#so it’s just really special to find that character and that story and it’s really stuck with me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kallie-den · 3 days ago

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Cerulean

A recent escapee attends a support group for victims of evil mind control… run by the strange, sinister and inimitable Dr. Amaranth Cerulean

Special thanks to @dollzcomix for this commission, and for allowing me to write about Dr. Cerulean! They are a character of Demoiselle Porcelaine's creation, and I highly encourage you to check out her socials for all of her wonderful artwork of Dr. Cerulean - who truly is inimitable, and whose creator brings across their unique charm better than I ever could

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

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The support group was nice… kind of. In theory. It had sounded nice, anyway, when Mariah had found out about it online. A pop-up ad, of all things, accompanied by a garish animation and a picture of the strange-looking psychiatrist who ran it, and written all in lower-case: ‘villain hypnosis victim support group’. Obviously, Mariah’s first instinct had been to dismiss it as some kind of weird internet con, but then she’d had second thoughts. Was there really a support group for people who’d been through what she had? Could other people actually understand the way she was feeling? If so, wasn’t that worth taking a chance on?

That was how she’d ended up in an untidy, rented office space on the side of the highway after dark.

It both was and wasn’t the kind of atmosphere Mariah had expected. A bunch of chairs set out in a circle. People sitting on them, sharing their stories. Strung up on one wall was a big banner that read ‘Mind Control and What Comes After: A Support Group to Find Yourself Again After Being Brainwashed’ in brightly colored but slightly faded letters. Mariah appreciated the stab at an upbeat atmosphere, but the attendeess simply weren’t up to the task.

They all just seemed so completely and utterly harrowed. Mariah sympathized, of course. She knew the ashamed, traumatized, hollowed-out look on each of their faces all too well. She saw in the mirror every morning. But she’d been hoping to see something a little more encouraging, too. Healing. Solidarity. Catharsis. On TV and in movies, support groups always involved people pouring out their hearts, breaking down, embracing one another. Making breakthroughs and overcoming their issues.

Mariah hadn’t expected the real thing to be quite so dramatic, but she’d been looking for more than a sequence of interminable recountings of horrors and violations. Each one seemed to conjure the awfulness of the past back into the present and leave the recounter shriveled and trembling. It was like the support group was making the attendees lesser, not greater. Mariah wasn’t sure she could see any signs of healing at all, or even of people finding solidarity in their brokenness. It was all just miserable.

The only person who seemed like they were having a good time was the psychiatrist running the thing.

Dr. Amaranth Cerulean, they/she.

They looked just as weird in person as they had on their advert. Dr. Cerulean was deathly pale, with big, tired, dark-circled eyes and unusual, light blue markings beneath them, as well as on her lips. It was a strange and striking look, especially along with their prominent nose and the short but poofy, voluminous hair piled up in rounded masses on their head. The shrink wore a gray cardigan over a ribbed, mustard yellow turtleneck sweater which was tucked into the belted waist of their brown slacks. It was an outfit from a different decade. Mariah just wasn’t quite sure which one.

In a way, it wasn’t surprising that a support group like this would be run by an eccentric. Mariah wasn’t one to judge. Dr. Cerulean’s demeanor, though, was a little unnerving. Throughout most of the session, Dr. Cerulean sat on her chair at the head of the group, in a completely slack, slouched pose that registered nothing but complete disinterest. They barely spoke, and only to indicate who should speak next. Certainly not to provide any advice or support. They had a pen and a pad of paper, from the way their hand moved while they were writing on it, Mariah felt certain they were mostly just idly doodling.

Every now and then, however, something would catch their attention. Occasionally—and only when somebody was sharing a particularly lurid, uncomfortable and traumatic part of their experience of being mind controlled—Dr. Cerulean would throw their entire body forward and sit perched so perilously close to their edge of their chair, Mariah feared they were about to topple from it. They would scratch at their notepad in a frenzy, and those big, tired eyes certainly became laser-focused and eager. Whenever that happened, a truly ghastly smile descended on their face. Not warm, not supportive, just pleased. Smug. Grateful, even, like they were thankful someone had stepped up to deliver them from boredom.

And from the slight twitch in their cheek, Mariah couldn’t help but suspect Dr. Cerulean was struggling to keep themself from laughing.

Dr. Cerulean’s presence made the entire support group feel uncomfortably voyeuristic, somehow. When it came to be Mariah’s turn, she kept it to a bare minimum. She introduced herself and made a few oblique references to what had happened to her, but completely glossed over the details. She figured that was pretty normal for a first-timer—and besides, it was difficult to speak with Dr. Cerulean looking at her like she was a fresh-cooked meal placed on their table.

Mariah decided right then and there—there wasn’t going to be a second time. She just didn’t feel comfortable here. It wasn’t the kind of support group she was looking for.

She stuck it out to the end, though—mostly because leaving halfway through seemed much too awkward. Once they wrapped up, before Mariah could slip out quietly, she found that Dr. Cerulean was suddenly between her and the door, and staring at her with an expectant look on their ghoulish face.

“H-Hi,” Mariah said, mostly because she felt like she had to. “Um… thanks for the session.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit as tired and seedy as they looked. “Thank you for coming. Really. We love a newcomer.”

“Yeah…” Mariah had no idea what to say to that. “Well, I was actually just-“

“Good news!” Dr. Cerulean interrupted suddenly, in a lazy, drawling voice. “You’re actually our one-hundredth member. That means you win a free one-on-one session with yours truly.”

Finger guns.

---

Hell no.

That had been Mariah’s initial response. The easiest ‘nope’ of her life. She’d politely declined, and privately resolved to never set foot in Dr. Cerulean’s support group again.

Then she’d gone home, gone to bed, and had the nightmares again.

It was nothing new. They came for Mariah most nights. But it meant another eight-hour torture session inside her own head, tossing and turning, fighting off both gut-wrenching guilt and poisonous allure. In the cold light of dawn, Mariah had felt worse than ever—and taking up Dr. Cerulean on her offer hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea after all. It had been easy to tell herself that it hadn’t really been that bad after all. Sure, Dr. Cerulean was a bit eccentric, but what had Mariah expected from somebody running a support group for mind control victims? It wasn’t like they’d done anything wrong, exactly.

More importantly, Mariah needed the help. Desperately. She couldn’t keep going on like this. That was why she’d gone to the support group in the first place. She needed to talk to somebody. Didn’t she owe it to herself to push herself? To take every chance? Mariah kept thinking about the kind of stuff she’d read online. Recovery wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always comfortable. You had to push yourself.

Mariah had decided that she wanted to push herself.

Besides, it was just talking. In the end, that was what clinched it for her. All they were going to do was sit in a room and talk. If it was good, great. If it was bad, it would be a waste of time—but at least Mariah could tell herself she had given it a fair shot.

Basically: what was the worst that could happen?

That was how, the very next afternoon, Mariah found herself in Dr. Cerulean’s office, trying to distract herself from her anxiety by carefully inspecting the weird pineapple lamp on Dr. Cerulean’s desk. Dressed exactly as they had been the day before, the psychiatrist regarded Mariah with a bland smile on their blue lips as they invited her to sit down opposite them.

“So, um,” Mariah said, shifting uncomfortably. “How do we get started?”

“First things first,” Dr. Cerulean told her, “I have a few release forms for you to sign. Standard stuff, really. No need to read them too carefully.”

They handed Mariah a small stack of papers. Cautiously, Mariah started scanning the first. It seemed, as promised, entirely standard. Non-disclosure, liability, that kind of thing. After signing it, she moved on to the second, then the third, and quickly stopped bothering to read much of the legal jargon. On the very last form, though, something caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” Mariah said. “This is a release authorizing you to… write online fiction about me?”

Quickly, Dr. Cerulean reached over the deck and snatched away the piece of paper. “Oops,” she replied languidly. “Bit of a mix-up. My mistake. Don’t worry about it. You can sign that one later.”

Later? Mariah frowned. Was that some kind of joke? It had to be. Dr. Cerulean certainly looked like they were finding humor in something—but it was in seriously poor taste.

“There we go.” Dr. Cerulean stretched one of their long arms across to retrieve the other release forms. They sat back in their chair and regarded Mariah carefully. “To begin with, why don’t you just tell me what brought you to the support group?”

Again, Mariah considered refusing. Again, she reminded herself: she needed to give this a shot.

“I… I just feel like I can’t move forward,” Mariah began slowly. She fixed her eyes on the floor, hoping that would be less awkward. “You know? I see all these people going about their daily lives. Pursuing careers. Pursuing other people. Pursuing happiness. And it just seems completely impossible to me. Like I can’t even fathom it—even though I used to be just like them. I can ever remember her—that old version of me. The one who wasn’t… who wasn’t broken. I want to be her again so bad. I just… can’t remember how.”

She looked up. Mariah’s voice was already a little choked up from the emotions she was describing. She was hoping, perhaps, for a kind word or a kind smile.

Instead, Dr. Cerulean wasn’t even looking at her. They had a pencil in their hand, and they were trying to spin it cleanly on the joint between their thumb and their hand. After a particularly vigorous spin, it slipped away from them and clattered against the top of the desk.

“Dr. Cerulean?” Mariah ventured plaintively.

Dr. Cerulean let out a breath that was very close to a sigh, and then their brow twitched in a way that made Mariah think, just for a moment, that they were going to roll their eyes. Then, though, a smile—only a little forced—came to Dr. Cerulean’s blue lips.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “What actually happened to you?”

“Oh. Right.” That made sense to Mariah, even if she wished Dr. Cerulean sounded a little more patient about it. She gathered her courage. Talking about what had befallen her didn’t come easy. “A couple of years ago, I-I was in a relationship. With a guy. Robert. We were engaged, I actually. I thought we were going to spend our entire lives together.”

“Uh-huh.” The look of boredom still hadn’t disappeared from Dr. Cerulean’s face.

“I had recently started a new job,” Mariah recounted, voice trembling. “As a PA—a personal assistant. I spoke to my boss about taking some time off for the wedding. Mrs. Lawrence. She, um, didn’t like that idea. She’d always been kind of… controlling, I guess. A… a bully.” She struggled to say it, even though it was true. “She told me she required my services. Didn’t want me to focus on the needs of anyone besides her.”

“Oh?” Those big, sunken eyes on Dr. Cerulean’s face were starting to perk up a little. “What then?”

“I threatened to quit.” Mariah squeezed her eyes tight shut. “So she mind-controlled me.”

Mariah heard a small, wet sound from a short distance away. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Cerulean’s lips were damp, and they had taken up their notepad.

“Tell me more about that,” the psychiatrist prompted.

“She started taking over every aspect of my life,” Mariah whispered. “The way I looked, talked, dressed, and how-“

“No, no,” Dr. Cerulean interrupted eagerly, waving a hand. “How did she mind control you?”

“Um.” Mariah was taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, is she a psychic?” Dr. Cerulean raised a hand and started counting methods on her fingers. “Psychoactive spores? Big ray gun? Good ‘ol hypnotist? Some kind of succubus?”

“She, um,” Mariah replied slowly. “She had one of those… toys on her desk. You know, with the row of balls hanging on strings?”

“A Newton’s cradle!” For the first time, Dr. Cerulean sounded faintly delighted. “Hold on.”

Dr. Cerulean reached under their desk and started rummaging around in a box that seemed to contain a truly preposterous quantity and variety of strange objects. Mariah watched, confused then horrified, as Dr. Cerulean plucked out one of them and set it upon their desk.

It was a Newton’s cradle.

“Um…” Mariah was transfixed by the object. “That’s… c-can you…”

Dr. Cerulean took one of the metal balls between their thumb and forefinger, lifted it, and let it swing.

The metallic tap as it hit against the next reverberated through Mariah’s entire being.

“D-Dr. Cerulean,” Mariah stammered. She was hot and cold. She could feel herself sweating. She could feel herself sinking. “C-c-could you p-put that away, p-please?”

“What, this?” Dr. Cerulean seemed faintly surprised as they leaned back easily in their chair. “But it’s just a little toy.”

“But…” Mariah was about to say something else, but the tapping of the Newton’s cradle broke about her words before they could form. She was left blubbering the word over stupidly. “B-but…”

“Mariah,” Dr. Cerulean tutted. “It’s important for you to understand that this is just a commonplace object. It’s acquired a certain psychological character in your mind as a trigger, but that’s something that you’re imbuing onto the world. Aren’t you afraid that you’re just reinforcing the scars of your own trauma? We need to push past our fears. If you continue to treat this toy with significance, it will become more and more significant to you.”

Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit the consummate professional as they rattled off the argument in their quick but monotonous voice. The words crested over Mariah like a wave. She had no rebuttal. Dr. Cerulean was the psychiatrist, after all.

And Mariah really, really couldn’t think straight with the Newton’s cradle tap, tap, tapping away on the desk.

“OK,” she said quietly, eventually.

“Very good.” Beyond the Newton’s cradle, Mariah could see a smile forming on Dr. Cerulean’s face. “Desensitization through exposure therapy is a key element of recovery. Go on.”

“Go… on?” Exposure therapy? Mariah still couldn’t look away from the Newton’s cradle. She couldn’t stop shaking. But if it was part of her recovery…

“Tell me what your boss did to you.”

“Mrs. Lawrence,” Mariah said slowly, “made me break up with my boyfriend.”

As they took notes, Dr. Cerulean made a little noise that might have been the beginnings of a laugh. “Of course.”

“B-but it’s more than that.” Mariah wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk about it, really. But she had no choice. It just came out of her—because she was looking at the Newton’s cradle, and Dr. Cerulean was telling her to speak. “She… s-she made…” Her voice broke. “She made me g-gay.”

Abruptly, Dr. Cerulean sat forward. For the first time, Mariah felt the full weight of the psychiatrist’s attention.

“Oh wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, with an ominous delight they slowly brought back under wraps. “That’s… really something. How did that go?”

“It’s awful,” Mariah moaned. “It’s not… I’m s-straight. I’ve always been straight. But when I looked at her—when I look at other women—I can’t help but feel it. And it feels so… so dirty.”

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed, scribbling at their notepad. “Something as fundamental as your sexuality has been made completely alienating to you.” They sat forward, leering. “It must be maddening. Feeling like your desire and your memory are at war. Not knowing which one you can trust. Not knowing which one is really you.”

Mariah nodded slowly. It was exactly like that. She was so glad Dr. Cerulean understood—but at the same time, hearing it said out loud with such bluntness felt awful.

“Tell me more,” the psychiatrist beckoned. “Tell me everything.”

Mariah’s vision was starting to narrow. She made one great effort to tear her attention away from the Newton’s cradle—and couldn’t. She could feel herself losing focus. Losing wakefulness. It was just the way it had been back then. Her shaking worsened, but it wasn’t enough to jostle her from trance’s reaching fingertips.

“I… I…” Dr. Cerulean’s words conjured the very deepest, most awful truths from Mariah’s drowning mind. “I tried… to go back to him, after they arrested her. I knew she’d get out on bail, but it gave me enough time to c-come back to my senses. I went back to him, but… b-but I just couldn’t stand it. I c-couldn’t look at him the same. And when he touched me, I…”

There was a loud noise as Dr. Cerulean slapped their thigh. Mariah jumped, but even that wasn’t enough to break her focus.

“Wait, you tried to go straight back to your old life?” they wheezed. “Wow, yeah, no, don’t do that! You didn’t give yourself any breathing room. No time to process what had happened to you. You tried to force yourself back into an old groove, and then when you couldn’t, I bet you felt more broken than ever! Rookie mistake, seriously.”

Dr. Cerulean’s barely disguised amusement bothered Mariah, but not as much as it should have. She simply couldn’t think straight. Each loud tap as one of the balls of the Newton’s cradle impacted against its neighbor was overwhelming. As much as she wanted to get up and leave, Mariah’s legs wouldn’t obey her. The most she could do was point at the Newton’s cradle with a weak, trembling hand.

“Please,” she blubbered. “P-p-please make it stop. P-please. I can’t… I c-can’t…”

“Oops.” Beyond the cradle, Mariah could see that Dr. Cerulean’s tired, sunken eyes had become bright and leering. “Now you’re on the verge of a full-blown relapse, aren’t you? It looks like you really are that fragile. Well, it makes sense. Recounting your traumatic experiences while being exposed to an explicit reminder of your victimhood will do that to you. Not very recovered after all, huh?”

Mariah shook her head numbly as tears welled up in her eyes. She could see it so clearly now. She wasn’t recovered at all. She hadn’t moved forward even one inch since getting free. She was small. She was weak.

“Tell me,” Dr. Cerulean asked, “what are you so afraid of? You’re shaking like a leaf."

“I-I don’t want to hurt people again,” Mariah blurted out.

Dr. Cerulean set down their notepad and planted their hands on the desk, palms vertical, the tips of their fingertips pressed together. Mariah could feel those long fingers reaching into her. Peeling her open. Prying her secrets apart.

“Who did you hurt, Mariah?” Dr. Cerulean asked.

Mariah had never told anybody about that—but she couldn’t lie. Not here. Not now. Not with the Newton’s cradle. Mrs. Lawrence had always drilled that into her. Tell the truth.

“I h-helped her take other girls,” Mariah whispered. “Anybody who caught her eye. I m-made appointments with them. P-put things in their drinks. Sometimes she even m-made me hold them, so they’d keep looking at the…” She choked back a sob. “Mrs. Lawrence made me t-talk to them. Condition them. D-d-discipline them.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean said softly. “You must feel so guilty.”

“Yes!” The word erupted out of Mariah. It was all she could think about, every hour of every day.

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed softly. “You feel as though you were forced, outside of your own control, to commit acts that horrify you and compromise your sense of self. I think it’s crucial that we begin to reframe this.”

Mariah nodded slowly. She could do nothing else.

“Did you know that-“ Dr. Cerulean interrupted herself with a kind of gleeful chuckle. “Did you know that you cannot be hypnotized into doing anything that you don’t want to do?”

“Um.” Mariah blinked and swayed unsteadily. “W-what?”

No. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Cerulean insisted. “Hypnosis is just a little mind trick, really. It’s a way of lowering your inhibitions and suppressing your conscious mind, but do you really believe that it would make you a complete and total slave to whoever’s doing it to you? Lowering inhibitions simply implies the removal of a barrier to your true desires.”

“No.” Mariah shook her head violently. “N-no. No way. That’s… you’re…”

“Think about it,” Dr. Cerulean pressed, thin blue lips now stretched into a leering grin. “How did you feel when your boss used you sexually?”

Mariah flinched. “I-it felt good, but that’s only because she made-“

“Accepting our sexualities is often a battle,” Dr. Cerulean said agreeably. She made another note in her notepad. “How did you feel when you hurt those other women?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” Mariah begged, trembling. Dr. Cerulean just looked at her. “G-good. But that’s-“

“Of course.” The psychiatrist nodded. “Violence. Exercising power. It may be unpleasant, but it appeals to the baser parts of our natures. That’s a huge part of any form of so-called mind control. It provides a nice, convenient excuse for us to exercise desires we might normally feel the need to repress. And how about whenever you were ‘forced’ to obey your boss?”

Obey. That word lit a fuse in Mariah’s head.

“Obey,” she muttered. “Obey. O-obey. Obey. Obey. Obey.”

Normally, she was better than this. She could keep it under wraps. Not today. Not with the Newton’s cradle.

“A mantra!” Dr. Cerulean sounded pleased. “And so easy to trigger, too. This is good. Great, in fact. We’re making a lot of progress. I think we’re really starting to get to the root of your issues.”

“Obey.” Mariah kept repeating it under her breath. Each word gave rise to the next, unceasing, until her lungs were empty of air and she was shaking from the effort—but still, she kept going. “Obeyobeyobeyobeyobey.”

“Yes, yes, keep going,” Dr. Cerulean waved an idle hand in her direction. “Exposure therapy is a crucial tool. Remember what we were discussing earlier? You have to take back power from these things. You can’t keep making them special in your head. Repetition is a great way to do that.”

There was something soothing about hearing that. Mariah started easing into the mantra, letting her mind settle. She just needed to trust Dr. Cerulean. Her obedient liturgy was starting to make her feel calm again. Just like it always had with Mrs. Lawrence.

“Now, what was I saying?” Dr. Cerulean mused. “Oh, that’s right. Hypnosis. You really must consider what I’m saying. Perhaps the reason you’ve found all of this so difficult is that your boss was tapping into some of your deeply held repressed desires. Forcing you to confront them. Forcing you to accept the way they make you feel.”

“Obey,” Mariah panted. “Obey. Obey. Obey.”

“Obviously that’s just one way to conceptualize your experience,” Dr. Cerulean continued. “It might not sound right to you, but that’s where reframing comes in. At the end of the day, Mariah, you need to make a choice about what kind of narrative you want to fit onto your life. Ultimately, that’s all our egos amount to. They’re stories we tell about ourselves to find a semblance of security and comfort in our day-to-day lives. Which story flatters you the most? Which story brings you the most comfort? We need to help you answer that question so that you can find a degree of fulfillment.”

“Obey… obey… obey…” Mariah was slowing now, as the mantra drove all the way down to a deeper layer of hypnotism, leaving her in a place so dark and still even speaking was too much effort for her.

“Enough of that now,” Dr. Cerulean instructed dismissively. “You want control, don’t you Mariah? Think about it: which narrative makes you feel in control? Which one will help you reclaim your life?”

Mariah’s eyelids fluttered as she bent her mind to the question. When they were open, she could see Dr. Cerulean, lurking beyond the Newton’s cradle. When they were closed, she could see Mrs. Lawrence. Her boss. Her brainwasher. It was terrifying—but what if it didn’t have to be? Mariah could remember a time she hadn’t been scared. A time when she’d eagerly obeyed her boss with the eagerness of a docile lamb.

More than ever, she longed for it.

But… that was wrong, wasn’t it?

“I…” Mariah grasped. “No, I… I’m straight?”

Dr. Cerulean shook their head slowly. “You’re a little behind, Mariah. Remember. Narratives. Reframing. Are you really straight? Or is that simply what you’ve always believed? Many queer people suffer from a degree of internalized bigotry, and respond by desperately clinging to a veneer of heteronormativity. I promise you, Mariah. This room is a safe space. You can explore your feelings and desires here.”

Mariah’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. What Dr. Cerulean was telling her didn’t sound right—but then again, Mariah had no idea what would. And the pale psychiatrist sounded so expert. So sure.

“Let’s approach this on a more basic level,” Dr. Cerulean offered. “You need to relearn confidence in your basic drives. It’s important that you proceed without doubting yourself too much. I want you to accept yourself. To embrace your feelings. That’s the only way you can begin to heal. With that in mind, let me ask you: how do you feel about men?”

The Newton’s cradle was coming to rest, but that provided little comfort. As its motion slowed, Mariah felt her thoughts slowing along with it. She was swimming in trance. The word ‘obey’ was still echoing in her head. She couldn’t get beyond her first, strongest response.

“I c-can’t stand them,” she whimpered.

“Good,” Dr. Cerulean said poisonously. “I’m glad you can accept that about yourself. Now, how do you feel about women?”

“I… I…” That question triggered a sudden sunburst of emotion in Mariah’s head. Ideas, impulses, and beliefs all poured into her, each one pulled by a thread that was a memory or a sensation. They awakened something in her, something that burst past her lips in a wet, needy ejaculation. “I-I belong on my knees for women!”

“Another mantra?” Dr. Cerulean leered. “Interesting. It seems like we’re making a lot of progress here. As I told you, I want you to have confidence in your feelings and desires. So please, don’t stop yourself. Do whatever it is that feels most right to you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable in the moment.”

A great weight was pressing down on Mariah’s shoulders. Simply sitting in her chair felt so nauseatingly wrong, she couldn’t bear it. The only thing that seemed comfortable was slipping out of it, down onto her knees beneath Dr. Cerulean’s desk. The cold, uncomfortable floor welcomed her with the familiarity of a well-worn mattress.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean mused. “At the risk of moving a little too fast, perhaps we should try a little word association. That can be a very useful way to uncover the real roots of psychological issues. So, Mariah: you belong on your knees for women?”

Mariah choked back another sob as the words flowed out of her. “I b-belong on my knees for women. A good secretary’s place is under the desk. I l-love to be at women’s feet. I belong on my knees for… for women. A good secretary’s p-place is under the desk. I… I… hng… I love to be at women’s feet!”

Her stomach was a noxious cauldron. An iron pall of palpitating nausea sat inside her. The sense of anxious danger that had haunted her for months now was frothing like never before. But above it sat a thick, dense, smothering fog that whispered to her: this was all good. It was right. It was her place.

Mariah was trying to listen to the danger-sense. She was failing. It was too painful. She just wanted to stop thinking.

“It stands out to me that your set of associations ends with a reference to women’s bodies.” Mariah heard Dr. Cerulean’s voice from above, as the strange psychiatrist sat back calmly in their chair. That was another thing she was used to. “That may be the key to your desires, Mariah. Listen to them. Show me what comes next.”

As they spoke, Dr. Cerulean slowly slipped out of her shoes, using each one to pry the other off. Underneath, they were wearing a strange pair of pineapple socks; yellow and patterned on the lower part, and leaf-green around their ankles. Their socks, though, weren’t what had caught Mariah’s attention. She was distracted by the simple fact that she was in her place, under a desk, and an authoritative woman was looming over her with their feet dangling in her face.

Mariah followed her desires. She did what came naturally to her. With tears still in her eyes, lips still mouthing the words Mrs. Lawrence had imprinted on her mind, she reached out and began massaging Dr. Cerulean’s feet.

Dr. Cerulean let out a glib chuckle, then sighed contentedly. “Look at you now. You’re under the desk, repeating your mantras, looking for another woman’s feet to worship. A complete and total relapse! How unfortunate.”

“I… I… I-I…” Another sob threatened to rip loose from Mariah’s throat. She wanted to speak, to argue, to apologize, to beg, but she already knew that if she tried, the only thing that would come out was her boss’s mantra.

A relapse. It was the rock-bottom Mariah had been afraid of for so long. All the urges she had been fighting to hold in check were oozing out. She was on her knees again. She was languishing in the pit of her own awful, dirty, lustful feelings about women. It felt awful. It felt like home.

“I know, I know,” Dr. Cerulean agreed. “It’s tough. But what do I keep telling you about, Mariah? Reframing! It’s an essential tool. Consider: what if this isn’t relapsing? What if this is simply who you are?”

Whatever part of Mariah might have wanted to push back against that had been broken into silence. As Mariah trembled and sobbed and eagerly, expertly pushed her thumbs against the soles of Dr. Cerulean’s feet, it seemed impossible to deny. Wasn’t this who she was? Wasn’t what she was doing right now the proof?

“It’s up to you, of course,” Dr. Cerulean added. “This is all about your wellbeing, Mariah. You’re perfectly free to define the goals of your own therapy. The perspectives I’m offering you are nothing more than food for thought. So, what do you think?”

As she knelt there, Mariah thought about what it would mean if she insisted upon her need for recovery and healing. It would mean more months of therapy and counseling, of twitchiness and jitteriness, of viewing herself, first and foremost, as a victim. It would mean looking over her shoulder for Mrs. Lawrence everywhere she went, and constantly guilt and shame whenever she found herself glancing at another woman. It would mean perhaps years of slowly building herself back up so she could learn to trust again, so she could reclaim her sexuality on her own terms—hell, so she could even work in an office again.

It was too much.

Just like that, Mariah gave up.

“Y-you’re right, Dr. Cerulean.” Mariah’s voice was still trembling desperately, but as she spoke, a haunted grin came to her face. “T-thinking about how I really feel… I guess it’s o-obvious. I’m j-just a lesbian.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Cerulean remarked. They sounded like they were beginning to crack up laughing. “And all those things you did for your boss?”

Mariah let out a twitchy laugh too. “I j-just did those things for Mistress because I wanted to.”

“Very interesting. Even hurting those other women?”

The noise that erupted from Mariah’s throat was a sob and a laugh in equal measure. “Y… y-yes. That’s right. I w-w-wanted to.”

“My goodness,” Dr. Cerulean sounded like she was fighting to suppress a moan as Mariah gave in. “That’s quite the breakthrough.”

Mariah wanted to. She wanted to serve her boss because she was a submissive lesbian. She wanted to hurt other women for her mistress because it turned her on. It was that simple. She was that simple.

“Why don’t you sit back up here?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “One question: what do you think about the way your boss hypnotized you?”

As Mariah came up from under the desk, she glanced at the Newton’s cradle sitting on the psychiatrist’s desk. It had long since come to rest, but the sight of it still made her stomach churn.

“M-Mistress knows what’s best for me,” Mariah bleated, forcing her nausea down. Forcing herself to fall back on what her boss had taught her. “Mistress thinks for me b-better than I can.”

Dr. Cerulean sat forward as they let out a great, wheezing chuckle. “Let me get this straight,” they said. “Do you imagine that your boss knew that you were a lesbian all along, and was simply pushing you to accept it?”

A tear trickled down Mariah’s cheek. “Y-y-yeah.” She made herself believe it.

“Wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, and shrugged. “Well, yeah, that certainly sounds plausible to me. No issues there. We discussed your internalized homophobia earlier. I suppose being forced to confront that must have caused a kind of backlash. Very unfortunate.”

“R-right.” Mariah sat bolt upright in the chair as she felt compulsion snap tight around her like a collar on her neck. “Oh my god. I n-need to go back to Mistress. I need to find her again.”

“Oh yes?” Dr. Cerulean leaned forward intently. “And why’s that?”

Mariah’s happy, grateful smile was so wide. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to stop crying. “I need to apologize. I need to b-b-beg for her forgiveness.”

Tears were welling up in Dr. Cerulean’s eyes too—but only because they were fighting so hard to keep a tight rein on their mirth. “That sounds great!” the psychiatrist agreed. “Rebuilding the bridges we burn during moments of crisis can be so important. And far be it from me to keep you any longer—although I’d love to schedule a follow-up in a few weeks’ time. Just so I can, ah, see how you’re getting on.”

Mariah nodded eagerly. She was so thankful to Dr. Cerulean for helping her get her head on straight. Really, it was the least she could do.

As Dr. Cerulean stood up to see Mariah out, they carelessly set down on their desk the small notepad they had been taking notes on. With it face up, Mariah could see a few of the choice comments Dr. Cerulean had made:

‘BOOOORING I’m so sad blah blah blah’ ‘messing with her orientation? nice lol’ ‘dig for mantras?’ ‘oh she’s COOKED cooked.’ ‘amazed someone else hasn’t scooped her up already’ ‘regular follow-ups? the massage is pretty good’

Mariah decided to ignore them. She decided they had to be about somebody else. Fortunately, Dr. Cerulean distracted her from it by sliding another piece of paper across the desk.

“Now, about that release?” the psychiatrist asked politely. “I think this could be really great material for a fic. I can see getting a lot of Ao3 kudos for this one.”

With a tight, harrowed, unsteady, haunted grin on her tear-stained face, Mariah obediently signed her name and then hurried back to return to her life as a brainwashed, submissive, lesbian secretary. As she left, Dr. Cerulean leaned back in their chair and slipped their hand down the front of their pants.

“All in a day’s work,” Dr. Cerulean murmured to themself. “Now, let me see if I can finish before my five o’clock.”

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Nimapode, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, J, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Dasterin, Djura, Pluto, Joe, Mattilda, Ana, proletkvlt, DOLLICIOUS, Yodasgirl, Allie~, Cusco-, Griffin, Bouncyrou, Hazelpup, Jakitron, Leah, ravenfan, Ash, ferretfyre, Christopher, Alphy D, Latavia, KBZ, Ashe, jlc, Jackson, Elizabeth, noe, Steve, Melo, gynoidpoet, MaeMae2569, Thomas, Haggisllama, naughtzero, Nevin, Waddings, Aletheia, NewtypeWoman, FinixFire, ostara, Ivy, Ramanas, Myles_EXVS, tidalGardener

#story

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sombredancer · 2 days ago

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The best cdrama of 2024

is The Spirealm. I love it, love it, LOVE IT! Beware of being heavily spoiled ahead! What I was fond of: 🔑It's a nice story about finding love a true friend and a reason to live even if you are very lonely and abandoned by everyone, and it's full of tenderness and jokes. (Sometimes these jokes were so BL that I thought this drama should have been shot in Taiwan).

LQS: *whispers* I'm a dedicated materialist, I'm a dedicated materialist... RLZ: Yeah, yeah, I got it... RLZ: 👀... RLZ: If you are a materialist, why don't you say it to her? LQS: ... LQS: I'm not a that dedicated materialist! RLZ: ... RLZ: RUN! The main heroes are going the whole way from this:

RLZ: If you are not capable of passing even your first trial, you are worthless. to this:

Calmly accompanying each other on their way to the doom. 🔑 I love its lore and the detective part. As far as I watch cdramas, I try to avoid Chinese detectives because they are very fairytail-ish and don't allow you to participate mentally in the investigation. But it's not that case! (Who knew we would find real detective cases in a horror drama!). You can participate in investigation and even find out the truth before the main heroes will, and it's... pleasant. Btw, the mystical detective cases are so different in their levels of horror and mystics that you def will find something to please you even if you are a horror movies hater like me.

🔑 The horror stories were re-made for the adaptation in a very interesting way. Every monster is related to the inner pain of the main hero: they are betrayed, traumatized, abandoned by people they loved, just like him. So he feels pity and sorry for them and redeems them instead of killing. And, moreover, it makes impact throughout the whole story, on the main hero's 11th door as well on his relationship with his lover.

🔑Speaking of traumatized monsters. The first time I ugly cried over this drama was a story of the 4th monster. The monster! Made me cry!

But of course it wasn't the last time I cried my eyes out. The secondary characters of this drama are lovable, too. And the lore mechanics makes the awaiting of death so unbearable painful... You physically can feel the huge weight of characters' despair when they know that they or their dearest will die in a few minutes and there is ABSOLUTELY nothing they can do about it. This level of pain is something else, indeed.

But the most painful scene, where I cried the hardest, was not a scene of someone's death, but a scene of interaction between the main hero and his mother. She told him not to show up again, because she has a new family now, and was about to throw his school dreams and memories into the dump. What kind of mother she is!!😡

🔑And the most important thing about this drama: all detective cases allow you to restore the main story, piece by piece. And this story is about bone-piercing loneliness. The main hero was bullied in school, abandoned by his family and betrayed (kind of) by his best friend. His life was meaningless before he met his partner, the only person who returned to him the reason to live. But he happened to be a monster made specifically for the main hero to accompany him to the 12th door, a virus that needed to get to the 12th level with the help of the main hero to destroy the game. But the main hero's kindness to other un-humans, his ability to understand their pain despite of who they are, melted even monster's heart and made him genuinely love the main hero. It's truly sad that the main hero refused the real world and spent all his years left to make the world of his dreams and to get his lover back, but it's a story about loneliness, so I can't blame him. In his place, I would do the same.

The first meet

and the last. And the last but not least: I adore the technical part of this drama! I love RLZ's costumes! They are classical yet not really standard, make him conspicuous and give a feeling to a viewer that he is someone special. That he is somehow ethereal.

But he is not the only one whose clothes are saying. The White Deer people have their own style as well, so you can understand almost immediately that the characters in strange and pretentious clothes are related. And the main villain's costumes tell a lot about his personality.

And the set designs! They were marvelous! They gave me a feeling of vastness, as if the characters really were in other, spacious worlds.

And the soundtrack! I love it! It's such a shame that iQIYI didn't publish BGM and OST officially. But I found some of the tracks on YouTube. My favorites are the soundtrack to the 4th case: 森川-佐子 here and the variations of the door theme: 门 (变奏) here and 门 (门中门) here. Love it and highly recommend! 💙

#cdrama #the spirealm #spirealm #kaleidoscope of death #xia zhiguang #lin qiushi #ruan lanzhu #cdrama recs #huang junjie #SDaboutSpirealm

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superman86to99 · 3 days ago

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Superman #93 (September 1994)

ZERO HOUR CROSSOVER! Due to the time-related shenanigans going on around the DC Universe, Superman meets his Kryptonian parents again -- and this time, his mom doesn't want to puke when she sees him! In fact, she even gives him a motherly kiss. Aww.

We start with Supergirl fighting some 68th century aliens who found themselves transported to present-day Earth and apparently figured they might as well invade it. Superman drops by and deals with the aliens via his usual approach to problem-solving: he just chucks their ship back into space.

As the heroes land back in Metropolis, Lois Lane hands Superman her cellular telephone because he has a call from Ma Kent, who sounds pretty panicked. The call abruptly cuts off, and there's a dramatic moment where Superman wonders if he can really leave the whole "the universe is in danger" thing aside for a while...

...before deciding that, yes, his mom is more important, obviously.

So, Superman flies to Smallville to check on his parents, only to find two surprise characters in their home: freaking' Psi-Phon and Dreadnaught. Wait, no, it's his other parents, Jor-El and Lara, just standing in the Kent's kitchen. Jor-El explains that, after sending little baby Kal-El's rocket to Earth all those years ago, they realized Krypton wasn't exploding after all, whoops. A scientist called Jen-Em had figured out how to stall the explosion, and then, after years of work, they managed to cure Krypton of its explosive tendencies for good.

Superman quickly figures out that this must be the result of the weirdness caused by Zero Hour (after all, he's been to Krypton and saw that there's nothing but a big ball of green gas there), but he agrees to put on a Cyclops-esque visor that will show him Jor-El's story in more detail.

Through the futuristic Viewmaster, Superman learns that in this timeline, Krypton's near-death experience caused the Kryptonians to re-evaluate their priorities and abandon their cold, emotionless ways (hence this Lara not being repulsed by her son). In fact, Lara became the first modern Kryptonian to get pregnant and have a child the old fashioned way -- meaning that, yes, Superman has a brother, Zan-El. Zan not only grew up to become "prefect over the entire planet" (so, world president) but, more importantly, he also brought back the shorter togas and fashionable headbands of Krypton's ancient, Mike Mignola-designed past.

Meanwhile, Jor-El had spent all those decades working on a cure to the genetic defect that kills Kryptonians if they try to leave the planet. He finally came up with a serum that temporarily allowed him and Lara to visit Earth, but it's already wearing off. So, Superman has to decide quickly: will he go live in alternate, non-exploded Krypton with his biological family? Or will he stay with his adoptive one that actually raised him and made him who he is?

Superman agonizes over the choice for a moment, but then he's like "hey, wait a minute, I can just go visit!" He informs the Els of his decision and they're overjoyed -- until a poorly-timed thunderbolt full of chronal energy strikes their spaceship and erases them from reality.

"The last son of Krypton is orphaned once again." Damn, Jurgens.

Metron of the New Gods comes to remind the grieving Superman that all the other superheroes are waiting for him at Zero Hour #3 (now on sale!), but Superman says they can wait a little longer because he has something important to do: hug his Earth parents and tell them he loves them.

CONTINUED IN ZERO HOUR!

Plotline-Watch:

This is a classic issue, obviously, but my problem with it is that one of the "next issue" blurbs in another Super-Title had teased it as "Guess who's coming to dinner?" -- and yet there's no scene of the Kents and the Els enjoying any type of meal. I haven't read the recent Zero Hour 30th Anniversary Special by Jurgens (I will once we're done covering the event), but this scene better be in it.

At the start of the issue, as she fights the aliens, Supergirl sees the Superman hologram that he and Metron created with Green Lantern's help in Zero Hour #4. We'll go over every DC comic that got spammed with green holo-Superman in another post.

It greatly pleases me that Superman specifically mentions the time, exactly 75 issues ago, when Hawkman took him to see Krypton's remains (at which point Superman hallucinated a timeline where the Kryptonians survived by becoming even bigger assholes). Sure, it later turned out that this was an evil Hawkman impostor who inexplicably helped save Superman's life, but Superman probably doesn't know about that whole mess, plus I think Zero Hour is about to delete it from continuity anyway.

The reason for that genetic link to Krypton that Jor-El mentions was the Eradicator, as revealed in Action Annual #2, but Jurgens also refrains from opening that particular can of worms in this comic (especially since the Eradicator is currently running around with a superhero team and even appears in Zero Hour).

Metropolis Mailbag:

Imagine our delight (and our embarrassment) when we opened the newsletter archive page for Man of Steel #37 last week and saw there was a comment there from Mr. Jon Bogdanove himself, which had been sitting there unanswered for over a month! Agh! Here it is in full:

"Don—Outstanding job identifying all the Batmen ( You even got Walt!!). The only one you didn’t get reflects my failure. What you guessed was Marshall Rogers was meant to be Bernie Wrightson. However I deeply regret NOT including Marshall. I really should have. I also left out Norm, mainly because I didn’t think I could do him justice. I tried a few sketches and was able to identify a number of tropes we took a similar approach to—but I just wasn’t satisfied that I could really nail Norm—at least in the time I had left. Teaching myself all these different styles really pushed the drop-dead deadline to the limit. I really put poor Dennis and Whitty under the gun on this one. I did learn a hell of a lot drawing this issue though. Nothing like studying the masters to help you learn!! BTW: Weezie and I love that everyone hated Jeb so very much. One gets to draw many villains in one’s career, but rarely does one get to create so dislikeable a douchebag! I consider Jeb a genuine achievement. I know 90’s Jimmy annoys some people, but to me Jimmy was always meant to be comic relief. I liked playing Jimmy as this doofus kid with a middle-aged dad’s sense of cool. He still cracks me up. I would love to do a Retro look at Zero Hour—perhaps a vignette from that same night— in which 90s Jimmy meets himself from various other timelines—Golden Age office boy Jimmy, Silver-Age drag queen Jimmy, Kirby-era Jimmy, etc. I’d dedicate it to Max!"

And my shamefully late response (gonna go ahead and blame the time disturbances for it):

"I am mortified that we hadn't seen this comment until now! (Didn't realize the newsletter wouldn't alert us, argh) Sir, if you don't draw that Jimmy idea, I swear I will commission it from you one day. I would add Turtle Boy Jimmy, My Adventures with Superman Jimmy, and of course bald, Superman-hating Jerry Ordway Jimmy. Just no Jebs, please."

(I now check the newsletter archive pages for comments 75 times a day, unless I forget.)

Shout Outs-Watch:

Time-displaced shout outs to our SUPporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Dave Shevlin, and Dave Blosser! Join them (and get extra non-continuity articles; the latest one was about Superman fighting a guy called BONECHILL in the 1989 cartoon) via Patreon or our newsletter’s “pay what you want” mode!

And now: more from Don Sparrow, who sent me his section weeks ago but it also got lost in time (actually, I decided to cover Zero Hour #4 first). Keep reading:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We open with the cover, and while it’s a bit broad, it’s certainly accurate for the story within. I kinda dig that “DC Universe” trade dress, though it didn’t seem to last very long. Inside the issue, we’re met with a lovely full-page splash of Supergirl amidst a LOT going on—thunderclouds, lightning, a firing spacecraft and a Star Wars style holographic projection of Superman.

I wasn’t sure which review to tackle first, Zero Hour #4, or this one, but since they seem to take place more or less at the same time (with the holographic message coming early into issue 4, but the New York meeting coming in Zero Hour #3), I flipped a coin and went with this one as happening first. As the story progresses, Supergirl gets an assist from the Man of Steel in dealing with the timelost aliens, brusquely tossing them into space. This issue exemplifies a trend I’ve noticed with Jurgens’ layouts since the Death and Return storyline—he uses a lot fewer panels per page than he once did, often with a near full page splash and then two or three panels laid overtop. Visually, it’s very arresting, and Jurgens knocks the background splashes out of the park—on pages 4 and 5, despite being nearly identical scenarios (Superman and Supergirl flying in a stormy sky), they’re both so well handled, you don’t even mind the repetition. But from a storytelling standpoint, it really does feel like a little less to read each issue, so the Superman issues seem a little thinner in terms of what actually happens. Anyone else notice this? [Max: For me at the time, the shorter plots were balanced out by the fact that I spent more time looking at the big, awesome pictures, as opposed to the smaller, lamers ones in the backissues I was buying, with all that wasted white space between panels. I'm paying for the full page to be used, dammit!!!]

Back to the art, page 7 has a great drawing of a pensive Superman. Page 9 is a great image, but a bit of a missed opportunity—the last panel would have been more impactful had Jor-El REALLY looked identical to Kal-El (which I’ve mocked up). [Max: I also made a small change to the panel, see if you can spot it...]

I do appreciate Jurgens’ and Rubinstein’s effort to still give the Els expressive faces, without eyebrows.

As Jor-El shares the alternate history of Krypton, Superman in the VR visor is pretty reminiscent of Cyclops from X-Men. It’s compelling to see the flowing outfits that Zan-El and his bride wear, in opposition to the robes of Jor and Lara—much more like the early more Roman look shown in the first issue of the World of Krypton series. My guess is the group that attend Zan’s nuptials are all members of the El family--I had thought that the different Kryptonian houses would wear different colours rather than everyone in green, but aside from the odd panel from Action Annual #2, I can’t seem to find much corroboration of that assumption. The sweet image of Lara giving her son a peck on the cheek is quietly powerful, with a great expression on Superman’s face on page 17. Lastly, the tragic page of chronal discharge (which sounds like a rap metal band name) and electrical storms is well drawn.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

When Superman is hemming and hawing over whether to focus on the extinction level event the superheroes are facing, or head to the farm to help his parents, Supergirl posits “There’s only one choice and you know it.” I completely thought that it was setting up for him to focus on saving all of humanity rather than popping home for a visit.

Perhaps it’s because they were trying to have the Zero Hour books serve as a jumping on point for new readers (particularly the zero issues, which are coming soon) but some of the dialogue in this issue feels clunkily expository, like when Superman reminds his fiancée Lois and quasi-family member Supergirl that the Kents “may not have been {his} genetic parents, but they’re real as they come”, or later when Superman explains to Jor-El and Lara (and the reader) about Krypton’s explosion, and the Matrix chamber rocketship.

They kinda gloss over whether there was any fallout about being wrong about Krypton exploding, though I suppose it was more about Jen-Em stabilizing the core rather than Jor being wrong. [Max: "Krypton is gonna blow up, guys" is definitely a meme among the current Kryptonian generation because the scientists did such a great job stopping it, like Y2K or the hole in the ozone layer here.]

Have we ever seen a post-Crisis Kryptonian depicted as having anything but black hair? [Max: I'm pretty sure there were some non-black haired ones in World of Krypton, but it's hard to tell with the eyebrow-less, nun habit-wearing ones. It's possible they made other hair colors go away once they got all into eugenics, though.]

It’s interesting that this alternate Krypton goes one step further than Byrne’s origin, regarding the Els. In Byrne’s history, Jor-El was a rebel in his society because he had actual affection for his lifemate, Lara. The notion of natural conception and birth goes even further than that, and was explored in the Man of Steel film, where (spoiler alert?) Kal himself was the first child naturally conceived in love in generations.

This issue also reveals that the familiar robes and headpieces worn by Jor-El and Lara aren’t simply traditional garb, they’re referred to as life support suits.

Though the Kents are worried about losing Clark to his Kryptonian parents, Jonathan is all man, which explains why he picks this particular moment to go to second base with his elderly wife. [Max: He instinctively wanted to get working on a replacement son, forgetting he's been shooting blanks since youth...]

While Superman cries in anguish at seeing his biological parents detonate, Metron simply refers to them as “unfortunates”. All heart, that one.

Missed an issue? Looking for an old storyline? Check out our new chronological issue index!

#superman #dan jurgens #josef rubinstein #supergirl #jor-el #lara #krypton #zero hour #ma kent #pa kent #metron #new gods #superman's brother president zan #totally rad #superman throwing his problems into orbit

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starry-pop · 2 months ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONSTANCE BLACKWOOD!!!

Genuinely one of my fav characters ever I love her forever and ever

Fun fact: if she was a real person and was also still alive today and she would be 33 years old!

#this is actually kinda old art but I still haven’t posted it here #and today is better than never!!#I’ll make an actual birthday drawing for her tomorrow i just didn’t today cus i was sleepy #BUT ILL PULL THROUGH BC SHE DESERVES IT 💞��💞#I’ve never been able to look at a character and say I relate to them entirely before #so it’s just really special to find that character and that story and it’s really stuck with me #Constance Blackwood ily forever!!#Constance Blackwood #rtc #ride the cyclone #happy birthday Constance!

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fenkko · 2 years ago

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cant believe i reached 30 tags in prev post rambling about homestuck i didnt even know there was a limit

#i usually save word diarrhea for twitter but hope someone enjoys the huge dump i took here for once #anyways tldr homestuck orv and taz are all special stories to me in kind of similar ways #that i would elaborate on if i thought i could piece together my words that would entice people rather than scare them off lmao #so i'll just say IT's COOL.. I SWEAR #and also genshin which is an outlier i suppose bc its the only capital P Popular thing #but i'd also put genshin w those first three stories in terms of how interesting i find their storytelling methods and narrative themes #i love the pockets of genshin fandom that are ppl obsessing over fragments of lore and making big conspiracy boards #i dont really interact w main genshin fandom but i like peeking at the other pockets haha. like the people investigating khaenri'ah lore..#very cool.. and people invested in sumeru gang. the sumeru characters are so interesting #whole city of eccentrics you can bash together and examine #i'm scara and childe fan forever idk what they did to my brain but i think they were a psyop #made specifically in ways they knew would target me and the things i like damn ‼️#someone at genshin HQ put crack in these guys and i cant stop drawing them and coming up w ideas to draw my beautiful muses that ruined me

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kn11ves · 6 months ago

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my comic is live right now!

kyle and rex is an absurdist drama set in a stagnant afterlife where everyone lies, cheats, manipulates, and hurts each other in order to gain political power and admiration from the public.

with characters constantly haunted by ghosts of the past, trying to stay on top of the food chain despite constant betrayals and having their secrets held up above their heads, comes back kyle, from his long stay back as a guiding spirit on earth, to take back reigns of the throne in the inbetween. though much like everyone else, hes got a long list of dirty laundry that many are aching to reveal. there are no real friends here.

⸻

updates every 2 weeks, at 6:30 pm central US time! (SP & ENG)

WEBTOON: english link + spanish link

TAPAS: english link + spanish link

FANEO: spanish link

#HI. GUYS. PUKES EVERYWHERE #im SO FUCKING NERVOUS #oh but first of all the link on top is a link to the promotional animation that goes along with the airing of my comic :) so if you want to #watch that you can. smile #anyways im just. really beyond excited and also terrified to start. cus you know #once i upload this theres no going back and im going to be constantly then publishing project after project thereafter and thats pretty muc #what ive been wanting to do all my life #so im just like this is the start of it this is going to set everything into motion!!!#im not expecting to get a ton of followers or readers or anyhting this soon specially since i think it starts to get GOOOOOD #after you learn some context but this is my first first original launch and im really excited!!!!!#i usually dont do this because i dont find it very important to me not as much as telling a really good story at least but obviously i have #tons of trans and lgbt just entire rainbow up in there and the majority of the characters #are not white they are from different cultures AND times #so if youre looking to read brown and queer stories by authors of the same there is that #anyone is fully welcomed to send any asks with questions or anything whatsoever!!!#i know its sort of a long post but as a notice i will be reblogging this every time i finish an entire new chapter #to keep people aware!!! c: i know it may be a bit annoying but i just want to get the word out !!#if youre bilingual i think it would be fun to see the differences between the translations i put i translated it myself since spanish is my #first language and well i think is funney :3 #smile!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#kyle and rex #my comic #webtoon #tapas #faneo #what do people tag these things wif.....#my art #technically!#i supourse ill have to rb it to my art blogs too yipee!!!

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quietwingsinthesky · 10 months ago

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at some point i am going to have to force even to go back and deal with donna & tentoo & rose & all and everything they ran away from. and that will probably involve them losing tentoo’s chameleon arch watch by giving it back to its rightful owner, whether she chooses to open it or not. and that is. not going to be a very fun or stable time for them.

#this part is v vague and fuzzy because i want to watch the rest of 12 & 13 and finish the doctor/donna specials before i set anything in #stone about it. but i think i need to rearrange some things in the timeline here vis a vis when the doctor is also forced to go back and #deal with his baggage.#i dont think 14 exists in even’s universe for this reason. and for the reason of tentoo kind of taking on his role? the human part of the #doctor who can stay with donna & with rose.#she’s also trans to me because i love trans!tentoo. her name is johanna. i think it’s pretty. i make a singular exception to my rule of #never changing characters names when i trans them.#but i think. what im getting at here is that this cant be a happy ending. not so cleanly. its more bittersweet.#like i think this version of the story. what i have so far. donna does remember. (tentoo doesn’t but that’s because she’s become her own #person. the doctor is who she came from but she isn’t just the doctor anymore.) and rose knows her doctor is out there and loves her but #she has her wife at home.#and even. oh even. you can’t hold onto a heart that’s not yours forever. you have to give it back.#this. i think. is a moment of respite and recovery for the doctor. and a really really low point for even. however this works out.#its not perfect but there’s kindness in it. and there’s a home to go back to. if they can bear it. both of them.#but like i said. this is all preliminary based on what i might play around with here. and how watching more of the show changes my ideas.#but i think. whatever revelations come in 13’s arc. i think in even’s universe they have to come after donna. i’ll find a way to make it #work.#but mostly right now the important thing is forcing even to give up the watch because why would i let them have one single comfort object <3 #dw oc

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vault81 · 5 months ago

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Just thinking about it, but it's kinda weird how your dead spouse is kinda just glossed over when it comes to the fo4 romances, besides Preston (iirc)

like my partner just died like 4 days ago but let me just romance this guy I just met, as far as I know, Preston is the only companion to actually address this in his romance. Like its just a weird writing choice to me, not to mention that the spouse gets like 2.5 seconds of screentime and gets only a few mentions during the main quest.

#am i making any sense?#idk how to quite articulate it #like I feel like that should've had a much bigger impact on the romances and sole survivor in general #but it just kinda seems #brushed to the side #“oh no! anyway!”#i feel like the spouse could've been integrated much better #like maybe you could've had a choice of background for fo4 and the spouse is one of those options #and that'd have some special lines of dialogue during the mq and any characters you romance #and then it'd make more sense RPG wise to be able to romance the companions without feeling weird for moving on from your dead spouse #2 seconds after they've died #or maybe have the spouse not die at all #maybe they're just injured and just wake up from cryo much later #and they find out you think they've died and moved on #there could've been like an interesting lil story there #iirc i don't even think sole mentions it outside preston/piper when it comes to romances #ik you can bring it up with knight rhys but not danse??#i should remember i literally just romanced him like 5/6 months ago lmao #also im really tired so im probably not articulating this as best as i could lol

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mirror-to-the-past · 7 months ago

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Oh, hey! A post that also thinks what I was thinking about... awesome!

There's absolutely something to be said about the distinction between charisma versus those who view people as an almost compulsive puzzle to be solved. Kabru is clearly charismatic, but that charisma is evidently a result of an awkward medley of analyzing sorting people into traits and backgrounds.

The way he boils Mithrun's real-life backstory down to a streamlined version as to make it more understandable 'to others' is very telling to me. There are no 'others,' really, when it comes to the very sensitive situation of literally pouring out your sad backstory to someone... that's just evident of how Kabru has learned to handle other people's personalities and their emotions. He doesn't simply nod his head and go "wow, that's tough, I understand/I'm sorry that happened to you," he goes "okay, so this is clearly a relevant childhood event that shaped [A] aspect of your personality, so I'll mentally lock that in as a trait of yours to focus on." Every person is a sort of narrative to him- falling into archetypes that both give them their individualism and purpose in Kabru's eyes, and Kabru views them through his 'hero's journey' distinctions by which to further understand them. People joke about his "main character energy," but I truly think it a deliberate self-modelling of his personality. He *wants* to be the main character in his hero's journey, able to best emulate what he thinks are good morals and behaviors that allow him to achieve his lofty goals. So, he appeals to others based off of that, trying to be a mirror to what best bounces off of them- his fellow characters in their collective stories.

As a semi-side note, this way of processing the feelings and stories around him is why I tentatively disagree, at least in my own personal reading (everyone is entitled to their own understanding of these characters), that Kabru is necessarily an empathetic individual. I think that he is indeed someone who cares about others, and has goals that are very humanitarian and advocate for the well-being of as many people as possible. He actively aids others in personalized ways to help them better themselves, as seen through your example with Kuro and the common language lessons. Does that mean that Kabru necessarily internalizes the emotions of others in a personalized sense- as in allowing their reactions and feelings to bleed into his own? No, I don't think so. He considers other people's reactions and emotions like something to be anticipated- an aspect of an equation- and he reacts accordingly. You can absolutely care about others without having to personally understand where they're coming from. You can also understand how a machine works without feeling the cogs whirring and pistons pumping. Similarly, someone who dedicates themselves immensely to how people tick can see the cause-and-effect relationship between someone's external stimuli, their personality, their background, etc. and why they might feel or react a certain way about something. It's a certain flavor of understanding that certainly gets the job done, often even to an extent that others truly feel like they are being considered and understood, but is largely a deliberate concoction of mirroring.

I believe this is why I've seen people saying that Kabru is manipulative, and I won't even say that they're wrong, but rather, I'd ask them to reconsider the often-demonized idea of "manipulation" when looking at context. I truly do think that this kind of "manipulation," especially when used by neurodivergent people who may be very low-empathy, allows them to better help the people they care for in their lives. By acting in a way that allows them to feel like they have a safe space or are understood when others talk to them, individuals like Kabru are able to utilize their internal dismantling of other's personalities to best meld their own responses to their unique troubles in a way that suits the people in their lives to their benefit. It's an altruistic masking, is how I've always seen it. Is is disconcerting to many neurotypical people when neurodivergent people explain this way of thinking to them? Yes! I've personally encountered it, and have had people tell me that I'm off-kilter or a bit robotic. Is it uncaring/cruel, or trying to take advantage of others? No, not really. Think about it this way: when we tell a joke in a tense room, are we not knowingly manipulating people to feel happier? Anywho, I'll cease the philosophizing and return to the character analysis...

So, revisiting the 'hero's journey' outlook he tries to apply to other's (and his own) personalities, I also find it funny how Kabru's clearly developed a general social script for himself he considers successful enough to follow. He doesn't "read the room" to try to instinctually realize if he can charm someone or not with his signature "Kabru smile," he just does it anyway, because that's what he's devised as a habit for himself, and then immediately tries to adjust and furiously figure out what went wrong when he sees it isn't successful (see Laios and Mithrun).

In line with his storybook-like thinking, Kabru can be very black-and-white, as seen through his internal judgment of characters like Laios who are on the "bad side" in his agenda, his difficulties with the elves' behavior, and situations such as when he fully vouches for the man who controlled the underbelly of the Dungeon (because y'know, he's on *their* side, the side of the common man! he couldn't fall to corruption!). He often refrains from expressing this outwardly, although he becomes notably more vocal about his honest qualms and thoughts near the end of the series, and instead acts as a passive wallflower when interacting with those he is displeased with, giving the impression he's more accepting than he really is with those he hasn't yet fit into his social schemata.

It's so true that the "people special interest" gets passed off as nonexistent due to its acceptability as opposed to other special interests, and that's because it can manifest exactly like how Kabru comes across to multiple characters throughout the manga (played off as a joke, often, but still poignant nevertheless): a social chameleon, accepting, unremarkable and unmemorable. A perfect mirror to whoever happens to be looking at him- they are seeing and hearing someone echoing their traits back to them in such an everyman way, that they don't really realize that this person is inwardly taking note of each and every one of their otherwise insignificant and overlooked moves as though it's the key to an ancient riddle. And people like to have attention; people like to feel understood and have others echo their sentiments and the things they like- that's why these kinds of neurodivergent people may be spared in many ways (at first glance) from the social ostracization many other autistic people would otherwise receive.

So yeah, Kabru cool. TL;DR, I pretty much agree. Pretty spiffy, OP.

I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.

That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!

Like, look at him!!!

It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.

I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.

Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.

When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.

He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.

And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.

I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.

They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.

#definitely somewhat rambling of an analysis- you'll simply have to forgive me #as someone who also has a 'people special interest' this aspect of Kabru's character really resonates with me #and I have a difficult time reading his character any other way #the way that he likens real life people to stories and the ability to be easily understood/marketed was such a specific trait #that I myself have often fallen into when helping myself understand how other people tick #and I was never expecting to see it so perfectly replicated in a fictional character so well #all hail ryoko kui! writing some of the most seemingly niche neurodivergent traits so poignantly!#(although I keep rediscovering that wonderfully- none of us are alone- and the traits we find odd are at LEAST shared by a dozen others hah #his face when 'because I am!! this is a lot of fun!!' is just. exactly the same as Laios' when he's enthusing about monsters #drives me nuts how obvious it is #great manga cap to include in your analysis- OP. It really sums it up there #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers

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