a treat – even with the mean twist to Ghost’s lips.

“Do you have any idea what fuckin’ time it is?”

Johnny blinks innocently, holding up a five with his fingers. Ghost’s scowl grows, and Johnny finds himself thankful for the muzzle for the first time when it hides his smirk.

“Get in here,” Ghost grunts, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and shoving him into the room. He stumbles, taken off guard, but quickly straightens back up and runs a hand through his hair, glaring at Ghost. 

“You spent all day yesterday hiding and pouting, makin’ Gaz do all your chores, then you wake me up at the ass crack of dawn,” Ghost complains, shouldering past Johnny to sit heavily on his bed, the mattress squeaking beneath his weight. “Let me guess, you’re hungry?”

Johnny nods eagerly, taking quick steps forward. It’s not quite as embarrassing as he thought it would be to wear the muzzle in front of Ghost. He doesn’t sit beside the enforcer, unwilling to risk pissing him off when his stomach is rumbling so strongly.

Ghost narrows his eyes before sighing and reaching up to pull the key forward, taunting him wih it. “On your knees, then.”

Johnny hestates, shifting his weight.

Ghost glares up at him, snapping expectantly. “Well? I can’t fuckin’ reach you from here, can I?”

Part of Johnny wants to mime his way through insisting that Ghost just stand to unlock the damn muzzle. Still, a much larger, much hungrier, much hornier part of him is more than willing to drop to his knees for this man.

He takes it a little far, maybe, inching forward until he’s firmly between Ghost’s legs and his knees are resting against the box spring his mattress rests on, kneeling up high and using Ghost’s thighs to balance himself. But Johnny’s always been a bit of a slut, and he can see the outline of Ghost’s cock through his boxers, and really he’s only a man.

Ghost pushes his head down until his chin is pressed against his chest, broad palm and calloused fingers easily holding Johnny in place so he can tug the small locks off. A moment later he laces his fingers through the thick mohawk, pulling Johnny’s face up and catching the muzzle as it falls.

Johnny can’t help but groan, stretching his jaw and rubbing it with one hand, leaning his weight to the side and onto one of Ghost’s thighs.. “Fuckin’ hell,” he complains, rubbing his face against the back of his hand. “Could hardly breathe in tha’ thing.”

Ghost scoffs, lightly cuffing Johnny in the side of the head. “Don’t be dramatic, you’re fine.” His nose curls a moment later as he drops the muzzle by his side. “Breath fuckin’ reeks though.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry,” Johnny sneers. “I couldnae exactly brush my teeth – ye see, a controlling bastard locked me in a fuckin’ muzzle!”

Ghost rests his big hand on the side of Johnny’s face, a threat of something more violent. “And you’re proving exactly why I did it right now with all that fucking chatter. If you knew how to shut the fuck up, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, and I wouldn’t be having to babysit you.” He smacks his palm lightly against Johnny’s cheek, smirking at the instinctual flinch. “Now stay.”

Johnny listens, but not without complaining, watching as Ghost lumbers to the en suite. “Muzzles, and now commands? Ye do know I’m a fuckin’ man, don’t ye? I won’t run through tunnels or wag my tail or whatever other weird shit you want me to do.”

Ghost comes back hardly a minute later, damp toothbrush with toothpaste laid out on it in hand and a distinctly unimpressed expression. Johnny’s smirk grows.

“Maybe ye’re into this, is that it? I won’t kinkshame, mate – if ye like yer ladies barkin’ for ye in bed, more power to ye.” He holds his hands up mockingly as Ghost settles back in front of him, feet set closer on either side of Johnny’s knees than they were before. “Doesnae work for me, o’ course, so ye’d probably get off quicker if ye found one of the club whores to–”

Johnny’s rudely interupted by the toothbrush being shoved into his mouth with no warning. He rears back, grabbing Ghost’s wrist to try and yank him away and utterly failing. Ghost levels him with an unimpressed look, eyebrow cocked as he roughly shoves the toothbrush to the back of Johnny’s mouth, scrubbing his molars.

“Do you need somethin’ in your mouth to keep you quiet, is that it?” Ghost asks, his other hand coming around to grab Johnny by the back of the neck and reel him closer, holding him still as he begins to brush his teeth. “Need someone to force you to do somethin’ with it or you just won’t listen, huh?”

Johnny grunts a disagreement, eyes twisted up as he cringes from Ghost’s rough treatment. Much more of this and he’s sure his gums’ll be bleeding. 

“Still,” Ghost orders, holding Johnny steady enough that he has no problem thoroughly scrubbing every bit of hit teeth. “Tongue out,” he says, and Johnny hardly hesitates this time, letting his tongue loll out and rest on his lip, albeit with a glare.

He doesn’t miss the way Ghost’s eyes heat at the sight, or the way the outline of his cock becomes more pronounced when the brush reaches far enough back in Johnny’s throat that he gags.

He plays it up a little. So what? Ghost is probably the hottest person he’s ever seen, and Johnny doesn’t shy away from a chance to work up the people around him, especially when they’re almost naked and shoving something to the back of his throat. 

When Ghost deems him clean – well, his mouth clean, he completely ignores the copious amounts of drool and toothpaste dripping down Johnny’s chin that neither of them have bothered to wipe away – he squeezes Johnny’s neck, once, pulling away.

“Go spit that out,” he says, nudging Johnny’s knee with his foot and passing him the brush. “Then come back and we’ll get you fed. Then you can leave me the hell alone.”

Johnny doesn’t even pretend that he believes Ghost’s grouchy tone, just smirks and crudely swipes at the drool on his face as he heads to the en suite.

When he comes back out the TV has been turned on to a channel playing some old reruns of a sitcom he just vaguely recognizes, and he sees Ghost typing something on his phone, feet still set wide enough to allow Johnny to sink to his knees between them again. He glances down when Johnny does that, but largely ignores him until he finishes whatever he was typing. 

“Another prospect’ll bring up breakfast in a few,” he says a few minutes later, phone discarded on the bed as he looks down at Johnny. “You’ll have to find a way to make it up to them, all these extra chores they’ve gotta do for you.”

Johnny scowls, insulted. “I carry my weight around here,” he defends, leaning back on his ankles a bit when Ghost only rumbles a low sound. “I do! I get more assignments than any of the other prospects, and I clean up after them when they make a mess anyway.”

“Still,” Ghost hums. Wrapping his hand around the back of Johnny’s head and dragging him closer. “You’ll have to keep doin’ all that, even now. You can’t just hide away until I decide you’ve earned your voice again.”

Johnny glares a bit, any heat that was building in his core fading rapidly as the conversation carries on. “I’m not fuckin’ hiding.”

“You didn’t leave your room once yesterday,” Ghost says, deadpan.

Johnny almost wants to growl. “I was tired.”

Ghost snorts, fingers scratching lightly at the shaved side of Johnny’s head. “Sure, pup. Whatever you say.”

Johnny forces himself not to reply to that, sure that he’d somehow just dig himself into a deeper pit. The muzzle still lays next to Ghost’s thigh, and it doesn’t escape Johnny that he’s got no control of when it goes back on his face. 

Silence has never come easily to Johnny before, but he finds it surprisingly not-diffuclt to indulge now, letting himself sit quietly between Ghost’s knees as the TV drones on behind him. Ghost’s hand shifts to the top of his head, fingers combing through his hair and his nails lightly dragging across sensitive skin. 

It’s no less than five minutes later when Ghost speaks again.

“You wanna suck my cock?”

Johnny considers, for a very brief moment, being offended. That passes quickly when he sees that Ghost is entirely serious, not even a hint of humor on his face, and Johnny cautiously shifts on his knees. “Ye serious? Thought ye liked the birds, Ghost.”

Ghost grunts, neither a confirmation or a denial. “You want me in your mouth or not?”

Johnny waits a second, considers it. He knows he’s going to say yes, but he tries to give the appearance of not being too easy. From the lazy way Ghost watches him, he’s sure that he’s not fooling the older biker, but he’s got enough pride to try.

Still, only a few breaths later he nods and says, “Pull it out, then.”

Ghost snorts, but listens, pulling his cock from his boxers and tugging at it lazily.

Johnny’s mouth starts watering as soon as he sees it, desperate to wrap his lips around the enforcer and taste his cum. He leans forward on instinct, tounge stretching out to try and lick Ghost and bring him to full hardness.

“No,” Ghost scolds, and the hand in Johnny’s hair suddenly shifts into a much tighter grip, holding him away from the cock hanging in front of his face. “I didn’t give you permission yet, did I? This is why you need that muzzle, pup, you’ve got no control over yourself.”

Johnny gives Ghost a look. “Ye like controllin’ me plenty for the both o’ us.”

Ghost smirks. “That’s why you’re gonna take me down your throat and let me lock that muzzle on with my cum in your mouth.”

“What about breakfast?”

Ghost finally drags Johnny closer, resting the ruddy head of his cock against Johnny’s cupid’s bow. “We’ll see if you can earn it.”

Johnny opens his mouth to defend himself, but before he can get even a word out, Ghost is pushing his head forward and filling his mouth with cock. 

Johnny makes a surprised sound, tongue squirming against the underside of Ghost’s length. His hands insticutally spasm against Ghost’s thigh, but he gets himself under control a moment later and relaxes into the slow push of the hand on the back of his neck.

“There you go,” Ghost groans, thighs falling open more on either side of Johnny as he leans into the pleasure. “Take all of me, c’mon.”

Johnny wraps one of his hands as best he can around Ghost’s thigh, holding on tight as he forces himself to breathe through his nose and gag as little as possible. He can’t help the way he tears up a bit, breaths puffing harshly from his nostrils. 

Ghost groans above him when Johnny’s lips seal around the base of his cock, throat working furiously to milk him. “Fuck, that’s a good mouth.”

Johnny tries to pull back a bit and start to really suck Ghost’s soul from his cock, but the hand on the back of his head doesn’t let him move an inch, only grinds his face a little more deeply into his crotch. Johnny reaches up brush away the few tears leaking from his eyes and nearly chokes when Ghost groans, thrusting up into his mouth.

“You look pretty when you cry,” Ghost rumbles, leading Johnny’s head in a slow journey back up his cock, not letting it slip from his lips. “Much prettier than when you bitch.”

Johnny tries to force himself to be offended, but he’s far too busy focusing on the way Ghost slides his face up and down his cock, trying to suck and lick where he can to maintain some control of the situation.

Ghost uses his mouth almost like a fleshlight, holding Johnny  so tightly that he can’t move any faster or slower than he’s allowed to, forced to stay at the exact pace Ghost wants. It drives him a little crazy, the total lack of control he has even though it’s his mouth making Ghost moan above him.

Ghost holds him closer to the tip of his dick for a few moments, just sawing the first few inches of his cock beween Johnny’s lips. On instict, Johnny lets his teeth graze the head just a bit, enough to be sure that Ghost can feel it, and a few thrusts later Ghost is shooting down his throat.

In the surge of his orgasm Ghost’s hand goes limp, and Johnny is able to shove his face down to the very base of Ghost’s cock so his cum goes right down his throat, milking him as best he can. Ghost’s groans are loud from above him, and Johnny palms his own half-hard dick as he drinks the spunk down. 

When Ghost finally lets him pull off, Johnny can’t help but smirk proudly, brushing the back of his hand over his lips to clean off any drool and practically preening between Ghost’s legs.

The older man only huffs, tucking himself back into his boxers and looking down at Johnny with what almost seems like fondness.

“Should’ve told Price I’d keep you gagged like that instead,” he muses, reaching forward to thumb at the corner of Johnny’s lip. “Put this mouth to good use instead of just shuttin’ you up. Two birds, one stone, yeah?”

Johnny scoffs and rolls his eyes, but leans into the hand on his face. “Ye’d never get any work done. I’d have you sucked dry before ye could even have breakfast.”

Ghost snorts, and Johnny feels his chest warm a bit at the sound. It only cools the slightest bit when Ghost reaches for the muzzle, straightening the leather in his hands a bit.

Johnny leans back on his haunches, trying not to scowl. “What about letting me eat?”

Ghost tilts his head, considering. “You let me put this back on you until food’s ready and I’ll let you hump my leg to get yourself off, how’s that sound?”

Johnny hesitates a moment, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Or,” Ghost continues, rolling his shoulders back and straightening until he truly looms over Johnny. “You can keep this off and kneel between my legs downstairs, let everyone see how much better behaved you already are.”

Johnny scowls at that, cheeks flaming. He leans forward, pushing himself up with his palms on Ghost’s thigh and presents his face for the muzzle. He doesn’t bother saying a word, letting his half-glare do the work for him.

Ghost only smirks, locking the muzzle around his jaw with an efficiency that speaks to practice. Johnny opens his mouth easily for the attachment this time, jaw aching slightly at the forced spread. 

“Good choice,” Ghost says, locking it tight around Johnny’s head. He leans back a moment later, pushing Johnny down with a heavy hand on his shoulder and shifting a leg between his. 

“Now,” Ghost says, tapping his foot on the ground and running a hand over the smooth leather covering Johnny’s face. “Why don’t you get yourself off so you can relax, hm?”

Mask hiding the feral smile growing on his lips, Johnny wraps his arms around Ghost’s leg and lets his hips work against the muscle pressed against him.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Jones confirms that, just like in Rice’s books, Armand is the one who turns Daniel into a vampire. “Will we see that moment of turning? No, but Armand finally made a vampire and clearly made him out of spite,” he says with a laugh. “It looks like it was really not a great moment [between him and Daniel], but that connects those two characters. They will have scenes going forward, obviously.”

This is from the latest Rollins interview. I feel like an idiot now, I was desperately hoping that we would see the turning next season - but while I think Rollins may not reveal everything I don’t think he would outright lie. So we won’t see the turning.

I walked into the finale open to an exclusively present-day DM that might(!) kick-off and I didn’t expect too much given what screeners had warned about. I never thought Daniel would be turned completely off-screen however… I know there’s rumours they might write DM into the past still, but I’m a fan of Daniel and Armand outside of the ship as well and knowing we won’t see Daniel’ turning, probably won’t see anything of his first time with becoming a vampire (because of the time skip) and seeing that Armand might(?) actually have turned someone out of spite makes me just sad.

I also feel a bit off-put by how Rollins is speaking about if, feels a bit like he’s trying to affirm to fans well see more of them together (maybe surprised that so many people are invested?) but also just gives off the vibe that the DM if it all wasn’t fully planned out in the moment of writing. Which sucks when you decide to have one turn the other! This frankly does not inspire confidence and make me feel like my favourite characters been reduced to plot devices (in good writing characters can be both character and plot tool but now this doesn’t feel like it).

F*ck I’m sorry, I realise this is not a fun post to read, I just feel really upset. Thank you for hearing me out!

Okay. So.

I let this simmer a bit (and I still have a lot of catching up to do with the interviews, since, well, vacation 😅, so thanks for the quotes).

BUT.

You know what I was chewing on? Armand and… spite.

When does Armand do something out of spite.

And… I came up only with one distinct event that I, personally, would call spite, namely when he goes and has that affair with that english guy - to spite Marius.

Marius. Not yet introduced as a character, but more than hinted at. The one Daniel has also a relationship with in the books.

And here we’re back to my theory that DM did happen in the past… and that Marius wiped Daniel‘s memories.

Eric let spill recently that there might be something between Raglan and Daniel and… well on one hand… but you know if Raglan, as I also theorized, is actually Marius… then that would make a lot of sense.

DM happened in the past. Marius intervened (like he likes to do). Standing order is to leave Daniel alone (maybe). But… Daniel gets sick. They redo the interview. The “surprise“ after dinner, that never comes to pass (Louis wanting to turn Daniel for Armand?!). Louis leaving Armand with Daniel, (utterly pissed at Armand and therefore retracting his promise to turn Daniel) forcing Armand’s hand… Armand… knowing that if Daniel leaves now he will die soon.

And Armand turns Daniel - out of spite.

But not to spite Louis, or Daniel. Nor are they enemies (that‘s BS and given how Assad has talked about Loumand and what it has been on the show I do call BS here).

No, he does it to spite Marius, who wants Daniel mortal (for whatever reason). He does it IN spite of Marius‘ standing order. THAT woukd make sense to me.

And it would also explain why Armand isn’t there after… Marius might have come by for a… chat.

I know this sounds wild.

But honestly - spite? Anger?!! No. That doesn’t make any sense to me. And, I‘m sorry Assad, but I‘m side-eying your statements there after the Loumand ones. *shrugs*

So.

It sucks that we maybe won’t get the turning.

But I BET - I bet they have a good reason for that. Because it would contradict what they’re trying to establish for now.

It will be a big twist for show-only fans after all when it will be made clear why Armand turned him truly.

So. These are my thoughts, after chewing on it for a bit. Knowing Rolin likes to troll a bit obviously plays into that as well. And Hannah‘s tweet.

We‘ll see how it will hold. :)

[literallys-illiteracy]

Ok its time to talk about Vergillius

SPOILERS CANTO 7 PART 3, MENTIONS OF EVENTS IN BOTH DISTORTION DETECTIVE AND LEVIATHAN

Ok so this is somewhat split into two parts, the first is talking a little in medium length about Virgillius as a character and the newer things in part 3, as well as some prior things that are interesting enough to discuss, the second part is about rivers.

Ok so, Verg. Virg is an interesting character as he has prior story to Limbus Company, in Leviathan of course, relating to Charon/Lapis, with several things yet to be expanded on. Lapis is in all likelyhood his primary motivation for continuing this contract with Limbus Company, as he is likely to know at least somewhat of the true nature of Limbus Company, being an extension of the Udjat (as partially confirmed by Moses' appearance alongside Vespa, whom would have returned to N corp should Moses's mission of capturing distortions be finished, and the fact that distortions of the companies contracts are captured rather than resolved) (also there was a hint towards the relation that Outis has towards the Udjat as well in this canto, the first part, wherein Moses's gaze rests upon Outis for longer (War veteran lesbians) than the other sinners; This is interesting for the obvious link of Odysseus blinding a cyclops, in fact:

Outis for a moment:

Putting Virgil on the back-burner for a moment, lets theorise about Outis potentially; So there are two possibilites for the relation that Outis and Moses have, the first being that they had previously passed each other in the Smoke War in the past, the second is that they had known each other through some relation to the Udjat or Diaz. Odysseus's most famous act of blinding a cyclops, and fooling Polyphemus by claiming to be named "nobody" or, in greek, "Outis". Outis's current name may suggest multiple things, the most striking of which is related to Limbus Companies relation with the Udjat as mentioned prior; There is a possibility that Outis's blinding of the cyclops, often assumed to be the Udjat even prior to this canto due to their motif being a singular eye, may be yet to happen. The theory of Outis being a traitor is nothing new, i think everyone knows that she isnt fully trustworthy (especially with her mention of killing tens of thousand in the past during the Sancho fight), however i rarely see people discuss the reasoning behind the betrayal, being that similar to Moses's current position taken in reverse, regretting her time working in the Udjat (we're getting presumptuous now) and repenting for it by blinding the cyclops from the inside, from within Limbus Company — This concept is furthered through Outis's sinner symbol (vaguely) resembling that of a horses snout, alongside Odysseus's relation to the Trojan Horse, a plan to invade and take troy from the inside (however this changes the timeline somewhat with the other theoretical aspects?), ok thats enough about military wife.

-

In the beginning of Canto 7's dungeon, we see Don Quixote's past memories, including her recruitment within Limbus Company and HOLY SHIT VERGIL IS A BLOODFIEND?

ok so, he didn't have or at least show any blood powers prior to manifesting EGO, we arent sure if a bloodfiend can fully manifest EGO either however its not out of the question due to Don's La Sangre De Sancho, even before he was a colour he possessed the same red eyes, which if im remembering correctly were stated to be a combat implement. However, in the flashback, Veggie claims that he, or rather, his *eyes* hold a higher generation than Don, which would of course be fist generation. Due to many reasons, I don't actually believe that Vigil is a bloodfiend, notably his clarification of "eyes". If we return to the basement of canto 6, Virtue's passives include one named "Eyes of a Friend Who [][][][]", redacted in the same manner that Catherine's name commonly is — I think that because of his clear distinction of his eyes possessing the higher generation, the statement that is made of them being combat implements, and the implication that the eyes were not originally his, i think that its safe to assume that this friend who [][][][] is a bloodfiend elder (hell it might even be the primogenitor i dont know). working on the assumption that [][][][] means "died", or means that they were somehow erased post-death, then there are multiple possibilities ive seen posed: the first, and im noting this purely out of spite because i still think im correct over this person, is that "Vinyl was bluffing about being a bloodfiend to intimidate Don". Personally, and only some offence meant to the person who posited this, i think that this isn't really a theory worth considering, not only is it more convoluted to assume that the oposite of what we've been told is true in an involuntary flashback seeing Don's past, but at the same time what use would Viate have to lie in that moment? His reaction immediately after wouldn't make sense without the bloodfiendish nature in place either, as, at least in my reading of the scene, Don's complete lack of reaction or primal fear (such that appears in the other bloodfiends when facing the wrath of an elder, such as Casseti in WARP), was what Viral used to judge that all of her bloodfiendish instincts were supressed.

Ok moving on from spite.

The second ive seen posed is that Virgo "diablerised" (or ate - in order to gain the power of, to non VTM players) a bloodfiend elder friend in the past. Due to the [redacted] nature of the phrasing within the passive name, unless Vexing is Chainsaw Man, i doubt this to be the case, unless somehow said [Friend] merged with Vroom-vroom in the past, becoming the same entity.

Similar but somewhat different to the previous theory is that the eyes were gifted post mortem to Vindigo-elder, which fits with the concept of them being implements.

personally, im just not really sure about this in any way shape or form.

Ive also seen some theories as to who Viori's "friend" was, and the most likely one ive seen posed... actually the only one ive seen posed, is that of Longinus, the soldier who stabbed Jesus on the cross, due to Vargalia's EGO having the crown of thorns, due to Virgil(real life one so he doesn't get a name change)'s relation to Catholicism through the Commedia, through the Roman links, and through the connection to both blood and water, as:

"One of the soldiers pierced his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water.

I personally dont have too much to add to that theory, however i would like to take my own shot in the dark, enough shots and you've covered every angle:

My proposed [Friend] is Aeneas, whom, after dying, was never found a corpse, and was thereafter worshiped as a god. Aeneas has links to Virgil (once again, the historical one) due to his poem of the Aeneid, which was the first poem to properly weave together the many disparate strands of legend into the singular myth that stories were based on sense. There is also the obvious link to be made with the "golden bough" being the name of a chapter within the 6th book of the Aeneid, but that wasnt what prompted this it just helps at bit.

ok rivers

Im not talking on this at length, as i am far from an expert on the Commedia, and also because Loony Toons exists and is probably more likely to note a link between it and the rivers of the underworld (i dont know, ive not checked whats to be said about Canto 7 since release yet), but i want to note the different mythological rivers that are linked to the river of oblivion, or "Lethe" as Outis calls it.

Lethe, meaning forgetfulness or oblivion, is a river in the underworld with many literary ties, such as Goethe's Faust (part 2), the Commedia, Paradise Lost, and, arguably, The Wonderful Land of Oz, all of which are literature referenced by Project Moon at various points.

The Lethe is mentioned twice in the Commedia, once in the inferno, canto 34, flowing down into Cocytus, the river of "Lament", which freezes to form the 9th and final layer of hell, treachery. In the second Cantica, Purgatorio, the Lethe is mentioned again, in canto 31 of purgatorio, as being placed upon the hill of purgatory, within this river Dante is then submerged to forget all memories of sin, so that his body may move forth into paradise. The water containing the sin then flows down to contain satan in Cocytus.

somewhat interesting to note, as the game has been confirmed to be getting a Purgatorio and Paradisio, it is possible that this will come back later. Foreshadowing is a literary device in whic-

Another thing, back on Loony Tunes, if we're assuming their current timeline to be correct in terms of canto 7 being within the Circle of Violence, which is an assertion that i will return to at a later date, then its important to note that another river of the underworld is belonging to this ring, being Pyriphlegethon or Phlegethon, meaning flaming, which in the inferno, canto 12, is a river of Boiling blood which in the sinners of the ring are submerged in, (specifically those within the first sphere of the ring, for violence against your neighbours) — the blood motif is obvious, alongside the violence against ones neighbors; If we were to assume that the entirety of Canto 7 takes place within this river, then the next would take place in the second sphere, Violence against your self, but once again, i will return to this concept when you are older, by a few hours at least.

[floral-system-hdg]

A Soldiers Rest - HDG x Halo 2 chapter micro fic, part one

Standard HDG content warnings apply - kinky plants, xenodruggies, and nsfw themes

_________________________________________

Joanne sighed softly as she stepped into the room she and her Mistress shared. As usual, the room was neat, save for the bed which was yet to be made. The room smelled of lavender, and the distinct smell that her Mistress gave off, something Joanne couldn't place her finger on.

Discarding those thoughts from her mind, she walked up to the bedside table, opening it up, and taking its contents out onto the bed. A helmet, and a damaged piece of a chestplate. The helmet was scarred, burnt, its visor cracked. Where the color was a perfect sage before, it was now worn from countless years in combat. The same was true for the chestplate, except it was in even worse condition. All that remained was a piece from the upper part of it, charred around the edges. Written in scratched paint, were the numbers ‘117’.

These were relics from her past, before she realized that the Compact were the good guys. From before they even had arrived. Her memory was sometimes foggy regarding her past, but she remembered a few key details. How she had been kidnapped by ONI at a young age, trained, and then given augmentations to make her better. Stronger, faster, smarter, just better.

She also remembered her team, Blue Team. Out of all the Spartans, only a few had survived before the Affini arrived. Luckily, Linda, Kelly, and Fred were on this ship, and they had been the best friends a floret could ask for. She viewed them more as her sisters and brother, to be honest.

She couldn't remember most of her combat however, but that was fine. Those were traumatic experiences that she didn't want to revisit if she didn't have to.

She only really remembered the first few conflicts that happened upon the Compacts arrival. How she fought alongside Blue Team and the Arbiter, trying to hold off the Banished from Earth. How fighting resorted to hiding from the Affini, attempting guerilla tactics, but losing each and every time. In just two days, they went from a couple of thousand Marines, ODSTs, and Spartan-IVs, to a few dozen Marines and Spartans. One of the Spartan-IVs that had been captured must have given away the location of the underground headquarters, because on the third day the Affini stormed the base, and nothing could stop them. It was for the best though, because the Compact had also stopped the Banished. For the most part, it seemed like Humanity and the species in the Banished all got along now. Or atleast, they weren't allowed to fight. The Affini made sure of that.

Luckily, Joanne and her team had been found by the Affini when they did, since she had suffered a near fatal wound from a gravity hammer, in a move to save what would have killed Kelly. If it wasn't for the Affini giving emergency medical attention, she would have died. And it only brought her and her Mistress together, since she was a doctor!

The sound of shifting vines behind her brought Joanne out of her deep thoughts.

“Oh, hey miss. I was just looking at these ol things. What are the plans for today?”

A vine came out to pet her, and Joanne leaned into it, mewling happily.

“Well petal, your friend, Thel, wants to meet us at the Class J Cafe near here. We both have some news to share with you~”

Just the mention of Thel Vadam gave Joanne goosebumps and a weird, fluttery feeling in her stomach. They had been friends ever since they fought alongside each other in the battle for the Ark, but that only brought a yearning for something further to Joanne. She… She wanted to be with him. She could barely hide her feelings whenever she spent time with the former Arbiter. Maybe today she'd speak to him…

After a lengthy process of bathing, getting make up applied, picking out a beautiful dress (in the style of Mistress, of course!) and some well earned cuddles, it was time to go. The trip was rather quick, only about five minutes away from their hab, and soon they had arrived at the Class J Cafe. This one in particular was called The Cuddle Den, and it was a pretty cozy spot.

Joanne and her Mistress entered, being greeted by a blissed out floret.

“H-hiiii~ welcome to The Cuddle D-den! my name is Caleb, He/Him pronouns! Y-you two may find anywhere to sit or cuddle, and we have a snack bar if you get hungry or thirsty!”

Mistress thanked him, and She and Joanne found Thel sitting down by a pet bed. As Joanne approached, letting loose a small smile, he clicked his mandibles and bowed his head.

“Joanne, it is good to see you again, my friend. How have you been?”

He held out his hand, and her heart skipped a beat as she stepped forward, placing hers in his and sitting down on the pet bed with him.

“U-uhm, I've been pretty good. Just missed you… How has life as an independent been for you?”

Thel gently offered for Joanne to cuddle up, an offer she couldn't deny. She got up close, snuggling into him and sighing deeply. Stars, he was so much bigger than she was now. Before, they were near the same size and height, but now, after being on Class Gs and being out of armor, Joanne had to look up at Thel to meet his gaze.

“Well, that's why I wanted to meet today. I… am not an independent anymore. Or atleast, I won't be.”

For a moment, Joanne's heart sank. Would that mean they wouldn't be able to see each other anymore…? Why else would he have wanted to meet today other than a goodbye…?

From behind her, Mistress procured a piece of paper and a pen, handing them over to Thel. What…?

“Me and your Mistress have been speaking, and I want to be her floret alongside you. That is, if you'd be fine with it. And, if it's also okay, Joanne, would you like to be my pinnate?”

Joanne felt a huge wave of emotions. First was confusion. The confusion switched to relief, then to overwhelming happiness. She hugged Thel tight, looking up at him.

“Y-yes, please! I've had these feelings for such a long time, I've.. Been attracted to you for a while. I'd be so happy to have you as my pinnate.”

Thel signed the paper, handing it off to Mistress, and then leaned down, hugging back.

“I know. You weren't very good at concealing those feelings. But, I share them too.”

Joanne blushed slightly, and and tried to look anywhere but at him. She gasped slightly in surprise when his large hands cupped her face however.

“G-gonna seal it with a kiss?” Joanne asked jokingly. Thel answered by leaning forward and ‘kissing’ her. She reciprocated, kissing his mandibles. A surprised gasp left her mouth as something was injected into both her and Thel.

“Just a class J and A, petals. Enjoy yourselves~”

She felt right at home snuggled up to him, gently and slowly kissing, wordlessly proclaiming each other's love.

[xshingie]

Exploring The Narrative Significance of Edouard's Blue eyes

Something that piqued my interest was the fact that Annette was so insistent when she saw NightCreature!Edouard, she was so convinced it was him and she would not consider any opinion otherwise. Initially, one might think it speaks to the implicit depth of their connection that she would recognize… but perhaps, what if it speaks more to Annette might have perceived how well she /thought/ she knew him? What possibly would have occurred for Annette to retain Edouard's eyes in her memory so vividly?

This below quote from All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren serves as the springboard for my inspiration for what eventually became my Annette/Edouard short story, Yours Truly https://archiveofourown.org/works/51906367 (I also sampled the phrasing as well):

"I suppose that that day I first saw Anne and Adam as separate, individual people, whose ways of acting were special, mysterious, and important. And perhaps, too, that day I first saw myself as a person. But that is not what I am talking about. What happened was this: I got an image in my head that never got out. We see a great many things, but that is different. We get very few of the true images in our heads of the kind I am talking about, the kind which become more and more vivid for us as if the passage of the years did not obscure their reality but, year by year, drew off another veil to expose a meaning which we had only dimly surmised at first. Very probably the last veil will not be removed, for there are not enough years, but the brightness of the image increases and our conviction increase that the brightness is meaning, or the legend of meaning, and without the image our lives would be nothing except an old piece of film rolled on a spool and thrown into a desk drawer among the unanswered letters."

I took inspiration from the concept described above: In Yours Truly, Edouard had tried to tell her something she didn't have a concept of understanding at the time. And yet, it's with narrative irony that when Annette looks into his eyes, despite color being so clear, but she couldn't really get a good "read" into him. The most we know about Edouard is through Annette's lens, and she describes him in a very romanticized, idealized manner -- which hints to me that she views him in a special way, but doesn't understand him -- not really.

This is veering into headcanon territory by this point, but a distinct vibe I picked up from Edouard is that while he is friendly and appears to be warm, kind and collegial, he seems to almost keep people an arm's length distance, revealing almost nothing (vulnerable) about himself in his interactions with others. If you look at these screencaps, his eyes are so bright, but his smile is very subdued and tight-lipped -- even his eyes don't really convey any turbulent emotions. I think Edouard might have been kept a lot to himself, which partially contributes to Annette not really understanding him on a deeper level. Hence the feeling of staring at something, which is calm, serene… but tells you nothing about the person themselves. Although it may sound romantic when I describe the feeling of looking into Edouard's eyes "as reflecting her soul like a still gemstone", what I had actually intended to convey that relationship between Annette and Edouard, while undoubtedly close and Annette grew to understand herself on a deeper because of him, this very quality actually was capped the limitation of Annette/Edouard's connection.

Edouard seems to give off a vibe that he keeps people at a certain arm's length, all the while being able to charm people (""I make them [the nobles] happy, and they lower their guard and loosen their tongues.") while keeping is own guard up, I took a lot of care to weave in in a lot of subtleties that showed both a mismatch in understanding and Edouard keeping an arm's distance. Edouard sidesteps her question and doesn't tell her who exactly who he's writing to. He brings up that everyone has their own reason for fighting, but he doesn't reveal his own. He tries to get Annette to get interested in writing, explaining letters on an abstract romantic level; he shares a personal story about his grandmother, but all Annette's response is that she doesn't understand.

What was Edouard keeping to himself, that he never shared with Annette? Perhaps he was reconciling with the inner conflicts of his mixed heritage. Perhaps he was dealing with his own demons or vices that would have condemned him to Hell to enable him to become a Night Creature in the first place.

This "image" that Annette had of Edouard's eyes in her mind, represents the image that continued to stay with her, as she gradually begins to understand what Edouard was trying to convey to her on a deeper level.

(and why yes, to write this I did spend an inordinate amount of time starting of screencaps of Edouard to try to incisively capture the vibe of what it feels like when Edouard looks at you with those gorgeous AF eyes of his lol)

A huge thank you to ladyeama/@pansexual-chocolate for being an amazing headcanon partner in all of this!

[fatuismooches]

what if dottore had to create a new segment for a very specific experimental project (dunno what it is but for the sake of this ask just hear me out xddd) and its the female version of prime ! fragile reader has always been nosey as to what dottore's new project is ab and would even snoop around eventhough prime or the segments would eventually rant ab it sooner or later . so when reader found out that theres been a newcomer at the lab their curiousity peaked yet the lab is very restricted whenever its being operated and can only hear their voice which is somewhat familiar w their figure of speech so reader is left quite frustrated . ladyttore has all the memories of prime so whenever reader's presence can be sensed outside of the lab she just smiles to herself and felt giddy at reader's antics for being curious yet clueless ab her . after the project has been completed she just ... kind of almost nothing to do since prime and all of the segments had already been assigned onto a new project w all the roles taken and shes left to standby if there happens to be any emergency . she met reader for the first time when she strolls along the halls to study the area then suddenly reader appeared in different direction as they were ab to go to their room . reader immediately froze as their mind went , " WHO IS THIS PRETTY LADY AND WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE DOTTORE ?!?!?!? " . ladyttore just simply chuckles at this then holds one of their hand on hers to bring it to her lips and said , " its a pleasure to finally meet you " and u just burst into million shades . i have a feeling ladyttore is more suave than most segments so when prime and the other segments were left busy both of u went along quite well and when they got back they lowkey feels jealous LOL . zandi is prob quite fond of ladyttore since shes very attentive and he likes adults that are somewhat similar to reader .

had this idea bc i want dottore yuri 🥺🩷

YESSS WBDWQKDWQD FEMTTORE WOULD BE... SO SUAVE AND CHARMING AND TALL AND PRETTY,, Dottore, as someone who is constantly seeking new perspectives, well it wouldn't be too surprising for him to make a female segment!! (We know he's done much crazier things anyway.) Although you've been told many many times to stop wandering around certain off-limits areas of the lab... you can't help it. You're still a scholar, after all! (Interpret "scholar" that how one would like.) Though many times, you end up being caught before you can get any of the juicy details... which happens yet again, and all you can hear is a familiar yet unfamiliar voice at the same time...

Although Femttore thinks you are the cutest little thing that she would love to gobble up, she doesn't force the meeting, rather, she wants it to happen naturally. Oh, of course she'd love to wrap her hands around your shoulders and purr into your ear, have you lay on her lap as you glance nervously at her but, she's not impatient. Yes, seeing all the other segments hog your attention is rather annoying but her chance will come. And it is worth every second of waiting.

You have to do a double take when you see such a lovely, well-dressed lady with... a familiar mask and... long, blue hair?? You nearly trip over your feet as you try to understand when she just strolls up and kisses your hand so romantically,, And her voice? It's like Dottore's but it has a distinct tone to it, like not other. It makes your cheeks warm, definitely.

Omega and Femttore are definitely the ones silently fighting with each other through sharp smiles and passive-aggressive statements. They are the two latest versions of Prime after all... They are both selfish in many matters, that applies to you as well of course. The other segments don't like her because she always manages to steal you away... why are you so enamored with her, it's not fair! The younger ones especially, they mumble and grumble all the time when they see her touch you so casually as you fawn over her,,

She always makes sure you have all the products you need (hygiene, skincare, lotion, etc) because she knows her creator knows only the basics of the basics,, </3 of course she also has very pointy teeth and likes to mark you but the other segments get mad of course,, it's always a competition

[paperclipninja]

Still We Know Each Other So Well - Chapter 2

Rating: Explicit (though not for a few more chapters)

A few months ago, there was a comment on Tumblr that there are ponderings about what would happen if Aziraphale or Crowley's memory was wiped, but what if both their memories were wiped?

This is a story of that what if.

Chapter Summary: A little over a week had passed, yet barely an hour went by when Aziraphale wasn’t thinking of Crowley. AKA: let's start to warm up that pining tag.

Excerpt:

A little over a week had passed, yet barely an hour went by when Aziraphale wasn’t thinking of Crowley.  Every time he stepped out of his building, he searched the street for a flash of red or a distinctive swagger. He found a reason to stop by the small supermarket each afternoon in the hope it might be part of Crowley’s regular route, but there was no sign of the man. 

It was pathetic really, Aziraphale thought to himself. Behaving like a teenager with a crush and going out of his way to try and run into this virtual stranger— to what? Catch one more glimpse? Have a polite exchange before going their separate ways, the whole pitiful cycle starting again? He knew it was a sad and futile game but the truth was, Aziraphale was often lonely and something about this felt… different.  

Lying in bed each night—somewhere between exhaling into the comfort of crisp sheets and plush pillows and the muting of his surrounds just before dreams began—Aziraphale found himself filled with a yearning so great that he was certain it might crush every breath of air right out of him. It gripped his heart and made it ache for a man he had spent less than an hour with and knew nothing about.

Continue reading

Never-ending thanks to my glorious beta @harlotofupdog and the lovely, supportive @goodomensafterdark goblins

[tgmsunmontue]

Together or not at all - Hangster sequel

I wrote a ~2.5k Javy/Nat 5+1 and this is the 2k Hangster sequel (with a potential epilogue to come, who knows?)

This is based on the fact that ~14 months ago my BF of over 20+ years started dating my husband's BF of over 20+ years. Because my husband dared his BF to ask my BF out. Yep. We are all in our mid-40s and that's a thing that happened. They moved in together two weeks ago.

                “I dare you to ask him out…”

                “Ask who out?” Jake asks, leaning back against the brick work of the house while he watches Javy’s kids run around in the backyard and tries to not miss Laney and Pepper too much.

                “Bradley.”

                “What? Uh… why do you think that would be a good idea?”

                “Well, you actually have a fuck load of stuff in common for a start.”

                “Okay. I…” He pauses then and considers it, because Javy’s not wrong. Except for the fact that he may have taken one too many knocks to the head. “Okay. Imagine this. I ask him out. We go out and hit it off. Start a relationship and then two or three years it crashes and burns like all my past relationships and then you and Nat feel awkward as fuck and feel like you can never invite both of us to the same thing ever again…”

                His divorce was five years ago, he’s had two short-lived relationships since then, and he’s just sort of figured that maybe the problem is him. Or his career. His career is such a big part of him though that it’s something he can’t divorce himself from, which is a line Catherine had thrown at him and it had cut deep even if he’d later reflected on it and realized the truth of it.

                “No. No. I don’t accept that. That’s bullshit Jake. For a start if you think Nat wouldn’t force you both to get over yourselves if you broke up – ”

                “If? We haven’t even gone on a fucking date yet.”

                “If you seriously don’t think you could have something with him, then I won’t press. But you guys have a lot of shit in common okay? You’re our best friends for a start, and okay, yeah, that could get a little messy if things don’t work out. But that would only be for a while. Only until Nat beat some sense into both of you…”

                “And what about the fact I have kids?”

                “Bradshaw loves kids. Pretty sure he’s not going to hold that against you. In fact it might even count in your favor.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Uh… well… he doesn’t really know you like we do. You guys haven’t exactly crossed paths a lot the last few years, with him being stationed so far away. And it’s not like we talk about you to him, other than mention you in passing. So he might have more, um, distinct memories of you from Top Gun that first time. And some of those other times.”

                “Great, so when I was young and dumb and we pretty much had a pissing contest every time we talked to each other? You seriously think this is a good idea?”

                “You’re both Navy. You’re both very family orientated. You like being outdoors. You’re both best friends with either me or Nat, and after fifteen years I have to say I consider him a good friend and I seriously think you two could work.”

                “So you don’t really dare me, because that’s juvenile shit… you just think it’s a really good idea.”

                “Jake, buddy, my dearest and oldest friend and godfather of my children… I’m still daring you because you’re juvenile as fuck and I want you to do this. In fact, I’m not just daring you, I’m double-dog-daring you.”

                “Ugh, you suck…” Jake mutters, knocking his head back on the bricks like it will somehow relieve the annoyance he’s feeling.

                “Nope. But you might if you follow through on this dare.”

                “You’re disgusting. One day your kids are going to ask what you mean and it will serve you right.”

                Javy just laughs at him and Jake hates that he knows him so well.

                He guesses he’s asking Bradshaw on a date.

…             …             …

                They’ve decided on a local tap house specializing in IPAs and Jake is pretty sure neither of them cares about that, but it’s low pressure and informal enough that they can just pretend this is two friends catching up rather than their best friends insisting they go on a date. He’s still getting flashbacks to some of their previous meetings, and he knows that’s all past, that their most recent interactions have actually been mature and adult, but it still feels a little surreal to be meeting up with him without Javy and Nat also in attendance.

                Bradshaw enters the building and he looks weird. It’s been a couple of years since Jake’s seen him in person, their careers taking them to different parts of the world. He’s not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, is missing his moustache and looks good, light blue button-down with sleeves rolled up, showing of tanned forearms and wearing dark jeans. He’s always been attractive, Jake isn’t blind, but right now he’s allowing himself to look and appreciate. It’s a different experience than what he’s used to when faced with all of Bradley Bradshaw.

                “Hey Jake.”

                “Bradley…” he replies, the name unfamiliar in his mouth. They don’t hug or even shake hands, both letting out little huffs of laughter at the awkwardness and Jake motions to the booth he’d been directed to when he arrived. They sit opposite one another and place drink orders with the hovering waiter.

                “Is this as weird for you as it is for me?”

                “Yeah. I have to say, I didn’t expect you to ask me out. I promised Nat I’d give you a chance so…” Bradshaw says, and he shrugs, but his smile isn’t mocking, just a little.. shy maybe?

                “Well, don’t do me any favors Bradshaw. I’m only here because Javy double-dog dared me,” he says it with a wink, his lips twitching in amusement and hopes Bradshaw takes it with the levity in which he means it. He does, laughing and Jake has to admit he looks good.

                “Only you would feel the need to do something because you got dared into doing it.”

                “You saying Natasha daring you to do something wouldn’t make you do it?”

                “More like the opposite really. She tells me not to do something and I immediately go and do it.”

                “God, you must drive her insane.”

                “I’ve mellowed as I’ve gotten older.” Jake laughs again, because he’s not sure if it’s mellowing or simply maturing, but he knows what Bradshaw means. “Anyway, we might as well catch-up, not like we don’t have plenty of things we can talk about.”

                They talk. They talk and talk and he finds himself enjoying it more than he thought he would. Bradshaw is funny and entertaining, intelligent and not afraid to poke fun of his younger self, admitting that he’s come a long way. He asks about Jake’s daughters, listens to endless stories about them with a smile on his face and asks to see photos. Naturally they talk about Javy and Natasha, their joint godchildren, the sickeningly sweet way they can be together sometimes, but how happy they both are for their closest friend.

                Food arrives, is eaten and shared easily when Jake apparently eyes the ribs a little too hard. He makes a passing comment about ribs in Texas and having to get Bradley to try them next time they visit and while a part of his brain spirals away in mortification, he manages to keep his expression neutral, and Bradley doesn’t seem to even do a double take at the vague mention of a future. He is very firmly Bradley now though, not Bradshaw, and he wonders how he might think of Jake. Whether it’s callsign, last-name or first. He definitely seems to use Jake with no hesitation and another little part of his brain wonders how else his name might sound at other times… He startles a little at that train of thought, not really having thought about taking Bradley to bed. It’s not an unappealing thought, but it does feel…

                “Does this feel a little weird to you?”

                “Yep. Little surreal. Not bad… but,” he shrugs then, but Jake knows exactly what he means.

                They both pass on dessert but order coffee, neither of them wanting to stop talking and he feels a little warm when Bradley stretches his legs out, brushes against his own legs and then just rests there while they keep talking. It’s been over four hours and that’s… god, he doesn’t think he’s spent this much time just talking with anyone like this other than Javy or his parents in years. It feels good.

                They finish up and settle the bill, walking out; Bradley holds the door open for him and Jake hasn’t been on a date with someone who holds doors open in a while. The last person he dated seriously was his ex-wife and while he’s had a couple of very short-lived relationships since then, none of them had felt this easy. They walk aimlessly, or what he thought was aimlessly until they’re stopping beside a car and it beeps as Bradley unlocks it before turning and looking at Jake, lips quirked in amusement.

                “God, let’s get this over and done with, come here…”

                Jake’s laughing as Bradley’s hand lands on his waist and tugs him close, they’re both smiling as they begin to kiss, Bradley a couple of inches taller than him giving him an ever so slight height advantage and downward angle and Jake presses into it, lets his own hands settle on Bradley’s hips. They’re not smiling anymore, the spark between them like a pleasurable electric shock and Jake groans into it, not having expected to feel anything more than warm pressure. Bradley’s hands become firmer, his body pressing against Jake’s and it feels feverish, an edge of desperation that doesn’t have an explanation. Their lips are slick, urging each other to press a little firmer and his stomach swoops with anticipation, his cock starting to harden. He’s pretty sure this is meant to be a goodnight kiss, not fucking foreplay and he pulls back ever so slightly, reluctant to step away from the press of Bradley’s body against his. But they should probably talk.

                “Fucking hell…” Bradley says, and he doesn’t move away either, the words murmured into the side of Jake’s neck and his body feels tingly with awareness.

                “Yeah. Wasn’t quite, uh, expecting that.”

                “Uh no, neither was I. Fuck.”

                “What’s wrong?” Jake asks, because while he might be feeling a little surprised, he’s not upset at all.

                “Are we that blind? Were our best friends able to see… that?”

                Jake snorts.

                “Well, I think until recently one or both of us have been in relationships so no, I don’t think they’ve been waiting for us to figure our shit out for years or anything. But maybe they thought we might… get along?”

                Bradley huffs a laugh and pulls back enough to give him an amused look and oh, it reminds him of all the times before when he’s given Jake a similar look. He’d thought back then that Bradley had been laughing at him, but he thinks he’s had it wrong, it’s been Bradley inviting him to share in a private joke, to laugh along with him. Okay. Maybe Javy has seen something all along.

                “So… we doing this then?” Jake asks, because he needs to know. Wants to know.

                “I’m… yeah. I’m in.”

                “Okay. Good. Me too,” Jake says, and he kisses him again, wants to know if their first kiss was a fluke of some sort but is very happy to be proven wrong. His entire body thrums with arousal and god, it’s been a while, but not long enough to warrant this type of reaction. He wants to take Bradley to bed.

                “So,” Bradley says, his lips and teeth leaving little ticklish nibbles along Jake’s jaw. “I guess one of the benefits of doing this now is we both have a better idea of what we’re looking for. Already sorted through our twenties and thirties…”

                “Yeah. Know what you’re looking for in a partner, also what you’re not looking for… Oh fuck… Bradley,” Jake mutters as Bradley grinds against him and he can’t believe they’re making out against Bradley’s car like a couple of teenagers.

                “Yeah Jake… Didn’t think I’d find it right in front of me, but I’m not disappointed.”

                “Oh god, Javy’s never going to let me live this down. He’s going to be fucking insufferable.”

                “Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth it.”

                “Fuck, yes please.”

EPILOGUE

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hey we've been thinking about that "OSDD was a temporary diagnosis" post for a while and. it makes complete sense what you guys said but like. we can't get ANYONE to diagnose us as anything CDD, let alone anything that isn't going to give us the treatment equivalent of slapping a bandaid on a stab wound. Is there like, anywhere we could look further into P-DID/DID research on the subject? We're not comfortable moving off of the self diagnosis of OSDD-1b yet so we wanna be triple sure to get as much information as possible.

Thankies 💕💕💕

- 🐑 & 🌸 of the Constellation Collective

There's places all over to find that info, but I want to encourage you not to overthink it. You can dig deeper, you absolutely should, but the label... it doesn't matter. It's really, truly okay to get this one wrong and switch around between the labels or use them interchangeably. I promise. You don't need to be right, because you're right regardless (unless it's a misdiagnosis, but I'm going to talk about that at the end of this, because it's important).

I am diagnosed OSDD, but I call myself DID. It's easy, I understand that there's not that big of a difference, no one is going to yell at us (me or you) if it turns out that we have the other one. We're not misrepresenting ourselves. If it turns out I would only ever be diagnosed with OSDD, that doesn't mean I was wrong using the DID label, or that I was even mislabelling myself.

Whether you're diagnosed with DID or OSDD largely depends on where you live. I made a post about this a while back but I can't find it. The US is more likely to diagnose OSDD with minor amnesia than the UK. They're more likely to call minor amnesia DID (as they should). It's literally a dice throw, and not that important.

To quote my BFF, Colin Ross,

The dividing line between DID and most cases of dissociative disorder not otherwise specified is arbitrary [or OSDD]. Most cases of DDNOS are partial forms of DID which lack either clear switching of executive control, full amnesia barriers between identity states, or clear differentiation and structure of identity states. They are partial forms of DID with the same patterns of childhood trauma and co-morbidity.

Also this quote.

So on the one hand we have a vast swathe of people who are, or would be, diagnosed with OSDD as opposed to dissociative identity disorder but who show almost all of the symptoms of DID. Many people therefore see DID and OSDD as appearing on a spectrum, and prefer to conflate the two conditions so that DID/OSDD represents a range of dissociative experiences with more or less amnesia and greater or less elaboration and distinctive identity states or parts of the personality.

It is also what happens in practice: very few people would realistically distinguish between DID and OSDD.

And,

Both OSDD and DID are the result of the spontaneous action of the brain in response to trauma. Both contain different self-states, holding shards of memory and ‘unformulated experience’ (Stern, 1997). Both can be helped by similar approaches to therapy which encourage neuronal repair and result in brain growth such as increased hippocampal volume. Above all, all forms of dissociation need to be validated for their unique contribution to survival.

P-DID is a bit of a new one. Here's the ICD link to it, if you want to read more, but it's going to be the same as above. It's really not that important. Its main difference is that the system doesn't really switch, it's mostly intrusion (like feelings bleeding between alters and host).

These are really only useful for describing how your system generally functions.

Finally, misdiagnosis.

It's okay to be wrong completely. Maybe it's just BPD or OCD, autism, any of the number of disorders that come with identity confusion.

When someone self DX something like BPD and they finally get to therapy and find out it's literally ANYTHING else, we celebrate with them. Good job, you found answers! You're on the right path! You can get the right kind of help now. You did what you had to do in order to get by, and you did your best to try to understand yourself with the tools you had. The use of the first label wasn't malicious, you didn't hurt anyone by using it, and you probably got yourself pretty knowledgeable on the topic.

You are now a resource for those who are also trying to figure themselves out.

Who knows better what the difference between BPD and OSDD is than someone who tried out both and found the answer?

Being wrong doesn't mean you're bad, I don't know why we don't celebrate a misdiagnosis of DID like we do some others. We're all just trying to understand ourselves, and sometimes we're wrong. The point is that eventually we figure it out, and the journey there... recognizing a misdiagnosis is a GOOD part of your story, and it's an important story to share. You were still struggling, regardless of what label you used and what you're being diagnosed with.

Use the label that feels right to you. If you want to keep using OSDD, that's fine. You're describing how your system works right now, and that's perfect. Using DID or OSDD, you'll end up in the same place regardless-- hopefully this means with a good therapist who's going to take your symptoms seriously, but you're going to end up in that same chair no matter what label you're using.

I really hope this helped.

Also, I didn't really touch on it, but I'm sorry you're struggling to get a diagnosis. That must be incredibly frustrating. Don't give up. Unfortunately, the average is about 5 years for most. Keep advocating for yourself.

[elf-osamu]

“YOUR LAST MEMORY OF ME”

[ masterlist ] [ reblogs are very appreciated ]

angst, hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, romantic relationship, jing yuan x gn!reader

warning(s) : major character death, the concept of death is discussed, implied reference for the high cloud quintet lore !!!!, blood, injuries, depictions of violence !!!!

word count : 2517 words

“i think i got too many memories getting in the way of me; you only get what you grieve; the only thing that’s ever stopping me is me; i testify if i die in my sleep, then know that my life was a killer dream; and all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died” — song: stay frosty royal milk tea by fall out boy

a/n: i’ve almost cried while writing this. as a jing yuan lover, i’m terribly sorry (it will happen again).

to be part of a long life species isn’t as easy as mortals make it to be. since their lives are nothing but a fleeting moment which will be soon forgotten, they tend to hope for a longer time to accomplish their goals, rushing every task to meet the temporary relief that it brings — a sweet feeling which one could indulge themself in, but only for a brief moment. as a consequence of this, they’re quite envious of those who don’t have to worry about such matters: those people can enjoy life to the fullest and simultaneously take things at a slow pace, savoring each second of their existence without being overwhelmed by their imminent end; new experiences are always near the corner of their days, quietly waiting for the perfect time to appear and give opportunities of every kind; the weight of death isn’t a matter to reflect upon, since it’s something far too distant to be frightened by it.

a smile was something that jing yuan hardly got to see on that face he had profoundly grown fond of — yours. one could have defined it as an almost imperceptible change, but the way your lips slightly curved in response of his affirmations hadn’t ever escaped his attentive eyes. his life had been consistent for many years, still as a lake in a flawlessly sunny day, with his usual duties and habits which never seemed to change despite the passage of time. however now he had gotten used to your presence and he could have never substituted it. those lips he loved to touch with his, those hands he relished with his when he was looking for reassurance, those eyes he would have treasured with his life if they had been gems — you. jing yuan would have never gotten tired of you.

this is what short life species harshly tell themselves and others — they can’t but concentrate on what they don’t possess, on what their hands will never reach, on what they will never be able to accomplish. nevertheless, said behavior is rather commonly found in the majority of human beings with no distinctions made; envy is a comprehensibile emotion, but when used inappropriately it can develop in resentment. the inherent desire of attaining what we’ve wished for isn’t possible at all times — but we continue on our path forward, often stumbling along the way when it gets too difficult to move on.

the general’s soul wasn’t unblemished as many thought: you had gotten the chance to meet that part of him he tried to hide under a seemingly exemplery mask of polite yet playful remarks. you had tended to his injuries, taking care of his body while he narrated the story of some of his scars; you had listened to his usually unspoken worries, when the role he had to play for the majority of his life momentarily ended and he finally showed you that he was just a human being like any other — someone who had done both outstanding and terrible things. “i… i apologize for not being the hero you’ve heard of”, he had muttered the rare times he had allowed himself to cry; it had been too long ago since the last time he had opened up to someone in such a vulnerable way.

long life species know this too well: between the scars of their past and the hopes for their future, it isn’t rare to find people who are lost in their journey, surrounded by painful memories and feelings of desperation. to forget what one’s forced to remember can make themself cling to the old days and refuse to give a glance to the other side.

you were aware of jing yuan’s foibles and past mistakes — how could you have not? — but those things had never stopped you from loving him. as you were there to accept him for who he was, you could proudly say he did the same for you; patience and consideration were only a few of his characteristics, but they were greatly helpful when you were going through difficult times. jing yuan wouldn’t have ever judged your fears and thoughts: he would have sat next to you, grounding your mind from the stress that life could give you, and reminded you of his unfeigned adoration towards your being. you both had found comfort and solace with each other.

the general of the cloud knights of the xianzhou luofu, jing yuan, had lived for too many centuries to be truly able to count them. he was acclaimed by many people and frowned upon by others — but nobody could have never doubt his dexterity and strength when it came to swordsmanship: his exceptional abilities had been of considerable effectiveness in battles and, simultaneously, his carefulness and diplomacy couldn’t be disregarded in the slightest, since they kept the law and order in his nation.

death passively follows its natural course when the right time is known — it’s a neutral state which can’t be converted by the human mind, something… irreversible; many have tried to change this fact and many have failed. each stage of life is meaningful, thus to accept what’s going to happen someday is the wisest and least painful choice, though it has to be recognized how it can still be a tough journey. his loved companions, his long-lasting enemies, everybody he knew… he had lost them, either because of demise or a change of paths.

during his life, jing yuan had collided with friends, foes and even with himself — bonds were broken, rancour was deepened, distress was reinforced: all the experiences and emotions he had been carrying in his heart for centuries seemed to be never-ending. he did his best to hide his damaged self through loads of work and too many hours of sleep; after all he was one of the arbiter-generals — if he couldn’t do his job, who could have?

he was a symbol of hope: he was someone to use as a role model and as a pillar for anyone who was in need of support and protection — failure had never been an option for those of such great importance.

he just had to resist a little longer… then everything else would have ended and peace would have prospered, as it always did.

clashes of swords and polearms reverberated through the battlefield, they were the only sounds which could be heard alongside the warriors’ screams. destruction and ruination harshly painted the surroundings, scarring the ground where nature once flourished, while combatants fell and took their last breath.

an invasion of that magnitude hadn’t been on the xianzhou luofu for quite some time and nobody had been prepared for it; unexpected encounters were the most dangerous and tiring ones.

you were a brave and capable soldier — your technique wasn’t flawless, but your determination made up for the few careless mistakes you committed while fighting; jing yuan was aware of that, but his chest still hurt whenever he knew you were battling against his enemies. as much as he believed you could successfully take care of your well-being in dire situations, he had to fight the urge to be near you when you risked your life; said feeling was reciprocated though, since the general had caught a glimpse of your figure finishing off an enemy who had tried to attack him behind his back while he was busy with three other opponents. you had flashed a smile at your lover before going into battle again.

it was a tough confront between distinct factions, but hope had come to the surface again once you had taken a glance at how many enemies were still standing: only a few were alive and their counterattacks were growing more haphazard by the second — they hadn’t expected to fall behind in battle. the rush of adrenaline you felt before accompanied your weapon through taking the life of your opponents without backing away.

jing yuan had just fought against a few people when he saw a group of his opposite faction go near you; they were too many to be dealt at the same time, too many even for someone as experienced as him — so he couldn’t let them lift a finger on your body, it was a risk too huge to be taken so carelessly.

he rapidly moved to get to your side — you were rather distant from him but, if he had screamed, you would have been distracted and you would have gotten severe injuries… or even worse. his mind was spiralling while the general was trying to calm himself down and choose the best option available to keep yourself safe but, when he saw a spear coming too near your figure, his body moved on its own: he rushed towards you and, without giving you the time to react, he took what once was your place.

time seemed to stop for a moment as he tasted the flavour of pain that came from the deep skin tear on his chest: gushes of blood brutally tinted his armor and all of a sudden his face lost the color it had just a moment before.

you couldn’t feel anything at first, your brain had registered only a part of what had occurred. then, however, you realized what you had witnessed when you watched jing yuan’s body fall on the ground.

everything had happened in a few seconds, but it felt like an unceasing event: something atrocious was taking place, something you just wished to ignore and forget… but you couldn’t allow yourself to do that.

therefore, a wave of rage hit you: you didn’t waste time to slaughter the ones who attacked the man you loved; when anyone tried to come near you, your blade was swift enough to promptly eliminate them and destroy anything that crossed its path, wounding whoever couldn’t understand the weight of the situation. it had been a while since you felt an emotion in such an intense and uncontrolled way, you looked feverish from how much strength you were using.

anger’s origin was different for everyone — yours was because of despondency.

you were moving too fast to process what was happening: the only clear thing your blurry vision could notice was the carmine blood that colored the soil and people’s armors, especially your own. you couldn’t feel the pain derived from your injuries, your clouded mind wasn’t able to process your physical state.

wrath was embracing you in its strong grip, the one thing that heartened you when you would have preferred to hide away in your own solitude.

as the only opponents left decided to retreat from the battle, you tossed your weapon to the side and fell on your knees; you were exhausted from your sudden outburst, your limbs were becoming numb and your head was spinning.

the familiar sound of your name, however, kept you grounded, making you look at the white-haired man who was laying down on the turf.

sweat and blood littered his scarred skin, a look you had gotten to know through the years you had spent with him. but this time was like no other.

you immediately sat by his side and forced yourself to act like you had everything under control, while trying to disregard the spear that had pierced his body: your hands slightly pressed near the major wound on his chest, clinging to the last hope of keeping more blood from coming out.

“my time… has come, then?” he murmured, his lips were moving slowly, too slowly, though his voice was calm as the usual; you would have said he wasn’t feeling much pain, if you didn’t know him that well.

a grin was plastered on his face and it only made you sadder to see him keep his mask even on that unpleasant occasion.

“don’t you dare say that, jing yuan. there’s still time, we can make someone look for a doctor, we… you can resist for a few minutes until then!”, you sounded — you were — desperate. “everything is going to work out in the end, isn’t it?”.

you were trying your best to pay no attention to your thoughts: there was no doubt that his injury was fatal, he already had lost too much blood to return back to his usual life and be saved. you would have switched places in a heartbeat if you were given the opportunity to do so, you would have given anything to keep him alive; jing yuan had understood it since the first day your love for him had been known.

his eyes were fixated on your face, as if they were trying to soothe your distressed mind. with the last remaining ounce of strength, he rested one of his hands on yours and deepened his smile.

he called out your name again. “do you know how much i care about you?”.

if the situation were different, you would have punched him; tears began to fall down on your cheeks; you would have liked to scream and say he wouldn’t have died in that way, but you managed to make your lips curve into a faux grin; if you had to smile, you would have done it for him.

“yes, love. i do know it all too well”, you whispered, your gaze was focused only on his face and the flutter of his eyelashes.

jing yuan slowly nodded and mumbled “good”: his heart could have ultimately rested now that he had your confirmation.

he looked at the gray sky, silently saying his goodbyes to the world around him. “if there’s anything beyond this life… i hope i’ll get the chance to… to meet my friends… and lost companions there…”. you felt his fingers caress yours in a reassuring manner, a habit of his the general of the luofu couldn’t abandon even in death. “perhaps we are going… to talk again”.

you inclined your head, there was nothing else you could do.

his deep voice, the white cascade of his long hair, those golden eyes that held many memories, the strategies he followed while playing chess, his comforting laugh, every characteristic of his — you would have never forgotten any of them.

“i feel… so light…” he muttered as he closed his eyes, inhaling air for the last time.

an uncontrollable sob broke out from your throat as you bended over and hugged his cold body close to your chest, your forehead was against his.

pain had been a part of jing yuan’s life since he was a child and it ushered him also to his demise, as a loyal intimate who had never left his side.

you held back your tears when a question made its way into your head: would he have found solace now that everything was over? you shivered and hoped he could finally rest, but your heart wouldn’t have been the same ever again.

the peace you had found within his presence had mercilessly been broken and nothing could have ever repaired it.

[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

[ tag list — @bladesmuse ]

[valarioncy]

Hey there. My name is Khaz, and I'm actually currently the primary host of the system that runs the ValarionCy blog. Funny thing is, I've never actually watched the Hollow myself (which is why y'all don't hear from me much over here), and seeing as we needed to relax and do something fun for a bit I decided hey, might as well give the show a watch for myself.

(Episode 1 commentary under the cut)

In the first episode, I like how it hits you right in the face with the weird shit you're about to experience. Sets the tone for the first episode immediately. Typewriter. Passed-out teenagers. The disorientation of the room Adam wakes up in.

(Sigh. Derek wants me to point out that it's a lot like the opening of the first Saw movie. The sad thing is, he's right.)

It really stands out to me as well in this first episode, the almost clashing moods of pretty intense horror elements, alongside this very corny energy that reminds me I'm watching a show made for children.

For me at least, it provides for this sense of "things are scary but it's fine, everything is gonna be OK." And you know what, I appreciate that. That's a fantastic recipe for a comfort show right there.

-

Adam and Kai are both very stubborn and bullheaded, I can't imagine how frustrated (and probably anxious) Mira was during the poison scene. Good heavens. No wonder she's so pissed in the vent. I'd have been pissed too.

That said, it makes for a believable character dynamic, which also offsets the "children's show" tone with some surprisingly believable and well-written characters.

-

I really like how the forest backgrounds are drawn. Detailed yet simple.

The woods is really where we start to see Adam and Mira naturally starting to bond... largely over Kai being a bit too dramatic for their collective taste. Their dynamic is playful, almost flirty. Very much a "they're hitting things off splendidly" sort of opening to their friendship. Perhaps hinting to their existing friendship.

That, along with Adam and Mira getting so into discussing what could possibly be going on, while some physical comedy gags happen with Kai in the meantime, along with the cinematic distance between Adam and Mira's pair, and Kai alone, further sets up this distinct "Kai feels like he does not belong" energy.

(Yes, I personally have not seen this since forming in the system, but the brain knows the events of the show like the back of our hand. I am privvy to what happens later.)

-

Loving the foreshadowing to Kai's fire powers with the electric fence. It's not obvious enough to make you think too much of it, but it's just intriguing enough to make you wonder what's going on.

Kai telling Mira "you're weird" with her subsequent reaction. So much of a little brother, older sister dynamic with these two already.

-

Adam's immediate gut reaction to the prospect of people nearby being possibly "bad people" tells me... something about his character, though I'm not sure what. He's been shown thus far to be a rather cautious kid, but it seems his caution extends to people as well. He isn't just cautious, he's also distrustful.

(And not just of strangers, if memory serves me.)

-

During the lab scene, Kai shows that he's a bit more of a skeptic than one might initially think. He's not one to just believe everything he's been told. He is certainly not afraid to tell people when he thinks they're wrong.

Yeah, I see why he and Adam butt heads early on. Do you reckon it's a similar situation with Reeve? I sure do.

-

So, it seems nobody else in headspace noticed how Adam flinches or starts slightly when Mira touches his shoulder. He looks a bit uncomfortable about it. (Hm. I think I'm cooking.)

-

Oof. Adam is very easily set off once Kai challenges his authority, despite Adam's statement of "I never said I was the leader". And Adam absolutely matches Kai's explosive energy once it's made known. Adam is clearly already irritated and tense due to the blank map. But the moment the door slams, Adam shouts.

I think this could say a lot about BOTH characters if I had time to explore, but my commentary is already taking way longer than expected.

And again, Mira is stuck having to deal with this. She may have invited the dogs, but she had every right to throw the record player, so sue me.

-

I don't really have anything to say about the dogs. They're spooky, their existence holds implications and plenty of fuel for AU building.

Weird Guy has immediate... vibes. I don't know which vibes he has, but whatever they are they're impeccable. Surprised this guy isn't a Tumblr sexyman or whathaveyou. He's having so much fun too, you can just tell. Mark is no doubt having a field day voicing this guy.

I love how the light is animated on his glasses during the head rotation. Very nice.

-

So the portals drain energy. I'd have liked to see more of this element and what scenarios it could lead to. Eh, that's what AU and fanfiction is for I suppose.

Welp! That's gonna be it for my little commentary on this episode. I'll see about doing more if I can. I know Cy has trouble expressing their exact thoughts on the show so I figured I could give them ideas by sharing my own perspective. Fresh set of eyes. Thanks for reading this if ya did.

-Khaz