#which is why I'm manifesting my own content
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callixspod · 2 months ago
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Your affection. [Read ID]
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might make an animatic out of this BUT!! here's more of my brain blasted insanities. Rambles of "I<3U" AU below here ↓
What began as a simple one off story about a living digital consciousness inside a video game to be implemented on Persona 4, and their unused game files hidden behind folders, left to collect dust. But it still remains, waiting for anyone to discover it.
I can't put on the details on how Yosuke even gained sentience, but I can tell you now that this AU simply took place on Persona 4 Vanilla. (Not golden. As much as it has its own content I will be sticking with its roots. So yes, Yosuke didn't own/bought a motorcycle. That event never happened.) Hanamura's odd behavior only happened when the Player bought the game with a specific player ID. So their gameplay experience will be on their perspective of how this one character manages to know, everything about them. Also slightly close to creepypastas which, I loved. Huhu.
This can be seen as a Yume or Souyo ship perspective so pick your poison
Now it's time for Yosuke's unique behavior towards the player when they progress the game. His depraved ass was already set to go off when the player was given the option to pick miscellaneous interactions between the characters, mostly to follow up Yosuke's questions or any one of the investigation team to mention anything about Yosuke. The options being "What kind of girls do you prefer?", "Looking great [insert name]" or the famous "Which ones are you looking forward to see in a swimsuit"
If you're like me and didn't indulge on having a romantic subchoice to any of the members, that's where it triggers the start of a few bugs and glitches manifested behind the scenes, fuelling the code until it couldn't automatically run on itself, but from something else manually taking over. Manifesting the game to not coordinate with its ordered storyline, changing the system to be primarily more unique than others.
When Yosuke only appears for a few days on the weekend, suddenly his model would stand in position to a day that he was not meant to show up. He was meant to show up on a Sunday. So why was he here out in daylight on a Saturday? Other strange occurrences are if whenever Yosuke was on scene, closeups and corrupted texts would come in to reach out to the Player, sending a message that only he and the other side of the screen can see.
Now his normal dialogue never wound up to show from the screen, simply replaced with vague, short-ended questions asking them if "Are you there?" "Can you hear me?" "I can't see you, but I can still hear your voice." "Will you show me someday?" That last part was not a suggestion. Really demanding, hard for him to know he'll be left alone all over again if the Player turns off their game, aw :( And he keeps remembering the shit I gave to you even when I didn't need some of them.
So that's it? I think??? 😭 There will be more, later I'm rlly tired.
until then, have what's served on this 4 stat Yelp restaurant.
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ukeshik · 3 months ago
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Armin Arlert x fem.reader
TW: 18+ content, first experience(for both), loud sex, light femdom (in beginning), handjob, cumshot, kunilingus, very sweet, soft and gentle, SOOOOO comfort
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unproofed
"Oh my God.... Ah... this is.... Mmm, ha...." from his barely parted lips, these moans came out, so sweet, so pleasant and affectionate. His high-pitched voice just went through your body and stayed there, making you already squeeze your legs from the excitement you were starting to feel at that moment. You didn't understand how a person's voice could be like that, how sounds could flow through the air, envelop you, sink into your ears, making you shiver through your whole body. That's exactly what Armin's moans were like. Sweet as wild flower honey, which stretches down in a trickle, folding in smooth steps.
Guess you just ran out of patience. You are tired of this cute boy looking too beautiful and sexy, and absolutely denies it, which is why you can't get any more pleasure from him than hugs and kisses. Although you're sure that he could use it all the time and fuck the whole city if he wanted, just by looking at some girl with his big clear eyes and winking after her.
You just liked boys who cum. Especially thin, light-skinned boys who quietly (although it seemed to you, being in an empty room in which there were no other sounds, that he was doing it insanely loudly) moan under your hands, their cock twitches from their own excitement, and the head beats against a flat stomach, on which his muscles are so beautifully manifested, the moment you let go of their length, leaving them just twitching.
You and he didn't have any experience before. Apart from jerking off in the middle of the night when both were thinking about each other. But it was enough for you just to see Armin with a morning boner once to clearly decide that you fucking want this guy. Even though he was not the tallest, not the strongest build (although his body definitely had muscles, the military department definitely worked on his body), Arlert still seemed very hot to you. Too much. And what you saw that morning made you almost ache with desire.
So now you were sitting in a chair across from Armin, sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the blankets with your palms while you tightly squeezed his throbbing cock. He squeezed his eyes shut and his cheeks burned red because he still couldn't come to terms with his nakedness.
His brown trousers and boxers were pulled down to his ankles, and a white short-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned and open, which hung on his elbows because he did not have the strength to take it off completely, and it was the only thing that somehow covered him.
You never thought that you would feel so calm, so open during your first time, and even more so to be in charge of this process. But when you met a partner like Armin, you realized that you would definitely dominate. You had enough confidence to make this boy moan with pleasure and cum.
So in the beginning, when you were just sitting on his bed and he kissed you, lightly touching you with his lips, gently holding your head in his hands, stroking your soft cheeks with his thumbs, and then you suggested... doing something more serious. And then you slowly moved your lips from his lips to his cheek, down to the sharp line of his jaw, smoothly flowing to his neck, gently kissed the trembling adam's apple. "Would you like me to... well, we... something more intimate." at the moment, you were a little lost and didn't know what to say. You wanted to get permission from Armin first, and only then act, because if he's not ready for this yet, you definitely didn't want to put pressure on him. "No, I... I absolutely don't mind, sweet, I've always wanted it, and you're amazing, and I always want you, I mean, I... only if you want to, but you might be disappointed, and I'm afraid of that, and..." Arlert rattled off all this quickly, looking away from you, clearly not expecting you to immediately start unbuttoning his shirt and talking about how handsome and amazing he is.
He involuntarily tried to squeeze his legs when you began to slowly and carefully take off his pants and gray boxers, but your knees between them prevented this. Armin was burning all over, his skin was insanely hot, and his face was red: his cheeks, nose, and ears were on fire. "Sweet, you don't have to...." cover your face when his erect, damn hard cock is in the air and in your sight. He wanted to just pull his pants back on and run away, or just cover his aroused organ with his hands, but at the same time... he wanted it so much. "Armin. The sun." you began to speak softly, slightly rising from the chair on which you were sitting so that your face was in front of him, to make it seem as if you did not see his trembling cock, but only looked into his eyes. "You're amazing. You look absolutely gorgeous. You have nothing to be shy about, you look very beautiful, just incredible."
Now you squeezed his length harder and moved your hand faster up and down, immediately seeing this reaction: how his mouth opened, how his blond eyelashes fluttered, and the pelvic muscles tensed even more. "Sweet, I can't... o my gosh, ah..." Armin couldn't speak clearly, he was constantly breaking down into moans and heavy breaths of air. "it's too... too good..."
He was so damn sensitive. Too much. When you just touched his bulge in his pants, Armin had already jumped on the spot. His nerve endings couldn't handle it because no one had touched him in such places before. Although, he had almost the same reaction to your every touch. The way you ran your hand over his abs after you unbuttoned his shirt, the way you played with the skin above the edge of his boxers, causing his hips to tremble in a spasm.
And you definitely didn't expect Arlert to be so responsive. He absolutely couldn't hold back his moans, because for all the time that you were playing with his cock, he didn't stop talking for a second. You thought that Armin would be as silent and not involved in the process as possible, but... he exceeded all his expectations.
"It seems to me... mmmm, ah... if you continue the same way, I will finish soon..." Armin chirped softly, in his high voice, opening his eyes for a second, but as soon as he saw you running your hand over his slippery cock, collecting from above the head what had managed to flow out of him, when he saw your face in front of him, and with what a soft smile and gentle eyes you looked at him, he immediately closed his eyes back, letting out another moan, this time much louder.
When you heard his words, you slowed down and began to move your hand again in very slow movements, going down to his balls for a long time, and back up to the tip, running your thumb along the urethra. Damn, he had such a beautiful dick. Not huge, absolutely normal, good size, slightly curved, with a bright pink head that you wanted to try to lick, see how this boy would react to it, how he would cover his face with his long fingers and moan again in his sweet voice.
«Sweet, it’s… oh, you…” Armin really couldn't connect two words. He was really just basking in the pleasure that you gave him. When you saw this, you accelerated again and thought that you could already let him finish. You've already tormented him with your gentle soft hands long enough to make him suffer even more. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would come much sooner. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would cum much sooner. Probably because according to your ideas, if he does something similar to you, you will cum in less than ten minutes. «love, you… ah….!”
Your hand movements became much tougher and faster, and Armin almost fell back onto the sheets, unable to cope with it. You wanted to see this: how he cums, how his mouth opens in a final moan, and his hot sperm sprays from the tip of his cock, staining his stomach and chest, going down from the tip over your fingers.
"ahhh, it's too good, toogoodforme, I'm coming soon, ah, there are napkins on the table..." Armin muttered quickly, whose thighs were shaking from the imminent orgasm. Damn it, this boy was even thinking about you at such a moment, that suddenly it would be unpleasant for you to feel his discharge in this form.
You looked at those napkins and, continuing to jerk off his hard smooth cock, reached for the napkins with one hand, solely in order to wipe his body later so that he would definitely feel comfortable. You definitely weren't going to let him cum on a napkin. You wanted to see it in all its glory. You wanted Armin to see it for himself and understand that there is nothing wrong with it, and that he just has to enjoy the moment and feel his sexuality and beauty.
«I’m..I'm cumming, sweet, take a napkin... oh, my God!" accelerating to the maximum pace, you even grabbed the edge of the table standing next to you on the side, making final movements, after which Armin's muscles shook, and these high, such sweet loud guttural moans escaped from your chest, from which you yourself almost cum.
Arlert was surprised when he realized that you didn't move to take something in order to collect his secretions, and he wanted to do it on his own, but he couldn't do anything anymore, because the orgasm hit him so abruptly and so hard that his arms just gave way and he fell on his back. From the tip of his cock, his white, warm sperm flew out in a strong stream, staining his lower abdomen, flowing into his navel, reaching almost to his chest. Now he absolutely couldn't hold back, forgetting that the neighbors could hear him.
When the main wave of his orgasm passed, his cum began to flow down your cock and down your arm. For the first time, you felt the warmth of sperm, as a thick liquid envelops your fingers. When Armin calmed down more or less, his voice subsided, and his cock stopped spewing secretions, you let go of your hand from his cock, and just looked at your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was breathing very heavily, his chest heaving with each deep breath that his sharp ribs began to show under the skin. His eyes were still closed, and his mouth was wide open, frozen in a silent moan.
«sweet, oh my god… ah…. It was… gosh, it was so good... it's so amazing, babe, you did it so good...” Armin muttered softly, trying to recover from this. It was definitely his best and strongest orgasm of his entire life.
"I know, honey. You did a very good job too. You were very good, honey." you said softly as his cum dripped from your fingers onto his sheet. It was the first time you made a boy cum. And for the first time, when you saw cum live. And you wanted to try it. You knew about what it was like approximately, but…
 Without warning, you bent down and just licked the hot red tip of his cock, collecting all the juices that remained and the tops. You felt this unusual taste, felt the warmth of his flesh. You felt what kind of skin is on the cock, what kind of taste and temperature it is, how smooth and pliable it is.
«sweet…? Are you.. oh gosh-“ at first, Armin didn't understand what was going on with his cock, because it definitely wasn't your gentle fingers, but something else, softer, hotter and wet.... "You don't have to...! Ah, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, babe, you..." a little panic seized him, but it was too good for him to say anything else. It's unlikely he'll be able to come after that, but just feeling your tongue on him was already something divine.
When you let go of his cock from your hands and mouth, you straightened up, and while Armin was recovering, you just looked at him. It seemed to you that this was the best view in the world that you could see. How his discharge glitters in the light from the lamp on the table, the result of his pleasure, how it looks on his toned muscles, how his cock fell exhausted on his stomach....
"Oh God, I'm sorry, it's... such a mess, didn't mean to..." Armin began to mutter softly when he finally opened his eyes and tried to sit back down, and saw what he had done. You just sat mesmerized, holding your hand on his hip, and couldn't get enough of the sight. Only then did you realize what he was talking about.
You knew that you really needed to put him in order a little, but ... at first you just bent down and wrapped your arm around his neck, gently kissed him, touching the boy's lips. At first, Armin was taken aback, but only then was he finally able to relax and gently answer you, with his eyes closed, gently crushing your lips between his own. "I love you, Armin. You did great. It was just amazing..." you whispered softly into his lips, now afraid to open your eyes to look at him. You cherished this moment too much to lose it.
"And I love you too, sweet. It was... very good. Very much." Arlert replied softly, feeling the cum trickle down his stomach. "But... babe, let me return the favor. Let me please you." You, focused on getting your boy to cum, completely forgot that he might want to... give you credit too. You didn't think at all that Armin would want to please you too.
You just nodded your head, not knowing what to say. A little panic has arisen in you because this will also be the first time when someone forces you to have an orgasm. But when Armin clung to your lips again, gently tasting them, feeling his salinity on them, you relaxed, and just gave yourself up to feelings, deciding to move with the flow.
Arlert briefly interrupted the kiss to take a napkin and wipe off the remnants of his pleasure, but as soon as it was over, he gently pulled you back to him, kissing you gently, gently, lightly running his tongue over your lower lip. Armin pulled you to him, grabbing you under his arm, and you were about to move onto his lap, but he wouldn't let you do it, instead laying you on the bed.
After making sure that you were comfortably settled on the mattress, Armin clung to you again, kissing you more confidently, more deeply and passionately. His tongue made its way into your mouth and gently intertwined with your own, feeling your and his saliva in your mouth, which was already just starting to flow out of their mouths, staining their lips and chins. Meanwhile, the boy managed to pull his Boxers and pants back on, as he still felt very embarrassed about his nakedness, although he left them unbuttoned.
After enjoying your lips enough, Armin began to slowly descend down your delicate chin to your sweet neck, exploring it with his lips and tongue. He ran his lips along the front of your throat, moved to the rapidly pulsating vein, running his tongue over them, and went further closer to your ear, and when he noticed that you twitched when he touched a specific place under your ear, where the cervical ligament was, he stayed there, paying more attention to this place attention. I kissed him gently, ran my tongue over him, gently bit him, feeling how your hips clenched from his touch, and barely audible moans escaped from your mouth, which you tried so hard to restrain.
Armin has remembered this place for the future and will always kiss you there. Long and sweet. But now he has reached the edge of the collar of your soft hoodie (or rather, it was once his hoodie, because only now he realized that he had not been able to find one of the same gray one for a long time), burying his face in it to reach your bulging collarbones. "Can I... take it off? Armin asked softly, briefly tearing himself away from your skin to look at you and hear your permission.
 It was only when he heard you say yes to him that he hooked his fingers around the edge of the hoodie and gently began to lift it up. You deliberately sat up on the bed so that it would be easier for him to take off this hoodie that is not needed at the moment, and fell back onto the mattress with a heavy exhale, looking at Armin towering over your body, sitting on his knees between your legs.
Before he could cling back to your body, his spirit had already been intercepted. Damn it, you were still dressed, in your buggy jeans and a soft bra that hugged your breasts so beautifully... Armin swallowed hard and leaned back towards you, gently tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbones and chest. "You look amazing, sweet.” He murmured softly, sucking on the skin under your collarbone, feeling your chest rise with every breath. God, he wanted to taste those sweet peaks so much, they looked so good wrapped in a bra fabric. It seemed to him that his cock was starting to harden again, but he was not ready for another orgasm.
Having thoroughly enjoyed your upper part of the skin, Armin continued to go down, passing between your breasts with sweet kisses, stopping on your soft stomach, kissing every inch of the skin. He noticed how the muscles of your pelvis began to tremble when he passed his lips over the skin closer to the lower abdomen, above the edge of your jeans.
"Can I..." Armin was about to ask, but was immediately interrupted by you, who wrapped her palm around his forearm, "Hey, Armin. You can do anything to me. You don't have to ask my permission every time. You can do anything." You said softly, gently stroking his sinewy forearm.
Looking into his clear blue eyes, his rosy cheeks, you felt only love and a slight excitement, just because you got just such a man. He was so good. Hearing your words, Armin nodded weakly, moved his hands to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them with slightly trembling fingers. Taking hold of the edge, he began to take them off you, and you lifted your hips up for convenience, allowing your beloved to take off the bottom.
It seemed to him that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. When he saw your breasts in a bra, he was ready to faint, but when you lifted your hips while he was pulling off your jeans, seeing your simple underwear, how your pubic bone bulges, seeing your pelvic bones, seeing the place where your clit should be, just the place where your pussy is... oh my God....
Swallowing hard, Armin tossed your jeans onto the chair where your hoodie was already lying. It took him a few deep breaths to decide to keep moving on. After kissing your fragile knee several times, he spoke again. "sweet... if you don't want to, I can stop and..."
You really appreciated Armin's care. You appreciated it very much, and loved him for it with all your soul. But at that moment, you just wanted to roll your eyes, and for him to act more confidently and decisively. "Armin." you said his name more firmly, looking at him with wide eyes. Of course, you felt a little nervous, lying in front of a guy already almost naked. "I so fucking want you. And I've already said that you can do whatever you think is necessary. I already told you: yes." you answered in a gentle voice, slightly rising on your forearms, while Armin silently listened to you.
"Okay, okay, I get it." He muttered, a little embarrassed. But it was already damn hard for him to see you in just your underwear, which now he will have to take off you, see you completely naked, and also... oh my God, that stain on your panties. A wet spot. Everything inside him shrank, both his insides and his hearts. It took all his courage to lean back towards you.
"Then we need to... take this off too," Armin said softly, sliding his hands under your back to unbutton your bra. His heart was pounding madly as he clumsily stretched the fasteners, and when he did, he was afraid to move on, pull the straps off your fragile shoulders and expose your chest. Armin just hung up, so you sat down on the bed again, and took it off yourself, throwing it on a chair with the rest of the things, looking straight into his eyes.
It seems his heart just stopped at that moment. When you confidently threw your bra aside and stood in front of him in this form, he really tried to look you in the eye, but as soon as you lay back again, his gaze dropped to your breasts, and he could not look away. Their beautiful roundness, softness and protruding soft nipples drove him crazy. Then Armin clearly told himself that he would not back down tonight. And never again.
Although you acted confidently, you shrank inside yourself. It's the first time you've let a guy see your breasts. You knew you looked good, very good, but seeing Armin's stunned look, how lost he looked at the moment, how his cheeks flushed even more, you shrank inside. Relaxation came to you when Arlert was getting old. "Sweet... you look incredible… you are amazing..." Armin murmured with delight, and leaned towards you again, quickly kissing your lips.
He realized that he shouldn't slow down so much and be too careful. Therefore, after gently kissing you, Armin went down again and ... after looking at your breasts for a few more seconds, he gently kissed the skin between your breasts, feeling your natural smell. Damn it, it felt too good. You smelled just great, and you looked the same. "you look very beautiful... very..." Armin murmured softly and continued to kiss your chest.
He again liked the huge amount of strength to decide to move to your chest fully. Finally, he slowly moved to one of the halves, gently kissing the halos of your mammary glands, after which he got to the nipple itself, gently kissing its tip, which caused you to twitch your whole body, and a quiet moan came out of your mouth. Armin just barely touched you, and you were already reacting like this. Although, to be honest, you were ready to cum right now, even when Armin hadn't even had time to touch your pussy yet.
"Is everything okay? Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" Armin immediately began to ask excitedly, immediately tearing himself away from your surface and looking at your face. He was really worried that he might be doing something wrong and that you didn't like it.
"everything is... just great. Stunningly. Armin, please don't worry, you're doing everything just perfectly..." you replied in a weak voice, just wishing Armin's lips were in that place again.
After hearing your words, he finally realized that your slight cramp and moans were just confirmation that you felt good from his touch. This clearly gave Armin an incentive and he began to feel much more confident, which is why he immediately returned his lip to your breast and gently cupped your nipple. Having crushed it in his lips, he gently licked it, tasting you. It was really sweet, and so pleasant, so soft and good, for him and for you in particular.
He lightly rubbed your nipple with his tongue, moving it up and down, after which he gently kissed the top again and wrapped his lips around your breast much more confidently, sucking your skin and nipples into himself, and released it from his mouth with a loud squelch. Seeing that you like it, Armin moved on to your other half of your chest, running a wet trail of kisses along the middle of your chest.
The thought that soon he would touch your innermost middle, see and touch this pussy, these labia, clit and hole, it all haunted him and he was really just afraid. But when he saw how you bent under his touch, how your back bent slightly while he played with your tender nipples with his tongue, how quiet moans flew out of your chest, how his name flew from your tongue tip, Armin realized that he was doing everything right, you like everything and you definitely want it.
So slowly, with his heart pounding madly in his chest, Arlert began to slowly descend down to your stomach again. Leaving another huge portion of kisses on your skin, on your ribs, above your navel, under your navel, at the edge of your modest cotton panties, which made you twitch violently. Armin even stopped because of this, raising his eyes to you again, as if asking if everything was okay, but... you were just so damn sensitive that your muscles started to shudder just from touching the lower abdomen, on the muscles closer to the pubis, and you couldn't do anything about it. Your body just trembled and shuddered from touching in these places. "It's okay. This is... normal. It's just... too good for me." you replied softly, after which he continued to move on.
Slightly lowering himself down on the bed, Armin settled himself comfortably between your legs and began to conduct a gentle path of kisses starting from your knee down your leg to the inside of your thigh, making you tremble and squirm under his touch. You really couldn't do anything about it, you couldn't control how your legs were very visibly shaking because of all this, especially when Armin lightly sucked the skin of your thigh, and his head accidentally poked the top of your pussy, which almost made you jump.
God, Armin was going crazy while kissing your hips. They were so soft, so gentle, and you were... so worked up. You was as responsive to all touch as he was. But it gave him a lot of confidence, knowing that you were reacting like that, and that you really only felt pleasure from it all. And when he saw it clearly on your cables, which only got bigger while the tone was kissing your body, he was ready to just pass out on the spot.
And being so dangerously close to your crotch, he felt. Damn it, he could smell your pussy and his head was blurry because of it.
"God, you smell stunning, sweet.” Armin muttered thoughtlessly into the skin of your thigh, completely not expecting that he would be able to utter such an obscenity out loud. Once he got a taste, he couldn't wait to taste this pussy, taste it, find out how her skin felt, how smooth and hot it was. And when you heard these words from Armin's mouth, you just opened your mouth in a silent moan, because it sounded so damn hot....
Your heart started beating even faster when you realized that soon Armin would touch you there. You were already madly aching with desire, your whole body was on fire, and between your legs was just crazy, so your clit craved touching it. You were ready to cum from the very first touches, you were so excited all the time while you were jerking off Armin's cock, and he was kissing your body.
Remembering that you told him that he could do whatever he wanted and that he didn't need permission to do anything, Armin only raised his eyes to yours for a second to get your tacit confirmation that he could take off your panties and start... What you and he have been waiting for.
"Lift your hips for me, sweet..." Armin muttered in a quiet, drunken voice because of you, hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties, and when you really lifted your hips to help pull off the last piece of clothing, Armin just closed his eyes, unable to look at your core, which was exposed in front of him, as soon as he pulled the fabric of the panties down to your knees, and then pulled them off completely, throwing them somewhere to the side when you lifted your legs up and helped him take them off.
When the last piece of fabric that somehow covered you disappeared, you wanted to bring your legs together and close up, but Armin's body, located between your legs, did not allow you to do this, so your ankles just rested on his shoulders, and your knees squeezed his head. Probably, it was after that that Armin was able to open his eyes and see your pussy shining because of the lubricant that had leaked out all this time, and he thought that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Because it only took him a few seconds to look at your pussy, enjoy the view of it, see the pea of the clit, and then furiously cling to your pussy with his mouth. He didn't even have to massage your clit with his fingers before that, so that the lubricant was released and there were no exclusively those alkaline secretions that remained in the vagina, you were already fucking wet.
Your back arched in a crazy arc when Armin finally lowered his head between your legs. It was too pleasant. First, he ran his tongue all over your pussy, licked the soft folds of your outer and inner labia, tasting your sweet-sour juices. But when Armin made his way further inside, and more confidently ran a soft tongue over your burning clit, it made you just howl and grab the sheets, squeezing them in your fingers, while loud moans escaped from your chest, which you could not restrain.
According to some videos from the Internet, he remembered that girls prefer either slow, sweeping movements with their whole tongue, or fast and sharp with the tip of a hard tongue. Armin realized a long time ago that porn videos cannot be trusted, so he tried to rely on other knowledge, but now, feeling panic because he did not know how to do everything right, and the great pleasure that he himself gives pleasure to someone, Armin decided to try everything.
And while he was trying to taste you, he ran his tongue in slow circles over your clit, feeling how it throbbed and how hot it was. It was clearly a little swollen and slightly raised, so this sweet clit was very pleasant and comfortable to lick.
Armin had never thought that giving pleasure to someone was so pleasant, even better than having fun. Because your moans, the way you squirmed under his tongue, the way your legs trembled was much more satisfying than when you made him come. No, of course, he liked it too, but knowing that you felt good, good because of him, was much better. So he tried his best. He was looking for the best way to lick your clit: he swung his tongue flat on it, sucked it with his lips, releasing it with a loud sound, and quickly clicked it with the tip of his tongue. But it seems that you responded insanely strongly to everything. Just because you couldn't hold back. But…
Damn it, you came too fast. It took you less than five minutes of Armin's tongue moving on yourself before you grabbed his hair and came as hard as you've never come in your life. No hands, no fingers. This is all due to your overexcitation and high sensitivity, because you were definitely not used to touching in such places. But it was definitely something you could get used to.
"Yes, yes... honey, yes, that's it.... Faster..." you muttered softly when you realized that your orgasm was already approaching. You grabbed his hair, involuntarily pulling his head closer to you while your hips squeezed his head on the sides. You couldn't leave your legs apart, just because they were shaking too much and coming together on their own, every time Armin ran his tongue over your clit or hole, picking up another portion of your lubricant.
After hearing your words, Armin continued to pull your clit with the tip of his tongue and lips with confident firm movements, putting all his strength and emotions into it. While he was shamelessly licking you, his hands wrapped around you under your hips, gently stroking them, periodically flowing to your soft stomach, running his fingertips over your pelvic bones and under your navel. You were so soft and gentle, smelling delicious and just incredibly amazing.
When you stopped talking and only grabbed his hair roots harder, squeezing his head with your hips even harder and falling silent, somehow Armin realized that at this moment he needed to move even better. Therefore, his tongue moved more actively on your clit, and his hands clung to your hips, leaving red finger marks on them. All you could hear was heavy breathing in and out, very heavy, as if you were struggling with something, and soon it made itself felt.
The orgasm has overwhelmed you. In principle, you have always experienced quite strong orgasms yourself, but what you have experienced now... It was growing fast in you and everything was getting ready to burst into crazy sparks, which happened. It went dark in front of your eyes, and a mindless, insane pleasure spread through your body, and you squeezed your legs even harder to feel it better. you completely forgot that Armin was still there, who kept licking your current pussy, but damn.... When you collapsed back onto the bed and finally let out a loud exhale with moans, because while you were feeling all this, you just weren't breathing. It was too much. It feels like you blacked out for a few seconds because everything was still swimming in front of your eyes.
It was only when your body, your legs completely relaxed, and fell exhausted onto the mattress that Armin stopped. He looked up at your almost immobilized body, only your chest was rising high with your breathing while you were trying to catch your breath from orgasm. It seemed as if you couldn't move, your muscles relaxed so much after that.
"My God, Armin..." you muttered only after a minute or more, and then barely audibly, because you had no strength, absolutely nothing. "This is... this is... fucking, this is too good." you managed to squeeze out of yourself with your eyes closed, trying to move at least your hand.
"You're amazing, babe. It's incredible." Armin replied softly, and finally got up, getting out of your legs, leaving a kiss on your knee, on your stomach, on your neck and on your forehead along the way, after which he moved over and lay down next to you, pressing his forehead against your temple.
282 notes · View notes
m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago
Note
Hello,
I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.
I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.
If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.
If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).
You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!
Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷
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── THE INSTRUMENT
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Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.
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Event Masterlist
Pairing: Kaiser x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 6.8k
Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…
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A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
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It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.
“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”
He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have — it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?
“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”
He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”
“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.
“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”
“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”
“I could say the same to you,” he says.
“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”
“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”
“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”
“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”
“And what did you think?” you say.
“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.
“I was talking about my movies,” you say.
“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.
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I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.
It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.
Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.
But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.  
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He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.
She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first. 
“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.
“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.
They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.
“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.
“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.
“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.
“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind. 
“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.
“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.
“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.
“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.
“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”
“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”
He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.
“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”
He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.
When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first. 
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Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.
“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.
“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”
Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.
“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”
“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.
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It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.
“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.
“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you. 
“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.
“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say. 
The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.
That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.
“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.
“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.
“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.
The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”
In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.
“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.
“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”
It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.
Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.
“Hello?” you say.
“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”
“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”
“Fuck if I know.”
Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways. 
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Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume. 
Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.
It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be. 
“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.
“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.
“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” you say. 
Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.
“Your father likes him, too,” your mother said. 
“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.
You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.
You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.
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You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter. 
“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky. 
“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.
“But you despise roses,” you say.
“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”
That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding. 
You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by. 
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There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.
There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.
“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.
“Hm,” he says.
“She’s a jerk,” you say. 
“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.
“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.
“You can do whatever you want,” he says.
“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”
“Yes?” he says.
“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”
“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”
He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.
“Yes?” you say.
“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”
“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”
“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.
“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.
“I know how movies are made,” he says.
“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.
“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says. 
“Was?” you say.
“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”
“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.
“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.” 
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Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.
According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.
“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”
“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”
“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”
“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”
He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”
The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.
He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.
“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.
“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.
“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently. 
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You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up. 
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“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality. 
He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you. 
“What?” he says. You shrug.
“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.
“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”
“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized. 
He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.
“No, you don’t,” he says.
“I don’t what?” you say.
“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.
“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”
“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”
You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”
“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”
“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”
“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”
“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”
“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”
“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”
“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”
“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”
It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.
“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”
“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.
“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”
He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”
“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.
“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”
“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”
He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.
“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”
“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”
“They prick your fingers,” he says.
“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”
He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”
You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.
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You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.
When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.
There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.
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aphrodieties · 1 year ago
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Personification—a challenge
My understanding of the Law of Assumption has significantly evolved since I started this blog about five months ago, I’ve decided to review and revise the contents of my account, and I thought about the many different ways that I could convey my new understanding of the Law of Assumption and decided that the best way would be through a fun challenge! I took inspiration from @divinegrapes’ "Operation Revive the Law of Assumption community"
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Hello, I am Amphitrite—better known as Aphrodieties and I will be your host for this one-week challenge! I will introduce to you some fundamental topics for understanding this challenge and completing it successfully;
Understanding consciousness
Creation is finished
Consciousness is the only reality
The Relationship between Greek Gods and the Law of Assumption
The Challenge
Understanding consciousness
The definition of consciousness is difficult to explain as the term has been recycled and reused by a variety of different manifestation communities and each variation of the word, means something completely different. Consciousness can refer to the subconscious mind, universe, god, imagination, or reality depending on who you ask, but I propose a simpler definition—consciousness is awareness, that's all. Consciousness implies being awake or awakened to an inner realization of a fact, a truth, or a condition. Here's a little example for you, If I am sick, I must be conscious of the fact that I am unwell and I am conscious of this because I FEEL IT. I feel sick, and I am conscious of the fact that I am sick, and thus I am sick. When I refer to consciousness, I am referring to awareness, and that is what it means to be.
Creation is finished
Creation is finished is the idea that all things exist simultaneously; creation is finished is fundamental to the Law of Assumption and the success of an individual in their journey—wish fulfilled, Sabbath state, and living in the end, all entertain the idea that creation is finished. If everything already exists, then what is there to manifest? Creation is finished and all things exist within consciousness, If you can conceptualize it then it must exist, and therefore all you must do is become aware of such.
Consciousness is the only reality
We can only experience that which we are conscious of being; “Man is incapable of seeing other than the contents of his own consciousness. If I now become detached in consciousness from this room by turning my attention away from it, then, I am no longer conscious of it. There is something in me that devours it within me. It can only live within my objective world if I keep it alive within my consciousness." — Neville Goddard, Consciousness is the only reality
This doesn't mean that we aren't real and everything is an illusion—it means that if something exists within our objective world, then we must be conscious of it. Not as the outer man, no, it doesn't matter what the outer man sees, hears, smells, touches, or tastes because the outer man is helpless, the outer man cannot create or be anything other than what the inner man is conscious of being. Consciousness is the only reality and I mean the only reality! You are helpless as the outer man and you cannot control the world, and that's where most of you go wrong. You have no power as the outer man and you have no power in this world because consciousness is the only reality and that's why there is nothing and no one to change but self. Let go of control and control within. — I’m sure that you can tell that this passage is heavily inspired by @/sexyandhedonistic and @/Edwardart
The relationship between Greek Gods and the Law of Assumption
I'm sure some of you may recognize this from an older post of mine, which I've archived but—One might wonder about the relationship between Greek mythology and The Law of Assumption, these two topics seem to drastically contradict one another. However, that's not exactly true; Greek Gods are the personification of the natural world and the experience within, and personification is the representation of a thing, abstraction, or inanimate object as a person. This is very similar to what we talk about in the Law of Assumption community regarding; States, imagination, conceptualization, experiencing, and being. For example; A common misconception about Greek Mythology is that Apollo is the god of the sun and Artemis is the goddess of the moon, but that's not true exactly—Helios is the sun and Selene is the moon, Artemis and Apollo merely utilizes those domains. Apollo is sunlight and enlightenment but not the sun itself and Artemis was heavily associated with the moon because she used its light to guide hunters through the night. Another example would be Persephone, she's not the Goddess OF Spring—she IS spring. The personification of it.
This is what it means to occupy a state, what it means to conceptualize, experience, and, or be. If you wish to be something then you must be conscious of being that which you desire, similar to Persephone—she is not the Goddess of spring but spring itself, it is her and she is it. To imagine is to experience, similar to Apollo and Artemis who experience the sun and the moon.
The challenge
This challenge lasts for about a week and you can start whenever you wish. We talk a lot about not conditioning our desires and removing rules but this is an exception, There are some things you must do that are necessary to participate in this challenge.
The first rule would be to be indifferent toward the 3D, let's not place any weight on our actions in the physical world because this isn't about the physical, and there is no one and nothing to change but self. I don't mean to ignore your responsibilities or obligations, I mean to not view them as confirmation of anything. If you are manifesting Blue hair and you look in the mirror and your hair is black, continue throughout your day as if nothing happened. You don't need to affirm the opposite or try to logicize why your hair is still Black when you're manifesting it to be blue, You don't need to tell yourself, "My inner man has blue hair" or "My hair is blue in imagination" continue to live as you’ve always done and just remain faithful to the imagination.
The second rule would be to personify consciousness, decide what you want, and personify it. Yes, this applies even if you have multiple desires as mythological Gods often presided over multiple domains—you can create your own personification or become aware of being one that already exists, For example; I want to manifest Talent and health—I might become conscious of being Apollo, as he’s the personification of such things. I might create my own personification; (y/n), personification of talent and health. Either way, I am conscious of being that which I formerly desired, and it doesn't have to be a Greek God either! I want to manifest beauty—I become conscious of being Narcissus, I conceptualize and experience; I fall in love with a reflection of myself in a lake and I am simply enamored with my own beauty, I feel it, and therefore I am.
Third, trust in self, always. Do not question if you're doing something right or continuously start over and try to perfect the technique, You don't need to meticulously plan anything either. The goal is feeling and if you feel anything then you're doing it right.
And finally—have fun and update me! I want to know who you’ve all chosen as the personification of your desires and who you’ve decided to be conscious of being!
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goddessxeffect · 1 year ago
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« INTRO: AWAKEN TO (YOUR)SELF »
A BEGINNERS GUIDE TO ALL THINGS CONSCIOUSNESS
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This blog used to be a journal in the process of self realization of it's creator but has yet turned out to be a collection of sources and information guiding you too on your way back to your true Being. It all started with the question: “Who are you really?” and the realization that reality is not what it seems. I'm at a point now where I do not follow any teachings or concepts anymore nor did I consent in strictly deviding law of assumption from non dualism in the past. Nowadays, I see myself as an advocate for Self-realization. That being said, I really want to distance myself from any "new age manifestation/law of assumption" (do this to get xyz) teachings practised on youtube or tiktok.
I did create my own content in the past but stopped because there is nothing new to say and my understanding has deepened. Posts and annotations written by me are easily recognisable by my typical colour code, which is obviously displayed here. I only answer questions for understanding or clarification, guidelines here.
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HOW TO START
Advaita Vendata (Non Dualism): an Introduction
Core of non dual understanding
youtube
If everything is consciousness, I am everything and everything is me? I still feel like "me", I don't feel like god of my reality How to become aware(ness) How to control the thoughts How to be free from emotions and thoughts Stop concerning yourself with the wants and needs of Ego How to loose attachment to Ego What you really are How to be Consciousness/ Awareness
In the end, the only question remaining should be who you are without all the labels attached to "I am". You will come to discover you do not want freedom from this shape alone, but from all shapes. Be aware of your past being over. "External world shows otherwise? Just be like "for how long do you think it can keep this up when you have nothing to do with it?" @Ada
youtube
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MY CONTENT/ EPIPHANIES
You can experience pain in your life but you don’t have to ‘suffer’ the pain.”  - Anon I mus
#masterpost, #goddessawakening
» Mosaic » Be yourself first »"Manifesting" » Freedom » Being » Why everbody misinterprets Self concept » Is there a real difference? »Misidentification » Consciousness & Limitation » No others » Question Reality » Missing » Ego & Time
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ADDITIONAL MATERIAL
... what to find on my blog through the tags
Advise/FAQs: Koda, Nova, iam-you, Cassie, Bry, Jag, Vesora, Lain, more What is Ego? How it feels to be Self / Awareness All on Self Realization and Detachment All on LOA trough a non dualistic view Books
If you still want to focus on "getting your desires" after been through all the info, search Neville Goddard (all his books and lectures). If you have a hard time understanding Neville, I advise some people who break down his teachings in a short and modern way of speaking: Edward Art (Reddit(Series), Audio), embodythestate, niclasupgradetolife, Josiah Brandt on YouTube
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jesncin · 3 months ago
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Chimera Constantine breakdown, refs & nods mega-post
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Welcome to the master post of behind the scenes for the Chimera Constantine comics. In the style of the Sons of Mars ones I made, this post archives our research and process. So here we go! This will be a mix of showing references and personal anecdotes for how we cobbled this project together.
I'll be repeating some things I've mentioned across blog posts because I like having all this info in one place.
So! There's a lot of ways to go about re-interpretation and re-imagining a story, and one of my techniques is to not get overly attached to research. While it's good to be informed about a character, sometimes knowing every little thing about them can make one hesitant to innovate and try something different with them. So I'm purposely mindful about how much material I research.
But how does something like that work when the character in question has only 2-3 total appearances, one arc, and a quick revisit several years later? We play twin telephone.
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For this project, Cin read the Hellblazer Golden Boy arc and vaguely retold it to Jes, who would then write a story based on assumptions and half-remembered memories of the story. Letting personal experience, influences and bias fill the blanks. We're inspired by how Naoki Urusawa wrote Pluto based on his mis-remembered memories of reading Astro Boy. Also when I was a kid I used to look at book covers and summaries and make up a story based on the limited information I was given. It's fun for me. Part of why I love obscure characters so much is that the lack of content about them lets the reader fill in the blanks about their lives and try telling new stories about them that aren't constrained by a saturated canon.
The original Golden Boy arc written by Jamie Delano (#39-40) is about John Constantine coming to the realization that he strangled his twin in the womb. After taking some 'shrooms, John...manifests into another reality, it's very surreal. There, John meets his twin from a universe where John had died, and his brother gets to live. The twin (taking on the name John Constantine, we'll call him Golden Mage to keep it simple) is John's opposite in every better way. They decide to merge their souls to restore...the universe. You kind of had to be there.
John's twin returns many issues later (#249) to wrap up a different arc, there he and the story are written by Andy Diggle.
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The first panel of our full comic references the tarot cards John gets from his reading with Zed.
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This panel is a direct reference to this scene where John sees his own shadow on a curtain after his reading with Zed. I like the imagery of this arc, even when the dialogue describing twins is really cringe. We changed it to a mirror to reinforce the mirror imagery throughout the comic. Speaking of which...!
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Through Jes' reworking of the story, mirrors were streamlined to be the main way alternate universes were portrayed in the story. They'd be the main motif that paralleled the twins too. In issue #249 of Hellblazer, John uses the mirror to confront his twin who resides within himself after their soul-merge years ago.
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The line "He's so beautiful, he frightens me." is spoken by a doctor witnessing the Golden Boy's birth in his universe. We repurposed it to be John's dialogue for when he's describing the man he sees in the mirror.
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John's twin uses a sacrifice involving these candles to summon his sickly twin. Jes repurposed the use of candles to a magic salt circle that contains spirits like the Golden Boy (he's nicknamed "Goldie" in our take).
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The Golden Boy! Even though he died in the womb, he's portrayed as a boy. Probably because a floating fetus wasn't what they were going for. We wanted to give him a distinct look that foreshadows how much he would grow his hair out. I like that his mouth isn't visible! We use the shape of his eyes and posing to get across how he's feeling. It gives him a vacant-toddler-stare I find really endearing.
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We made some minor adjustments to the Golden Mage's design. Initially, we followed his canonical pulled back long hair. But since he was a challenging character to emote when we had one less arm to work with, we decided to part his hair so that it could carry how he's feeling. I like when I can get it to cover a part of his face for intense moments! If it was animated, it would 100% be expressive Ghibli hair.
Our main goal for Golden Mage's characterization is to make him feel like his own person. In the original arc, he's less of a sibling and more of an au of John Constantine himself. He doesn't get his own name. Despite gloating about having a better and more fulfilling love life than John, he also shared the exact same love interests John does. Being a twin is less about a family story and more a vehicle to talk about self hatred and potential here. Which isn't fair to the individuality of the characters!
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(note, this is not how the panels look in the og comic, I've rearranged them so that they display on this post better)
So we characterized the Golden Mage to still have his canon charisma (albeit with the dialogue toned way down from his original appearance), but to have a thinly veiled temper under all that bravado to foil his con-man trickster brother. The Golden Mage was vaguely described as not being particularly attached to the love he receives. Golden Mage is also dismissive of his womb twin's death, saying it's something he shouldn't grieve since he never really knew him. We reinterpreted these lines as him being in denial over his brother's death, thinking himself as above his own feelings of grief.
Also as a tiny note, we kept the Golden Mage's name ambiguous to keep with the vibe of the original comic, but in my mind I headcanon his full name to be Marigold "Goldie" Constantine. The yellow flower is culturally associated with prosperity, but also grief and jealousy. It's perfect for him! So we made references to the flower in the cover and first panels of the comic. I also headcanon that as a kid he called John Constantine's ghost "Johnny".
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My influences for how this whole beginning meeting scene is staged and played out is E.M Carroll's When I Arrived At The Castle. The "animated" panels of Golden Mage looking back at John and breaking through the mirror is a direct call back to the keyhole sequence in that comic! The premise of daydreaming about how your life could have been and not realizing that you're staring at an alternate universe is loosely inspired by Junji Ito's Hellstar Remina. I really like the concept of staring into the unknown and then something sentient staring back from that. "What if our day dreams are just other realities we're dreaming of" kind of deal. I don't see that sort of thing in the saturation of multiverse stories these days.
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Next reference is the Dead Boy's Heart! While I like that this story's its own thing, I was surprised it wasn't linked to John's dead brother in any way. It felt thematically relevant, so we brought it over as a device to trap Goldie while the brothers merge souls.
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Twins can be positioned in a bunch of ways in the womb. I think canonically, John and Golden Mage were positioned like they are in the cover for Hellblazer #39, ideal for strangling I guess! We changed it to echo the motion of yin and yang. I do think the inclusion of yin and yang is a little cringey in the original comic even though I get what it's going for (balance and all that, it's just kind of simplistic to the philosophy). But I do like it as a way to echo card imagery we established in this comic. We combined the imagery of the tarot cards featured in the Golden Boy arc and King/Queen/Joker playing cards. So it felt right to bring back that whole upside down twins in the womb thing. Special fact, this is how my twin and I were vibing in the womb.
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The scene where the twins hit Ctrl + E to merge layers! It's a pretty iconic pose! I like how their heads peaked out of the panels so I brought it back for our comic too. In our version, the twins fail to merge their souls entirely. In the revisit to the Golden Boy character in the comics in issue #249, it's revealed that the merging "failed" in some way, trapping the Golden Mage within John's soul.
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For John's ghost counterpart from Golden Mage's universe we took Dave McKean's portrayal of him very literally haha. I know he doesn't literally have one eye, but we thought it gave him a really distinct look for us to stylize. We decided to keep the ghost kids consistent with no mouth and vacant pupil-less stares. We gave ghost kid!John a sort of bedsheet ghost form to contrast against Goldie.
Speaking of one eye! That's another motif we decided to emphasize throughout the comic. It's not in the source material at all, but we liked it as a way to both hint at chimerism and visualize how the two brothers serve as incomplete halves of each other. Special fact! Heterochromia can show up in chimera twins. Of course in the case of identical twins like the Constantines, their chimerism isn't as detectable since they have identical sets of DNA. But! It's still fun to stylize in a supernatural way. For our take we show the glowing golden eye as the soul of the Golden Boy manifesting in his brother. I like to think that John takes advantage of how undetectable his chimerism is to have an upper hand in any soul-related deals he makes.
This stylized heterochromia is inspired by @ratblazer 's Constantine design! I made a subtle nod to it with young punk John's make up echoing the scar in her design too.
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For John's dynamic with Goldie the Golden Boy, we built the conflict of the story around making him doubt his attachment to his dead brother. There's a line of dialogue in the revisited Golden Boy arc about John needing to "let go", so we repurposed it into the Golden Mage assuring him that his attachments make him weak.
Even though the Golden Boy doesn't show up nearly as much as I think he should in canon, John has been shown to be really sentimental about him. John wants to be the Golden Boy's friend because he's so beautiful John mistook him for Jesus as a kid. Canonically, the Golden Boy ghost rejects John's friendship, likely still not over the whole strangulation in the womb thing. It still breaks John's heart though, he's a sobbing mess about being owned by a dead kid.
We changed this whole dynamic! The twin murder in the womb felt very X-men Xavier vs Cassandra Nova, and it's hard to get behind babies having that much motivation before they're even born. In our version, Goldie is a vanishing twin absorbed by John, the sickly twin. Infants being accidentally strangled by umbilical cords does occur in reality. However, we changed their origin to being that of Vanishing Twin syndrome because it was more specific for the ideas we were going for.
I feel this crucial change is more in tune with the overall themes of Hellblazer. John always cheats death at a cost. People are constantly sacrificed for John's continued survival. But the Golden Boy's case would be special, because he sacrificed himself out of love before he even knew what it means to love. Unlike the other ghosts that haunt John Constantine, Goldie isn't resentful of John. I think it makes more sense for the Golden Boy to be attached to John because he's all the Golden Boy's ever known. As a chimera twin, John is like a horcrux holding his brother's soul in his body. This reaffirms survivor's guilt to be something John experiences since his birth.
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Canonically, although the Golden Mage initially feels sorry for the ghost of John that haunts him, he rejects John as well. John's ghost in canon is like a nuisance that keeps bothering Golden Mage. There's an instance mentioned of Golden Mage trying to recreate his murder in the womb? It's cryptically written. But Golden Mage does keep using the phrase "banished" to describe his brother.
We took this and made it so that he performed an exorcism on himself to remove his supernatural chimera-bond to John's ghost. The Golden Boy arc is pretty unique when compared with how saturated multiverse stories are nowadays since it doesn't share the science fiction sensibilities. Grief comes up a lot in multiverse stuff, in these stories characters use parallel universes to save a loved one as they're bargaining with their loss. For our take, we wanted a character to use the alternate universes to hurt and lash out at the loved one they're grieving. I pulled influence from Everything Everywhere All At Once's concept of a self destructive character on a search for the one familial connection who could understand what they're feeling.
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References! The first panel is a nod to issue #36 where John is sleeping with Marj. We changed her to Kit. The second panel is a direct callback to issue #67, an iconic visual for his break up angst era.
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Trivia; this page was added at the last minute! I needed something to bridge the birthday cupcake page and the final panel of Golden Mage's breakdown, so I linked them through candles! In this weird case, I reference my own work! This is a callback to Birthdays, a short comic we made for John Constantine's canonical birthday. It sets the premise for his relationship with Goldie based on the habits and experiences of survivor twins. The pages referencing this comic are meant to re-establish that John shares meals with his twin.
I wanted this page to feel like John's lighting an incense for his dead brother, and to contrast it with the snuffed out candles from Golden Mage's flashback. The candle has a yellow and blue intertwined spiral pattern that calls back to the color of John and Golden mage's dialogue boxes and speech bubbles, along with how twisted they look when they merged. Implying that in this universe, they're together in some way. I really wish I did this intentionally but it was by complete coincidence of making the cupcake pink and balancing it out with pastel primaries. But I sure can acknowledge how cool it looks symbolically okay???
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The dialogue here is a nod to John's monologue in issue #19 where John is comforting Simon Hughes. It's re-contextualized a bit to be about sharing grief together in our comic.
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This is a really goofy one but- since Golden Mage is supposed to be the fully realized potential of John, we thought that he would have a successful career as a musician and singer where John didn't. I don't think Golden Mage would be a punk singer though, he probably does something he'd consider more elevated.
BUT-! In the 30th Anniversary edition of Hellblazer, Sting (the guy John's appearance is based on) wrote an introduction for the edition while roleplaying as the Golden Boy. Which is nuts. The Anniversary edition basically canonized Sting as being a Constantine variant in our universe with the soul of Golden Boy. Sting, as Golden Boy, describes himself as a musician and singer too. Absolutely bonkers for Sting to throw me a bone this late in the game since no one's touched this character in ages.
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Another E.M Carroll influenced panel sequence. This is from the digital comic Out of Skin.
So that brings us to the end of the comic! We've had the ideas for this comic cooking for some time, and it's people's continued interest in our takes on these characters that gave us the chance to finally bring the story together.
I'm very fascinated by the Golden Boy story, not because it's particularly strong compared to other stories in Hellblazer's run, but because its intriguing premise is bogged down by its surreal take on typical Evil Twin tropes. og Hellblazer's strength was always in its raw humanity. John Constantine's character countered the sensational spectacle of his superhero contemporaries. He may be able to outwit a vampire but he's can't fight back against being brutalized by the police. In one of his most iconic arcs, he finds out he has cancer- not because of any supernatural shenanigans, but because he literally smokes too much. In another arc, John's long time girlfriend breaks up with him, and he lashes out by saying the cruelest things to her. When he hears that his abusive dad is murdered, John still cries about it.
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I think the Golden Boy arc and the retcon that followed his brief return actively undermines what makes Hellblazer special. Suddenly John's having X-Men-level evil twin escapades in the womb. Suddenly, merging with his twin will help save the universe. Suddenly, it's not smoking that caused John to have cancer! It was actually because he merged with his twin and his twin became the cancer from inside him! Suddenly it wasn't a moment of lashing out that caused John to say all those cruel things to his ex upon their break up, that was actually the Golden Boy controlling him from within, so you see it's not really his fault! Also what followed the break up was extra devastating because of the Golden Boy, somehow.
Often I hear in fandom that when you change a character too much from their canon counterpart it's basically "just an oc" at that point, but in the case of characters who get to be re-imagined and passed through many creative teams, I think that kind of mindset is deeply limiting for transformative work. The line I draw between "just an oc" and an interpretation is if the changes involved engage with their source material in any way or if they're just superficial. Big changes and 180 flips can work because they still respond to the history of said character. It's why we see that kind of thing in canon a lot. These characters are inherently built to be passed through many hands in meaningful ways to varying degrees of success. So I hope that by showing all this process that goes behind big changes to a canon character, people better understand what can go into transformative creativity.
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Our thesis for this re-imagining is to take what makes Hellblazer special and re-examine the arc that we felt undermined that. Despite the grief John has for many characters in his cast, mourning isn't brought up at all in the Golden Boy arc. It's dismissed by the characters in narration, and the Golden Mage himself isn't even recognized as a sibling by the narrative, no matter how many times John calls him "bro".
Survivor twin grief over dead womb twins especially is a real thing that's often dismissed because in the words of canon Golden Mage himself "I couldn't mourn for those I'd never known". This is not true to the experience of twins. They play with and remember each other from spending 9 months growing in a tight space together. So when one of them doesn't make it out with the other, that survivor feels a grief they can't comprehend. It can manifest in unresolved trauma, commitment issues, and survivor's guilt. All things that feel so relevant to the themes of John Constantine's character. I think that by integrating the real lived experiences of survivor twins, the Golden Boy arc could've been one the most human and personal parts of the original Hellblazer run. It's could've been a story that helped a community of people so rarely validated in their grief feel seen.
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wielderofmysteries · 2 years ago
Text
Self-Made Man: Jace Beleren and Representation for Transgender Men in MTG
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INTRO:
A few days before I started writing this, I received a message on Tumblr asking me to talk about my personal interpretation of Jace Beleren as a trans man. Not an unusual request, since Jace Beleren is my favorite character and I mention that I think he's trans all the time. I thought my response would be easy to write, but I started typing and couldn't stop. I realized I couldn't keep it short and simple. My thoughts grew into something much bigger, and much more meaningful to me. (Word count: ~9260)
In this post, I'll explore my analysis of Jace Beleren as a transgender man, why I think it enriches Jace as a character, and how it relates to the topic of transgender representation in Magic.
Disclaimer 1: As far as I know, WOTC and the authors who wrote Jace's lore did not originally set out with the intention of portraying a transgender character in Jace. Everything I'm presenting as evidence that Jace is trans is just part of my analysis. The purpose of this post is not to prove that Jace was always intended to be trans, but to show how my personal interpretation of Jace as a trans man is inspired by and supported by the text.
Disclaimer 2: All transgender people are different and have unique lives and feelings and experiences, so the things I say in this post won't apply to every single trans person. The examples I give here are mainly based on my own experience, as well as those of other trans men I know personally.
(General content warning for discussions of bullying and transphobia.)
PART 1: ORIGINS
There's an inherent transness about Jace Beleren.
Insecurity is one of Jace's most visible and defining traits. From Origins to Ixalan, his long-term character arc is all about his struggle to let go of his insecurities in order to become a better version of himself. There are parallels to the experiences of transgender men in the way those insecurities came about, how he expresses them, and how he eventually overcomes them.
It's easy to see why Jace would be insecure. As a telepath, he can hear all the negative thoughts other people have about him.
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Sure enough, there was his father, sitting at the kitchen table, frowning. Gav Beleren, grubby and balding, regarded Jace with little more than weariness.
I wish he was normal.
His father’s thoughts traced a familiar path.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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Lack-witted idiot.
A big lug shoved past him from behind.
Jace couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.
I swear, that Beleren kid…
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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There’s the freak.
The biting thought was the only warning Jace got.
He scrambled to his feet and spun, but he was too late. Three of his schoolmates stood between him and the access hatch.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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Jace's own father, despite caring for his son and wanting a better life for him, felt little warmth for him. He wished Jace were "normal" and often became frustrated with him. Jace was a victim of brutal bullying that started in early childhood and continued all through his school years. Even complete strangers disliked Jace, and they made it known.
It was difficult for Jace to tell which thoughts were or weren't his own. Jace's constant awareness of others disliking him caused him to internalize that negativity, and as a result, he developed a sense of insecurity at an early age.
Jace's insecurity manifests as self-hatred, feelings of inadequacy, and discomfort in his body and physical appearance. I think his insecurities manifested in these specific ways because one of his most significant personal struggles was gender dysphoria. In an R&D video about Jace's story in Origins, Kelly Digges spoke about Jace's insecurity, and unintentionally gave the most transgender-sounding response possible.
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"Not everybody likes Jace. They see the arrogant self-assured kid wearing the hoodie, and something about that doesn't sit well with them. But I think you've got to have sympathy for the guy. I mean, imagine being a teenager with all the awkwardness that comes with that, and actually knowing that the person behind you thinks your hair looks stupid! You'd put on a hood too!"
[Kelly Digges - Magic: The Gathering - Inside R&D Magic Origins: Jace]
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The thing is, I don't have to imagine that situation. That was literally my lived experience as a trans teenager.
I had known I was trans since I was very little, but I didn't decide to start living life as an openly transgender boy until I was 13 years old– right before I started high school. The day before my freshman orientation, my mom took me to a hair salon and I asked the stylist to give me a typical boy's haircut. My hair was waist-length, and the stylist was shocked that a 'girl' could ask her to cut off that much hair. She was scared to ruin my appearance by making me "look like a boy" (even though that's exactly what I wanted.)
My freshman photo was the ugliest school picture I've ever taken. My friends jokingly called me 'Gohan' (from Dragon Ball Z). I started wearing jackets with my hood up, even though I never liked to before, and I wore hats despite it being against the school dress code. I knew other people thought my hair looked stupid, and I knew this without having telepathic abilities like Jace.
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But my troubles didn't start with that haircut. Long before I started openly living as a boy, I was told I was a 'tomboy' and that I didn't act like other little girls did. Even in early childhood, I was very aware of the fact that some people hated me for who I was and how I expressed myself. I was just like Jace in that way– knowing who was judging me; knowing they didn't respect me; and knowing that in their eyes I was ugly, a weirdo, or worse.
I had always known I was different, and Jace had always known he was different, too. But it's not for the reason you would think. People mistreated Jace long before anyone knew or even began to suspect his true nature as a telepath. Nobody knew Jace was a mage, but everyone knew something was weird about him. There was something outwardly unusual about Jace that people noticed and thought was strange and undesirable.
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Something interesting I noticed while re-reading Jace's origin story is that he appears to be wearing girls' clothing in the art. He and the girl, Jill, are both wearing the same long tunic / dress and shawl; while the two other boys are wearing vests and tucked-in shirts.
I know that wasn't necessarily the intention with this art, but it got me thinking about other aspects of Jace's origin story that just felt trans to me.
Interestingly, nobody in Jace's origin story actually calls him "Jace" except for his mother, the only person who truly loved and accepted him for who he was; and Alhammarret, another telepath and therefore the only person who could see Jace the way Jace saw himself. Everyone else refers to him as "Beleren" or "that Beleren kid" or "freak". His own dad doesn't call him anything at all.
It reminded me of the way my family never got into the habit of calling me my chosen name, even after I came out. They would call me my childhood nickname, "BooBoo", to avoid saying my chosen name or my birth name. To them, I was boyish enough it was weird to call me a girl's name, but not loved or respected enough to be called what I wanted.
Being a trans teenager is hard. It's hard to control your style when you're dependent on your parents to buy clothing. It's hard to control your identity when other people constantly call you the wrong name. And it's pretty much impossible to control your body.
Puberty is a source of insecurity for all teenagers, but it's the ultimate hell for trans teenagers. When the effects of hormones become visible and you see how your body has changed compared to your peers, the difference can be emotionally devastating.
While puberty made me wider and heavier; my male friends, who were going through the other puberty, got taller and more muscular. They got bigger and stronger every year while I was doomed to stay 5'0 (152cm) forever. It felt like I could never catch up– they looked the way I wanted to without even trying. Sure, I could pass for a boy, but they were going to grow up to be men. It infuriated me.
Similarly, Jace's lack of stereotypically masculine physical characteristics was a major source of self-hatred.
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“Hey, Beleren,” said the largest of the three, his booming voice overpowering the wind. His name was Tuck. At fourteen, he was a year older than Jace, a head taller, and built like a loading dock.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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How small he looked, hanging desperately above the crackling stream of mana. How vulnerable he looked. He hated it.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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Jace's male peers are described as being significantly taller and more muscular than him. This difference in size and strength made it easy for other boys to bully and physically abuse Jace, which caused him to associate their masculinity with the power they held over him. In Jace's mind, being a victim meant he was weak, and being weak meant he was less of a man. Hating yourself for things you can't control is extraordinarily painful.
When Jace discovered his true nature as a telepath, he realized it was the one way he held power over others. He tried to feel tougher and more masculine by emulating the way his bullies demonstrated their power over him– through intimidation, cruelty, and threats of violence.
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He looked Tuck in the eyes. “And if you harm my family, I’ll take your mind apart, one squalid little memory at a time.”
Tuck flinched.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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Having grown up without any positive male role models in his life, Jace's idea of masculinity was primarily influenced by the mistreatment he endured. He simply imitated what he saw and he didn't have the emotional support or life experience needed to grow out of that mindset.
As a young trans man reading Jace's origin story, I found the way he resented his bullies and retaliated against them to be very relatable. It's scary how easily gender dysphoria can turn into toxic masculinity. When you need to try a million times harder than your cisgender peers to be acknowledged as a man, taking masculinity to a harmful extreme can seem like the logical thing to do, especially if you're a younger trans man.
Despite expressing myself exactly the same as any other little boy would (wearing the same clothes, liking the same cartoons, playing the same sports), I was bullied by both kids and adults for daring to think I could be a boy. Once, when I was 8 years old, I stepped up to bat for my Little League baseball team. When the announcer said my feminine name and everyone noticed the long hair sticking out from underneath my helmet, the opposing team's volunteer coaches (the fathers of kids my age!) shouted from their dugout: "There's no way they'll win! They have a girl on their team!" Their players laughed and cheered in response.
That absolutely broke me. Their words taught me that being myself wasn't enough. And if being the same as other boys wasn't enough, then I needed to be more than them. I intentionally became a bully. Picking every fight I could was my way of proving I was more masculine than people thought.
Intentional toxic masculinity in pursuit of gender-affirmation is a very common experience for young trans men. Jace and my younger self acted the way we did because we were trying to mask our insecurity. We wanted to kill the weakness we saw in ourselves, so we lashed out in an attempt to feel stronger than the people who hurt us.
Starting middle school let me get away from most of the people who bullied me. It was the fresh start I needed to stop being such a terror. But a clean slate wouldn't prove to be so helpful for young Jace.
PART 2: PLANESWALKER
At age 15, Jace's Planeswalker spark ignited. He arrived on Ravnica with no memories of his life on Vryn. 
In theory, Jace's amnesia would have allowed him to start becoming the person he wanted to be, but he couldn't begin to heal because the scars on his subconscious mind were immediately opened. Being lost and alone made Jace feel vulnerable– the feeling he hated most.
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Came out of nowhere. Some poor Izzet experimental subject, probably.
He scrambled to his feet. People were staring at him. He looked as bad as he felt, sweaty and pale and filthy. He pulled his scarf up around his face and dashed to the side of the road.
I’m not an experimental subject. I’m…I’m…
I’m in trouble.
Fine. Table that.
He walked as fast as he could without seeming to hurry. He reached out, carefully, into the minds around him. It was a cacophony, a mad tangle of voices, and half of them weren’t even human.
Vagrant. Thief. Poor kid. Wretch.
His headache was getting worse.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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On Ravnica, Jace had no idea where he was or who he was, and he was suddenly surrounded by more people than he'd ever been near before. After losing the ability to control his telepathy, he was overwhelmed with their thoughts. He didn't know any of the people around him, but he knew they thought he was strange and pitiful.
When Jace noticed people staring at him, he hid his face with his scarf and ran away from them. Jace's first instinctual concern was not that he was possibly in danger, but that people were perceiving him in a way that made him feel embarrassed about himself. Even without memories of being bullied, a part of Jace's mind was still constantly worried about his appearance.
Jace's anxiety in public reminded me of the extreme paranoia I suffered from as a trans teenager. Being seen and perceived was so unbearable to me that I went to extremes to avoid people. I'd stay home or hide whenever possible, and sometimes I became so anxious I would literally run away if I noticed someone looking at me. I've gotten a lot better in the past few years, but I still worry when I'm out in public. I often notice strangers staring at me, and I hate knowing when people are questioning my gender. In certain situations, I'm even worried that someone might hurt me if they notice I'm trans. When you're trans and you've been bullied, just being perceived is dangerous.
That initial experience on Ravnica did instant damage to his self esteem. Jace's discomfort in his body and physical appearance was such a pressing issue that he immediately sought gender-affirming body modifications.
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The Jace in front of her was pathetically young.
[...]
The teenage Jace seated in the chair had the look about him of someone who wanted to disappear and wish someone more imposing into his place. His outfit was disheveled, the cut of it unfamiliar. Vraska sensed in the fabric of the memory that this version of Jace had arrived in Ravnica for the first time only days before.
The Gruul shaman's hand was glowing brilliant white. "This your first?" he grunted.
It took Jace a moment too long to answer. "Yes," he said timidly.
Vraska couldn't help but smile at this memory. He was the wimpiest teenager she had ever seen—no wonder he wanted a cool tattoo.
[...]
The shaman leaned over the teenager and drew a line with his finger down Jace's cheek, leaving a brilliant white tattoo in its place. He continued on his chin and arm, and Vraska watched as the shaman diligently painted a braver face on the nervous teenager's own.
[The Flood - Alison Luhrs]
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Tattoos probably aren't the first thing that comes to mind when you think of gender-affirming body modifications, but that was the purpose they served for Jace. Getting tattoos made him feel braver and more grown up, and they made him look cooler and more intimidating to others. All of these were stereotypically masculine traits he desired in the way he presented himself.
In addition to the way they changed him outwardly, Jace's tattoos were a personal declaration of his identity. His tattoos were drawn from one of the few things he could remember after arriving on Ravnica: a set of mysterious shapes and symbols. He didn't know what meaning they held, if any at all, but he decided that they were important to him because they were his.The decision to have them permanently inked on his skin gave him a sense of control and ownership over his body and appearance, which is one of the most important aspects of forming an identity as a trans person.
In his young adult years on Ravnica, Jace made a living as a criminal extorting the rich and famous. For the first time in his life, he could afford to choose his own wardrobe instead of depending on a guardian to provide clothes for him. Jace used this opportunity to exercise more control over his appearance, having clothing designed and tailored specifically to his desires.
The patterns Jace had tattooed on his body would be incorporated into his signature blue cloak. Jace's cloak is the most iconic element of his visual design, and it's important to this interpretation of his character because it's his dysphoria hoodie.
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A dysphoria hoodie is a hooded clothing item intended to relieve gender dysphoria by obscuring the shape of a person's body. They're oversized, loose, and usually black or another dark color. Wearing a dysphoria hoodie hides a person's body from others' judging eyes, and allows them to forget about the parts of their body that they don't like.
It's undeniable that Jace's cloak fits this description perfectly.
Jace was extremely attached to his blue cloak. It didn't matter how hot the weather was, or how dirty or damaged his cloak had gotten– he always wore it anyway. And judging by the fact that he canonically had numerous duplicates made, he didn't want to ever stop wearing it. The ability to look and feel mysterious was very comforting to him.
Jace tried to hide his insecurities for as long as he could, but as he grew into adulthood, his problems would grow and change with him.
The novel Agents of Artifice follows Jace's life on Ravnica from ages 19 to 22. Growing up meant the gender role Jace desired to fill evolved from 'boy' to 'man', but Jace had no positive male role models or examples in this formative time.
As Jace's employer and teacher, Tezzeret forced him to use his powers for violence by psychologically abusing him. Tezzeret had an explosive temper and brutally tortured Jace when he failed assignments or hesitated to comply.
Jace's best friend / partner, Kallist Rhoka, showed a sense of entitlement after the two met Liliana Vess. Kallist felt like Liliana owed him attention and sex, despite the fact that she wasn't interested in him because she was already dating Jace.
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“You’re a hypocrite, Jace. It’s fine. My own fault, really. I should’ve known better than to take you at your word, when it came to getting something you wanted—the one thing I might’ve found to make this damned place a little better!”
“She was never yours!” Jace shot to his feet, fists clenched. “Never!”
“Because you wouldn’t give us the chance!” Kallist shot back. “It’s not enough that you took away everything I had?”
“Took away … Damn it, Kallist, I saved your life!”
[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]
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Kallist wasn't the only man who felt this way. Throughout the book, several complete strangers made it clear that they thought Jace was inferior and undeserving of Liliana's affection, and that Liliana should be with them instead. Other men openly insulted Jace because they didn't see him as a "real man".
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“I couldn’t help but notice,” he slurred in a voice heavy with beer, “that you finally sent your scrawny friend packing. That mean you interested in spending some time with a real man?”
[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]
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At that point in his life, Jace was still surrounded by men who had very toxic expressions of masculinity, but unlike his teenage self, he had no desire to imitate them. Jace feared and resisted Tezzeret's violent teachings, he disapproved of Kallist's misogyny towards Liliana, and he avoided confrontation with the random strangers who threatened him.
I think Jace's distaste for their attitudes and behaviors shows that his insecurity is truly gender dysphoria and not just toxic masculinity. If Jace disapproved of their toxic masculinity and didn't want to express himself that way, why would he care if he wasn't a "real man" to them? Why did he still feel incomplete as a man? What does being a man mean to Jace Beleren?
Jace wanted to do all the things typically expected of adult men. He wanted to be self-reliant, to be a protector and leader to others. He made himself a protector and financial provider to his romantic partners. He wanted to protect Ravnica and accepted his duty as the Living Guildpact when the role was magically forced upon him. He worked with the Gatewatch to defend other planes and invited them to live in his home. Despite all his efforts, nobody seemed to see that Jace was trying his best.
One of the most common difficulties trans men experience is being infantilized because they're perceived as younger. Trans men often look younger than their cisgender male peers of the same age due to the difference in hormones. Less testosterone means trans men tend to be shorter, less muscular, and have less body hair (not accounting for individual genetic factors).
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When trans men lack stereotypically masculine physical characteristics, especially those associated with age and maturity, such as facial hair, they don't get treated with the same respect as other men. (For example, adult trans men are often referred to as 'boys' no matter how old they actually are.)
When Jace's appearance is described in stories, his lack of stereotypically masculine physical characteristics is always noted. He's always described as being smaller and less muscular than other men, and it's repeatedly remarked upon that he's unable to grow a beard.
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Rulan was clad much like Jace himself, though he preferred deep reds and purples to Jace’s unrelenting blue and black. And unlike Jace, Rulan boasted a full, tidily trimmed beard.
[Agents of Artifice - Ari Marmell]
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She cast a critical eye up and down his form. Firm, fit, alert, hair combed. She mentally called bull on it. "You can drop the glamour, dear. No one cares."
He sighed, and shimmered as his illusion dropped. There was the real Jace; paler, hair rumpled, eyes sunken from late nights, and his chin tinted by the adorable peach fuzz that almost counted as a someday-maybe beard.
[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]
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The text shows that Jace experienced infantilization as a trans man. His sparse facial hair is enough to visibly darken his face, but it's referred to as "adorable peach fuzz" rather than a more mature-sounding alternative. In the story Catching Up, Liliana tells Jace that him looking older is "an unambiguous compliment."
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"You look older," she said.
"I'm not sure how to take that."
"At your age, dear, it's an unambiguous compliment." She cocked her head. "Have you started combing your hair?"
He smoothed his hair self-consciously, just for a moment, then withdrew his hand. He had, in fact, started combing it. Not that his hair was any of her business. He scowled.
[Catching Up - Kelly Digges]
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This aspect of Jace's trans experience caused him to be disrespected in several areas of his adult life. As an adult navigating dating and relationships, people saw him as unattractive and less desirable. As the Living Guildpact, people saw him as unqualified and irresponsible. As a member of the Gatewatch, people saw him as weak and incapable of leadership. Because he was infantilized as a trans man, he was perceived as inherently less masculine, less competent, and less mature. This negative perception reinforced his feelings of inadequacy.
For this reason, Jace was more self-conscious about his appearance as an adult than he'd ever been as a youth. In order for people to treat him with more respect, Jace found it necessary to hide his body with his cloak and to change his appearance with illusions. Jace felt the need to 'pass', and thought being himself was unsatisfactory, especially after he met Gideon.
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Meeting Gideon was a major turning point in Jace's emotional development as a trans man.
Gideon was a great example of stereotypical but positive masculinity. He was self-reliant but not afraid to ask for help. He was a leader but tried to uplift others. He fought as a defender, not an aggressor.
Jace saw Gideon as an upstanding person and a good friend. For the first time in his life, Jace had a positive male role model to look up to. It made him furious.
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"I'd rather stand," said Gideon.
Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it.
[Catching Up - Kelly Digges]
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Gideon made Jace feel hopelessly insecure about himself.
He was everything Jace wanted to be, and seemed to be perfect in all the ways Jace wasn't. Gideon was super tall while Jace was average height. Gideon was athletic and muscular while Jace was thin and out-of-shape. Gideon was charismatic and a natural leader while people tended to automatically distrust Jace.
Jace both admired and envied Gideon. He tried his best to emulate Gideon's positive qualities, but found it difficult because it was clear to himself and others that it didn't come naturally to him. Jace's presence just didn't inspire others or make them feel safe like Gideon's presence did.
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What would Gideon say?
Jace smiled. Of course.
"For Zendikar," he said, raising one fist in the air. It felt thin to him, lacking Gideon's armored fist, his baritone war cry, his iron conviction.
[Brink of Extinction - Kelly Digges]
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"Vanity?" she said. "That's not like you."
He raked a hand back through his hair, which did nothing to calm its random angles. "I should be at my best for team meetings. Project leadership. Confidence. The idea that I know what the hell I'm doing. And why am I telling you this?" He looked annoyed at himself.
She raised one ivory shoulder in a careless shrug. "Who else knows you well enough to understand?"
[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]
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Seeing the differences between himself and Gideon aggravated his gender dysphoria and reinforced all the manifestations of his insecurity– self-hatred, feelings of inadequacy, and discomfort in his body and physical appearance.
In his time with the Gatewatch, Jace's vision of masculinity had changed to be much more positive, but he was still miserable because he kept measuring his self-worth against an ideal he couldn't seem to reach.
This stage in socially transitioning is emotionally difficult for trans people. It takes time and effort to overcome.
PART 3: CASTAWAY
At age 26, after the Gatewatch's defeat on Amonkhet, Jace involuntarily planeswalked to Ixalan. He awoke on a tropical island with no recollection of who he was or where he came from.
For the second time in his life, Jace had complete amnesia. Just like when he sparked at age 15, his insecurities lingered despite being unable to remember what caused them. He hallucinated illusions of people from his past life, and his subconscious mind projected his insecurities through them.
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"You've really done it this time, haven't you?"
This vision appeared whenever the man was struggling at a task.
His shoulders were broad, and his olive skin had a sheen of sweat underneath the shine of his armor. The hallucination was looking over the man's shoulder as he tried to carve a fishing hook.
"Listen, you aren't really suited to this task. Let me handle it." The vision's voice was gruff but friendly.
It came off as condescending.
The man was annoyed.
"I can do it myself."
The hallucination sighed. "You and I both know you're not suited to this. Let me handle it, you go philosophize on the other end of the beach."
"I said I can do it myself." The man let his irritation reach his voice.
"No, you can't. I call the shots and execute, you stand to the side. That's how this works."
The man responded by throwing his hook at the hallucination. It went straight through the figure's eye and landed behind him on the sand.
[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]
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An illusion of Gideon represented Jace's frustration due to low confidence in his skills and abilities. No one ever seemed to think Jace was good enough. His intellect, social skills, and physical dexterity were all constantly questioned throughout his entire life. As a result, Jace never got the chance to prove to the people around him what he was truly capable of.
On Useless Island, Jace was utterly alone and could rely only on himself. Jace succeeded in teaching himself to hunt, fish, and build in order to survive. He was not inept at stereotypically masculine tasks, as people had believed him to be. Over time, he grew a thick beard and gained a significant amount of muscle mass.
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"You look terrible," purred a voice from above.
The man moved his hands. An illusion of a woman stood above him. She had raven hair, tired eyes, and a disdainful expression. Her arms were gloved in violet satin and crossed in front of her.
"The muscles are a nice change, but you look awful with facial hair." Her lips curled in a disdainful sneer.
The man shook his head, tears building in the corner of his eyes.
"I don't know who you are."
"Of course you don't, boy."
She looked him over. "You didn't know who I was then, and you don't now. Hard to build trust when neither of us trusts each other."
The man decided to stop caring that this illusion wasn't real. He desperately needed someone to talk to.
"Who was I, before here?"
"You weren't who you thought you were, that's for sure. No one else saw through you, but I did. You were never a leader or a detective or a scholar; you were a frightened child playing pretend."
The man swallowed a lump in his throat.
"You can fool the rest of the world with your magic and illusions, but you could never fool me."
The man wanted to sob. Wanted to go back and sleep. Wanted to starve until all of this went away.
[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]
=========
An illusion of Liliana represented Jace's gender dysphoria and impostor syndrome.
Despite everything he had achieved so far on Useless Island, his subconscious mind still held feelings of self-doubt. Part of Jace's mind wondered whether or not he was ever truly suited to being a man, telling himself he "looks terrible" and "awful with facial hair". Again, Jace's maturity and experience are denied when the illusion infantilizes him by calling him a "boy" and "a frightened child playing pretend". This vision was an expression of Jace's fear that he was inherently unfit for masculinity and the roles he wanted to fill as a man.
Unlike the first time Jace had amnesia, though, there were no real people around to reinforce his insecurities. Being alone meant Jace had no one to compare himself to. This gave him the opportunity to truly have faith in himself. Rather than trying to copy someone else's example of masculinity, he was creating his own.
=========
The man opened his eyes, and saw a vision of himself standing on top of the water in front of him.
The image had a blank expression on its face, but was otherwise identical to the man himself, standing calmly—impossibly—on the surface of the water.
The man's jaw fell open in shock.
The illusion appeared solid as flesh, and its detail was astonishingly accurate. The man was amused he did not remember his name but remembered the exact details of his own body: muscles toned, stubble on its face, blistered sunburn on its bare shoulders. He even saw its scars—his scars—the little bookmarks of a life well-lived.
[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]
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All the effort he had taken to change himself showed outwardly on his body, and it was very gender-affirming. He was happy to see his muscles and facial hair and sunburn. I don't know how else to say this, but Jace being proud of "his scars" just has super transgender connotations. When Jace saw his scars, he appreciated them as proof of his ability to change and adapt– proof of his survival.
One of the most meaningful and symbolic moments in Jace's story is his decision to leave Useless Island. He built a raft and sailed away, uncertain of his future but determined and unafraid. Among the items he packed for his journey was his old blue cloak, unaware of the meaning it previously held for him. Jace encountered a storm soon after leaving, and all the items he brought with him were lost or destroyed, including his cloak. But he wasn't upset. He didn't miss it. To the Jace of Useless Island, it was nothing more than a piece of fabric. The Jace of Useless Island was comfortable in his body, and had no need for a dysphoria hoodie to hide from himself or anyone else. By letting his cloak be destroyed, Jace let go of his insecurities.
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Vraska found Jace washed up on a rocky island and accepted him into her pirate crew. Jace was eager to help, using his tinkering ability to fix telescopes and compasses. He also used his illusion magic to make The Belligerent invisible during a raid, and even fought vampires with the crew.
People need to have loved ones in their lives who make them feel accepted and respected. It's absolutely critical for a person's emotional health, and especially for trans people, whose close support networks are often insufficiently small or entirely absent. When you feel ashamed of yourself because you're constantly being criticized, when you live in fear of the world around you because you're hated, it's difficult even to simply exist. Having just one person who truly makes you feel safe makes a world of difference.
This is why it was so important that Vraska, the only person on Ixalan who knew Jace before his amnesia, didn't judge him based on his past. She didn't try to tell Jace who he used to be or who he should be. The crew of The Belligerent allowed Jace to be himself, and they cared about the qualities he had, not the ones he lacked. This key difference in how people treated Jace on Ixalan is what allowed him to thrive.
In The Flood, Jace fell down a waterfall and hit his head on a rock. The injury triggered a reversal of his amnesia. After Jace got his memories back, he reflected on the difference between his past and present selves.
=========
"I wouldn't have had the strength to climb this a year ago," Jace said with a little bit of pride. "Or if I did, I probably would have passed out halfway up."
"You weren't that out of shape when I last saw you," Vraska teased.
"You're ignoring how often I used to use illusions to make myself look like I was in shape."
Her brows shot up. "Seriously?"
"Oh yeah," Jace acknowledged. His expression was unguarded, eyes still red from emotion, a lighthearted tilt to his lips. Unapologetically human. He grinned. "I used to be a coward."
He let Not anymore hang unspoken in the air between them, and Vraska caught his smile as he turned to ascend the golden staircase toward Orazca, one strong step after another.
[The Flood - Alison Luhrs]
=========
The old Jace was always being compared to others. That Jace hated himself because he could only see himself as an inferior version of other men. He wanted to hide because he felt like he would never be enough. He wanted to be anyone but Jace.
The new Jace unlearned that mindset. He realized the only 'right' way to be a man was to try to be the best Jace he could be. Having room to improve meant he had the opportunity to find joy in growing and changing. He was proud of himself for taking control of his identity and putting in all the effort necessary to transition. On Ixalan, Jace cultivated the strongest body he ever had. That new body made him braver and more confident than ever before. And that new confidence made him happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life.
The resolution of Jace's arc came from his transition. All his life, Jace had wanted people to understand and accept his true self. For people to see his true self, he needed to be able to show them. Jace was able to start healing from his trauma on Ixalan because for the first time in his life, he felt like it was safe and good to be himself, so he lost his fear of judgment and embarrassment. Through that acceptance, he learned to be himself, and to love himself, and to love his transness. On Ixalan, Jace finally became the man he wanted to be.
=========
Jace looked down at himself.
The tan was real. The scrapes, the newly callused hands, the muscles (the muscles!) were all his. Jace felt proud of his body for the first time in his life. He must not lose track of it now.
[Wool Over the Eyes - Alison Luhrs]
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PART 4: DEEP BLUE
Jace being a transgender man is not just a headcanon to me. It's a textual interpretation that I believe adds meaning to the story and enriches Jace as a character.
My interpretation of Jace as a trans man is rooted in the way his personal philosophy guides him as a Blue character.
Blue's central theme is "Perfection through knowledge." Blue sees the world and everything in it as a blank slate waiting to be transformed. With the right knowledge, all possibilities can become reality. Jace's expression of "Perfection through knowledge" is his journey to become a better person by understanding himself.
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Jace chose his words carefully.
"Existence is adaptation to changing circumstances. The self is an accumulation of what one has learned from those changing circumstances . . . Our agency gives us the means to alter our own path. You are who you decide to be. And who you will become depends only on how you choose to adapt."
[Something Else Entirely - Alison Luhrs]
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Jace's personal philosophy as a Blue character is "You are who you choose to be''. He believes that people are defined by the choices they make with their free will, and rejects the idea that the self has immutable qualities. To Jace, there is no pre-determined path or destiny for him to follow. Rather, he continually seeks to cultivate his own identity through change. 
In my interpretation of Jace as a trans man, Jace holds these beliefs because they're lessons he's had to learn in order to overcome his struggles and accept himself.
As a Blue character, Jace's core struggle is his desire to understand himself. Jace's life has been a constant quest to figure out who he is. Above all, Jace's thirst for knowledge is a need to understand his potential and his place in the Multiverse.
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Jace.
My name is Jace Beleren.
So there was something in there, waiting for him to dig it out.
And who is Jace Beleren? Is he a good man? Is he kind?
He willed away the shape and sat, alone, farther from home than he’d even known was possible.
He’d have to wait and see.
[Jace's Origin: Absent Minds - Kelly Digges]
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Having lost so much of his life to amnesia, Jace has often been unsure of who he is or who he should be.
I've always seen the divide in Jace's life caused by his amnesia as a parallel to the 'before' and 'after' periods in my life as a trans person.
When I decided to start openly living as a trans boy in high school, it was like I was being haunted by my own ghost. I didn't know who I was or how to act anymore because everyone around me seemed to see and speak to a version of myself that no longer existed. But I hadn't died, I was just different. I wanted people to see that I was alive and well. I wanted to make myself feel real again.
Like Jace, I was a teenage boy with no past. I needed to rebuild myself, and I had to start from scratch. I wasn't sure what to do with myself, but the one thing I was sure of was that I couldn't look back. I didn't want to. And neither did Jace.
Jace is known for his love of investigation, puzzles, and research, but his past seems to be the one thing he's not curious about. While he does occasionally wonder what his life used to be like, he's never shown a desire to return to that past. He's never put any time or energy into re-discovering old memories or trying to restore some previous state.
When Jace asks himself, "Who am I?", he's not asking who he was before. He's asking who he can be. What matters to Jace is not who you were, but who you can become.
The past is unimportant to Jace, and this belief gives him strength. He expressed this on Ixalan when he vowed the illusions of his past would no longer bother him.
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"No more involuntary illusions!" he said, and something in the back of his mind rung with magical affirmation. It would not happen again.
He had control over his mind. He was the wielder of his talents.
[...]
Then a thought occurred to the man.
"Who I was doesn't matter . . . because I get to learn who I am now."
Saying it out loud made it feel real.
"Whoever I was is irrelevant, for I will become whoever I want to become."
He believed that with all his heart.
The man realized what he must do.
He was going to prove to himself that he deserved to live.
The man got to work.
[Jace, Alone - Alison Luhrs]
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Jace understood that in order to progress, he had to keep moving forward. Letting go of the past is what allowed Jace to live in the present and to have hope for his future.
This aspect of Jace's philosophy is also an important aspect of trans acceptance. Many trans people struggle with making the decision to transition because they fear it's too late. They may feel that way because of their age, because of their circumstances in life, or because other people will remember them differently. But Jace believes that the person you were yesterday doesn't have to be the person you are today, or will be tomorrow. When you understand this, you understand that it is never too late for anyone to change.
It's in our nature as thinking, feeling beings to want to explore and discover new things about ourselves, but transphobes want us to repress our curiosity. My whole life, I've had to fight back against people who disrespect my identity and want me to submit to their idea of who I should be. Jace shares this experience.
=========
Baan regarded him coolly. "You were bullied as a child."
Jace coughed on his first mouthful of food and struggled to swallow. "I, uh, don't remember my childhood." A dozen unvoiced thoughts flickered behind his eyes.
The Kaladeshi raised his brows. "One need not consciously recollect an event to fall into habitual behaviors determined by the experience. It is not inconceivable that one could forget their entire life. I would safely wager that were that the case, the subject would still tend to make similar lapses of judgement, and would be drawn to associate with the same sorts of people." He waved a hand, the swish of an ox's tail dismissing flies. "The nature of mortals is not so malleable as some would naively suppose. A person of religious inclination will always find something greater than themselves to place their faith in. A criminal will forever remain a criminal."
Jace put his fork down. "That's a very...deterministic point of view, Minister."
[Homesick - Chris L'Etoile]
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Dovin Baan expressed beliefs about identity and human nature similar to those of the transphobes I've dealt with. People like them think, "You were born a certain way and you will always be that way. You will never be anything else. No matter what you do, you can never truly change."
But Jace lives in defiance of that idea. Jace knows he's capable of change because he actively chose to become someone new. What he once was, he no longer is. Jace's disagreement with Dovin Baan isn't just a difference in opinion; it's a defense of his existence. When transphobes deny our identities, they deny our reality.
If Dovin believes our identities are set in stone, Jace believes we each hold a sculptor's tools. Whether or not you will change is your choice. But you alone have the power to make that choice, and no one can take that away from you.
=========
She sighed. "I don't know how the Golgari will see me when I return."
Jace shrugged. "You get to decide how they see you."
She looked at him with uncertainty. Jace continued. "How we engage with the world is dependent on how we present ourselves to it. We are continuously adjusting to change because if we fail to change, we fail to survive. By nature of you surviving the hell you did, you have changed into someone wiser than before. By nature of you commanding this ship, you've transformed yourself into the leader you always knew you could be.
"What makes you you isn't your circumstance or your past, but the choices you make in the future. Your ability to learn and adapt is what makes you who you are today, and that is what dictates who you will continue to become."
[Something Else Entirely - Alison Luhrs]
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Jace's focus on adaptation and self-improvement reminds me of the theory of gender euphoria; the idea that gender identity is defined by positive feelings and what feels right to a person, not negative feelings and what feels wrong (gender dysphoria). You can't be happy if you only focus on things that cause you discomfort and pain. You need to find things that give you comfort and bring joy to your life.
As a teenager, Jace hated himself for his weakness. He felt like being tough would make him more masculine. But when he grew up and gained more life experience and new role models, he realized that was no longer what he wanted. It may take some time to figure out what you want, and you may even find that what you want will change, but the end goal will always be to become the best version of you.
This process of trial-and-error is integral to Jace's philosophy.
We ourselves must constantly change in order to survive in an ever-changing world. Jace believes we are defined by the lessons we choose to absorb from these experiences. Every time you change, you have the opportunity to learn something new about yourself. You have the opportunity to see how you've become stronger and see what inspires you to live. That is adaptation. That is growth.
Even if you feel like you're not where you want to be yet, in Jace's eyes, you have already proven your identity just by choosing to walk that path. You can't just wish to love yourself. You have to choose to see yourself as someone worthy of love.
Jace wants us to see and appreciate ourselves for who we are and who we want to be, not what we aren't. You're a glass half full, not a glass half empty. Your potential is infinite, not wasted. If you learn to see yourself this way, it's easier to be a happier, more authentic self.
Jace's philosophy is what makes his character development a beautifully resonant trans story worthy of being true trans representation in my eyes.
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In that moment, Jace noticed a change within himself. The Jace of Zendikar and Innistrad and Ravnica had a nervous energy about him, persistently bored and disastrously introspective, constantly aware of the chasm of absent memory that was always on his mind's horizon. The Jace without a past was present, alert, comfortable no matter the circumstance and ready to face whatever might come his way. He remembered what it was like to be both, but recognized how much more natural it was to be the latter. In the span of a moment, Jace was surprised at himself, and then realized his earnestness of late, of Ixalan, was not manufactured, nor was his mindfulness something he could only access in a state of amnesia. That was who he had always been. He had just forgotten.
[Glimpse the Far Side of the Sun - Alison Luhrs]
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PART 5: REPRESENTATION FOR TRANS MEN IN MAGIC
If that all seems like an excessive amount of explaining for why I believe Jace is trans, that's because it is.
My interpretation of Jace as a trans man means so much to me because there is no actual representation for trans men in Magic. Which is, frankly, really wack.
In 2015, Magic's first ever transgender character, a trans woman named Alesha, was introduced in the beloved Khans of Tarkir story, "The Truth of Names."
In 2018, a nonbinary elf Legend named Hallar was printed in Dominaria.
In 2020, a nonbinary human Legend named Alharu was printed in Commander Legends.
The introduction of trans characters in Magic really ramped up in 2021. Kaldheim introduced an angel who uses Xe/Xer pronouns in the story Know Which Way the Wind Blows; as well as Niko Aris, Magic's first nonbinary Planeswalker. Strixhaven introduced Dean Nassari of Prismari College, a nonbinary efreet Legend. And Strixhaven: A Curriculum of Chaos, the set's accompanying Dungeons & Dragons book, introduced a nonbinary loxodon NPC named Bhedum 'Rampart' Soovij, and a human NPC named Nora Ann Wu, a transgender girl who counsels other transgender students at Strixhaven. The Innistrad: Midnight Hunt story His Eyes, All of Them featured an elderly transgender woman named Malynn.
Early 2022 saw the printing of another nonbinary character, an elf chef named Rocco, in Streets of New Capenna. And a nonbinary soldier named Myrel was printed in The Brothers' War.
Seven years after the introduction of Alesha, Magic acknowledged that trans men exist for the first time ever in May 2022, when the 'Pride Across the Multiverse' Secret Lair Drop was announced, just a few days after I began writing this article. 
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This Secret Lair Drop had eight cards featuring art, all by LGBTQ+ artists, that showcase the strength of the LGBTQ+ community in the Magic Multiverse. This celebration of diversity was beautiful, heartwarming, and inspiring in its entirety. Notably, it also featured two trans men in its art. In the new art for "Bearscape'', one of the men is depicted with scars from top surgery (gender-affirming surgery to flatten his chest). And in the new art for "Alesha, Who Smiles at Death", Alesha reaches out to support a young transgender man wearing a chest binder.
As a transgender man myself, I'd been waiting forever to see representation for trans men in Magic. I was happy… and then I wasn't. Two nameless transgender men with no lore appearing in the art for a Secret Lair Drop is just not meaningful representation.
The first named trans man to ever appear on a Magic card was Klement, a tiefling introduced in the summer 2022 set, Alchemy Horizons: Baldur's Gate. Don't get me wrong, I like Klement a lot– he's a very cute character and I'm glad he exists. But it's frustrating that he doesn't even exist in the Magic Multiverse because he's a Baldur's Gate character, and you can't actually own a real Klement card because he's a digital Alchemy card exclusive to Magic Arena.
Now that we're in early 2023, Magic is set to have been around for 30 years without ever featuring a named trans man character on a printed card or in a story.
Trans men have remained painfully invisible in popular media, even as the mainstream has gotten a lot better about representing a wide variety of people in the past few years. Magic in particular has done a very good job of increasing representation for marginalized groups. Magic clearly isn't afraid of including trans characters, which is why the lack of representation for trans men is so disappointing and so baffling to me.
Not having any representation for trans men in Magic hurts because meaningful representation for marginalized groups helps tremendously to promote inclusion in the community. Magic has a wonderful community and I feel like its members genuinely try to welcome all kinds of people, but others can't learn to become more accepting of you if they don't even know you exist.
When people talk about making the community welcoming for people of marginalized genders, trans men are often forgotten and left out of the conversation. When I see people discussing matters of marginalized genders in the community, they don't acknowledge that trans men are just as affected by gender discrimination as other marginalized genders. And I often see people (even other trans people) use the phrase "women and nonbinary" when talking about creating safe community spaces, seemingly not realizing that phrase categorically excludes trans men.
If the intention is to be inclusive, I don't know why we'd be excluded. It hurts to think that people say these things because they either don't know we exist or actually don't want to be friends with us.
I'm genuinely glad I've seen so many other trans people and allies connect with each other through the Magic fandom. But it's sad to not feel that same sense of solidarity and friendship. When I talk with other trans men in the Magic fandom, we're often lamenting the fact that there are no canon characters or prominent Magic creators / community members who are trans men. We have nothing to celebrate.
I think Magic's story and characters should reflect its diverse fanbase. The trans men in the Magic community deserve to have our stories told. Not only so others will understand our struggles, but so they can learn to share our joy. I want to show others who I am, and that I'm happy to be me.
Jace's character shows that people are receptive to these stories, and that in some cases, we have secretly been there all along. I'm just hoping for the day we can step proudly into the spotlight.
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manifestingenius · 10 months ago
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Why it's important not to always rely on void and putting your life on hold.
I haven't written posts for a very long time because I decided to focus on my present life. But I wanted to write this specific post.
After knowing about the void state I put my life on hold so much. I stopped doing 85% of the things I was doing before I learned about the void. It's embarrassing how I stopped caring about everything and was hoping and telling myself that I'm gonna enter the void this week anyway. Nothing really matters, right? I didn't answer to any of my seminars and colloquiums and barely studied for exams which lead me to losing my scholarship. I cried so so hard because I was angry at myself. I thought that I would enter the void in the summer so the exams and the results didn't matter to me. But I was so broken afterwards.
I never bought myself the things I wanted because I thought "I'm gonna manifest it all for free in the void anyway, why bother now?". I never went to places I wanted because I thought "I will have a lot of money to afford everything I want so why bother now?". I put all my focus and time on reading about void, reading posts on tumblr, trying all the methods and just hoping.
I planned to put videos on Youtube but was so shy and every day I was improving all the skills that were needed for me to be successful. I read a lot, I watched a lot of self improvement content, I watched lots of law of assumption videos, I took classes, in other words I was passionate. I was living. I put everything aside and became so lazy "Why even waste time doing all of this when I can have it all after the void?".
I stopped even trying to improve myself because I thought that I'm gonna manifest being my best self anyway. I was eating fast food 3-4 times a week and gained a lot of weight which made me insecure even more but I consoled myself that it's only for now, that I'm gonna manifest my dream body and everything will be fine.
I wanted to buy some makeup but didn't. I wanted to get laser hair removal for a long time and didn't. I wanted to hit the gym and didn't. I wanted to draw and make money out of it and didn't. And so much more. I missed out on so much and I regret it.
After I lost my scholarship I realized that I messed up a lot. Now I have some problems with a subject I failed and my mom has to pay money so that I can take the classes again. Now I can't afford anything because I don't have my own money, I can't go to work, my parents give me some money but it's not enough for my needs and wants.
I realized that my life became so miserable. 2023 was so wasted. One day I was asked what did I learn from 2023 and I couldn't answer because I didn't know. In 2023 I have only degraded tbh.
The saddest thing is that I was warned. I was warned by other people on tumblr to not put void on the pedestal and to not put my life on the hold. I ignored them all thinking that I'm not gonna be like them, I'm not gonna struggle as long as them. It's gonna take me much less time and everything will be fine. But turns out they were right and I made many mistakes. Turns out I'm still on my void journey even after 1 year and 2 months. I really thought it's gonna take me 1 month or smth. Funny.
After realizing that I need to change my life, I put void aside and focused on the present. I bought some things I wanted and I don't waste money on fast food anymore, I went to the gym, I finally got laser hair removal, I started eating healthier and lost 3 kg, I returned to watching self improvement videos on youtube and now I plan to draw and sell my drawings to make more money. I worked hard to pass all my exams successfully so that I can get my scholarship back.
From the outside it may seem that I forgot about the void or even lost hope but I didn't and I never will. I believe and know that one day I will become a success story myself. I even have a new upcoming post about my mini success (?) not sure if I can call it success yet 🤭
But anyway if you read all of this thank you. If my situation resonates with you I hope it helps you to not make these mistakes like I did and to not put your life on hold. Enjoy the present as much as you can, don't purposely make your life even more miserable. I love you all🫂💕🫶
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r--kt · 7 months ago
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Good boy Tobi. Why is he acting this way?
"oh yeah, it was just Zetsu" a-ha, not even close. here I'll talk specifically why Obito resorts to roleplay, and why he is comfortable with the images of Madara and Tobi. (obviously because it's not being himself but let's dig deeper)
contents | responsibility · regrets · a sense of control · conclusions
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Vol. 31 CH. 280. Tobi's first appearance.
sure this looks like another defense mechanism that allows Obito to avoid reality, especially when interacting with people. full coverage, imitation of someone else's voice, name change, personality change etc. his clothes literally look like armor, and I'd like to think that hiding and protecting himself "just because it feels right" is exactly the point (no need in armor, he's intangible, so that's a psyche). the very way he completely depersonalizes himself shows that on a subconscious level he is not comfortable being in the conditions he finds himself. this alone may indicate that he is not very happy with his position of a faceless world saviour. and this is his first damn appearance.
Tobi is another manifestation of Obito's escapism, which is the central theme of his story. I have identified three advantages of using Tobi's image for Obito, and all of them will be described below. maybe you'll find some more, feel free to reblog and add your thoughts!
Responsibility
escapism is just stress-relieving. for him, the roleplay was a way to relieve tension from the responsibility that he had imposed on himself. "no one in the whole world can do it except me" must be really exhausting. so what if I just don't be myself for a while? what if I be the one who can make a mistake? it's important to be frivolous and let things go sometimes, otherwise the psyche will be disturbed even more. so, that's the first advantage, that allowed Obito not to go completely crazy.
Regrets
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CH. 652
as I said, Obito is not very happy with his position. even though he believes that tsukuyomi plan is correct, this doesn't negate that he is unhappy to fulfill it and suffer the hardships because of it.
during the war, we can see that Obito really regrets that he hadn't live his life the way he could, with his friends and dear ones. he began to ask questions: "could I have a better life?" "who have I become?" "who does my friend see me as?" these feelings burst out only at the culmination, before that they were deeply suppressed, with the help of detachment from reality, which Obito achieved mostly thanks to the image of Tobi. a ridiculous stupid guy who talks nonsense and does not pretend to be any role other than a comic relief. another personality allows Obito to distract himself from the real problems, which he can't reconcile.
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CH. 281 idk what an idiot. love him.
in order to avoid all these dangerous thoughts for as long as possible, he came to this escapist behavior. it is not only a convenient tool for manipulation (I'm not really touching on that in this post, though it's important too), but it also distracted him from all his regrets. though, it's funny that he still chose orange and purple colors that probably reminded him of the past.
A Sense of Control
it seems to me that this is the most important reason to pretend to be either an inept, complaisant fool or a legend of the Shinobi world. why these two extremes?
many events in Obito's life showed him that no matter how he acts, he will still be punished, which means he personally has no control over anything. during the exposition, he is late helping the old ladies, but Kakashi condemns him no matter what. during the first turning points, he commits morally correct actions in order to end up first being mutilated and isolated, and then lose the most precious (and only) thing he really had: friendship with Rin and Kakashi. in the end, he does not even have control over his own body until he learns to control the mokuton and gets used to the constantly breaking off or deforming limbs. Madara and Tobi appear as other personalities who are able to achieve control under certain conditions and give Obito the necessary mental stability.
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CH. 460
Madara is the epitome of control. the ghost of the Uchiha clan, the fear of which is alive many years after his death. by taking on a character who has more control than Obito did in real life he might feel quite cathartic and empowering, and it offered him a sense of emotional security (the mask helps with it physically, the personality and famous name — mentally).
while Tobi, besides an attempt to make up for lost childhood, is a demonstration of "the lowest standards" so that for once in his life, he did feel that he always met expectations, that more was not required of him. he's incompetent, he messes up, he's irritating, and therefore others don't expect anything else from him. yes, Tobi is judged and punished, but Tobi is not trying to be praised, so his own expectations are not broken.
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CH. 359
Madara's personality is convenient because it's dominant, it controls others, inspires them with a certain fear and submission. Tobi's personality is convenient because with its help Obito choose to show fear and submission himself whenever he wants, that is, it does not become an unexpected blow for him. I would add that similar mental mechanisms work in many types of traumatic experience (not talking about his sexual deviations like moderate sadomasochism yet, the man is clearly traumatized).
does it all work? obviously, yes. there's no point in explaining that this whole Madara thing worked perfectly. Tobi, although condemned by Deidara, is at the same time accepted and encouraged by him a bit, simply because it is pointless to expect anything from him. however, this works as long as the fictional personalities do not overlap, as long as others believe in the reality of both.
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CH. 396
another interesting topic is that Obito himself began to mix these personalities and demonstrate the falsity of one, which deprived him of the very opportunity to avoid reality (Madara clearly reminds him more of the responsibility on his shoulders than Tobi) and relieve the constantly increasing stress. therefore, starting from the moment when "Madara" shows that "Tobi" was just a cover, Obito loses the advantages of Tobi's image, suppressed regrets gradually surface, stress accumulates, the sense of control disappears for lack of any new personality other than his own (which has problems with control). and all these consequences falls on him during the war.
Conclusions
the reasons for this defense strategy appeared in Obito due to his low self-esteem, which was facilitated by the following. the early death of Obito's parents was most likely at the age when he was too young, and therefore psychologically this loss was fixed as "I was left because something was wrong with me. I can't be loved naturally, I need to deserve it first". because of that there was a constant attempt to be better, to reach the level of a genius opponent, who not only shows with all his appearance that you are not enough, but also constantly pokes you in your own shit like a puppy. and that's not the only situation where you're not that good. there's a lot, actually.
such an environment forms an attitude "to get recognition, I need to try harder than anyone else, because something is wrong with me". subsequently, this attitude is transformed into a new one: "I cannot get recognition in any case, which means I will achieve recognition, respect, attention through pretending and forming other personalities". and that's how Tobi appeared.
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I don't even know what to add at the end. it's just great that you can see the depth in Obito, even when he's acting like a moron. here's some admiration for this silly guy
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starryficsfinishwen · 4 months ago
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𑁍ࠬܓ [activation day special] ᴡᴀʀᴍ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ — lee x reader
ㅤㅤyour whispers, sunlight;
ㅤㅤcold hands feeling for mine
syn. ; lee finds comfort in your arms after a long war.
a.n. - I'm sorry I'm super late TvT its defo my fault bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEE I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR COMING HOME TO ME I HOPE U GET A NEW FRAME SO I CAN SIMP MORE!! also I'm really sorry for the slow and bad updates, I was busy for the past few months due to busy sched (eyy thanks uni) and my poor baby lappy unfortunately had her fan broken down so pray she gets her swift recovery soon 🙏🏻🙏🏻 qna: will chrome get his own activation day special? a: HECK YA qna: when? A: yeah imnida
pairing - lee x f!commandant
words - 3,573
content warnings - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW content: cunnilingus, handjob soft sex eeeyyy. mostly soft lee cuz he deserves it after *TOOOT* HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEE
divider/s by @/saradika-graphics
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Warmth. An unfamiliar word, an evading emotion; one that Lee was devoid of for the remainder of his human years.
It was something hard to find. If ever he had it, he would unconditionally give it to his younger brother, in order to make him safe and happy. Even in the darkest days of his human life, until he breathed his last, it was a feeling that avoided him. Would he ever find it? Who knows.
Maybe someone does. Maybe it would be manifested into someone he was long familiar with, apart from Murray, someone who makes his mechanical heart shake. Someone who was then standing by the doorway, whose figure he had long memorized in his M.I.N.D.
You, his precious commandant of the Gray Raven, stood there, bright eyes brimming with curiosity, shaking a familiar brown bag in hand.
“Lee, what is this?” You sighed, with a little laugh, “Can I have an explanation?”
“Good evening to you, Commandant. I am nearly done with my work.”
Sauntering to your desk, which Lee resided in, you eyed him carefully. “Right. Can I ask why you are here, then?”
He held your eye contact for a few seconds, before looking down at the papers, “I am merely just helping with your paperworks. You seemed to have some problems with it earlier.”
“So you decided to distract me with, this,” Shaking the bag, you continued, “... whatever you planned, it’s working quite well.”
It made Lee chuckle. “I’m glad you think so.”
You mirrored his laugh, before pulling out the little trinket in the bag. It was a little blue robot, L-33, one that seemed familiar—a mixed, mini version of Lee and Punchy—that seemed like a toy.
You tapped its head. “Good morning, Commandant.” Echoed an automated Lee's calm voice, “Here are your mission details for today.”
He smiled. “Oh, you found out its features.”
“Of course I did,” you puffed out your chest with pride, “I spent the whole two hours examining him. Watch this.”
Cerulean eyes intently watched as you expertly pushed around a few buttons, promptly triggering the secret sequence. The amusement on his face dropped.
“You…figured it out.”
“Commandant,” the robot cooed, its next few words that were dreadful for Lee to hear, “there’s something I’d–.”
When you blinked, L-33 had shut off, Lee pushing the off button. “–you heard enough.”
A small laugh escaped your lips, “we’ve been teammates for a long while now, Lee,” you teased with a wink, “You think I wouldn’t know your tricks? I also figured out that you purposely gave me L-33 to distract me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You distracted me so you could do my tasks. On your birthday. Traitor.”
The situation was funny. Activation dates—promptly called that way, not really birthdays—were just like any other day. For Lee, there’s nothing special about it.
“The Science Council may have said it’s considered a small break for Constructs. I took it, didn’t I?”
“And you gave that one to me. This is treachery! You were supposed to use that day to spend it with your loved ones!”
Lee pointed at the robot in your hand. “You can spend the day with L-33. Did you read my letter well? I modified its AI to fit your needs. He can answer well.”
“That’s true, Commandant,” chimed L-33, who somehow woke up halfway through, “Please, hang out with me.”
Lee knew you well. From the way your eyes would sparkle when you’re hit with a good idea, or how your eyebrows would knit together when you’re focused on your battle plan, to the shade of pink in your cheeks when you’re flustered by sweet words. The confusion in your face then was something Lee was also familiar with, and he knew how to counter that.
“You’ve rarely gotten any quality rest, Commandant.” Lee spoke, “please use today as a reward.”
Warmth, again, was something Lee had avoided, and if he had it, he was willing to give it to you.
But alas, like the rock that hindered the gears in your head, you were unshakeable.
“...?”
Putting L-33 on your desk, you stomped your way to the nearest chair, sitting down. Bright eyes still not breaking eye contact to look at cerulean ones.
“Since you won’t heed my request,” Emphasising the word, you grinned, “I may as well just stay here, then. I am not in the mood to argue.”
Lee’s patience strummed a chord. Attempting to change your mind, you quickly raised your hand, shrugging, “Ah, didn’t I say I didn’t want to argue?’
Closing his mouth, Lee decided to just drop it.
It took a few minutes—the scratch of pen against paper, the flickering desk light, the soft hum in your lips, and his little childhood melody—before you shuffled to sit closer to the desk.
“...Commandant?”
“Yes?”
Knowing you, Lee decided to dismissed his thought, resuming to what he was doing earlier. It didn't take long. Your humming grew louder, almost ghosting in his ear. Lee sighed, leaning back to welcome you, slithering your leg across his lap, sweetly smiling at him.
“Lee~,” you purred, hands clasped on his broad shoulders, “thank you for the seat.”
Rolling his eyes, he smiled at you. “Whatever makes you happy.”
You were perfectly slotted in his lap, content in how tiny you were that he could still do his work with you. The smell of vanilla permeated his senses, your breathing music to his ear, even and comforting to Lee. He might have had to lie about it, but you were perfect, you were enough—like the piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
“...But I’m not.”
Lee stopped writing, opting to look back at you. “Really?”
Your lips were in a small pout, lipgloss shining in the lights, “Really. I mean, how could I? Imagine taking a break outside; walking around Babylonia, walking around the streets, but you’re here instead.”
“Commandant,” He shook his head, “We talked about this.”
The hands on his shoulders curled, nails rarely scraping his jacket. Seeing your face turn into a sad frown as you bite your lip, a hint of guilt knocks on Lee’s chest.
“...you gave me a gift even though it's your birthday,” Softly, in the cold light, you muttered, “shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
Lee prides in his stone heart. But oh, it was hard to say no when it comes to you. “Well, in a way, it’s still our duty as Constructs to bring our Commandant joy and happiness.”
You sighed, “But I don’t see you that way.”
Lee looked at you in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“I don’t.” You smiled, “Lee, you may be a construct, but you are different to me.”
Your hands, dragging through his shoulders to his jaw, cupped his cheeks. Lee was a construct—blue blood, robotic joints and bodies, built for destruction. But you, human as you were—simple, frail, fragile—and yet, your warmth was far too contagious. He nuzzled your hand, afraid that he’d lose your heat.
“...[Y/N],” Lee rarely called you by your name, but when he does, his voice breaks, turning to kiss your palm, “[Y/N], you are too kind.”
You leaned closer to him, lips leaving butterfly kisses across his cheeks, “I am treating you the way you should be, Lee.”
Like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle, you were a perfect fit for Lee. Kisses on his cheeks, down to his jaw, to the shell of his ear. You breathed into him, ghosting his ear, that made Lee shiver in your touch. His hands found respite in your hips, kneading the area to aid in your movements.
“...by seducing me though?”
You giggled. “Is it working?”
“Mm, a bit.” He sighed in your shoulder, resting there, “But I still have to finish this.”
“No, don’t.” A small whine escaped your lips as you subtly grinded yourself on his lap, “Can’t you see your birthday gift needs your immediate attention?”
A sly little fox, that you were. You had, unknowingly, slipped closer to him, that your warm core was directly on his semi-hard bulge. As you shifted in your seat, Lee groaned at the friction.
“You will miss a lot of these paperworks if I—ugh—can’t finish this…” Lee’s grip on your hips tightened. “What should I do with you…?”
“Do me,” you purred in his ear, “Do me, your gift, Lee.”
Ah, he’d have to use his gift thoroughly.
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Warmth was the feeling, the light at the crack that separated your thighs. One that Lee could drown in as he diligently licks at your cunt.
With a harsh tug of his hair and the sultry whine that slipped past your lips, Lee could die in between your thighs and he’d regret nothing. In the dim light of your room, Lee was nestled nicely down there as you were spread in your bed. Small, kitten lips at your throbbing clit, before lapping at your folds. You forgot how long you’ve been at his mercy, yet the dampness that pooled on your bed could say otherwise.
“L-Lee, ha—haah—wait–” You moaned out loud, “slow down, p-please!”
Pussydrunk, Lee moaned at the feeling, eating you away with no sense. You cried out from the overstimulation, desperately trying to push Lee away. But Lee’s hold in your hips were relentless.
“One more,” he groaned, “give me one more.”
His pants were aching from the tightness, but he was better off rutting his cock at the edge of your bed, focusing on your pleasure first and foremost.
Lapping at your juices, Lee realized why addiction was so potent—if they had seen the way your pussy clenched as he licked you clean, they’d be a devout addict. But he’s lucky, this sight was only his. You, your pretty little, soaking wet pussy was all his. No one else could make you cry out this loud, or the way your face contorted in pleasure—it was all Lee’s.
“C’mon, [Y/N], you can do it, do it for me,” Lee whispered between your soaking wet folds, “be a good girl, you can do it.”
A sharp shiver ran through your spine. Bubbling deep in your stomach, you cried as you felt two of his fingers slip deep in your pussy. “A-ah, Lee, w-wait—”
Sucking at your pearl, Lee’s fingers curled upward, hitting a spongy spot that made your pussy clench hard. With a loud cry of his name, you cum hard for the third time, sticky liquid coating his mechanical fingers. Lee fucks you through your orgasm, mesmerized in the way your eyes rolled back, crying as you arched your back.
“Good girl,” he cooed, “good girl, [Y/N].”
Amidst your orgasm, your pussy answered by squeezing the fingers that were still inside of you. As Lee pulled away, you noticed his chin shimmered with your slick in between the haze, which made your heart flutter. Watching through lust-blown eyes, his cerulean eyes were glowing brightly in the dark, and your only thought was—
“Pretty…”
“Hmm?” Lee chuckled, taking your hand to his lips, “Who is?”
“You,” you lolled, “It’s you…”
You opened your arms to welcome Lee, kissing in spite of his state. It’s hot, brightly burning with passion, humming as you mindlessly kissed Lee again and again, fueled in the heat of the moment. Yet you realized soon that his fingers found themselves grazing your overstimulated cunt, lightly rubbing it.
“A-ah, w-wait,” you whined, weakly pushing Lee away, “not yet…”
“Why?” Lee kissed the shell of your ear, “Is there something wrong?”
Your wandering hands finally found the thing you were looking for. The prominent bulge, sensitive enough that made him groan even as you grazed it with your hand.
“It’s not fair,” you pouted, “let me take care of you, too…”
“[Y/N], I’d much rather help you—”
“—Lee, please,” you pleaded, fluttering your eyelashes, “I want you to feel good, too…”
The fly was already down before he could nod, springing his long, thick cock. Lee breathed out a sigh of relief, but the itch was yet to be itched. Fortunately, your fingers were already running through his shaft, cock twitching from your teasing.
“See,” you sat properly, urging Lee to mirror you, “doesn’t it feel nice?”
You grabbed his shaft, enclosing your hand and jerking him lightly. Lee could hardly contain his moans, cheeks and ears blooming red from your ministration. You couldn't take your eyes off, too—your pretty boy, your Lee, feeling the same kind of pleasure that he had always given you.
“Does it feel good, Lee?” You asked, moving closer, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“Good, ugh,” Lee managed to say, “You’re doing so—hah, really, g-good.”
You’ve seen him naked a lot of times, no surprise to see his long and hard cock, heavy in your hand that you had to use your other one to help. Watching the way Lee’s face contorted as you jerk him off almost makes your own pussy throb, another set of wetness pooling in your thighs. Thumbing his slit, precum sliding off, you wanted to dip your head down and suck him off.
“You really should let me do this, Lee,” you hummed, leaning closer that your lips were leaving kisses on his jaw, “You should see how pretty you are when I’m touching you like this, mm?”
“[Y/N],” a sensual moan of your name rolling off of his tongue, your pussy clenched around nothing in response, “God—hah, don’t stop…”
Gritting his teeth, grasping your sheets as you jerked him harder. Your heart was beating wildly, like how you were too entangled with Lee—too wild, too indecent.
But your movements were halted, Lee’s hands wrapped tight around yours.
“Huh?”
“No,” Lee shook his head, ignoring his hot red dick throbbing, moving your hands away, “I can’t cum like this…I need to be inside of you to do that.”
For what it’s worth, Lee had always been wanting to bury himself deep in your cunt before the fun was over. Giggling at his answer, you pecked his lips. “Okay, okay.”
Thinking it wasn’t enough, Lee pulled you closer to kiss you better. Blind hands sought for the dip of your hips, leading you to his own. With twin moans, your pussy was pushed flush on the shaft of his aching cock. You even had the nerve to drag your soaking folds against the sensitive pulsating vein on his shaft.
“You’re teasing again,” Lee warned as he pulled away for a moment.
“I’m only letting you know how much I want you.”
With lips never leaving yours, you reached for his manhood, angling the tip to your awaiting hole. Lee helped in grounding you, gripping your hips hard as you shallowly fucked yourself on the tip.
“I can taste how much you want me, [Y/N],” his voice dripped in your ear, making you shiver, “Look how desperate you are for me.”
“I am,” you whined, feeling the bulbous tip finally slip past your tight ring of muscle, “I am fucking desperate for you, Lee.”
You sobbed as Lee’s cock was fully sheathed inside of you, already hitting your sensitive spot. Burying your face on the crook of his neck, Lee took the time to caress your shaking back.
“Even after we’ve done this a lot of times now—ngh—you’re still too tight for me.”
Your pussy fluttered around his shaft. “G-glad you think so.”
Attempting to rock your hips to move, Lee stopped you. You pulled back, noticing his gaze.
“As much as I want to move,” He whispered, “I’d like to take the time to admire my gift, please.”
You awkwardly laughed, “I thought you’ve done that before.”
“Mm, yeah, I have.” He inhaled, “but it’s different like this.”
Thoroughly content like this. Amid the dark room, moonlight found itself splattered on the floor, on your bed. Lee took your hand and held it back to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand. Without looking away, his glowing cerulean eyes held too much emotion; there was lust, but they were love and adoration. Watching as he kissed every finger, from the pinkie, to the thumb, kissing one particular finger, lips lingering longer there. A display of emotion, one that Lee has long reserved only for you.
“Did you enjoy your gift, Lee?” You whispered, minding the wild flutter of your heart.
“How could I not?” He said, “You are the best gift I could ever receive.”
Despite everything, Lee is yours. All the pain, all the fear—the Tower, the red tide, the war raging outside of your door—and all you could do was rest your other hand to his chest, the metal cool as you feel the mirroring throb of his mechanical heart.
“Do you know why I love you, Lee?” You asked. He shook his head.
“I don’t.”
“I used to think that we wouldn’t be able to have the luxury for love.”
Looking away, you watched the sea of stars outside of your window. They were twinkling, shimmering; somewhere, constellations blanketed the universe, but they were hiding. You couldn’t care less, but the thought made you think so.
“We’re always sent to battle, and you were made to fight the virus. I didn’t think I’d be able to make a valuable connection, unless it was for the better of the majority.”
Flashes of your graduation from the F.O.S., to your first mission, Kowloong, the church, the Tower—it made you curl your fingers, grasping for Lee’s hand.
“But the Gray Raven…but you, it all changed.”
In the haze of memories, the only clear vision was Lee. Cupping his cheeks, thumb grazing the outline of his jaw, you laughed.
“It’s honestly funny. Gray Raven changed it for the better. But you made me believe that love…it exists, even in this damned world.”
Lee mirrored the smile on your face, as you traced his eyebrows, the shape of his eye, the bridge of his nose. Grazing his lower lip, you lightly left a kiss.
“I’m glad you exist, Lee.” You whispered, “Everything you went through was proof of your existence. I cannot imagine how painful it muat have been, but I want to use all the years of my life proving you that you are loved, that you are deserving of it.”
You’re already pressed flush against one another, but if you could, you’d collide closer to Lee.
“I love you, Lee.” You confessed, “I love you, I will live for you. If you stay on Earth, I’ll crawl out of heaven. Wherever you’ll go, I’ll follow. I never want to be apart from you. Just let me spend all the years with you, to shower you with all of my love.”
Lee took pride in his stoicism. But for you, oh, may that be damned.
Warmth was something he’d not have, but sometimes he covets. But you, you who deserves it all, somehow wants to share this warmth with him, out of all the people. You, who selfishly, gave a warmth unlike others. You, you, you—warm blood, flows freely within you, and you were his, as much as he was yours.
“That’s my line.” He laughed, leaning forward to kiss you, “I’ll love you for all the years, too, [Y/N].”
Every kiss with Lee felt like healing. Grasping at whatever to hold, at whatever skin, you never want to be apart from him. Lee started to move his hips, causing you to moan in between your fervent kisses.
Lee loves you. Lee makes love to you, precisely and deeply plunging his cock inside of you, hitting your sensitive spots. It doesn’t take long though, when your pussy spasmed as you cum through the pressure, crying out Lee’s name.
Lee followed shortly, groaning as he painted your walls, filling you full.
Labored breaths echo throughout the room, two lovers entwined, without the need to break away from each other.
“I love you, [Y/N].” Lee nuzzled in the crook of your neck, “I love you so much.”
“Mm, I think you made me lose the ability to walk at the moment…”
“Consider it a reward. Thank you for being my gift.”
It took a while to settle back into your bed, with Lee wanting to wash you up, but you insisted to stay until the numbing feeling in your legs disappeared. For now then, you were content with Lee on his back, and you sprawled on his chest.
The thump of his mechanical heart was a lullaby.
“Don’t doze off, [Y/N]. I still need to clean you up.”
“Lee,” you yawned in response, “Let’s get married.”
“That’s quite random,” you heard him laugh, “Why the sudden proposal?”
You gently brushed his empty ring finger, “Well, I don’t know what will happen next time. I’d rather have the proof that I’m already taken, and I’d rather have the rest of my life with you.”
“...Unless you like another?” You smugly added, looking up.
But Lee, with a chuckle, only pulled you up, kissing you.
“...We’ll get married, then. Whenever you want.”
“What if I want it tomorrow?”
He’d have to humor you for now, noticing the droop of your eyes. “Alright, sure.”
“I love you,” you dawdled, the last echoes of your consciousness drifting into the sea of dreams, “Lee, tomorrow, okay…?”
“Tomorrow.”
“...mm, don’t forget tomorrow, too…spend your birthday with me…”
“...Yes, I will.”
Lucky for you, a certain ring awaits near your table.
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God pls give me a Lee I love You
— starry needs a bf
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nemastraea · 1 year ago
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Doormat extraordinaire: Andrew Graves is down horrendous for his own sister | Part 1
Or as I like to call it, actual literal word vomit attempting a proper character analysis!
Here's a link to the AO3 version for archive purposes: The doormat extraordinaire has a bit of a romantic streak,
Content warning: This will heavily feature spoilers from Episodes 1 & 2 of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Trigger warning: Abuse, cannibalism, child neglect, codependency, harassment, incest, murder, self-harm, and suicide. Disclaimer: I will occasionally reference an extremely normal essay from Sufficient Velocity commenter Leyleyfication (here). It would be a lot easier to read this essay first as Leyleyfication does a pretty good job establishing the following: - Ashley is dependent on Andrew to assure and validate her of her own insecurities, and - The game heavily implies that Andrew wants to fuck his own sister.
Anyway: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley! A game in early access where a pair of siblings are stuck through a seemingly never-ending quarantine together, desperate not to starve to death. When their cultist neighbor dies in a ritual gone wrong, they rationally resort to cannibalism. Fun!
I am definitely going to assume that you read Leyleyfication's extremely normal essay (I am on my knees, begging you to read that). Which is why this essay immediately starts with, "yeah, Andrew definitely wants to fuck his sister" as its baseline.
What I will be adding to that funny little cauldron of fucked up sibling dynamics in a horror visual novel are the following: Andrew's fixation and sexual attraction manifests as his desire to control, dominate, and possess Ashley. And it is framed as a fatalist attraction and the totality of his existence (for worse or even worse).
Because of Tumblr's limit for 30 images per post, though, I'm going to have to split this extremely normal and reasonably lengthy essay into... multiple posts! Yeah! I have no idea how long this will fucking go!
So first things first: how can we tell that Andrew is even attracted to Ashley in the first place?
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Nemlei (Devlog 05). Note the hickeys above and below Ashley's choker and her left inner thigh, and Andrew's left hand creeping into her right thigh.
As Leyleyfication points out, the game primes us to believe that Andrew is a pushover and Ashley is his abuser. This occurs in the Steam page as it explicitly says Ashley is "in fact, very bad" and Andrew is a "doormat extraordinaire." Moreover, it's very easy to tell that Ashley is, on some degree, obsessed with Andrew:
She's happy to hear that Julia broke up with Andrew over the phone;
She repeatedly accuses him of finding the Lady from Room 302 attractive and he 'tried anything with her;' and
Her flashback to wanting to punish her friend Nina ("the Bitch in the Box") for crushing on Andrew.
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Episode 1, dream and memory. Leyley previously said that Nina should know better than to 'steal from another woman,' referring to herself. The implication that Andy is hers is toyed with after this moment, when she says she'd put Andy back in the box.
The game does prime us to think that Ashley is Andrew's abuser. It also suggests that Ashley projects an unrequited and incestuous love onto Andrew. Before we consider Episode 2's narrative, Episode 1 gives the initial impression that if Andrew comes to reciprocate her feelings, it's more of a reaction and subsuming to her will. That it may not be something he wants for himself and independent of Ashley's manipulation.
But again, I do believe Andrew wants to fuck Ashley. And always has been. He just frequently vacillate between 'subtle' and 'really fucking obvious' tells that completely take advantage of the game's third person limited POV.
Keep in mind that both Andrew and Ashley are extremely unreliable narrators. We aren't going to get information they personally do not care about and that is on top of our own choices as the player.
(A digressive example: you will not learn that the founder and CEO of Toxisoda's company was a former surgeon unless you interact with the television in Andrew's Episode 2 dream and memory of their blood oath. Otherwise, it neatly ties into the surgeon that Mrs. Graves conveniently says she was directed to regarding the siblings' quarantine in the main story.)
When it's really fucking obvious
When you play as Andrew in Episode 2, his post-dinner argument with Ashley carefully frames them both. They are cramped in the foreground and Andrew's left arm is conveniently blocked by Ashley and the kitchen knife, as seen here.
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Episode 2, common route. Prior to this, you can interact with Mrs. Graves for her to pointedly comment on the siblings being inseparable.
At this point in the game, their physical closeness is something we're used to by now. After all, we've already seen Ashley on his lap at least twice; Andrew slept in her bed in Episode 1; and Ashley confirmed they've shared the same motel bed multiple times in the one-week interim between Episodes 1 & 2.
But the game abruptly shifts to Mrs. Graves' POV when she enters the scene and not only do we see the two as physically close, but we notice a few more details.
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Episode 2, common route. The first picture transitions from Andrew's POV to Mrs. Graves as it introduces us to her entering the scene.
The contrast of how spacious the kitchen is from Mrs. Graves' POV to Andrew's cramped POV is obvious. More importantly, Andrew's fingers loop through Ashley's belt loops when the two are huddled together. When Mrs. Graves clears her throat, the two don't really separate.
Ashley pivots on her left foot so that her body is turned to their mother, not Andrew, but she doesn't step away from him. Andrew, meanwhile, recoils from Ashley and withdraws his hand. But he isn't turning his body to face their mother like Ashley does here. His attention, at least in this moment, is still towards Ashley (and, yanno, the sink).
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Episode 2, common route. Two things to consider in the second picture: Andrew hides Ashley's bite mark on his cheek with his left sleeve and he conveniently moves the pillow from behind him to his front.
The 'tell' isn't so much as the two are unusually physically close. Again, we're used to that by now. But it's how the two siblings react whenever Mrs. Graves comes into the picture. Ashley doesn't really give a fuck about whether or not people assume the worst of her or even her intentions regarding Andrew. To Ashley, their proximity is normal and anyone who sees that as a problem is not worth an explanation or reason.
But Andrew is at least subconsciously aware it's 'not normal.' As far as these moments are concerned, Andrew instinctively tries to do damage control by either putting space between them or keeping his hands occupied so they aren't visibly touching Ashley. Still, he either does not mind or actively appreciates his physical closeness with Ashley.
When it's really fucking obvious (but only in hindsight)
In Episode 1, Ashley passes out after trying to clean up after the apartment. Regardless of her passing out in the living room, the bathroom, or their parents' room, she will wake up on the couch with her head pillowed by Andrew's lap.
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Episode 1, Ashley's POV. Andrew's hands often hover over Ashley's head, but more than that—
I personally didn't notice this until I replayed Episode 1, when I basically have the hindsight of Andrew's fixation with hair. But yes, his fingers idly twirl through the ends of Ashley's hair as they watch TV. It's implied that Andrew can and will do this when Ashley pillows his lap, awake or asleep. He does not recoil from it when Ashley does wake up and later on, in Episode 2, even continues to brush it from her face.
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Episode 2, common route. Ashley fell asleep at the passenger seat, so Andrew had to have transferred her to the back seat to pillow her head again. Though, technically, she's more cramped at the back seat than if he'd just reclined the passenger seat.
So far, we've seen that Andrew has a natural tendency to not only be physically close to Ashley, but to hover over her personal space and be in constant and direct contact with her. Whether it's by having her head on his lap, twirling her hair through his fingers, or even constantly grabbing her by the head in various states of comfort, playfulness, or outright threat (but let's put a pin on that for now).
The weight behind this candid contact shifts when Episode 2 draws a pretty explicit parallel between Julia and Ashley. Assuming that you interacted with Julia's landline and heard Ashley's voicemails, you know (and Andrew knows) that Ashley draws that connection herself:
DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to... It's not you he seeks out. It is me.
Episode 2, common route. Andrew's dream and vision implies that Andrew's heard these voicemails before.
That connection extends to the hair contact as well, as Andrew goes in to hug Julia, cards his hand through her hair and requests she tie her hair up.
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Episode 2, common route. Andrew's dream and memory of Julia when they're older. From the use of Andrew's present-age portrait, suggests is closer to the timeline of the game's events than his and Ashley's memories as Andy and Leyley.
From this moment, we can have one of two assumptions: either Andrew wants Julia's (black) hair put up like Ashley's, or Ashley caught onto Andrew's hair kink and puts her hair up to imitate it.
Regardless, we infer the following:
Andrew teases affection through touching and even pulling on one's hair.
His fixation on ponytails and pulling on them does not exclude his own sister. It still stands and without reservation, perhaps more explicitly since he can do it so candidly, as we saw before.
The last of that Julia-Ashley parallel is self-contained within Episode 2. But only if you end up in the Burial route regardless of Ashley's platonic or incestuous vision.
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Episode 2, common route (first picture) and Burial route (second picture). It's worth pointing out that Andrew is actually disinterested and moody during his conversation with Julia, and only perks up when he mentions Ashley or feigns care for Julia (since he extends his care of Ashley to her as well).
The game ends up drawing parallels on how Andrew treats Ashley, for better or for worse, with his ex (which is definitely worse, poor Julia). In doing so, the game blurs the lines between romantic affection for Julia and 'platonic and familial' affection for Ashley.
Y'all, this isn't even getting into how Andrew respectfully gives his parents space and only crowds them when he threatens them with his cleaver. In his mind, Ashley and Julia are in that same space of physical and romantic displays of affection; something he reserves only for them (only without reservation for Ashley) that does not extend to anyone else. His ex-girlfriend, and his sister. Shit's wild.
When it's obvious BUT it's violent!
That isn't to say that his hair fixation (hair kink?) is completely innocuous, though, as it rears its ugly head (pun unintended) in Decay. Which is what that previous pin was for! Yay!
You end up in the Decay route if Ashley doesn't trust Andrew with keeping an eye on their parents. Here, Ashley sleeps on their parents' bed by herself and has an alarming vision: an unknown party chases after her through the in-between and when they catch up to her, it's Andrew. Ashley has nowhere to run and Andrew eventually grabs her and threatens to kill her.
Whether or not Ashley can defend herself depends on Andrew expending all of her gun's ammo when he deals with the hitman, or not. But that outcome divergence will matter much, much later (so that's another pin for us to come back to).
The sequence of events actually mirrors the way the siblings ambush the Lady from Room 302 back in Episode 1. There, Andrew closes in on her and grabs the Lady by her wrist and uses his front to pin and restrain her. With his cleaver to her throat, the Lady is completely at his mercy.
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Episode 1 & 2, common route (first picture) and Decay route (second, third, and fourth pictures). Note that Andrew restrains the Lady from Room 302 by the wrist while with Ashley, by her hair.
Andrew asserts control of the person and the situation through violence. Whether it's by killing them (the wardens) or by threatening physical violence (the Lady from Room 302 and Ashley). It's always on the table for him. As Leyleyfication puts it, "He's so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence [here]."
That violence includes Ashley. It's always on the table where Ashley's concerned. The game even juxtaposes when Andrew threatens violence and physical assault 'playfully' versus when he's seriously out for blood:
When you interact with the wall of call girls' numbers and Ashley jokes about leaving her number on the wall, Andrew 'jokingly' threatens to backhand her for even thinking about it.
When you interact with their parents' latched window for a second time, Andrew 'teases' slapping Ashley if she doesn't find a way to open it. (Ashley jokingly asks if it's on her ass or at her face, and assumes it must be the face when Andrew says she'll have to find out.)
The two other times that Andrew exerts violence against Ashley are both in Episode 1 & 2. We can remember when that happens in Episode 1, when Andrew's had it with Ashley's fits and threatens to kill her:
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Episode 1, common route. Y'all, Andrew was choking her hard enough for his grip to bruise.
It happens again in Decay when he confronts Ashley about repeatedly calling him Andy and therefore, breaking the promise he coerced her into from Episode 1.
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Episode 2, Decay route. Another thing to keep in mind is that Andrew's outburst is preceded by Ashley prodding him about his current state and insisting that Andrew was fine with 'Andy' during their home invasion.
In Episode 1, Andrew resorts to harming Ashley because he's fucking had it with her accusing him repeatedly of trying anything with the Lady from 302 and, in her eyes, his 'infidelity.' Where she accuses Andrew of not loving her enough that if his eye catches another girl, he'd leave her behind or flip on her. In Episode 2, she's poking and prodding on his boundaries on 'Andy' and whether or not, once again, he's with her on their now-committed life of joint crime.
If I can give another example, it happens in Andrew's common route memory of Nina's death and his blood oath with Leyley.
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Episode 2, common route. Prior to this, Andy expresses immense exasperation at Leyley's tantrums over him 'thinking about that bitch again.' When he goes to grab the kitchen knife, cleans it, and returns to Leyley on his bed—he's briefly considering killing her.
Andrew threatens Ashley violently whenever he intends to confront her on her perceived brattiness, for lack of a better word. And keep Leyleyfication's essay segment on Ashley's insecurities and need for Andrew's validation in mind here—when Ashley does this, she wants and even needs Andrew to comfort her. But her aggression treads Andrew's patience and really, his tolerance of her behavior.
When Ashley's anger, clinging behavior, insecurities, and possessiveness of Andrew slips his control and tolerance, he resorts to violence to coerce or even dominate her.
I think (or hope, if it's clear enough) it reinforces what Leyleyfication points out:
The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don't mean in the sense that I'm saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this.
It also reflects on another aspect of why Andrew resorts to violence: in all three situations, Andrew remarks on Ashley's behavior and her sake. If she acts up again once they're out of the apartment, it'll cause trouble for him while they're evading authorities. If she's going to call him Andy from hereon out, what's the point of running away with her. If she expects him to leverage keeping 'her secret,' he won't because it's for her sake.
Andrew rationalizes his attempt to control of Ashley's behavior as being for her sake. But really, isn't it him confining her behavior to something he can tolerate and personally handle?
I'd also like to point out that Andrew admits that he noticed Ashley push for calling him 'Andy' during the home invasion, and he did not argue with her on it while they held their parents hostage and readied to sacrifice them. We can infer that when Andrew calculates his use of violence, that can also factor when, where, and how he exerts it.
--
Well, that's where I can reasonably end this half of my word vomit! Now, onwards, to part 2!
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pubbamoon · 5 months ago
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Top 5 placements from my natal chart I like
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Hello, it's me! Before I get into a topic, I would like to thank to everyone who has supported me for a couple of days. It really means the world to me. My second astrology observation about the planet Venus in houses really blew up and it got over 100 likes/notes in its first 24 hours, which I did not expect at all. I'm glad you like my posts and that you can resonate with the words I write. So, I was thinking for hours about what could I do next and decided I'm going to make an observation on my favorite placements from my own natal chart, which is a very 1st house Mercury thing, hahaha, lol. Hope you wouldn't mind this kind of observation.
Moon Trine Venus - This is my tightest aspect in my natal chart (0° 12' orb) and I'm glad it is. I think this is a beautiful placement which gives natural beauty. These planets are placed in the earth signs in my chart, which gives very grounding energy. People always tell me how I'm so grounded and stable when they see me. I love this placement, you can be loved by everyone basically. Trine is a harmonious aspect which can tell about our talents, so this aspect can make someone talented in arts. Love that!
Sun in the 1st house - This placement can be truly a blessing when you use it the right way. Of course, it depends on the position of the Sun too. For example, I do have Sun in Aquarius, which is a detriment position for the Sun. But regardless, having Sun in the 1st house can make you confident and to have a strong personality, which I think it's so important. This placement answered my question why have I always been by myself and independent for my whole life, haha.
Pluto Sextile Ascendant - Pluto represents power, obsessions and even sexiness, while Ascendant represents ourself, our body and our overall life. Those natives could have very powerful presence and persona. It can make someone being beautiful and having a sex appeal too. When I'm interested in something, I can become obsessed with that and I think this could be the manifestation of this aspect.
MC ruler in Leo - Midheaven/Medium Coeli/MC is all about career, reputation and how you seem to be like to other people. Leo, on the other hand, is associated with creativity, entertainment and being the center of attention, which is great for careers in creative pursuits. My MC ruler is also at 11 degrees, which represents internet and technology. I basically make an astrology content here on Tumblr and I think that's creative. My MC ruler is also retrograde, so it could be a little bit harder for me to get successful in career.
North Node in the 5th house - North Node represents our life mission and something that could be hard for us to establish. It tells us what should be work on to maintain our life purpose. The 5th house is all about having fun, creativity, children, entertainment, hobbies and doing something what we like to do. While it's hard sometimes to work on that placement, I always feel guided to be in present moment and have fun a little bit more. It's lovely to me when your life purpose is needing to have to be comfortable with yourself and doing something creative.
That would be all for today. Thank you again for supporting my astrology journey. Hope that this resonates if you have this placement in your natal chart. Wish you all love and luck.
Best regards,
Paky McGee
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genericpuff · 9 months ago
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This has been buggibg me for a while. What is the reason why Rachel dehumanizing nymphs?
Cause from what I'm seeing the nymphs getting the most screen time is Daphne, Minthe, Thetis, Psyche and a little bit of Leuce and Echo.
4 out of the 6 nymphs we see are very open in their sex appeal and flirty. Yet for some reason they get discriminated when Hera, Persophone, and Aphrodite do the same thing but get a pass because the are white coded rich people.
For my knowledge (but I could be wrong if so please correct me) nymphs are known to be seductive and sexy but they were well respected just like any other God. They were given given sacrifices to please them.
Is this just another case of Rachel being the so-called "folkorists" who has done the first Google link she see or could there just be how she interprets then but like the rest of her story misses the mark?
So there are a couple different and equally interesting theories on this.
Rachel has established it as canon that the nymphs are lower class. And there are a lot of stereotypes and prejudices against lower class women going into sex work, which we see in LO through characters like Minthe who work as car girls (notice how in the present story Thetis and Minthe are both personal assistants which is also a role that's commonly stereotyped as "the boss' sidepiece" as it's a role often occupied by women in service to men). Even Leuce isn't safe from this:
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Normally I'd just say "good for her" but it's clear with how much Leuce has been turned into the delusional girl who "manifests" her fantasies that Rachel is once again conflating sexuality with more negatively-associated character traits for any woman who isn't Persephone (because when it's Persephone it's sexual liberation always, she's not a "sugar baby", she's a "workaholic" who "earned her position and wealth", but when it's Leuce or Minthe or Thetis they're "homewreckers") And yeah, this is a common disconnect that happens between lower class and upper class people, where lower class people (especially women) are often judged and outcast for doing certain things or behaving a certain way which rich upper class people take and adopt and turn into something "trendy" and "empowering".
But there's... another theory that may explain why so many nymphs in the story are being pigeonholed into the "homewrecking sugar babies" stereotype. And you're gonna hate me for this, because I'm sure the gut reaction to reading this from many is gonna be "goddamit not Lolita again!" buuuttt yeah we're gonna talk about Lolita again.
CONTENT WARNING: We're talking about Lolita again, which means discussion surrounding the sexualization of minors is ahead.
There's a certain term the main character of the book Humbert Humbert uses to describe girls who are specifically, and I quote:
"Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travellers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as 'nymphets'." - Lolita, Chapter 5, Page 18, paragraph 5
It's also very clear from the way Nabokov specifies the definition of nymphet from Humbert Humbert's perspective that the use of the word 'nymphet' is intentionally referencing the root word of Greek origin:
"...I would have the reader see 'nine' and 'fourteen' as the boundaries - the mirrory beaches and rosy rocks - of an enchanted island haunted by those nymphets of mine and surrounded by a vast, misty sea. Between those age limits, are all girl-children nymphets? Of course not. Otherwise we who are in the know, we lone voyagers, we nympholepts, would have long gone insane."
Though Humbert Humbert is obviously not being literal here, the visual metaphor is strongly relying on the etymology of the word 'nymph', but twisting the depiction of nymphs in such a way to support his own fantasies.
And while I'm definitely not trying to accuse Rachel of having the same mindset of Humbert Humbert (seriously, I want to make it clear that I don't think Rachel is a pedophile, just horribly misled at best), it's interesting to me how this specific definition of a nymphet matches with that of Rachel's old descriptions of her own art:
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"You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine (oh, how you have to cringe and hide!), in order to discern at once, by ineffable signs - the slightly feline outline of a cheekbone, the slenderness of a downy limb, and other indices which despair and shame and tears of tenderness forbid me to tabulate - the little deadly demon among the wholesome children; she stands unrecognized by them and unconscious herself of her fantastic power."
What's interesting is that I did dig up an old profile of Rachel's that actually acknowledged that what she's doing with her art shouldn't be conflated with, well... child porn.
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"It's not THAT kind of lolita" and yet the writing feels like it's been smeared all over the wall with shit. There are so many scenes and artistic choices throughout LO that scream "it is that kind of lolita".
Though it is still a theory, and I don't resort to using Rachel's old art of "proof" of LO's shortcomings, I don't think it should necessarily be ignored that the nymphs in LO seem to be characterized very similarly to Humbert Humbert's description of 'nymphets' - devious and promiscuous, and thus easier to blame when predatory men pursue them, rather than holding those predatory men accountable. And we see this in Persephone too, but unlike the nymphs, Persephone is rich, upper class, and of a "superior pedigree". So she becomes the desirable form of a 'nymphet' that's praised and celebrated by the narrative and characters like Hades, rather than the literal nymphs who are shamed and outcast for simply having sexual independence.
Whatever theory you roll with is on you, you can dismiss all this as just overthinking nonsense, but I do think it makes for interesting food for thought because at this point, LO is undeniably - intentionally or subconsciously - influenced by Rachel's relationship with Lolita, and whether or not that influence is aware at all of Lolita being originally written to be a precautionary tale, that remains to be seen.
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elliesmainhoe · 2 years ago
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Flour and Jam
Streamer!Ellie X Fem!Reader
Summary: Yours and ellies attempt at a cooking stream
Contents: fluff, fluff and more fluff, food fight, general chaos.
My Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (you're here)
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"Welcome to my kitchen" Ellie said, looking into the camera that was situated on a tripod resting upon the islands wooden countertops.
User1: New room unlocked 🔓
User2: omg are we cooking?
"Yes we are cooking, thought I'd do something special for you guys to celebrate hitting 500k on YouTube- which is honestly insane."
User3: Been here since 5k on YT 💪
"And due to this being a very special stream I have a very very special person to keep me company!" Hearing your cue, you stepped Infront of the camera "And because I can't trust Ellie to not burn down my house." You add on, smiling mischievously at her annoyed expression.
User4: my favourite person ever 😭
User5: One chance Y/N, plssss
User6: Ima steal Ellie's girl, just you wait and see
User7: omg look at how cute they look together 🥲
User8: The Y/N and Ellie tiktok editors are already screen recording this for later lmao
"Shut-" before Ellie could finish her sentence you pecked her lips- catching her off guard and laughing as you saw the chat go at the speed of light.
User9: Stop I'm so lonely 😭
"Your so lonely? L"
"Ellie! Don't be mean?" You scold her, shoving her shoulder playfully.
"Why?"
"Because I said so, be nice"
"Yes ma'am" Ellie replies, her right hand lifting into a mock salute as she laughs.
"We are going to make a cake. What kind of cake you may be asking?" She spoke, replying to an invisible comment.
"No one asked that baby" you laughed,, reaching up and messing with her hair. Her mouth went to retort but before any words could fall out you cut in front of her "yes I know I'll 'shut up'."
"Were making a 'victoria sponge' cake, because Y/N knows how to make it and there is a higher possiblity it will turn out least half decently" she grins, looking down at the ingredients you'd laid out on the counter. Eggs, flour, sugar, butter, vanilla, cream, jam (jelly if your American), icing sugar and strawberries.
"It'll be great, we'll do so well. I 100% believe we will make an edible Cake" you affirm, lying but trying to be positive.
User10: Uhuh very convincing 💀
User11: manifest it besties
•••••••••
"How the fuck have we managed this?" Ellie laughed out looking down at the mess you two had managed to create.
"I honestly have no idea" you reply looking at the copious amounts of flour and various sticky substances that coated the counters. "It could honestly be a modern art piece" you hummed
User12: Girlie said modern art
User13: #1 modern art hater for life
Ellie began spewing jokes, continuing to crack eggs and whisk, even though you'd told her to stop adding anything ten minutes earlier.
"You really have no regard for my advice, huh?"
"Nope." She said back to you, the familiar annoying grin plastered on her freckled face when she heard your disappointed sigh.
User14: she looks so done lmao 😭
You move out of view of the audience, silently searching for some emotional support for the foreseeable future. You entered the living room and the familiar ball of ginger fluff you were searching for was curled up in the cat tree you and ellie had bought him for his first birthday. After a few seconds of internal conflict on whether to leave him be or disturb him you decided on the latter.
Picking up the grumpy cat, who made his displeasure known by letting out a tired yowl as you cradled him, before coming back into the kitchen. "I needed some emotional support."
User15: Garfff 😭🐱
User16: pussy lol
User17: Everyone needs emotional support due to this chaotic asf stream lmao💀
You stood back, cradling Garfield in your arms, letting Ellie have free rein, giving a few tips and advice that were swiftly dismissed by Ellie as she continued to do her own thing, including putting salt into the batter instead of sugar, even though you had literally put out all the ingredients for her beforehand which did not include salt.
"Taste test?" Ellie asks, turning around to face you, a wooden spoon in hand a scoop of beige mixture on top of it. "Absolutely not".
User18: DO ITTT
User19: do it! do it! do it!
'User30 donated $50: 'Do it Y/N, also congrats on 500k on YT Ellie <33'
"You hear the people. Taste." Ellie laughs thrusting the wooden spoon towards your mouth.
"It's confirmed, you all hate me and I will never forgive any of you for this" you scowl, opening your mouth hesitantly, allowing Ellie to place the spoonful into your mouths. The overwhelming taste saltiness hits your tongue immediately, making you gag at the unpleasantness.
You immediately rush over to the sink, spiting out the mixture, grabbing a glass of water and washing out your mouth, trying to rid it of the after taste that lingered behind. You hear Ellie's laugh from behind you, the only thing going through your mind was revenge.
Flour. Perfect. You reach into the half full paper bag pulling out a handful. Ellie was otherwise occupied, talking to her chat and answering donations, so when a handful of flour exploded in her face, it's an understatement to say it caught her of guard.
After recovering from a coughing fit triggered by the powder, she reached into an open jar, said jar having fresh strawberry jam inside of it. You saw this and of course, you began to run away, trying to get away from Ellie and the weapon that was her handful of red jelly. Eventually she caught up to you, her empty hand wrapped around your waist pulling you into her body as she smeared the sticky substance across your cheeks laughing at the ridiculous expression on your face.
Because your body was pushed against hers, the flour that coated her body transferred onto you.
"OH FUCK!" You yelled "my new sweater..."
"oh look, Y/N's discovered that her actions have consequences." She grinned cheekily, leaning down to kiss you, the jam from your face smudging onto hers.
----------
Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @strawberrysmoochesxo @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo
NOT PROOFREAD
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elismor · 7 months ago
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I see a lot of posts going by about comments and kudos and hits and...well... I've been thinking about the three quite a lot lately--as both a fic author and someone who spends a lot of my professional life looking at web metrics and determining which are actually important/accurate measures of user engagement.
Mileage varies, of course. And this is all just MY opinion, so do feel free to ignore it wholesale.
What I think when I see someone say that sorting by a hits to to kudos ratio is a good way to find "good" fic:
Hits are a measure of quantity (how many times your story or art has been viewed), but without knowing how AO3 defines a hit, it's actually kind of a meaningless number.  We know that our own views of our work do not count toward hits, but...if my BFF looks at my story 7 times in one day because she keeps trying to read it but getting interrupted...is that one hit, or seven? And if it's seven, then the numbers are artificially inflated because it's really just Bestie trying to get her Codex fix. And...if Bestie looks at it three times today and four tomorrow...is that 7 hits total, or two? 
Some transparency on the part of AO3 could clear this up handily, but until we get that...shrug. All it is is a number that may or may not be an accurate reflection of how many actual people looked at the page your fic is on.  Did they READ it? Or did they nope out?  No way to know.
Kudos are intended to be slightly more qualitative, but there is no way of knowing why the reader gave them. (Similar to likes here on tumblr.) It might be that they loved the piece. It might be a simple acknowledgement that the reader was there. It might even be a pity kudo. We have no way of knowing. It's, again, just a number.
Obviously, everyone is free to interpret both hits and kudos as positive reaction/interaction. I might do that myself if I didn't spend my workdays explaining to people that 50,000 "hits" to the website could be 50K people who came to learn about us or...simply the result of the computer labs on campus having the university homepage set to default.
Bigger numbers are just that....bigger numbers.
Comments are the only objective way to judge how someone is reacting to your fic or art.
So, what then? Sort by number of comments?
You can do that, sure. (I think. I confess I have never once gotten the AO3 search to work as well as people rave about.) But do keep in mind that many authors answer their comments. So, something with, say, 20 comments may be 20 people telling the author they loved it. Or it might be ten people and ten author-replies. OR, it might be three people having a conversation in the comments. You have to look and see.  
Bigger numbers are just bigger numbers.
Okay, fine Elis. What am I supposed to do then?
Look, I'm not your mother or your therapist and you are free to assign whatever meanings you like to these things. I, personally, find "good" fic through a combination of things including: recs, the fandom grapevine, dumb luck, events, and just...reading some of it and not feeling guilty if I nope out for some reason.
This all sounds a little depressing when laid out like this, huh? Especially when you take into account the downward trends in interacting and the rise of folks treating fic and art as content to be consumed. 
Here's what I have learned from writing fic for 30 years (well, 28 and counting):
As an author (and an artist, I would presume), you have absolutely no way of predicting which of your work will land and take hold and which will not. It's alchemy and luck and the weird (and not actual) algorithm of fandom. Sometimes, the piece you whipped out in 30 minutes and posted on the fly will land in the right person's inbox and they will share it and their friends will share it and it will get big.  Sometimes, the piece you slaved over for weeks and weeks will do that...sometimes it won't.  Sometimes your genius manifests and resonates, sometimes it does not.
My personal favorite fic of my own--the one I think is probably the best thing I have done in SW fandom-- has like 8 kudos and 4 comments (2 of which are my responses). Is it disappointing? Yes. Is it an indication that the fic is objectively "bad"? No.
The mercenary in me suggests that if you want to get lots of comments and kudos, you should pick the pairing that is THE pairing in the fandom and write for that--because that's where the eyeballs are, because that's where the connections are.  But that is not why I write, so it's just that--a very mercenary way of looking at things. Not that there is anything WRONG with doing it that way. Supply and demand run the world. If the people want Codywan and you want the people....give them Codywan. No shame in that.
And there is no shame in wanting or seeking validation for your work, either.
But it breaks my heart to see authors (and artists) give up on themselves when they do not receive piles of kudos and comments. It's not you. It's...the luck of the draw. It's...fandom. It's...an artificial and murky set of measurements that have almost no basis in anything meaningful.
Keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing. You are what you make, not how people respond to it.
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justajsworkshop · 1 month ago
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There's so much content, so many opinions on what works and what doesn't. I'm just scared to commit because I dont want to waste my time following the wrong teachings and rules😭Its been years in this community. do you maybe have any advice for me? As in who/what I can follow and what to do?
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my advice is to take a step back and think about this from another perspective. let me give you a hypothetical:
for two seconds, just pretend that manifesting doesn't exist, and we gotta do everything the good ol' 3D way.
you have a friend who wants to lose weight, but they've never been to a gym before, they don't know a lot about healthy eating, they have no clue where to begin. they start researching weight loss tips but everyone is saying different stuff. keto, paleo, veganism, carb cycling, reverse dieting, lift weights, do cardio, workout every day, get rest days in, get 10k steps a day, etc.
this friend is frustrated, confused, and worried about how they're going to achieve their goal when everyone has different advice and perspectives. they pick up one approach for a day or two, maybe even a week or two, but ultimately back down from it because they're afraid it's all been a waste because someone else said something different works better. they're making zero progress along the way and losing faith in themselves and their ability to "do this right."
they come to you for advice and ask: what do i do?
what's your answer?
and i literally mean tell yourself the answer because your advice is going to be the best advice for yourself since no one knows you better than you. the biggest piece of advice i could give you right now is to learn how to become your own best friend on this journey.
there's a lot of different voices and opinions out there because there's literally infinite ways to manifest/shift. there is no one right way; there's only your way. manifesting isn't about what so-n-so says on zwitter or what j posts on tungles. it's not about methods or processes. it's about YOU.
at a certain point, you gotta be willing to break out of your fear and break some eggs to make an omelette. try stuff, test it out, see what you like and don't like. you're never going to find the right approach that works for you from the sidelines. no one likes to talk about the trial and error period because they don't wanna come off as limited, but honestly, some stuff you can't find out for yourself unless you just give it an honest shot to see if it resonates for you.
focus less on committing to/doing the wrong thing and adopt a growth mindset around this. be a scientist. experiment, document, reflect, iterate. like, you literally cannot "lose" anything from that perspective because you're always gaining knowledge and understanding of yourself and what works/resonates with you.
i really don't get why people are so afraid of trying because idk, maybe it's just my business mindset, but in business, we always say "fail fast." cuz when you do, it breaks you out of this overwhelming fear of messing up. just do it imperfectly. do it scared. do it confused. just TRY NEW THINGS and see what happens. no one can deem what does or doesn't work for you but YOU.
conscious manifesting is not a spectator sport. it's literally in the name lmao. you gotta be a conscious, i.e., an active, participant in the process. don't confuse this with efforting hard. you really just gotta be aware of yourself. that's it.
i know it's not the sexy "just decide you're doing it perfectly" -- which you def can do, and this helps. really, start encouraging yourself and telling yourself you're doing great and youre proud of yourself, too. healthy/positive self talk works wonders. but sometimes you literally just have to get over your own fear and insecurities and just try shit out because reality can't move until you do. you might as well start now!
really, just break some fuckin eggs.
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