#we just get to feel like they are when we read from their perspective

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Manx Norton: going over the limit

Contents: 18+ mdni, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, blowjob, deepthroating, throat fucking, swallowing, marks the end of their pre-relationship story

“We need to talk,” you say. 

Geto looks up from his journal, slow and steady like he knew you would come here and at this time. He sets his pen down. His hair is tied up completely today and there are dark bags under his eyes that you can’t bear to look at, so you don’t. Instead, you settle into the seat, without being asked, and you cross your legs and your arms. 

You mean business. 

“Good afternoon, pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

Sighing, you ignore that fluttering in your stomach. There’s no point in getting carried away by his charm; it’s his instinct to be sweet, otherwise he wouldn’t have as many clients as he does. But you’re aware, faintly and right at the very back of your mind, that his words have a bite to them — they’re complimentary whilst also accusatory. 

“I need an explanation, Geto,” you state firmly. 

His left eye twitches. It’s not a flicker or a nervous tick, it’s a flinch. You have the power, just like your sister said, when you were throwing her shoes out of the window, and she was offering advice as a means to fight your murderous intent off. It didn’t work.

There’s always something shifting between you, something unstable, and it’s been difficult to manage — you’re new to relationships, so new to venturing outside your comfort zone that you’ve relied so much on him to guide you. But you’ve also had to step up and make decisions for yourself. 

Your friends weren’t very helpful; they insisted you quit or bring a new man to the studio to make him jealous, and as tempting as it is to be petty, you know they wouldn’t solve anything. It’ll just make you feel bad and icky. 

So, you’ve chosen the high road, providing him the opportunity to share his side, to explain why he let you down once again and why everything between you had been built on a lie.

Nodding, he opens a drawer and takes out a familiar sheet of paper. Then, in a conversational tone, he asks, “What do you see?”

“It’s my CV,” you answer. Truthfully, you have no clue what game he’s playing; there’s something in particular he’s looking for but all you see is the whites of the paper and the lines of ink. 

“Look at it from the perspective of an employer looking to fill a hole in their establishment,” is his reply. 

You’ve heard that tone often, every day, in fact. It’s the tone he uses on clients when he needs to go over payment plans, or on suppliers when he needs to negotiate a new contract. But he’s never used it on you. Distant and devoid of attachment, it makes you feel uneasy. 

Fiddling with a loose thread on your sweater, you furrow your brows as you read over the paper. Geto is leaning back on the chair, hands folded on his lap, the pinnacle of confidence. That used to be so attractive. Now, you’re just a little peeved off. You were supposed to be the confident one; you came here on your own volition, even prepared a speech you practised with your sister.

You should have known he’d sweep the rug from under you. 

Frustrated, you groan and smack the sheet. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to see! I have no time for this.”

Smiling reassuringly, Geto doesn’t bat an eye at your outburst and instead, begins a lecture, “What I saw was a CV lacking in relevant work experience. In fact, you had very little experience. Your most recent job was in high school, when you worked as a librarian’s assistant for a day. The other things on there were debate club and a certificate for being a neighbourhood ‘sweetheart’, and I’m not even sure what that means.”

“Oh.”

To your embarrassment, he laughs. A blush is growing on your face and suddenly you’re very aware of how some strands of hair are sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, how the sweater you’re wearing is a little scratchy and that maybe, just maybe, you’ve overreacted terribly.

Maybe you should have confronted him sooner. Perhaps just as soon as you overheard him tell Miguel that your sister owes him a favour for hiring you. However, in your defence, you were feeling a little hurt from having been left at the restaurant — you waited for an hour, watching people pass by and give you sympathetic looks as you sent text after text to a man too busy with a client to realise time passed by. 

A week has gone by since then, and you haven’t come to work at all, you dodged every text and call from Geto and ignored him when he showed up on campus and had the nerve to get upset that you’re hanging out with a classmate. Your sister tried to defend him, and herself, but you weren’t willing to hear her out. On many occasions, you’ve told her to butt out, to leave you to make mistakes and get hurt, because it’s your prerogative. 

She can’t protect you from everything and the more she tries, the harder you all learn that lesson. 

“Okay, fine. So, my CV sucks a little,” you huff, “but you should have never hired me under the pretence that I was good enough when the real reason was because my sister asked you. It’s unfair on me. I wanted to earn this job on my own and you two went behind my back to manipulate this whole situation!”

The man sighs and leans forward. You smell his cologne and it’s muddling your mind a little, so you lean back, away from him. He notices. “I understand you’re upset. And I’m sorry to have colluded with your meddling sister. But it really isn’t what you think, pretty girl.”

You hate how patient he sounds, like you’re the crazy one. And maybe you are. You don’t know anymore. In fact, you’re starting to think you know nothing at all. 

“Yes, it’s true she asked me to give you a job. But all I promised her was that I’ll give you a chance, like everyone else. And when you came for the interview, I thought a lot of things. One was that you are so different from your sister. Different from the people that tend to come through the door, from me. You’re much brighter, much warmer and lighter than everyone I’ve ever seen.”

There’s something in his eyes, a sincerity that makes you breathless. All the air has left the room and you’re leaning in without even realising it. Everything that he says is entrancing, he’s a pied piper playing a tune that fills your soul with a fire you can’t put out, and he’s leading you closer to him, away from everything you’ve ever known, away from safety and reason. 

You’re not afraid. 

“I had a look at your CV and thought, there’s no way I would hire you, not even if she begged or blackmailed me — I take great pride in my studio, I turned it from a little backroom space with flickering lights to what it is now. My clients trust me to provide quality service from beginning to end, and I will not let a woman, no matter how beautiful, get in the way of that.”

Geto reaches for your cheek, like he can’t help himself, and you let him. His hands are slightly calloused but otherwise smooth and soft. And that smile, the polite one he always wears, is gone. In its place is something that reflects how you feel, how you’ve both been feeling for a long time now. A frustration against the distance between you, the boundary that’s erected itself between employer and employee, boss and receptionist, and a man who’s seen it all versus a girl who knows so little. 

You aren’t meant to be. Everything about this relationship is wrong, it’s inadvisable, foolish, like Hades and Persephone, or Eros and Psyche. It’s a tragic love story doomed from the very beginning, the kind people talk about centuries later with a mix sense of awe and pity. You know all about it, have read so many variations of the same story with the same individuals who think they know everything, who believe they’re different, special and that the Fates will smile fondly on them. 

Except neither you nor Suguru are under the impression that you’re different, that this will turn out differently and that the cards you’ve been dealt are from a separate, fresh deck. You both know you’re playing a dangerous game. 

Neither of you care. 

“But then I talked to you. And you were so witty, so undeterred by my unrelenting questions, and so willing to learn as you go. You had the confidence of someone who’s worked a thousand jobs, who’s met a thousand people that, despite knowing better, I wanted to hire you on the spot.”

Carefully, with your eyes fluttering shut at the tentative touch of your skin, you breathe out, “Suguru, we shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

When your eyes open, you see his gorgeous, tortured eyes fall to your lips and you know what you want. 

Your lips meet his.

This kiss is so similar to the one you shared that night, but oh so new. It seems so long ago now, and when you feel his plush lips devour yours it feels like this is new to both of you and it urges you to push in further. His tongue touches yours and you don’t hesitate to intertwine it, to explore all that he’s laying out for you. 

Gasping for breath, you pull away with little success before he’s grasping the back of your neck and urging you over the desk, kneeing the papers there and hearing the pens and stapler fall to the floor with a dull clatter, you sit onto the desk and you hear his chair slam against the wall when he stands to press himself closer to you. He kisses you again. 

“Things work differently with me,” he says in between pecks to your lips. 

Whilst his mouth moves to your jaw, sucking at the skin by your ear, you giggle. “I know. My sister says you like control. Something about Christian Grey.”

Chuckling in your ear before nipping you there, he admits, “I’m not as insane as him. In truth, I don’t really know what I am, but I know it’s more intense than what most men ask for.”

“That’s okay, Suguru. We can work it out together, step by step.”

He kisses your pulse point. You moan. Goosebumps are rising along your arms; your back is arching to press as much of you closer to him. You’re barely capable of creating a single train of thought, you feel so lightheaded you don’t register how your legs are wrapping around his hips. 

“My smart girl,” Suguru muses against your skin. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hip, pulling him close until you can feel the bulge there push against your core. With a roll of your hips, the zipper of his jeans nudges your bundle of nerves. You gasp. And you seek out that pleasure again with slow, gradual grinds. 

Breathlessly, you say, “Suguru…”

He’s scraping his teeth against your pulse point, one hand kneading your thigh and the other holding himself up. Filling your senses, all you can think about is him and how there’s a growing pressure within that’s dying to be released. 

“Go on, pretty girl. Take what you need.” Tightening your legs around his hips, you grind harder, frustrated that there are layers between you. Your arch your back, chest rubbing against his. Like he knows what you want, his hand finds your breast, squeezing and groping. “No bra? Are you sure you came here to talk, angel?”

When his thumb brushes over your nipple, you cry out, body tightening as that coil inside snaps. You spasm, grinding hastily to draw out your pleasure. It’s much better than you any could have given yourself and you’re addicted. Hand flying to his hair, you thread it through, brushing out his hair tie until his silky hair cascades down.

He groans. 

In a blink of an eye, you’re being pulled and pushed down onto your knees. You grip his thighs, blinking fast as you desperately try to regain your bearings. 

“You’re asking for trouble, sweet thing. Can you handle it?” Suguru asks, a challenge glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. 

You bite your lip, thighs squeezing to subdue the regrowing aching there. With a sudden bravery, your hands make their way up, revelling in the marble like strength in his muscles before they find his zip. 

Hesitating, you feel something holding you back, an instinct within awakening. Awkwardly, you question, “May I?”

His smile widens, surprise flickering in his eyes, and then he’s threading his hands through your hair. It’s a rewarding pat, one full of warmth, and it’s empowering. 

“Such a good girl. You’re a perfect little angel, aren’t you?” He coos. “Of course you may, my pretty girl. Go on, go at your own pace.”

Nodding, you unzip his jeans, tugging it down with his boxers. And what springs out leaves your mouth watering. It’s huge and intimidating. It’s bad enough that he’s well-endowed, but nothing about him is typical. He’s different to the average man in every way. 

Starting with the metal piercing the underside of his dick, emerging through the head. 

Seeing the horrified look on your face, he chuckles, the hair soothing your head delving down to pinch your chin. Unperturbed by your reaction, likely expecting it, he explains, “I got it done a year ago, mostly as a dare. It took around nine weeks to heal and yes, it did hurt.”

“B-but I-I can’t,” you stammer and shake your head, adding, “there’s just n-no way.”

Suguru sighs, thumb grazing your cheek. “You don’t need to. I understand this is too much too soon, but I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You’re more than capable.”

You don’t want to disappoint him. And you want to prove you can do whatever you set your mind to. Recalling one of your sister’s drunken admissions, you know the trick is to pinch your thumb, so you don’t gag, to breathe through your nose and take a little at a time. 

“Okay, okay. I can do it.”

He gathers your hair and keeps them out of the way. Slowly, you wrap your hand around the base, gasping at the way your fingers barely touch. With no particular method in mind, you explore his length, thumb following a vein from bottom to top. He’s hot in your hand, almost burning, and the tip is shining with what you know to be pre-cum. 

It’s pearly white and you can’t wait to know what it tastes like; you lean in and scoop up the drop with your tongue. You both groan. 

Salty, you mull the taste over. It isn’t bad. And suddenly, you no longer feel scared. Your tongue fiddles with the bent metal barbell, surprisingly not minding the cold sensation against your hot tongue. 

“That’s it,” he groans, grip on your hair tightening. 

You widen your jaw, suckling the head, tongue pressing against the slit before it circles around, grinding the barbell back and forth. He groans louder, deep breaths vibrating through the room. 

When you push in further, you make the mistake of doing it too fast. You gag, eyes tearing up. 

“Slowly, pretty. Slowly. There’s no rush, okay?”

Coughing, you nod weakly, feeling embarrassed. Recovering your breath, you go back in, slower. Eventually, you work up a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down, taking more and more of him but never quite making it further than halfway. 

Both hands on your head, he soothes your tears away with his thumb before he advises, “Relax your throat, sweet thing. I’ll guide you, is that alright?”

You tap his thighs twice in a yes. 

And then he’s pushing in, more and more until he’s filling your throat, muscles stretching to take him in. Tearing up once more, you mentally swallow that panic rising, the claustrophobia within forcing your nails into his bare thighs. 

“You’re doing so well, angel. So good -ngh- for me, hmm?”

Suguru pulls back, the piercing scraping your tongue. And then he pushes back in. Again and again, he builds up to a rhythm, allowing you to get used to it, before he gives you more of him. 

This is so overwhelming, the feeling of his piercing bumping at the back of your throat, the ache in your jaw at the stretch, and the salty taste filling your senses. All you can see and feel and hear and taste is Suguru. You can’t get enough of him. 

So, when he bottoms out, your lips tickling his skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head just as his do. 

“I’m going to cum, pretty. Do you want to pull out?” He asks, pleasure written all over his face, the veins in his arm bulging at his barely constrained urge to fuck your throat freely. Knowing that he’s so in control, so concerned over you, when he could use you how he pleased, could take what he wants makes you so wet. 

You blink rapidly. 

“No? Are you sure you -ha- can take it? I won’t let you spit it out,” he warns. 

Sucking your cheeks in, you suction him closer. His cock head is rubbing the back of your throat, piercing burning, and with a shallow thrust, he’s cumming down your throat. 

Hot liquid fills your mouth. 

Suguru pulls out and you swallow the thick cream he leaves in your mouth. Your head slumps against his thigh, gasping for breath, heaving like you’ve just ridden a rollercoaster. 

Hands tucking themselves under your arms, he lifts you onto his lap just as he sits back on his chair, boxers pulled up before you even realise what position you’re in now. 

He rubs your back, muttering encouraging words about how perfect you were, how amazing you did, and how he knew you’d do well for him. 

“Open,” he orders, bottom lip pulled down by his thumb. He inspects your mouth and smiles at what he sees. “Good girl.”

And then he’s kissing you, tasting both yours and his essence. 

“No wonder Miguel gave me a funny look when I asked how many piercings you have,” you whisper against his lips, a high pulsing through your veins. 

Suguru chuckles. “He’s a good guy, did all my piercings. Eased all my concerns every time and I knew I wanted him in my studio.”

You nod. 

Your eyes are heavy and you’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, and pondering the change between you. You’ve accepted that you’re entering an unconventional relationship, that he’s going to introduce you to a world none of your friends had seen a glimpse of, but you won’t be navigating it by yourself. 

He’ll lead you just as he had when you first started working here. 

Softly, gently and with so much patience, you’ll be free to stumble as often as you need until you know who you are, what you want, and what you need to be.

“Get some sleep, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

Is the last thing you hear before you fall deeper into sleep in his arms.

[luckykiwiii101]

Heyhey

First of all,

Much love to you. I know you've helped a lot of people and on behalf of everyone you've helped..a big thank you!

I found something on reddit and it made everything just click in an instant. I'll put it at the end. (for some reason I can't link it) I am sending this to you in the hope that this will really help some people who feel lost.

Sidenote: I know it's basically what you and other blogs has been preaching about, but this is rephrased differently and may help some people understand and truly apply (and stop overconsuming lol)

I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME ALL THIS TIME TO FINALLY GET IT…  Tips & Techniques I’ve known about the Law of Assumption for almost four years, and now I finally get it. I always thought that when I closed my eyes to imagine something, it was my false self—let’s call her Ella—doing the imagining and experiencing the desire. But that’s not true. Ella only exists in the physical realm; she’s just another object in awareness. The one who’s really imagining is awareness itself—God, consciousness—the only thing that truly exists. Now I understand why imagination is immediate and real. It’s not Ella’s creation because she has no access to awareness. Ella’s role is confined to the 3D world. Her job is to make sense of life through logic, past experiences, and sensory input. So, when I imagine something, Ella can’t “see” it because imagination operates in the realm of awareness, not the physical. This is why thoughts like “Where is it?” or “It’s not working” arise—they’re just Ella panicking because she didn’t witness the creation happen. Ella is fixated on time and the physical world, so she doubts anything beyond her perception. But her panic doesn’t mean anything because she’s not the one imagining. She’s not capable of understanding or influencing what exists in awareness. This realization leaves no excuse not to trust my imagination. Imagination is beyond Ella’s capabilities, and its reality is not dependent on her understanding. This isn’t an invitation to hate or fight Ella—it’s about recognizing her limitations and letting her be. When I notice my mind being logical or thinking doubtful thoughts, I can let them pass because that’s just Ella doing her job. There’s no need to argue with or control her because it’s like bullying a blind person for not being able to see. She simply can’t perceive what’s happening in awareness, and that’s okay. Let her do her thing, knowing it doesn’t matter. The real work is already done in imagination, which is the realm of the infinite.

Someone answered:

Yup, Ella is herself a manifestation of consciousness and there is only consciousness. We think we are Ella, when we are consciousness, perceiving things through Ella's perspective. Good job. And that's exactly why manifestation is instant, the moment awareness becomes aware of something through your imagination, it happens. Because everything is awareness. You already are living that reality from the moment you imagined it. Ella will keep thinking. You need to not react to those thoughts or feelings of Ella, observe them, take care of Ella when she feels down but laugh a little at her naivety. Most people imagine and forget that they're not Ella but consciousness and become aware of something else by giving attention to Ella's limited perspective but guess what? Ella is a well behaved child, she will learn as soon as you discipline her. Her thoughts would slowly get on board too and so will the feelings. So let Ella be, don't react to her thoughts and emotions and become aware of something that's not what you want

People need to read this!!! Thank you so much for sharing!!

[stilljuststardust]

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"Bringing things back" A rant.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I feel like people are going to misunderstand this post so let me be clear: Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I just don't think we should be shutting down someone else's desires on a minor technicality.

For a long time a hot topic has been the belief that you cannot "bring back" anything from your DR. So when someone expresses the want to return with pictures, possessions, and keepsakes, they'd often be shut down and told it's not possible.

The general consensus is if you do it you'd just shift back to a reality that's identical except for the item in question, and therefore it doesn't count because it's not this exact reality.

To be clear: a reality exactly like your original all the way leading up to the shifting and coming back except now the desired item has appeared in your room.

In my opinion, why does it matter? Why does it have to be the exact reality you left? Why should someone give up on something they want over a technicality? From your perspective as a shifter it is an experience that is identical to what you wanted anyway.

Think of it this way:

If a friend told you they shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time would you tell them they're wrong because in-between shifts they scripted in a new pair of socks and therefore they haven't shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time because they're technically two separate realities? Or is the difference small enough that it doesn't really matter enough to correct your friend?

Personally, if someone lectured me over a pair of socks I scripted I'd be very annoyed.

I have seen multiple people express the desire to bring back photos, proof, etc and they're flat out shut down or scolded. I cannot believe that so many people act as if it is entirely out of bounds because of a small technicality.

We're shifters. Alternate timelines are supposed to be our WHOLE thing and you can't accept this because it's technically a different reality???

If you can believe that you can go to Hogwarts or be a superhero you can believe in a reality where you come back with a small keepsake.

You have limitless potential, you can become anything you want do not throw that away for ANYTHING.

Stop centering this reality so much. It is not the only one that matters, it is not the end all be all, it is not the determiner of what is and isn't possible. If you only wanted what this reality had to offer you wouldn't be here reading this in the first place.

STOP crushing your own dreams because of what @closemindedoldfart3 says is possible. You are not here to give up on the thing you want you are here because you refused to accept this reality as all you were meant for. So stop putting limits on yourself. Do what you want instead of what you think you're capable of.

If you want stuff from your DR in your CR there is literally no reason not to get it.

"Can I-" yes.

"is it possible to-" yes.

"I want to-" yes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[drdemonprince]

I think think about your piece How to Go Places Alone And Not Feel Like A Freak Looser (or something to that affect) quite often.

While it is uncomfortable, tiring, nerve wracking, to feel like or be the odd one out, I am at least used to the feeling. It takes nerve but (especially as a kid/teen) have always gone to things alone and, once I get over myself, enjoy not caring what anyone thinks about my presence.

As an (ever transsexualizing >:) adult, I am getting back into doing & dressing however I want in public (embarrassing yourself is inevitable, might as well enjoy life!). This is a funner, freer, outlook, but I hoped being more myself would help me find my people.

I’m used to the awful feeling of being an alien freak looser (real or imagined) so I can hype myself up to be in my own world when I’m out. But I wonder if doing this, and choosing events based on interest instead of demographics or friendship, reinforces my felling of disconnect with people. It’s easier to accept, and dress like, I’ll always stick out (be alone) than it is to imagine mimicking those around me.

I went to an explicitly cruisey new years night and instead of studying the crowd intensely trying to fit in, wore my shiny platforms, smiled at people, and danced just for the fun of it. Feeling good about myself and enjoying my experience requires an ‘eh fuck ‘em’ attitude. I can enjoy being in public seeing all my fellow earthlings but it does not feel social. And I realize, my time there felt anything but sexy. I wasn’t about to walz into the darkroom (let’s walk before we run), but I hate that I couldn’t feel comfortable in this place I’ve always wanted to be.

I return to the same questions everywhere I go: I can exist, but how am I supposed to learn the codes of a space when I can’t study (ruminate) from afar?

How could I ever be social when (even joyous and embodied) I can’t get out of my own head?

How do you know when it’s time to listen to your gut and when to play into a social game?

I understand what you mean about the duality between doing your own thing in your own little alien bubble and actively placing effort into connecting with the people around you (which often feels like it requires masking).

But, from my perspective, both of those are strategies for dealing with social overwhelm -- one is more dissociative, and the other's more compensatory. Both of them reflect a discomfort with the people in the space. And they're both perfectly reasonable ways to deal with such feelings! But the way to move forward, at least in my experience, is to continue attending events until you attain enough familiarity with them that you actually start feeling more comfortable.

You said you didn't feel sexy at this cruisy party, and certainly weren't ready to venture into the dark room. That's fine! You can work your way up in whatever order of activities is least intimidating to most intimidating to you.

The first few times that I go to a club, I need anywhere from a few minutes to an hour to get warmed up enough to really dance on the floor and take up a ton of space and make weird gestures. I spend a lot of time lurking in the corner or reading a book at the bar at first. After I've been there a number of times, I know the deal of the space better, recognize a few people, maybe have developed a rapport with the door guy or a regular, and it gets easier to branch out and feel more at ease in my skin. People intuit this and approach me more often when I'm feeling more comfortable, and my reactions have fewer exit ramps built into them (one of my protective instincts is to throw out a lot of conversation-enders that make people feel rejected, lmaoo good one me).

The same general principles I've described here can apply to any new social challenge, including a bar with a backroom where people are fucking. Show up again. Do your thing. Maybe find a spot to post up and observe, since you mentioned an interest in doing that. Bring a book or some knitting if you want, and wear whatever outfit helps you feel comfortable and good with yourself. The first few times you do all this, people may get strong "I'm Doing My Own Thing Leave Me Alone" vibes from you, as they often do from Autistics, and that's fine. You're still learning and acclimating from being there. After a couple of tries, head into that back room. It's not as exciting as you think it's gonna be. You might get to watch some fucking or you might just see a bunch of guys pacing around who are just as awkward as you feel that you are. But then you'll know what it's like. And then you just keep showing up, and observing and participating in small ways (watching is participation in a sex club!), and you'll get steadily more involved in the space and connected to the people each time that you do.

I've been going to pet patrol nights for a long time and I've only just now gotten to the point where I can chat up random people and get into hookups relatively easily, instead of just standing around mutely hoping someone will approach me. Bringing friends has helped a ton to relax me and make me seem more approachable to others, too, so you could try that!

for anyone wondering here's the full piece

[mythicmanuscripts]

Aemond and Aegon’s (separately) top three kinks and top three favorite forms of aftercare?

Oooo very good question Anon!! I'm gonna write a little bit about each of my thoughts on this and then leave the rest up to you lads

NSFW sub!aemond and aegon below the cut!

AEMOND - TOP THREE KINKS:

Service. Obviously. This should come as no surprise to anyone. He doesn't just want you to order him in the bedroom, he wants you to tell hm how to help you and be good for you. He has to feel useful.

Hair pulling. I know this one is kinda basic but there's no way he doesn't enjoy this. Usually he's not too hectically into pain play but there's nothing that gets his knees to buckle faster than when you grab the hair at the nape of his neck, just turns him to jelly.

Ownership. Again a no brainer here. He wants to feel like he's yours and yours alone. No one else can touch him, no one else can even look at him. Let him wear a collar and tug at it while calling him yours and he may genuinely just cum on the spot.

AEGON - TOP THREE KINKS:

Dumbnification. Nothing he loves more than when you gather him into your arms and tell him that he obviously can't look after himself, you must do it for him. He can't think, and he doesnt need to think, not when you call him pretty and kiss his head and tell him he doesnt need to worry about a single thing.

Overstimulation. This shouldnt be much of a surprise either. He absolutely loves when you push him to the brink, when you wring as many orgasms out of him as you can until he's just. a blubbering mess. Also he'll become a nuisance to the entire keep if he goes to long without it.

Competence kink. I actually can't believe I've never thought about this him before. Aegon knows he's not the smartest and he's been looked down upon for that his entire life. He absolutely hates being made to feel stupid, but at the same time nothing turns him him on quite like knowing his do is an expert in this and he'll be very well look after. He just gets so flustered and turned on when he gets to watch you in your element, when he can see first hand how good you are at what you do.

AEMOND - TOP THREE AFTERCARE FORMS:

Debrief - The first and most important to Aemond actually only happens once the scene is over and you're both pretty well recovered. He has to have a debrief afterwards, to hear what you thought and how you felt and to share his own perspective. if he skips this part of the aftercare then he'll feel off and unsettled for the rest of the day.

Reading - as we know, Aemond has studied history extensively. It's because of this love for history that you like to read some of his favourite history books to him while he recovers. You always ensure to choose a book you know he's already read, because he doesn't want surprises or to have to pay attention. He wants to just float as he listens to your voice.

If he doesn't want the reading, then quiet time if the next option you always go with. Aemond absolutely adores being able to let go and enter subspace with you, but when he comes up back up he can often be extremely sensitive to light and sound until he's recovered more. So often aftercare is just letting him slowly come down while he snuggles against your chest.

AEGON:

Cuddles. I know cuddles is implied in pretty much all aftercare thoughts but for this little grade A clinger it deserves its own category. For him it's not just that eh wants cuddles, it's that he won the able to recover otherwise.

Following on from cuddles, he also has to be in the same room as you for aftercare. If you forgot to bring snacks before the scene starts then you have to call a servant and ask for them to be brought out because if you even looked like you might be leaving he'd just burst into tears, completely inconsolable.

Lastly, he just loves when you talk to him while he slowly recovers and comes back. Aegin tends to become much quieter when he's in subspace and this can carry through to his aftercare. Unlike Aemond, reading him a story is never a good idea because the poor little thing can barely concentrate on it. But when you just keep a near constant monologue of your day? Incredible. He lets you voice wash over him without a care in the world.

[eternalera]

so people have been wondering why caitvi is a lot less popular now within the arcane fandom than ships with timebomb or jayvik and as someone who ships them let me explain mostly why this is happening, of course mostly from the writing perspective as there is likely some misogyny included in said reason but thats just what ive heard and not seen (this does NOT mean it isnt happening though). and im also not including it because im just addressing why even some caitvi shippers (that i know) ended up not caring for it in s2

(click read more because this... this is a long one)

first off im stating that this is just a combination of what ive seen from other people and my own opinions. in your opinion these points can be completely dogshit and thats okay because they're opinions. not fact. with that being said lets get started.

1. Tension, s2 act 2 kills almost ALL of the tension that the first act sets up. in the first act you have them getting together, you have them finally kissing and breaking the previous tension in s1 then to keep people interested in the ship in the same episode they have them breakup. and this works people talked a SHIT ton about this and were going feral over it, looking at the trailer and seeing 'oh look at emo vi and her dictator gf!!' and even the 'there are two ways to handle a gay break up' memes. it was all over.

people were feral, waiting for the next act to see them interact and have beef with each other (before inevitably getting back together because we all knew it would happen). but in act two we dont really get that. we get the aftermath from vi's perspective and kinda cait's???? but then we have their interaction and people are hyped at this moment. because this is the moment. the one that they were all waiting for and there's a small scuffle before... it stops.

vi calls cait cupcake and... all if forgiven rather quickly in that scene (obviously in act 3 they have some more drama but we'll talk about it later). they have their moment and its cute. you have cait folding after being called cupcake, its cute. but thats just the thing. its nothing else but cute. there are still stakes dont get me wrong but that moment is just... so bad for cait's character. she has the whole dictator arc and it just takes vi calling her a pet name for her to switch sides.

and yes its adorable, its everything you want in a ship. but it doesnt really make sense when you take in account everything that they've been building up for cait. her dictator arc, her gassing zaun, training with ambessa, losing her mother, breaking up with vi. it all seems undermined by vi calling her a petname and all of the sudden the tension is taken out of their relationship.

they get back together (sorta) and help plan to take down ambessa and that's all it took. its like having a really evil villain who did a ton of bad things but the good guy gives them a pep talk (vi doesnt even do that) and all of the sudden their mind changes completely

it's not realistic, it doesn't make sense.

then you have act 3 and where vi actually confronts cait about ambessa and her going along with her actions and they have a small argument thats kinda just resolved by cait saying that she knows what she did wrong and that she tried helping jinx not get arrested too and then BAM there's a shift in the argument and then we're back to jinx and it never gets brought up again (correct me if im wrong)

their relationship follows this, happy moment, create something that causes tension, build up tension, refuse to follow through.

its like its tightening a string on an instrument to get a tone but before you pluck it the string loosens and all of the sudden you get this really really dull and kinda disgusting sound that doesn't leave you feeling 100% satisfied in the end

or if you're an artist almost filling in a circle completely but at the last second you color just a little bit outside the lines. it's not satisfying.

2. The sex scene, this is just mostly stuff ive seen and while i dont agree with all of it i must say that they do have their valid points of thinking that the scene was a little misplaced. most of the complaints of seen of this is that vi was out of character and that she should've been looking for jinx since it was implied that jinx was going to kill herself to 'fix' everything. and while i dont think vi couldve really known this i do see where theyre coming from as vi is inherently protective of jinx and her actions and even if there was the slightest chance that she might harm herself vi would do anything in her power to stop it and... she just doesnt.

when cait unlocks the cell she doesnt rush out to jinx, she just wallows a bit longer and mopes (WHICH IS FUCKING VALID BTW). then you have cait talk to her and... SEX. yeah there is other stuff between that but some people felt that they shouldve had them have their talk and then had vi rush out to help jinx.

a lot of people also felt that cait was taking advantage of vi in this moment (i do NOT agree with this at all) to an emotional extent and saying how the scene didnt feel right because vi wasnt in her best state (i agree slightly with this) and that the sex in the cell wasnt really reclaiming anything from all those years of being in the cell like the directors originally intended it to

then you have people saying that it was misplaced (and i kinda agree) and that it just felt so sudden for the both of them especially considering everything with them and then there's the next reason...

3. Caitlyn herself, there was so much drama about her character. in the first arc you have people defending her actions and who were ready to die for her and people getting mad at her, saying she was the worst and that she didnt deserve vi after what she did to her. this also comes with her character being set up to do a lot of evil shit in the future. there was drama (when is there not) and that meant the majority of people loved or hated her with a slim minority not really caring her for at all.

she was implied to have gassed zaun (actually its not even really implied as she, vi, and the gang do it that one episode in a montage and they actually show them doing it for like... a scene or two) and overall just have been a really shitty person to zaunites. she slept with maddie (which people HATED) and they kept leading up to her being the big bad the person who vi would have to convince but once again... they meet and all tension is ruined.

cait's character is one of the best and worst things in arcane. they did such a good job setting her up only to fumble last second and yeah... thats enough to effectively kill a ship as one half of it is the other character (assuming is a monogamy ofc) and 50% is not passing. people arent going to be as committed to a ship when they hate the other character in it and thats just a fact

4. Time, it just... didnt work. timebomb got a full episode (practically) devoted to it and jayvik was kinda in there as crumbs. not to mention that their entire arc is sprinkled a lot more effectively and more long lasting throughout s2 of arcane. with timebomb THEY GOT A WHOLE EPISODE

people already like both characters of ekko and jinx so yeah theyre going to go feral over what coudlve been. the dance, everything and it effectively builds up tension with showing us how good everything couldve been and fully releases it in a satissfying way with ekko's leave. with jayvik you have him going insane and realizing that he has to kill viktor in order to stop what happens in the future (GIVING US THE ANSWER TO WHAT HAPPENED IN EP6 and this also gives us more tension in the relationship when viktor comes back).

you have ekko stopping jinx from ending her life (another reason people didnt like the sex scene cause jinx was actively trynna off herself during it) and telling her to give living another chance because you can build something more you can start again. and you also have the implications of them drawing on themselves in the artbook and just in general during the show. you have the hot air balloon contraption that they create. its everything

jayce then meets with viktor in the room and there is tension so much tension and it all goes to them. then you have jayce confronting and giving himself to viktor on the battlefield and its so well written. now, personally i have my issues with how jayce talk not jutsu-ed viktor into stop being evil or whatever (personally that scene was like a 6/10 for me). "BUT WAIT WHAT ABOUT YOUR COMPLAINTS WITH VI AND CAIT AND CAIT FOLDING AFTER BEING CALLED CUPCAKE?!?!" they would be lessened if we were shown them talking and discussing what happened, what went wrong. with them we dont do that, we dont get the release of them regretting what they've done, their actions. that declaration of love.

with jayvik we do (love can be interpreted as romantic or platonic) and they probably spend more time in that scene talking about each other and how much they care for one another than caitvi do in the entirety of s2 when it comes to discussing their relationship.

basically what happened was that the writers confirmed 'yes theyre canon now, nothing else is going to happen to them. okay time to focus on other things' and caitvi got sidelined SO HARD in the end that come people stopped caring for them entirely and put more attention to ships and dynamics that were getting more attention and love from the show.

basically thats all i could think of and its 1am so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes lol. tell me if i got anything wrong, if you agree or just your general opinions on the matter because this is what i could find/gather about them. have a good day/night everybody :)

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 63 Cool Posting

Hi, kind void. Today's chapter is straight out of an action movie! It's light on lore but chock-full of cool stuff (and some names at long last) so let's get into it.

Rough TL of editor's notes (don't take as competent):

Colour page: 音を割ぎ, 匂を割ぎ, 獲物の元へ忍び寄れ- [] Cut all sound, cut all smell, then sneak up on your prey- This one's fun because "cut" as in "eliminate" works in both EN and JP! Last page: 巻墨とチ-ムで!! [(Nakama) to chiimu de-!!] Teaming up with allies (the Masumi)!! The kanji for Masumi (巻墨) have Ruby over them spelling out nakama (なかま), the word that usually means ally/partner.

Really cool perspective shot on the colour page, by the by!

Code Name: Uh...?

Please live.

So, we finally got names for our Masumi Ninja Maids. But they're kind of, um. I feel bad for these guys if they aren't code names or nicknames ha ha.

"Ms. Masumi" is Sumi (炭): charcoal/coal "Minimura" is Rou (郎): son/young man (archaic) "Masumi Bro" is Moku (杢): woodworker/figure pattern in wood

Normally these kanji are combined with others to make a proper given name; they basically don't exist by themselves as a way to refer to someone outside of a family/surname from what I can find. I think I feel the worst for Sumi since her full name sounds like a Lalafell's from FFXIV: Masumi Sumi (巻墨 炭) lol. But yeah. Names at last, even if they're kinda headscratchers! Just like the nature of this ink sorcery.

Random bullshit, go!: the ability

At this point I'm definitely operating under the assumption that Sumi's sorcery is basically just Rule of Cool: Ink Version. I guess she can manifest anything she wants or needs if she has the time to write whatever inscriptions are necessary. I've never read Naruto in full (fake weeaboo, cancel me on TWT) but apparently this is similar to how Fuinjutsu works in that series? In the sense that a user can write a "seal" and concentrate their power into it to do something crazy cool that may or may not actually have anything to do with sealing something.

In the Masumi's case, I think their surname literally meaning "rolled up ink [scroll]" is a dead giveaway that this is basically how the technique functions- the user channels their sorcery into a written inscription for a desired effect. So they're basically OP if given infinite time to train and prepare for a fight, and will have all kinds of ass-pull types of clutch factor if they stick around.

...Speaking of.

I have a kind of ominous feeling about these guys beyond the jokes about how elite squads have a high mortality rate in this series. I don't want to be one of those doomsday prophecy guys, but this chapter ends pretty optimistically in a way that makes me think we'll be saying goodbye to them at some point. We have some significant emotional investment in them by now but they're not critical enough to keep around despite the deep ties to Samura. I don't think it'll be next chapter or anything, but... they could be another Elite Squad Statistic sooner or later is all I'm saying. I want them to live though. Rou's kind of growing on me, Moku's got amazing himbo energy in a series critically lacking in hunks, and Sumi can pat my head and call me a "good boy" any day.

(Warning, pure speculation ahead.) Also, referencing chapter 53 where it seems like Chihiro's hellbent on taking his own path but is trying to rely on others- if he loses the Masumi after seeing Uruha die and Hakuri be gravely injured, then he's probably going to spiral down even further and try to go it alone for real like Samura is. That could be when Hakuri comes back in for the save where Uruha tried and failed with his mentor. But I'm just spitballing with this so I'll leave it be until we get a better idea of where the Chihiro/Samura and Hakuri/Uruha parallels are going. Don't want to get too attached to a development that may well not even happen.

For now I will pray they live and keep supporting Chihiro in all kinds of silly and cool ways. Buck the trend and don't become an Elite Squad statistic!

"Quality" Analysis Section

Just in case you forgot how fucking exhausted Chihiro must be.

The author lampshading his own breakneck pace isn't just a cheeky jab at the people fretting about it- I see this as a deliberate callout that Chihiro is going to run himself into the ground and truly break. Referencing chapter 53- Chihiro thinks he's an irredeemable monster and is rushing down the path to hell. So maybe the rushed pacing of chapter 60 was intentional after all? As in Chihiro won't give himself a break so we don't get one either. I don't want to assume too much but I'll keep that in mind as we get closer to his breaking point. How he collapses and why will be very important. As will be the people who help him recover.

Chihiro looks fucking tired man. The new scars and extra thick sketchy lines under his eyes even when he's being a badass give me the impression that he's pushing himself too hard. The only other character consistently having the tired look right now is Rou and I'm willing to bet that it's done to give him a slightly more mature look to remind us of his true age- he's had them ever since he was woken up from his nap in ch. 55. I swear to God, if Hokazono-sensei has Chihiro buckle and shatter because he won't let himself rest, I will forgive absolutely everything about Chapter 60 onward and never doubt him again. Well, almost everything.

I'm not just saying this to cope. I went back through the whole story to check Chihiro's expressions up to chapter 62 and there's a pretty clear trend. Apologies for the huge cluttered images, probably should have made these on my smaller monitor.

Chapter appearances: 18 Examples: 18

Chapter appearances: 25 Examples: 22 (not present in ch. 35) I will mention Hakuri in every post one way or another.

Chapter appearances: 14 Examples: 41 (not present in chs. 55 & 56)

Basically: Chihiro is the most exhausted and emotional he's ever been in the shortest amount of chapters (even accounting for the lines under most character's eyes getting thicker starting around chapter 47). So yeah, he's tired as fuck and absolutely should not have been so gung-ho to do a rescue mission.

The real give-away is the end of Chapter 60:

Zoom in on the second to last page: he tired and burdened AF bro

Squad roll out on the last page: cool, calm, collected

Extreme zoom-in shots to character's eyes are how a mangaka draws attention to how the character's truly feeling without having them say anything out loud. Doing this to show Chihiro is exhausted before zooming back out to have him looking like his usual self reads as him burying that tiredness to get things done with the others. He is focused and ready to do whatever's necessary to protect Iori- but Rou knows how he's really feeling and called him out which is why we suddenly see all those panels of Chihiro looking as wiped out as he feels this chapter.

Like so.

Chihiro's exhausted but won't give himself a break. And this chapter's making a point of that, because now Chihiro's at the point where even shots of him being a badass have that tired look. He's going to break from pushing himself this hard sooner rather than later or I'm sixty toads in a wooden onesie. (Surely I won't regret making this assertion...)

I haven't forgotten about this flag from Chapter 1.

I feel like a colossal idiot for needing this to be pointed out to me, but I'll admit I'm dumb. At least I took the closer look I should have been doing all along for this post- better late than never and all that.

Rokuhira Chihiro: Forever Badass

Always the coolest guy in a 3781.2km radius

Yeah, Chihiro absolutely reminded us why he's the MC this chapter despite not having as much screen time as Sumi and the Hishaku. He's just that awesome- Hokazono absolutely nails every entrance this guy makes.

Shame the general public doesn't seem to agree.

Not so above it all (but we knew this)

Nice to see that people being frightened and thinking he's a mass-murderer still gets to Chihiro a little. It won't stop him from pursuing his goals, but he is absolutely not above caring about how he's perceived. Maybe fighting against the guy who broke through the window and threatened to kill defenseless students will help some people change their minds?

Iori's definitely going to have to take some time to reconcile her dismal first impression of Chihiro with who he actually is. I'm actually looking forward to how that plays out- Chihiro probably won't go out of his way to convince her he's a nice guy, so we'll get to see her evaluation of him evolve as they spend time together. Hopefully. Maybe. I can only rarely guess what's going to happen next in this manga and I'm not at all confident we'll get significant time devoted to developing the relationship between Chihiro and Iori. I'd like to see it though. Hakuri is the best character from anything ever, but Chihiro would benefit from getting to know more people his age- especially ones that have been able to lead a relatively normal life. She can bring a fresh viewpoint to this series that's so far mostly been limited to traumatized action hero types.

Kuguri Impressions

This guy is a piece of work. Definitely obsessed with "slicing" to an unhealthy degree.

Talking through fighting, that time-old tradition.

Taking a page from his... inspiration? Mentor? Whatever? Sojo, he wants to "talk" with Chihiro in a high-octane way. Sure let's go, love the fights and the spread of them engaging each other this chapter was epic! There's an interesting line from him that caught my attention, though.

The vibes are "these guys should have just let me kill them, now look at this mess."

We're reminded on the same page that "The Hishaku have no qualms about involving innocent bystanders." And this seems to hold true for Kuguri- he killed an unarmed teacher in cold blood, sliced up a bus full of people, was ready to kill students, so on and so forth. He's not a good guy. But talking about how more lives need to be sacrificed now snagged at me- it's a total 180 from Hiruhiko's joyful bloodbath approach.

He strikes me as the type of person who takes the shortest path to everything in life and killing is just a tool he can use to achieve that. He might actually be closer to Chihiro in that he doesn't really enjoy committing murder but views it as necessary. Just in way too many circumstances and with way less morality involved than our protagonist- again, Kuguri is absolutely 100% a bad guy who will deserve whatever death is coming to him. You don't have to murder your way through unarmed civilians to reach a defenseless target.

I'm a lot more interested in seeing more of him now to find out what he's really like and what makes him tick. I especially want to see him clash and contrast with Chihiro. Our poor protagonist is getting challenged on way more fronts than ever before, and in way finer detail, but I know he's up to it. At least for now...

Miscellaneous Thoughts

"This is a surprise tool that will help us later."

I will absolutely accuse people who ask "is Chihiro using Enten?!" or "where did Chihiro get the sword from?!" of speedreading. Yes, it's very silly that the motorcycle that appeared from a magic ink scroll had a katana built in to it. We're definitely not meant to think hard about the how and why of that- it's there because Chihiro needs a proper weapon to fight with while he can't use his magic fish nuke. Hopefully it's existence isn't on a timer or something.

It will be interesting to see how he fares with a regular weapon against a guy who can cut a bus in half with his own mundane katana. How good are Chihiro's basics, really? How much did he manage to pick up from Samura and others before he started to train with Enten's powers? We're probably about to find out!

Please don't let this raise a flag for the Masumi.

These front shots always look so damn cool. Chihiro is the kind of protagonist those edgy wish-fulfillment series wish they had. If Hakuri didn't exist he'd definitely be my favourite character, no contest. Pretty rare for a shounen series honestly! He might even win an official popularity poll if/when Kagurabachi gets one! Usually that honour goes to the deuteragonist or characters with wide appeal like Gojo while the MC is in second or third. Maybe. I want to collect the data on this but I've already got a ton of other half-finished things I'm working on, so maybe that'll wait until a poll is actually announced.

A lot of shounen MCs are good guys with a lot to learn and Chihiro's not much different in that regard. But all the little details about Chihiro add up to make him the first WSJ protagonist I've been sincerely attached to in eons. ...I'll get around to finishing that "why Chihiro is a uniquely compelling protagonist" write-up one of these days.

Hooray for magic skirts that ignore physics

Not much to say here other than I'm really happy for the yuri fans. They finally have "shippable" girls interacting with each other in Kagurabachi. And an innocent-yet-brave girl is clinging to a cool, deadly beauty for safety no less- that's really potent stuff. Let the lilies bloom!

Okay, dear void. We have one more break for brain rot before resuming a normal weekly schedule on the 19th. Great time to re-read the series for the five millionth time, wouldn't you agree? Yes? Wonderful! See you in two weeks or so if I don't finish up something that's gathering dust in the drafts before then. Take care of yourself and may 2025 be your best year yet.

[galindasglinda]

ꕤ*. LOATHING OR LOVING? (gelphie ۶ৎ)

did glinda hate elphaba, or did she love her? she was always torn between the two.

something was different about her. no, not the green skin, not the powers.. something else.

glinda was always intrigued by the difference between elphaba and the others at shiz.

elphaba didn’t bow down and kiss glinda’s feet at her every move, unlike the others.

she kinda liked that.

so one evening, after a long day, glinda made it back to her dorm. elphaba already there, in her sleeping attire, in bed, with a book in hand.

“oh, hey” glinda shyly smiled as she closed the door.

“hello, galinda” elphaba spoke, without looking away from her book. glinda studied elphaba before doing or saying anything else.

glinda tried to read her, but it was hard. she sighed.

“elphaba, can i ask you something?

she hums, eyes still glued to the book. this frustrates glinda. she walks over to elphaba’s bed and gently takes the book out of elphaba’s hand. glinda’s face slightly heats as her fingertip softly brushes against elphaba’s.

“i ask that you be fully attentive to me for once” glinda sits the book down, before sitting on the bed. “sorry, what is your question?”

glinda looks down at her hands, before reverting back to elphaba’s gaze. “i want to know your perspective of me.”

elphaba made a face out of confusion and curiosity. “why?”

“i just.. need to know.” glinda was becoming desperate, “you’re one of the first to not follow me around like my own shadow. it’s different.. so please, tell me why.”

elphaba could sense the frustration and desperation in glinda’s body language and tone. elphaba closed her eyes, a deep breath leaving her body before speaking.

“my perspective? i don’t know. a pretty blonde, who gets everything handed to her.” elphaba mumbled, her gaze now going to her lap. glinda’s heart fluttered a little, elphaba thought she was pretty.

“you think i’m pretty?” glinda smiles.

elphaba couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, “yes galinda, i think you’re pretty.” glinda scoots closer, elphaba’s eyebrows furrowed.

she’s never had someone get this close to her. better yet, she never felt good intentions radiating off someone’s body before. elphaba felt her body relax slightly.

“i think you’re quite gorgeous yourself, elphie.”

elphie.

“can i call you elphie?” glinda’s voice sounded more soothing.

“it’s kinda of perky.. but i guess” elphaba stated. glinda chuckled, “i know, i know.”

the room was silent for a while, “you know, when you first arrived at shiz, i was kind of jealous.” glinda admitted.

“jealous of me? what for?”

“out of all the things i had, i still wanted one thing. i wanted to be magical.” she states, “i wanted madame morrible’s approval.”

“then you came along, and you had exactly what i wanted. magic and her attention.”

“but then.. my jealousy turned into something else.”

“what?”

“i don’t know. it’s like i wanted your attention, so i did things that i know would get it.”

“why do you want my attention galinda?”

“i don’t know!!!” galinda become flustered, all of these feelings were new to her. usually she would be the one making someone nervous. now it’s the complete opposite.

“i never disliked you elphaba, i’m actually quite fond of you.” she admits.

“really?” elphaba asks.

glinda takes the chance and grabs both of elphaba’s hand. “yes, really. and i was hoping if we could be friends?” glinda scanned elphaba’s face for approval, desperate for an answer.

glinda’s staring came to a stop when she felt her hands being squeezed. she looked down and elphaba’s grip on her hands got tighter.

glinda smiled at the jester, she ran her thumb across elphaba’s hand before looking back up to meet her eyes.

“yes, galinda. we’re friends.”

aw, my first gelphie fic!

kinda bad, but this my

first time writing in a while,

i need to warm back up!

more coming soon!!

enjoy 🎀

[slightly-sigilant]

I feel like the thing that the Fallen London fandom knows me for is Correspondence, and indeed, I love the squiggles. But in truth, the part of the setting I think about most is Parabola, the world behind the mirror. The land of the Is-Not; the realm of dreams.

I've had some flavor of chronic fatigue throughout my life. Without getting into the gruesome details, no doctor in a decade-plus of searching has been able to diagnose or treat it. At this point, I've more or less moved on to trying to accept it, work around it, and not linger on the looming dread I feel whenever I think about being disabled in This Society We Live In. I'm fortunate enough to have a remote job, one that mostly tolerates me working weird hours and sneaking off now and then to nap, so my days are something like a patchwork. Irregular swaths are cut from my life for sleep, and for lying in bed trying to muster up my energy, with the things that I need to do packed into the periods in-between, the precious moments where I feel well and truly awake.

At some point, I decided that if sleep was going to take up over half my life, I might as well make the most of it. I wouldn't call myself an expert on dreams - I've read Some websites on lucid dreaming, and One (1) book. But I do have vivid dreams on the regular, and I try to engage with them with my own particular means.

(It looks something like this: I let myself sink, and then, at a place between waking and dreaming, I float. I focus on my childhood room - a place my dreams have taken me, again and again, as of late. I brush my fingers along the walls, asking them to keep the terrors out, rather than trap me within. I speak to the ghosts that haunt this memory-place, inviting them to truce, to rest. I remember my present - of being an adult in a household that respects and cares for me - and breathe it into my past. With luck, the next time my dreams take me here, this place will be a sanctuary, not a prison.

Or like this: holding still, careful and quiet, in the moments before a dream dissipates. This one had been suffused with a powerful, yet curious melancholy. I hold onto the feeling as best as I can, studying the curves of its sorrow, the angles of its longing. I realize that it is a feeling I have taught myself to no longer feel in the waking world. The realization cuts, like a scalpel.)

It started as a necessity. A tendency to have nightmares doesn't mesh well with a life riddled with opportunities to have them. But it also became a quiet passion. Small wonder that it would be Parabola that would be my hook into Fallen London's world. While I only became an active player a year ago, I spent much longer than that reading the wiki. I remember combing through Wikidot for every scrap that I could on the mirror-realm and its inhabitants. I remember being elated to find out that you could become a Silverer (or "Glassman," as they were once called) and that you could set up a Parabolan Base-Camp of your very own. When I made Lukas, my current main, I planned for him to become a Silverer. His character arc took him down the path of a Correspondent, but Rafael would take up the cosmogone spectacles instead.

My readings are not the only valid ones, of course. But it never appealed to me to treat Parabola as just a wacky otherworld, and the Fingerkings as just sinister. My personal experience has been that dream logic is logic, something to work with rather than against, shown respect rather than bullied into submission. It is reciprocal - in order to shape my dreams, I allow myself to be shaped in return. They yearn and I yearn; I feed them and they feed me; we move together in ever-shifting dance.

This is the kind of perspective I try to weave into my interpretations of Parabola. I would like them to live somewhere other than just in my head, and I've thought at some point of creating some kind of compendium of My Personal Parabolan Headcanons. But that format doesn't really sit right with me - it's a vibe, not a set of rules. I think I would like to write some kind of playable fan-Exceptional Story, but it's really hard to beat the feeling that It Has To Be Perfect. The perils of writing about something that you're passionate about, I guess.

For now, I daydream and I doodle and sometimes I inflict my thoughts on my friends via Discord. But someday! Someday.

[mandalhoerian]

I’m really impressed by your analysis of Raf’s new card! Everything you stated makes so much sense and gave me a fresh perspective on his insecurities.

However, I recently came across a discussion on Reddit where someone pointed out that Rafayel's actions could be seen as problematic. They argued there’s a lack of consent from MC, suggesting that MC wasn’t fully into it. They mentioned the use of the dagger as a symbol of the MC's discomfort or pain, which they attributed to her being tense or unrelaxed. They also highlighted how MC seemed to try distracting him, like asking him to answer the phone or pointing out the snow.

Personally, I don’t agree with their interpretation, but I’m struggling to articulate why. Do you have any thoughts or interpretations that might help address this perspective?

Okay, um. First and foremost, thank you for sharing your thoughts and for trusting me with this question, but god did I literally react like this.

But, before we get into the analysis of the deed itself, let’s start first by grounding this discussion in the context of the product that is Love and Deepspace.

This is a 12+ rated action-adventure sci-fi otome game, which sets a clear expectation for the tone and themes presented. While otome games can and often do explore nuanced and occasionally darker themes (and this doesn't mean they have subpar writing just because they're meant for a wider audience), they are typically balanced with the age-appropriate rating in mind. In a banner like this that is intentionally designed to revolve around romantic sex, it’s essential to recognize that the developers aren’t aiming to create content that veers into dead dove or non-consensual territory. To suggest that the writers or developers would include something as serious as this, especially under the guise of a romance storyline, is not only a misinterpretation but also an extreme departure from the genre’s conventions and the intended tone of the game.

The entire theme of the event is centered on exploring romantic tension, intimacy, and the growing bond between characters in a way that’s exciting but ultimately safe and consensual. The "spice" in these scenarios is shockingly suggestive when you have the censorship in mind, and designed to make us scream, not to introduce dark or inappropriate themes that would completely undermine the romantic fantasy. To imply otherwise is frankly absurd and feels like reading intent where there is none.

1) Otome games, particularly those rated 12+, are crafted to engage players in a romantic and emotionally fulfilling experience. They're fluffy, they're angsty, they can be dark and heavy, but even in more mature otome games, themes of non-consent (when they appear) are explicitly framed and addressed with appropriate tonal shifts. This isn’t a game where heavy, disturbing themes are shoehorned into a romantic storyline for shock value.

2) If the developers were truly presenting a situation where non-consensual sex or coercion was involved, it would be a complete betrayal of the genre, the event’s theme, and the player’s trust. The "spice" banner would instantly alienate the audience it’s designed for and spark backlash, not romantic engagement. The devs know their audience and their ratings, and this simply isn’t the place or context for something so serious.

Now that we're done WHY this sort of scenario CANNOT be the case for infold's writing, let's go into the symbolism and the language used to describe the act.

Rafayel enters the room abruptly and begins kissing MC without preamble. While this could initially seem forward, the scene takes care to show that:

MC actively breaks away to question him multiple times. This demonstrates that she is neither overpowered nor silenced, she has the agency to assert herself.

When she bites his lip, Rafayel respects this boundary and answers her questions, and more importantly, stops being non-verbal and communicates. It shows he is responsive to her cues, even when caught up in the moment.

The dynamic here leans into playful tension rather than coercion. MC’s actions (breaking away and biting) and Rafayel’s response (answering her and continuing to interact with her desires) showcase a mutual push-and-pull, common in romantic tension scenes.

As the scene progresses, it becomes clear that MC is not just passively involved but actively reciprocates:

Holds his hand on her own to make him accept the call while they're being sexual. That's freaky.

She flips him over and begins initiating physical affection, kissing him from his ear to his chest. This is a strong indication that she is not only comfortable but also eager to participate in their intimacy.

The "punish" action selected by the player highlights MC’s playful intent and interest in this interaction, especially in the context of teasing Rafayel while his friend’s call looms in the background. This playful edge basically screams mutual enjoyment rather than discomfort.

And now to the main course

the dagger

Listen. As much as we've normalized that this is dick in puss moment, infold can't. So, they've got to use euphemisms to describe Rafayel's dick and what he does with it. The metaphor of the "dagger" isn't meant to represent his dick and it hurting her.

Soft sharpness seeps into me bit by bit: This describes the initial entry, slow and deliberate, emphasizing Rafayel’s care in ensuring the act is comfortable and mutual. "Soft" reflects the intensity of the sensation without implying pain by juxtaposing with "sharpness". It also tells you that "soft sharpness" is his dick and it's describing how gentle he's being. How can sharpness be soft? When you're careful with it that it doesn't feel "sharp" anymore. It's meant to be a stand-in for his cock. It's not describing pain. It's his peanis. The dong. The verb "seeps" here says all you need to know, it's not painful.

Then it (the <<soft sharpness>>) digs into me like a dagger: This directly describes Rafayel increasing his movement (or thrusting), with the "dagger" symbolizing THE MOVEMENT. You know what you do with a dagger? Stab with it. The imagery of a dagger isn’t meant to evoke harm, it’s a stand-in for the deliberate and rhythmic motion of penetration.

So, in smut-language, Rafayel was putting it in slowly, then half-way, he thrusted it all the way in, quickly.

And so, let's interpret the act going forward.

"Yellow sand as far as the eye can see is covered by snow"

Remember that Rafayel indirectly called MC "the snow" by saying "it was soft and beautiful" when she pointed out it was snowing in the desert? This metaphor reflects the emotional and physical dynamic between Rafayel and MC. The “yellow sand” symbolizes Rafayel and his inner turmoil, dryness, and insecurities. The “snow” represents MC and his soothing presence and how her love transforms and comforts him. They are also on top of each other lmao, he is being “covered” by her presence, fully surrendering to her.

"We approach the sea beyond the dunes despite the bumpiness"

The "sea" symbolizes climax or release, both physically and emotionally. The “bumpiness” describes the physical intensity of their rhythm as they near this point together.

"Ripples travel along the undulating water's surface"

Yep. They're still going at it. This metaphor captures the sensations and physical effects of reaching climax. The ripples signify the aftereffects of release, the pleasure that radiates and envelops both of them. This is Rafayel and MC experiencing the peak of their intimacy, with the “undulating water” representing their synchronized pleasure and satisfaction.

"Swept into that endless blue"

Post-orgasm bliss. The overwhelming euphoria and serenity that comes with shared climax. It emphasizes the emotional connection they feel in this moment—boundless and all-encompassing.

"This isn't the abyss. Rather, it's a place filled with red flame lilies. This is Rafayel's color."

Now, this is MY interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt.

The "abyss" here symbolizes the emotional and creative void Rafayel has been experiencing--his lack of inspiration and his deep-rooted insecurities that leave him feeling hollow and disconnected. The abyss represents the blank canvas of his mind.

The transition from the abyss to the field of red flame lilies signifies a turning point for Rafayel. The flame lilies are not just a burst of inspiration, they are deeply tied to MC and the way she has reignited his passion BEYOND pain, both as an artist and as a person capable of love and connection.

By stating, “This is Rafayel’s color,” the narrative emphasizes that the flame lilies are uniquely his. They symbolize the return of his personal brand of creativity and vibrancy. It’s not about finding generic inspiration, it’s about rediscovering his own voice and perspective and MC doesn’t simply provide inspiration, she helps him unlock what was already inside him, and I believe, somehow witnesses the bursting of life inside him in her mind throughout the bond they share. MC serves as the guiding force that helps him reclaim his “color,” allowing him to see himself, and his art, in a new light.

Flame lilies are striking and bold, often symbolizing passion, love, and transformation. They’re an apt metaphor for Rafayel’s internal rebirth. Where the abyss was blank and desolate, the lilies are vibrant and overflowing with meaning, mirroring his renewed sense of self.

So, yeah.

And let’s be honest if you’re going to suggest non-consensual sex in a scene where MC flips him over, actively teases him, and metaphorically commands his every move through a glowing mark on his chest, then maybe it’s time to step away from the Reddit threads and reconnect with nature, maybe consider why you're intentionally picking on Rafayel like this.

He even asked, “Are you sure?” AND checked in with her later with "Are you comfortable?" -- all green flags here. If that’s not the gold standard of consent in an otome game, I don’t know what is.

I hope this was satisfactory, anon!!!!!

[tuesday-teyz]

Butterfly Reign chapter 40 😧

Hi!

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love Butterfly Reign—your writing is incredible, and I’ve been absolutely hooked from the start. I think I started reading when there were only about 10 chapters out, which feels like a lifetime ago!

I just finished chapter 40, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction the story took, particularly regarding Theseus and Wilbur. Their relationship has been such a complex and emotional journey, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing them work through their issues. Honestly, it’s crazy to think back to when I first started reading, and how I would’ve been rooting for Theseus to get his revenge, but now, with everything that’s happened, I didn’t expect the story to take such a tragic turn.

While I’m still deeply invested in the story, I’m curious about a few things—particularly the choice to have Wilbur die. I’ve been wondering, how long have you had this planned? I noticed the MCD tag from the beginning, so I’m wondering if this was always the direction you intended to take their characters or if it evolved as the story developed?

I’d also love to know your thoughts on Theseus’s actions here (without giving away any spoilers ofc). In the context of the story (obviously not condoning murder in real life 😭), do you think Theseus did what he had to do? Do you see him as someone who is still redeemable, or do you think that this was a mistake in his journey? I ask because, even though I’ve been the number one Theseus defender (his rights and wrongs) throughout the story, I found myself struggling with this moment. It’s the first time I’ve felt so conflicted about his character. I’m really curious about your perspective as the author, especially when it comes to the moral complexities in his decision.

Thank you so much for sharing this story— and I can’t wait to see what comes next! (even though i'm not yet willing to except that it shall continue BR!crimboys-less) at least give me hope for Br!discduo if nothing else

Hi, thank you for the ask, it made my morning!

To answer your questions, it's a little complex when exactly the decision came about. In my original outline back in 2022, this whole scene did not actually involve any fire. Instead, it was Theseus and Fundy stranded on the lake as ice begins to crack. Wilbur gets Fundy to safety first, and then when he comes back for Theseus, they fall through. From there on, there were two versions of this scene that I fluctuated between: one, Wilbur cuts the rope connecting them and lets himself drown, and two, the same happens but both of them get saved by a third outside force. This is followed up by Wilbur falling into a coma and being absent for the rest of the fic, sans the epilogue where we see him awake. Simply put, it was never my plan for Wilbur to be present in the final arc; he simply has no place there. His story was always meant to end in this chapter.

However, as time went on, I realized that using a coma is a very cheap (for the lack of a better word) way to write off a character, and his death by sacrifice did not feel right. As I mentioned in another post, br!Wilbur was, off and on, for nearly a decade, br!Tommy's abuser. To have someone who caused so much pain for him die saving him didn't sit right with me. Tommy was working for so long on accepting his past and unlearning the behaviors Wilbur brought up in him that it felt like an injustice and a poor message besides to basically say 'oh well he loved you at the end of the day'. And exploring his death from the point of view Tommy being relieved by it and feeling guilty at the same time is too repetetive of the story itself from when Wilbur ran away the first time. That's when the decision for Tommy to kill Wilbur was born.

So short answer: Wilbur's story was always meant to end at this moment. The idea for murder hatched during the travel arc.

I could not tell you exactly when did I realize that the plot was heading towards Tommy killing Wilbur, but I very firmly stand by the point that it's something that has been brewing up in the background unbeknownst even to me. The thing, Tommy has always been a killer. You have always known him as one (Clara was killed by him 3 years into the past), even though you didn't know his full backstory. An important part of this arc in its entirety is that it's Tommy unpacking and healing from the trauma he experienced 6 to 3 years ago. When Tommy gets sick and Wilbur takes care of him – that's 11 year old Tommy getting closure from Wilbur leaving him behind, and trading their family for the life of a commoner and a family of his own. It's not about them learning to be different in the future; it's about them mending the past. At no point at all this was meant to be about redeeming Wilbur.

Off to the next question: was this necessary? Did Tommy do what he had to?

Not at all. I address that in the chapter itself. I believe it's three different times that an image of Clara tells that Tommy must do it, meaning kill Wilbur, but the only time Tommy voices that thought himself (after the dialogue with Warden), the must changes to can. It's him taking agency over his own choices and acknowledging that he has this option and it's his decision to proceed with it. He tells Wilbur not to make excuses for him for Clara's death, knowing he's about to commit the same crime again.

As to how to feel about his actions – that's entirely up to you. You're not meant to feel a certain way about any of the characters, and especially not Tommy, but I am curious to hear your guys' thoughts and analysis. What do you think?

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

It took Soren a few minutes in the bathroom to compose himself after witnessing what he did with the miniscule woman. She was so small – so real. She could’ve been mistaken for being human if she were average height. The minute facial expressions were so clear that Soren could picture them if he closed his eyes. It was lucky that he was so good at reading people after the past few years of training.

Also, the girl didn’t have a poker face.

After pinching himself for the dozenth time and realizing this was no dream, he splashed a few handfuls of lukewarm water onto his face before heading for the kitchen. The sight that was waiting for him in the other room, however, made him wish it was a dream.

Dorian and Rey were both crestfallen on the couch. Shoulders were slumped. Eyes glossy with tears. Bottom lips trembling. Both boys sat on their hands and were holding still as they sat. Soren knew the position, since he was the one who implemented it. Well… his mom did anyway…

It was the position of punishment – time out.

When he did something wrong, his mom would make him sit on a chair quietly, usually with his hands under his legs, while he thought about what he did wrong. Soren didn’t experience this a lot as a child, but it was an effective method meant for him to reflect on what happened.

What was more astounding was the fact that Dorian and Rey were there. Soren hadn’t told them to go sit on time out. He’d just told them to go to the kitchen. Did they do this themselves? For feeling bad for what happened? Soren cleared his throat and both boys glanced over their shoulder, Dorian reaching up and wiping his nose on his sleeve, before looking away. It was a pitiful sight, but Soren was glad that the two of them seemed to recognize that they had messed up.

He walked around the couch and sat down on the wooden coffee table so he could face the two of them. His hazel eyes flicked from boy to boy before he took a breath and said, “Did you two put yourselves on time out?”

Both boys nodded.

“Do you know why you put yourselves on time out?” asked Soren. Both of them nodded before sniffling, their little brows furrowing as they shifted uncomfortably under Soren’s gaze. “Care to tell me about it?” Dorian was the first to pipe up between the two of them.

“Because,” he sniffled, snot rattling around in his nose. “I hurt the little person. I… I didn’t mean to. She was falling off of the desk and… and I didn’t think I grabbed her that hard. But… I’m sorry. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t bother you.” Soren clenched his jaw and nodded slowly before glancing at Rey.

“Rey? Why did you put yourself on time out?” asked Soren. Tears spilled down the cheeks of the young, pale blue eyed boy.

“Because I… I knew I should go get you and I didn’t. She was hurting all night because I didn’t do the right thing,” Rey said, his trembling voice tugging at his oldest brother’s heart strings.

Gosh… they’ve grown up so much. Mom… you’d be proud.

“Thank you both for apologizing,” stated Soren softly. “But remember what I said in the other room? I might not be the one you need to apologize to. Yeah?”

“H-how is s-sh-she?” asked Rey. “Is sh-she mad at us?”

“Right now, I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything as of now, but I think it’s just because she’s a bit scared; and it’s okay to be scared. If you think about how big the world is to us, imagine what it would be like coming from her perspective.” The boys nodded in agreement, so Soren continued. “She’s doing well right now, but she’s going to need some time to feel better and recover. I think she’s sick, probably with what we all had, and her arm is going to be sore.

“So, if you weren’t feeling well and were hurt, what would be something nice for someone to do for you?” asked Soren. The boys’ brows furrowed as they glanced at each other. As their caregiver, it was up to Soren to teach empathy and problem solving skills; and this was the perfect opportunity to test his two young brothers.

It only took a few seconds for Rey to speak first, muttering, “Get a comfy blanket?” It came out like a question, but it was a good start.

“Good. If she’s cold or wants to rest, a comfy blanket would be very nice to get her,” stated Soren.

“Let her pick the show she wants to watch,” suggested Dorian.

“Also a good idea. She might just want to rest at the moment though, but we can ask when she wakes up,” agreed Soren.

“I could make her something so she doesn’t have to use her hurt arm to reach for stuff,” Rey said eagerly.

“Also a good idea. We’ll need to spend time making it for her though. It has to be the right size and something she can use on her own,” Soren reminded.

“What if… what if we share some of our toys? She maybe could use some of them since she’s so small,” Dorian said.

“Again, good thinking. Remember we don’t want her to feel like a toy though. A person’s a person, no matter how small, and giving her pieces of toys or actual toys might give her the wrong idea,” Soren stated, which made Dorian’s features fall ever so slightly. His mind was in the right place though. Soren remembered the boys had some play toys that were forks and plates and knives, all things which the miniscule woman would be able to use. 

“Um… Get her something good to drink? And maybe eat?” asked Rey. Soren smiled and nodded, which brought back that little bit of twinkle in the boys’ eyes.

“I think that’s a great idea; and, while she’s resting, we can make something for her and for ourselves,” Soren smiled. “Now, who’s going to come help me in the kitchen?”

Both Dorian and Rey glanced eagerly at one another before looking back at Soren. Their collective illness had left them eating the minimum amount each day and, finally, they had an appetite again. They would have a chance to have a good breakfast for the first time in a week, and they would get to do something nice for their new little friend.

So, after Soren gave them a quick hair ruffle, the two youngsters trotted along behind Soren to help make things right.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Darkness. Bliss. Quiet. Warmth. Aching. Throbbing. Worry. Panic. Ease. Confusion. Exhaustion. The different feelings and thoughts and sensations swirled around her mind as she attempted to open her eyes for the first time in who knew how long. There were a few things that stood out to her.

One, she was still sick. A clogged nose and sore throat told her that much. She silently thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t nauseous anymore. It probably had something to do with the cracker piece and cap of water Soren had given her before she’d passed out.

That’s right!

Ashlynn’s groggy senses sharpened in an instant as the clear memory of her simply laying down and falling asleep with a human within arm’s reach of her flashed before her eyes. Her body lurched involuntarily as she attempted to sit upright, but the immediate twinge in her arm told her she needed to move slower if she didn’t want to hurt herself more than what she already was. A fuzzy blanket was draped over her shoulder, which she vaguely remembered pulling onto her body as she fell asleep.

What kind of idiot Borrower am I? Falling asleep with a human so close by? I’m just asking to be… Ashlynn looked around the room while she felt her chest tighten as her thought tapered off into a single word. Caught…

The word rattled around in her head.

Caught. I’ve been seen. I’ve been caught. How on earth am I going to get out of this one?

Ashlynn glanced up at the ceiling, a sense of vertigo tugging her nausea back into the forefront of her mind. The Borrower woman tore her eyes away as she focused on her surroundings. The bottle cap filled partially with water was still in front of her. The cracker fragments were within arm’s reach. The red bag and container with the blue lid were gone, as was the human.

As far as she could tell, nothing else had been touched or removed. The only main difference was that the door was completely closed instead of being slightly propped open. On any other day, Ashlynn would be able to hear everything going on in the apartment and be able to pick up on faint scents that would be dangerous or good for her. Nothing was worse than losing your senses as a Borrower, and Ashlynn had lost two plus her injured arm.

Everything inside of her felt heavy, as though she’d spent the entire day borrowing and climbing. The spark of energy from earlier was depleted, and it was likely not going to come back without more rest. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. The piecemeal ideas coming to her were poor attempts to escape from the top of the bed and survive until her arm felt better.

I could try and climb down. No. Not if my arm keeps twinging like this. I’ll drop and fall. I could have a one handed line and lower myself down. No. I don’t have a line or safety pin. I might have that in my bag. Did I bring it with me? Shoot… it’s in the drawer. I can’t climb that again. I could try and make the jump to the bedside table, but… no… that’s not going to work either.

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how many poorly thought-out ideas came and went, but the ultimate realization came as she attempted to move her arm to test mobility.

I can’t leave… Not on my own… and not like this.

Her chest tightened, constricting her breathing, while her eyes started to burn again. It was a crushing realization. The autonomy she’d so enjoyed for all of her life had been crippled. The dangerous thought of whether or not she could even survive on her own even if she did get away began to grow stronger and stronger.

Before she could spiral completely into this new, crushing thought, Ashlynn felt the ground beginning to shake ever so slightly. It was low, deep, and rhythmic – all pointing to the signature human footstep approaching. The Borrower’s instinct was to flee and hide behind the edge of the drawer, but that dangerous thought of being unable to escape her current fate left Ashlynn planted firmly on the bedspread.

The door cracked open followed by a few distinct taps. Ashlynn could see Soren’s face as he opened the door and peered in. The sight alone was unnerving, sending a chill down her shivering spine, but she stayed seated. Whether she was freezing or simply too exhausted to move, Ashlynn wasn’t sure anymore. What she did know was that there was something warm and inviting in Soren’s smile as he pushed the door open a little more so he could step partially into the room.

“Hey there, little miss. Sleep alright?” asked Soren, his deep, melodic voice drifting through the air like warm cinnamon sugar. Ashlynn remained silent, still debating whether or not she should break the last Borrower rule and actually talk to the human in front of her.

When he didn’t receive a response, Soren nodded and pointed further into the room, asking, “Is it okay if I come in?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to do. Did she respond? Nod? Shake? Say nothing? Or could Soren simply discern through whatever method he was using earlier to simply read her mind? A smile tugged at the corner of Soren’s lips as he nodded.

“Still not sure, huh?” he muttered. “I can come back later if you’d like. We just wanted to see if you were hungry and felt well enough to eat a little something.” Ashlynn chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought about the question. She didn’t really feel hungry, but then again she could probably eat. Was she actually not hungry? Or was it because she was feeling stressed and sick that kept her appetite at bay?

I have to do something.

Is nodding considered against the rules?

Would it be so bad if I nodded or shook my head?

“I’ll come back in a few minutes. Sound like a plan?” Soren’s decision took care of Ashlynn’s predicament, which was a relief. He’d be back sooner than later though, and she was no closer to a proper answer.

In what felt like only a few seconds, there was another set of short taps on the door as it once again swung open. Ashlynn’s heart skipped like a boulder down the mountain, crashing against her ribs in solid thuds, as her blue gray eyes snapped back to the door. It was Soren again. This time, however, he had something in his hands.

“Hey there, little miss. Thought any about if you’re hungry or not?” Ashlynn’s insides felt hollow, but still no appetite came to her. I need to eat something, probably. Alright… I… I have to do something…. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!

Ashlynn looked back up with reluctance into Soren’s reassuring golden hazel eyes, the curiosity and fascination they held obviously being kept at bay and replaced with concern, before tearing her eyes away and doing something she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

She nodded.

The Borrower rules were always adamant, as were other Borrowers she’d met along with her family members, that the rule was, “Do not speak to a human. Don’t let them know you can talk.” The second part was, “Don’t let them know you can understand them. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to leave.” Ashlynn was purposefully ignoring that part of the rule in hopes that Soren, a human, would be understanding and let her go; or, at the very least, not stop her when she was well enough to leave.  

She felt her insides churn when she saw Soren’s eyes widen, even from across the room, as he registered her acknowledgement of his question. What was going through his mind? Was he contemplating if it was a fluke? Or was he making plans to keep her now that she’d made her intelligence known? At the moment, it only prompted him to ask another question, which was, “Is it okay if I come in? I have a few things I hope you might like.”

Again, Ashlynn forced herself to swallow the bile in the back of her throat as she nodded again. Her chest compressed. Everything felt tight. She listened to the approaching footsteps and shut her eyes tight, wishing herself to be anywhere but here. The comforter nearby shifted, telling Ashlynn that Soren was within a foot or so of her. She flinched away involuntary, which only made her arm twinge.

She felt herself starting to shake as she chewed the bottom of her lip. The dry flecks of skin pealed off easily from her teeth scraping against them, creating a nasty flaking paste in her mouth. To keep herself from gagging, she reached up and spit out the substance into her sleeve while wiping her mouth.

Thud.

Thud.

Ashlynn thought it sounded like Soren’s knees hitting the ground one at a time, and a quick glance up revealed she was right. Soren was indeed only a few feet away, further than she thought, and an immense wooden tray was to her left.

It was then that she heard something she wasn’t expecting – a nervous exhale. Ashlynn glanced up just in time to catch the slightest bit of nerves in Soren’s eyes as he attempted to smile with some reassurance.

Weird for him to be nervous. He’s the human here, not me. He’s got the power. He’s in control. Why is he nervous?

“Feeling any better?” Soren asked. Ashlynn clenched her jaw, completely entranced by his eyes, before looking down at her feet that she’d pulled closer to her, and shaking her head. Again, a faint, nervous breath from Soren. “No? Well, that’s to be expected. You were only asleep for a little while. You’ll need more sleep and, well, pretty much everything else if you want to get better.

“Speaking of which, we weren’t sure what you’d like so we made a little spread. We have some cut fruit, cream of wheat, pancakes, sausage, a bit of bread, and some of the soup that I made for the boys. They call it magic broth, but it’s just a bunch of vegetables and meat that’ll help you feel better. Sorry if that was a lot all at once. And don’t feel obligated to finish anything, especially if you don’t like it. Okay?”

The list was enough to make Ashlynn’s head spin. It sounded like he listed off an entire pantry’s worth of food, and yet it was all there on that tray. Honestly, crackers sounded the best because she hadn’t been sick after eating one of those. Plus, she hadn’t heard of a bunch of the things Soren talked about; but, if it made her feel better, she was willing to give it a try. Getting out of here was the goal, and the sooner the better.

“Do… you need help up? Or do you just want to move over here at your own pace?” asked Soren. Ashlynn’s expression, even before she shook her head, must’ve said it all because Soren smiled and chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I’d probably say the same thing if I were in your shoes. Just two more things and then I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

The question was an earnest one, and he was obviously seeking some kind of confirmation, so Ashlynn nodded. It made her insides twist uncomfortably, but it was with the promise that she would be left on her own.

“Alrighty. Thing one is whether or not you feel up to taking some medicine.” The word made Ashlynn’s insides clench. Medicine? Like the stuff that made me throw up and got me into this whole mess in the first place? “I don’t know if you want to take any, but it might make you feel better faster and let your body get some essential rest. I also don’t know what you can and can’t take, so we can play that by ear if you’re willing to try it.

“Thing two, and you’ll probably say no but I want to ask, is that the boys want to apologize to you.”

Ashlynn’s blood ran cold.

Apologize?

The boys?

Have those two young boys near me again?

“I know, and I figured that would be your reaction; but, I promised I would ask. They feel really bad about everything that happened last night and want to say that they’re sorry. It’s up to you, obviously, but it would mean a lot to them. They could just stand by the door and not come in if that’s what you’re worried about,” explained Soren. “But, anyway, I wanted to ask on their behalf.”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to think. Much like the dilemma with whether to nod and shake her head to communicate roughly with Soren, there was no clear answer that made her feel confident. If she said no, it might make Soren and the boys angry and lead to some kind of punishment of some kind. If she said yes, she would have to see the two young humans and possibly have to interact with them as well.

Soren, thankfully, had given her the choice and simply pleaded the boys’ case. After a brief silence, Soren left the room and Ashlynn was once again alone. She still felt weak. Every part of her felt tingly and brittle, like she’d fall apart at any moment. It took nearly five minutes just to stand on her feet and prop herself against the wooden drawer that was once her prison. With a little effort, she managed to make it up onto the tray to view the enormous buffet in front of her. Everything was in some kind of bottle cap or tin foil, perfectly laid out along with what looked like a small plastic bowl and a few tiny utensils that looked like they belonged to a doll house.

She’d never seen so much food. Not only that. Ashlynn had never seen so much food untouched and unspoiled, just ready to eat. It made her head spin that humans could have so much at hand while her and every other Borrower had to fight every day for unspoiled scraps. Days of not eating well made her mouth water at the mere sight of the display before her, even though her appetite wasn’t completely back. She recognized almost everything, but decided to focus on the “magic broth” Soren had mentioned.

Ashlynn walked over, sat down, and cautiously dipped out a small portion into the tiny plastic bowl she’d been given. Her sense of taste was skewed, but it was still warm and, from what she could tell, delicious. She’d never had something so mouthwatering before. Between that and the bread, she nearly finished the entire bottle cap as she sat there in silence as she picked up fragments of sound in the apartment.

So… they eat like this every day? What is there to ever complain about then? It must be nice, not having to worry where your next meal is coming from…. Maybe… being a pet wouldn’t be so bad…

It was an intrusive thought, jolting Ashlynn out of her stupor.

What?! What on earth am I thinking?! I’m not a pet. I’m a person. I’m a Borrower. I shouldn’t even be out here! I’m just here until I’m better. Right? Just until I break this stupid sickness and then I’ll be back in the walls, with or without my arm feeling up to snuff.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft three wrap knocking on the door snagged Ashlynn’s attention and directed it back toward the door where, sure enough, there was Soren. He was standing there with a friendly and hopeful look as he cracked open the door a little wider.

“Hey there, little miss. How are you feeling? Is it okay if I come in?” Ashlynn thought about the question for a minute while she huddled on the tray before nodding. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but noticed once he came in that he had a couple of small cups in his hands. Well, small for him. For Ashlynn, they looked like wash bins for dishes or clothes.

When Soren was close enough, he once again knelt on the ground a few feet or so away from where Ashlynn was sitting, making her heart jump into her throat, as she glimpsed at what Soren had in the cups. The nausea in the back of her throat reared its head when she noticed the dark teal liquid in one of the cups.

“I hope you’re feeling better. Looks like you enjoyed some of the soup at least,” Soren said. Ashlynn glanced down bashfully, unsure if she was supposed to have as much as she did or if it was just a ration, before Soren continued, saying, “If you want any more, just let me know.

“Anyway, I’m back to see if you’ve thought about the two things I mentioned earlier. One about the medicine and two about the boys. Any thoughts?”

Ashlynn found herself chewing on the inside of her cheek again nervously. She hadn’t really given it much thought, and now Soren was expecting some kind of answer. She pulled her injured arm closer to her torso, making it twinge once again, while averting her eyes.

“Not sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it might help you get some decent rest,” stated Soren. “And… for the boys? Is that also a no?”

Ashlynn swallowed dryly, her sore throat forming a tight lump and making it difficult for her. She could still taste the sick mucus coating her throat as she did. It made the Borrower want to gag. This time, however, her apprehension seemed to ease as she thought about the pale blue eyes of the youngest boy.

That one… Rey… he didn’t seem angry or malicious when he was holding onto me. And… the other… Dorian… it feels… like an accident. He shouldn’t have grabbed so hard, but… Soren’s right… he’s just a kid. Both of them are. They’re just kids who want to say they’re sorry. Maybe… I owe them that much? I guess it’s all Soren can ask of me. If letting the boys say sorry is the only “payment” for patching me up and letting me go, then it is a small price to pay.

She couldn’t believe it, but Ashlynn let herself shake her head. Soren’s eyes gleamed happily as he asked cautiously, “You… just shook your head? So, that means yes? That you’d be okay with the boys apologizing?”

Ashlynn nodded slowly, but tensely.

“That’s… great. Seriously, thank you. This’ll mean the world to them. I’ll keep them by the door for you, if you’re okay with that,” Soren said. Ashlynn nodded again.

Soren’s heart was racing as he marveled at the hand sized woman sitting on the tray in front of him. Her responding to “yes” and “no” questions was both a shock and novel experience. Soren suspected she could understand him, but it was only confirmed with that first small nod. He could only hope that her responding mixed with his efforts and his brothers’ apology would help form a little more trust with the miniscule woman.

He stood as carefully as he could and stepped out of the room to see his two brothers eagerly waiting by the edge of the kitchen table. Both of their pale blue eyes looked at him with hopeful anticipation as he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. With a smile, the boys knew immediately that their request had been granted. Before they could start cheering, however, Soren knelt in front of them and laid a heavy hand on each of their shoulders.

“Okay, you two, we need to be on our best behavior. She agreed, but you will have to stand by the door. She’s still a bit apprehensive of all of us. Speak clearly and gently. She’s still sick and hurt. I’m sure all of this is a lot for her. More importantly, she’s a person with thoughts and feelings. We need to respect that. Understand?” asked Soren. “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

“Yessir,” both Dorian and Rey said simultaneously. Soren smiled, coaxing the boys forward as he stood, before tapping on the door again.

When the door opened again, Ashlynn saw all three humans consuming the doorway from one side to the other. It was an unnerving sight, and it made Ashlynn squirm ever so slightly. Still, true to his word, Soren kept the boys by the door as they spotted her. All six eyes were fixed on her body, making her feel like she was standing under a magnifying glass, a thing she found unnerving in the last home she lived in.

“Um… miss?” spoke up the youngest as he glanced up at Soren before looking back at her. “I’m… well… we’re really sorry about last night. We shouldn’t have put you in the drawer, and we should’ve seen if you were okay before we went to bed. I should’ve gotten Soren to help check on you, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.” Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes as he sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“I’m sorry too, miss,” Dorian said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or your arm. I thought I was helping you by keeping you from falling off of the desk. I shouldn’t have grabbed so hard. And I should’ve gotten help sooner with Rey. I hope you can forgive me.”

Seeing the two human boys with glistening tears rolling down their cheeks sent Ashlynn back into her memory. She remembered seeing her younger brother apologize like this when he had broken her first borrowing and, in that moment, Ashlynn could only sense genuine remorse from the two young humans.

It was a pitiful, sad sight. It made Ashlynn’s heart flutter and left her nodding subtly before tearing her eyes away from the three humans. She missed the look of surprise and relief on Dorian’s and Rey’s faces when they saw her nod, but what she didn’t miss was Soren ushering the boys out of the room and walking back over to her.

“Thank you…”

Ashlynn glanced into Soren’s eyes just for a moment and, like every other time, saw fascination, but also gratitude. It made his eyes shine like the evening sun on a summer day. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if it was her fever or the sudden thrum in her heart beating faster, but her cheeks and body suddenly felt completely flush.

She looked away quickly, hoping Soren didn’t notice, and listened as he asked about whether or not she wanted to take either of the medicines he brought. The teal one was something called NyQuil, which helped with fevers and cold symptoms as well as her pain. The other one with a much longer, technical name that Ashlynn had no hope of pronouncing, was meant to help reduce the fever and help with the pain. Though she hated both options, especially how they smelled, the one that could handle it all was, to her dismay, the teal NyQuil.

“You don’t like the smell or taste?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head as she stared at her muted reflection in the viscous fluid. “Well, that’s good. Means your like everyone else who’s ever taken it. Word of advice. Hold your nose as you swallow and drink something immediately after to get rid of the taste. It’ll make the experience less miserable.”

Ashlynn remembered Soren saying something like that to his brothers before they took this medicine, and she intended on taking his advice. Taking a deep breath, she only took a single mouthful as she held her nose and swallowed. It felt like the same mucus coating her throat as the liquid traveled down her throat. There was a burning and cooling sensation happening all at once, making her gag as she had done the night before. Quickly though, she stepped over to the cup of water Soren had brought and drank as much as she could muster before gasping for air again.

The moment she breathed, she could feel the cooling burn the medicine left behind, but it was nowhere near as bad as what had happened the first time she put the teal liquid into her mouth.

“Better?” asked Soren. The Borrower woman nodded as she drank a little more water to soothe her aching throat. “Good. Well, you should try and get some more rest, okay? That medicine will let you sleep long and hard, so take advantage of it. I’ll make sure the boys don’t come bother you, but I’ll be back to check if you need anything. Sound good? And don’t worry about the food. I’ll leave it here if you get peckish.”

Ashlynn watched as Soren once again vacated the room, surrendering it completely to her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way back to the wooden box and retrieved her blanket. She pulled it over to the corner and made a comfortable place before laying down, eyelids drifting lower and lower as relaxation flirted with her desire to sleep.

I’ll be better soon. I just have to make it a few more days and then I’ll escape. I hope I’m better by then anyway…

And Soren… he’s been so kind. Maybe… maybe he’s not such a bad human. Maybe none of them are…. No. Don’t worry about that now. Get some sleep. Feel better. Find a way to thank Soren… eventually.

With that, Ashlynn succumbed to sleep once more, the first signs of being on the mend on the horizon.

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Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[incognitobobcat]

Going Nowhere

This is a preface to a series of stories that I am planning on writing between a Fem!Reader and my HC Tomas, if he had unresolved issues. Let’s say that he is around 20 to 22 years old and the Reader is 18 to 20 years old. This is Tomas' first serious relationship and during the course of it, a lot of things arose that mirrored back his insecurities which affected the Reader negatively. The Reader's reaction to that in turn affects him to the point where there may be no resolution between them.

Trigger warning: If you’ve experienced being in an abusive relationship, proceed with caution or don’t read if it’s still fresh for you.

Pairing: HC Dark Cancerian Smoke/Tomas Vrbada x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every relationship will never be free of conflict. Now and then, difficult conversations need to be had. The issue is when one partner is not willing to listen when the other partner expresses how their personal needs are not being met. Just one of many arguments that’s going nowhere.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Tomas spat in frustration. He was standing above you while rubbing his face. with a hand.

The space where he sat beside you seconds ago was now vacant. You took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, bracing for the umpteenth attempt at having this conversation and expecting it going nowhere.

It was unfortunate, as each time you had hoped that you’d be able to get through to him for once only to end up feeling emotionally drained afterwards. You can’t think of a time where there was any satisfactory resolution, since you always end up giving into his emotions and his perspective just to keep the peace.

“We need to have this conversation, Tomas,” you began gently, “There have been enough issues-“

“What issues?!” Tomas raised his voice a little, throwing his hand in the air, “There are no issues on my end! You’re the one causing the problems between us! Every. Time!” There was an exasperated and hurt expression on his face, "I just had a long day and I have so much on my mind! The last thing I need is for you to berate me!"

Your heart sunk everything you saw that expression, but you noticed that annoyance and frustration from consistently not being heard also reared their heads. You pushed the feeling aside to focus on your needs.

“Can you let me finish?” You continued in a firm and calm tone, "I have no intention of berating you at all. All I want is to talk things through. What I want from you is understanding and for you to hear me out. I’ve been trying to address things that we need to work on between us, but I never seem to be able to get through to you.”

There was a defiant expression on his face now, “What exactly do we need to work on?! All I’ve ever done was love and provide for you! What about understanding me? You’re not understanding me and what I need! You don’t understand anything, especially about love!”

“Do you seriously believe that?!” you responded defensively, the volume rising. The frustration that you felt was starting to give way to hopelessness.

“Watch your tone,” he warned sternly in a soft low voice.

Raising a hand, as if to appease him, you apologized sincerely.

“I acknowledge what you’ve done for me and I am grateful! It’s the way that you go about showing your love that feels…” you buried your face in your hands and took deep breaths to keep the emotions that were threatening to explode under control. The longer you paused, the more your feelings clawed at your chest as if fighting to escape; “oh, my god……my god…..,” you whispered fearfully.

You couldn’t see it; he was still standing over you and you felt his eyes bore into you disapprovingly. He probable had his arms crossed.

“What does my love feel like to you, Y/N?” Tomas challenged you, “Just say it."

There was now a painful lump in your throat, which you tried to swallow back with your dry mouth. Your breathing had picked up its pace with the anxiety and fear. Fear of hurting his feelings.

You hesitated, thinking whether you had picked the wrong time to try to resolve your issues or not. Did you fail to read him and his mood? He seemed happy before you started the conversation, and you had been a bag of nerves for the past few days, running through possibility after possibility of how you would go about this. As tempted as you were to just get up and walk away, apologizing and admitting that maybe you were just seeing things wrong like you had to do to end similar past difficult conversations, a part of you was angry that you had to resort to doing this to spare his feelings and…ego. A friend had discreetly pointed this out to you and you were now starting to see it.

“I feel suffocated,” you admitted in a defeated tone, your face still in your hand. But you said it. You had stood your ground. Baby steps at a time.

You raised your head to look at him, your heart beating loud and fast, and held your breath.

Tomas looked stunned. He was looking at you like you had just sprouted a second head.

“Suffocated??” he repeated in disbelief.

The breath that you had been holding in was loudly released. Before you knew it, your words escaped as if they had their own will.

“I’m not happy in this relationship, Tomas! I know that I have done my best to make sure that I take care of you and your needs! I’ve always been there for you to listen and support you when you needed me to. I also continue to strive to be a better member and or this clan and for you! I’ve had to give up my friends because that’s how you want to be exclusive. I can’t have any free time just for myself to do what I like and unwind because you get insecure and accuse me of cheating, which is NOT TRUE! I can’t have honest conversations with you and I don’t feel heard! I have given you my time, energy, body and-“

“Stop talking.”

You were interrupted and you stopped dead on your tracks. Tomas’ voice was now calm, cold, and low. His face, once expressive, had a stony expression, but there was something in his eyes that you have never seen before and it frightened you.

“I understand what you’re saying now. To you, I am not enough. Everything that I do for you, all the love and gifts that I have given to only you aren’t good enough. In fact, nothing seems to satisfy you.”

At this accusation, you felt defensive and you opened your mouth to deny what he just said. He held his hand up to silence you.

“Don’t interrupt me, Y/N,” Tomas continued in the same calm and cold tone, “The problem with you is that you don’t have a grasp on what love is and the sacrifices that it takes to have a successful relationship. Two people who are willing to set themselves aside and put the other first before themselves, no matter how painful it is IS love. For my part, I have sacrificed so much for you and I have given myself to you. I can’t say that you have done the same for me. Despite revealing my past to you and knowing what my needs are, you still continue to do things that make me feel disrespected! If you love me, then you wouldn’t make me feel alone, disrespected, unloved, and belittled! I give you so much love and all you do is push me away! When I so much as have a single friend, you get extremely jealous! But if you would have taken care of me the way I needed you to, I wouldn’t have to confide in other people!”

“That’s not true!” You replied calmly, shaking your head and looking at him angrily.

“I’m not finished!” Tomas said angrily, “All this talking about “issues” that need to be resolved is stemming from failure on your part to accept me in my entirety-who I am, my hopes and dreams, my culture, my flaws, my weaknesses, my vulnerabilities, my family! In fact, the way you have been behaving lately makes you insufferable!”

The words of the last sentence stabbed you in the heart like a thousand knives. Was this how he saw you? What was he talking about?? You felt tears threatening to well up and you fought them back as hard as you could.

"You used to be so caring, selfless and attentive to me. I don't know what I have done to make you this way. I think that you have been listening to the wrong people and have allowed them to come between us. You are allowing others to dictate how you're feeling and perceiving things. I'm telling you that you and the others are wrong. I only want what is best for you...for us. All I want is to love you and give you my all."

Tomas' demeanor and voice softened as he walked towards you, reaching out a hand to maybe comfort you. Being highly charged with emotion, you moved away from him.

"Don't," you exclaimed shakily, "Just leave me alone." You allowed your tears to fall this time.

He disregarded your request and closed the gap to embrace you.

"Shh, it's ok," he soothed, rubbing your back.

You recoiled at his touch and stood up, "I said leave me alone!" You shouted, wheeling around to glare at him.

"You see? This is how you get when you don't get your way," Tomas countered smugly, "You know you're wrong that's why you're hurting like this."

At this point, you felt insane. All you had wanted was an honest conversation, which ended like this every time. Why couldn't he see that he was also hurting you? Unless there's a possibility that you were the one in the wrong? Were you, though? Were you always the problem? You weren't sure anymore and you felt like you were going to drown in your doubts and uncertainties. You hated that you felt so belittled and powerless. Are all relationships like this?

"Stop being childish and immature and just admit that you're wrong. I'll forgive you, like I always do," Tomas soothed you in a patronizing tone, He made another attempt at bringing you in his arms to comfort you. In the past, this gesture had had made you feel hopeful and being in his arms made you feel so good that you had forgotten how his tantrums, guilt trips, gaslighting, and disrespect made you feel small and insignificant. However, in this moment, every memories that involved the roller coaster of emotions from conflicts to attempts to have conversations to resolve issues to being shut down and silenced to having your defeated self being 'comforted' was gradually giving you clarity of what you needed to do.

You said nothing, wiped your tears, and stood up. You were going to walk away, like you always did. What's different this time was that you weren't going to apologize.

"I want my space. Do not follow me," you said with unwavering decisiveness, "You want me to stop talking, I will respect that."

Before he can say anything else, you bolted out of the shared quarters. You had so much to think about.

As you were running not far from your shared quarters, you whipped out the phone that you had been hiding and hit Stop Recording button. As fast as you could, you punched in a phone number and attached the recording before sending it.

[frogatz]

hi . it has been over a year since i made this and i wanted to do a little retrospective :] lots of oversharing under the cut. mostly about covid .

i find a lot of value in this thing i made, so while i air out what this meant to me at the time i hope it doesn’t just read as pointless vent art. i wanted to get something across here. with that said, i have had covid two (2!) times and without being too explicit abt it, both instances left me disabled in new and exciting ways.

the first time i got covid i drew this for a class.

it was 2022, and several factors abt that period of time left me with a lot of feelings about surveillance, especially the way it was interacting with my very very sick mind. i made containers after getting covid for a second time a year and a half later, and was still processing what that meant for all the progress i lost. i consider this the kind of blueprint for containers, and personally count it as an unofficial, too early part of the zine. i tried to pay homage to it with the cover, but i think in the end they portray different things, with the cloud of sickness being more at the forefront in containers.

there is a through line i wanted to draw with “as above, so below”. i worried it would be too hard to understand what was going on since its flipped upside down, but i felt it was important enough that anybody who cared would find a way to view it LOL. the actual phrase and Symbol itself obviously has religious ties, but to be completely honest i am more interested in my personal interpretation . something about sameness, something about futility, but at the same time unexpected opportunity. as above, so below: you will find the same thing regardless of which direction you choose.

in the first panel we see a new box, and a yet unobserved statue. the “as above, so below” statue represents the unknown truth of the situation. we depart from that thread (but not really) to view something that is very personal to me: my house! or part of a house i used to live in. those 3 rooms were my enclosure when i got ill. it’s where i felt the most trapped. i am earnestly happy to not live there anymore

returning to “as above, so below” in the third panel, we can see that time has passed. the walls have been scraped, the statue has been clawed at, and there is a sense of surrender. this also ties in with the next panel, which i honestly wasn’t sure if i was going include in the zine. it harkens back to the blueprint in intention, so i ultimately didn’t end up replacing it.

the container is less defined in this one, so it’ll take some explaining. the square is centered around the head, tapered in a way that i wanted to invoke some sort of spotlight. post-covid i made the decision to seek out a cane, and a lot of grief and shame came along with it. i was back to being perceived, and i was back to being dependent.

the fifth panel shows an escape, and this is where the flipped perspective in “as above, so below” becomes the most important. looking at it as it is, it looks as if the tunnel has been dug down, deeper into the earth. then of course, if you flip it to be right side up you can read it as a tunnel upwards, towards whatever freedom might be waiting. at the time i was asking the question of if it mattered which direction it truly was going in. this was a time of self reflection and discovery for me all things considered, so i threw in a little something for me in the following panel. curiosity, a little machinery rep, and the “container” actually being a beam of light in the pitch dark, focused on the surroundings rather than the self . it’s the most overtly happy panel i think.

i broke up the “as above, so below” sequence to imply time, but im glad i laid out the final 3 panels the way i did. the transition between the last two was a happy accident that changed my own perception of what’s going on, and it’s interesting to me that this is only visible side by side like this in This version. the pdf is not laid out like this, it couldn’t be viewed this way on instagram either.

at the time i remember the original vision with the last panel is that i had created a pattern and i wanted to subvert it, although i can’t remember to what end. white is the container, and black is what defines it. there’s something there, but when i worked on this i felt like i was letting a lot of things go, so when the end took shape i just kind of let it happen.

i wanted to escape and become Something, and that’s where the hope was hidden for me. either genuine improvement or being comfortable where i was , i was just hoping for Something. i like it to be honest !! i think it was an important step for me, even if that knowledge comes mostly in hindsight.

anywaysss . that’s all ^.^ i hope i do not get horrifically embarrassed about airing out my thoughts like this but i am always proud of the deeper intentions i like to put into art . i do it often

hi . containers

[not-poignant]

The latest UtR update on AO3 got me hooked and I could no longer constrain myself and had to read the other chapters on Patreon. Now I need to know: does Lucien have any redeeming character traits in the series or can I add him straight to the list of characters that deserve the worst? That attitude of his towards Faber made me so mad lmao

Hi anon!

This actually reminds me of the ask I got recently about how awful Augus is as a character and how it's impossible to consider him through a positive light after reading Falling Falling Stars. Because that's how he seems if you've never read him in anything else of mine!

My narrators are unreliable, anon. We only ever see Lucien very briefly through the jealous eyes of an insecure man.

(Spoilers for a future brief verbal encounter between Lucien and Faber in Underline the Red).

Lucien is an extremely vulnerable omega who is in an institution that has temporary custody of him. They control what he eats, what he does, whether he leaves or not (i.e. he's functionally imprisoned), who fucks him, if he gets to see anyone else, if he can talk to his partner and family back home and how often. He has significant psychiatric issues around his own insecurities re: jealously and his partner, and he clocks Faber as being in love with Caleb, and he's right.

And that's incredibly unethical of Faber, honestly, to not have disclosed any of this to Dr Gary (like Dr Gary will be right to consider firing him over this in the future). It puts Lucien's mental health in direct and severe jeopardy, and is ironically likely what causes his relapse that causes Caleb to suggest domestic discipline in the first place (oh, Faber, the irony).

Because Lucien's there to learn that actually a lot of his jealousy and insecurity is unfounded. Instead, he learns the opposite, that no matter who he bonds with, someone else is there loving his potential partner while he perceives himself as having very little control (and in the case of Hillview - this is true, all he has are his words).

He's a chronically disabled omega who needs a disability aid (walking stick) to get around, he's a second class citizen, he's agreed with his partner to stay at Hillview because they both recognise how sick he's getting.

Faber is not a mental health patient/omega like Lucien is. He's a staff member who is nursing unrequited loved to an alpha companion, that he's refused to disclose, while still interacting with Caleb and his omegas. Imho, while Lucien is very good at lashing out, he's not wrong to, and that's why Faber fully acknowledges what Lucien is saying and listens to him, and basically never interacts with him again, and avoids Caleb where possible.

Lucien's mean about it, but Lucien is right re: Faber trying to hide his feelings because he knows what will happen if people find out, and that it's also wrong/unfair to put Lucien in that position.

And Faber knows that.

So yeah. The reader is meant to hate Lucien on a surface level, in the same way that Faber does.

But consider that Faber also sometimes seems to hate all omegas. He finds the smell of their heats disgusting. It's actually pretty normal for people to go through a phase of rejecting the thing that they are, if that's something hated in society. Faber's oscillating mixed feelings of bitterness, resentment and cutting attitude is actually mirrored in Lucien.

Faber has thought extremely savage, scathing and unforgiving things himself to the people around him (and himself). Lucien responds to Faber like Faber is an omega (something Faber doesn't recognise yet), because Faber...kind of acts like one in moments like that. (Efnisien also picks up on this, Faber is not great to him in the beginning of Underline the Black, in a very specific way designed for Efnisien to pick up on, and for Gary to miss. Faber behaves jealously, and constantly suggests to Gary that he should get rid of Efnisien, before he finally adjusts to the absence of Gary in his life. Faber is possessive and manipulative!)

Lucien ultimately doesn't need any redeeming characteristics because he's a victim who is at Hillview to heal and Faber is jeopardising that. We can hate him, but that's just the fact. He didn't try to kill Kadek when he arrived at Hillview, he hasn't tried to destroy memories of James, things Efnisien has done even though we love him all the same (ideally). Lucien felt understandably jealous/insecure (literally the thing he's at Hillview to be treated for, safe from people who will be in love with his lover until Faber) and he lashed out meanly.

If a staff member of Hillview can't handle some rude words, they shouldn't work there.

But yeah, I like the Lucien and Faber encounter because they are both extremely similar people in some ways. They are both bitter, jealous, resentful people capable of very scathing thoughts (and words). The only difference is that in that moment, Faber is the recipient and we feel bad for him. I mean, I do feel bad for him. Faber is in a bad place psychologically, it's a horrible thing for him to experience.

If we were getting Lucien's story from his perspective, and saw the panic attacks he had afterwards, and the regression he went through, etc. it might be different. But it doesn't have to be! Lucien in that moment functions as a reality check for Faber, and a very effective one at that. We're meant to hate him, but also meant to understand that Faber's love for Caleb is not as subtle as he thinks it is in the sense that - omegas can see it for what it is.

I personally like the one moment where we see that Lucien might have a heart when Faber admits his parents are dead, and we can see that he doesn't react with savage satisfaction, but like Faber broke the narrative he'd built for himself in his own insecure, jealous, scared mind.

[honeygrahambitch]

Came across a poll regarding who the best therapist in Hannibal nbc is and I just want to ask if the people who voted for Alana Bloom are talking about the Alana Bloom in the series