✨ The collection of my Mari Lwyd art through the years ✨
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First art is called: “Dude… give me the bottle” (or when you lost a rhyming contest against the supernatural skeletal horse)
Second art is a meme reference x)
Third art is featuring Mari on her day off (hence no rhyming, but she wouldn’t say no to a treat)
Plus other stuff, silly sketches and artworks, like Mari Lwyd in modern times being disappointed that nobody wants to rhyme with her anymore, so she has to buy everything herself (featuring a distant relative of the guy from the first piece, plus a Waterboy mashup).
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P.S. - don’t forget about the frogs in some of the arts
Mandatory winter reblog of my Mari Lwyd post, now updated with new artwork 💅
December is my birthday month (in the end of it), so I’m very happy to have such a wonderful cryptid on my side
[id: an animated illustration of barry styled like a video game screen. he is a chubby human with light skin, short brown hair, a light beard, & glasses. he is standing with his hands clutching his head & a frustrated expression. a dialogue box in front of him reads, “taako… what if she’s just gone?” a cursor hovers over three options: “she’s not gone,” “we’ll find her,” & “who?” for the former two, a pop-up reading, “option not available” appears before the cursor moves down, finally landing on the last option, which lights up yellow. a filter of static flickers over the image. /end id.]
It’s kind of sad, really. She was pretty quiet before she got turned, but now that your friend is a vampire, she’s… silent most days. It’s hard to say chalk it up to something specific. Sometimes you think it’s that you and your friends’ have switched hanging out to overnights instead of during the day, and you can’t exactly be boisterous and loud when everyone else is sleeping. Occasionally, you wonder if she’s frustrated that she can’t see herself in the mirror, but digital photos work just fine, and becoming a creature of the night has done wonders for her complexion, and everyone tells her.
You think you know, though. What’s really got her quiet. She’s really good at hiding it, just like she was good at hiding things when she was alive. Before, she would just put on a brave face and laugh things off. “No, of course I don’t want to be a girl”, “No, of course I’m fine if you don’t invite me out”, “No, of course I’ll top and I don’t mind”. You were the one to see past all of that. You coaxed her out with gentle talks, you were the one speaking quiet, honeyed words long past everyone else had gone to sleep and it was just the two of you, like no one else existed.
So you know exactly what’s wrong with her right now. You recognize when she stifles herself all too well.
Someone tells a joke and the group laughs. She smiles – cute, she always showed her teeth and now you can see the little pointed ones – but doesn’t really laugh along with them. She shudders softly, rubbing her arm. You track her eyes, and they’re moving along one of your friend’s necks. They laugh, and her eyes flicker with the movement.
They catch yours for a moment, blood red like gorgeous gemstones, and she turns away quickly, evading her gaze. She’d be blushing if her heart still beat. But you know her. You know what she needs.
The friend group peels off, one at a time each going home to sleep or get to work, until it’s just the two of you. Empty streets in the early morning, still hours before morning light, quiet and vacant. Your breath carries in the air – she has no breath to speak of. She’s quiet again, like always. You take the lead, veering off the path toward a park. It’s pretty public, but there’s a wooded area near the back that’s usually not monitored by park rangers. You aren’t going to say why you know the best wooded places to hide from authority figures.
She’s confused but follows diligently, bobbing along behind you. Sometimes you wish she could turn into a bat so you could put her in your pocket. But she’s cute enough as is.
You’re finally far enough off the beaten path that no one can see or hear, if some night jogger were to come by, or some ranger looking for troublemakers.
She smiles crookedly, cocking her head. “What’re we…?” You swallow hard, deliberately, and watch her eyes track down to your neck. Like you knew they would. “U-um… what…?”
Your fingers are trembling when you reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. She startles, nearly jumping out of her skin as you pull it over your head, finding somewhere nearby to set it, neatly folded. Then you lean back against a tree, leaving your bra on and looking up at her, brushing your hair behind your back and out of the way of your neck.
“You’re hungry,” you say with a smile. “You’ve been eating out of IV bags for so long, you haven’t had a warm meal probably since you turned.”
“No,” she says quickly, waving her arms. “No no no, I-? I can’t-?”
“Hey.” Your hand reaches out, catching her wrist in your grip. Her skin is cool to the touch, and you can feel the strength beneath the skin. Like if she moved the wrong way, she’d rip your arm out of your socket. It’s kind of thrilling to know she could hurt you, and the restraint she shows to keep you safe. “I want it.”
“You…?” She pauses before her eyes go wide. “What?! Why-? I-! You can’t-?”
“Please?” you ask softly, taking your hand back and brushing your fingertips along your chest, shoulders, neck. “I’ve got a first aid kit in my backpack. You can bite wherever, it’s fine.”
“That’s not-!” she replied weakly, whimpering softly. The way she trembled, eyes wide, mouth hanging open as she panted softly… That’s it. You got her. You know her like the back of your hand.
You reach out to grab her again, pulling her toward you. She moves willingly – you don’t have the strength to move her otherwise – and lightly presses her body to yours. Even through her clothes, she’s cold. She doesn’t need to breathe, but she’s panting now, cold breaths along your neck as she leans in.
“This is messed up,” she mutters softly, hands finding your hips.
“We both want it,” you retort. “It’s consent.”
“I… I won’t want to stop…” she whimpers, lips brushing up your jaw.
“You won’t drain me,” you smile, hands tangling in her hair. “I trust you.”
“I’ll need more,” she pants, uncontrolled now, tongue licking a stripe up your neck as she moans. “I won’t ever want to stop feeding on you, ever.”
You pull her in closer, feeling her lips and teeth press up against soft, sensitive skin. “I won’t want you to,” you reassure her. “Please.”
The first bite is like heaven. Needles aren’t pleasant, but this feeling is… different. Probably something to do with the venom vampires have, some sort of anesthetic. There’s a pinprick of pain, heat that floods your entire body, and then you feel the fangs sink beneath the skin. You can’t help but whine at the feeling, grabbing her shirt and pulling her, closer, closer, needy. You want more.
Teeth pierce through you, and when she starts drinking, you feel like you could get drunk off of it. Blood loss, maybe, or… maybe if you’re being honest, you’re a glutton for it. You’ve wanted her to bite you since you learned she turned. Since you got that timid coming out text, her quietly mentioning she’s a vampire now, you’ve wanted her on top of you. Strong hands holding you under her, teeth biting painfully into you. You can feel her groaning and panting, eyes wide and watching you from your neck.
“Good girl,” you moan, petting her hair. “You’re doing amazing.”
She whimpers, almost sobbing, drinking even deeper from you. Your legs go out at some point, and you find yourself falling to the ground. She catches you, sets you down, straddles your lap and keeps drinking, never leaving your neck. You can see yourself getting paler as she drinks from you. You do trust her, but… fuck she’s drinking so much. Her own cheeks are flushed bright red now, your blood in her veins, filling her with strength and warmth.
When you start to see spots in your vision, you gently tap her shoulder. Her eyes find yours. It’s strange to see a girl pout while her teeth are buried in your skin, but she manages, and it’s adorable, and you have a tough time getting her to stop. But if you didn’t, you’d probably die.
She pulls away with a gasp and a pant, mouth bloodied from your wound, happily lapping up the remainder as she moans and shivers. You can tell she’s as worked up as you are about it. It helps that when she’s done cleaning your neck with her tongue, she shoves it into your mouth. You taste yourself in a way you aren’t used to, but you taste her, too. She’s warm now, fingers cupping your face, holding you in the kiss as deep as she can get it.
When she pulls away, the world is darker than you remember, swimming with fog and popping little stars.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly, nosing up under your jaw.
“Really dizzy,” you slur. “Gonna pass out.”
“I’ll take you back to my place,” she smiles, picking you up like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You smile at that – she never lets anyone come over to her place. It’s a rare honor. “Thank you. Really. I needed this bad.”
“Mm, not so quiet now,” you giggle, drunk from blood loss.
“I’m not,” she admits, able to blush properly now. “I hope you’re alright sleeping over for a while. It’s been a long time since I’ve had proper blood, and I’m not going to want to stop for days.”
Days of being bled dry by her, drinking from you, touching your bare skin, biting you over and over and over.
Will be very gentle. He will give you a massage or draw you a bath to take together. Overall, he loves spending time with you after sex
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Gwledig values his intelligence and magical abilities, so he would pick his brain, but he is also proud of his horns
For you, he has no preference; he loves quite everything about you, especially your human ears! They are just so cute and round!
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He tasted his own cum one day for research purposes. It was.... Okayish at best? He doesn't understand why some people get so excited about it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Secretly afraid you think he was unfit for your first time together, or that he performed badly.
Will you soothe his worries, darling?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Less experienced than his twin, between 2 and 3 partners, but he knows his art quite well!
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He loves hugging you in all circumstances, but he is a sucker for a good ol' mating press
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
If he feels you are stressed and on edge during sex, he will crack some jokes to help you relax and smile.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
No hair but on his head, like all elves.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He will hug you, kiss you, intertwine your fingers, snuggle in your embrace, etc...
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Gwledig was disconnected from all things sexual for a long time, so he jacked off very rarely...
And then he met you <3
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding (he is not Aodh's twin for nothing), size difference, cock warming,
Pretty vanilla, all things considered, but he is willing to experiment for you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Bedrooms, his office, his library, where the risk of being spotted is minimal, and he can take his time
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The intimacy sex provides and your warm embrace
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything dangerous or unsanitary
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He is a natural at giving, he just doesn't have enough experience under his belt to realize it. (but you did <3)
Enjoys receiving, it helps him relax and soothe his mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He just follows his instincts and your guidance.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not a fan, prefers to take his time with you (unless he is very pressed by the rut)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will accept AFTER he has studied the risk in question extensively
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He is an immortal elf... Chances are you will black out before he starts to feel tired.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't own toys, but things can change.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Likes to tease a little to heighten the tension, but overall, very fair.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He is vocal, but his volume is pretty quiet.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He just wants to live simply with his family, his spouse, his children, his books... But the throne's shadow weighs on his conscience every day, so he postpones that dream of his again and again
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
The man is a TALL and BROAD elf, and his cock is proportional to the rest of his body
Prayers to you
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
It is quite low except when it is time for the rut
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He prefers for you to fall asleep in his arms first
It was long time coming, I hoped you liked learning about best boy Gwledig <3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
M!Troll x f!reader (oral:male receiving, dry humping, light humiliation/degradation)
2.2k words
Suna was sweet, and a welcome distraction and change of pace from Ba’tual. Ba’tual was fine ignoring you, but
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It was early when Suna left. Early enough where the sun was just barely creeping through the window when he gently rubbed your back to wake you where you still slept on his chest.
“I should get going” his breath tickled the top of your head, “Don’t mean to sneak out, I’d rather just not make it awkward when you’re talking with my clan and they’re giving me dirty looks for sleeping with the archivist.”
You conceded and rolled off his chest, though it had been nice sleeping all cuddled against him. The cheap little room you had been renting was supposedly heated. Supposedly. But most nights it still got cold enough where you slept fully clothed and with extra blankets. Not with Suna though, he gave off so much body heat, no clothes or extra blankets needed to keep warm.
“And maybe we can grab dinner again tonight and pick up here after? I still have some tricks to show you” he said.
You sleepily just nodded your agreement into the side of his arm.
A few hours later you dragged yourself out of bed with some difficulty. Your thighs were definitely sore from riding him, and waking up warm and cozy was making it a lot harder than usual, but still you wanted to wash up a bit. The cheap little room you had been renting didn’t have its own bathroom, but there were toilets just down the hall at least and baths on the ground floor.
The bath situation left a lot to be desired. You sat down your soap, towel, and clean clothes by the tub and began the annoying process of pumping and heating the water one bucket at a time. It had been a long time since you had a full bath where you could just relax and soak. Typically you just heated up enough water for to wipe yourself off and on rare occasion to pour over your hair to wash it. You had heard that the homes built into the cliffs themselves had running hot and cold water. That there were reservoirs of water within the rocks and mazes of pipes carved to let do all the work. You wondered if Ba’tual had a real bathtub.
After a quick breakfast at the inn, you made you way back to the hold, hoping that the bath helped you look put together despite your clearly sore legs.
It was business as usual around the city, you even got lucky and Ba’tual was nowhere to be seen outside of the hold. All morning Suna did his best to catch you eye whenever he looked up from whittling, giving you sly smiles that made it difficult to focus on anything else when it was making you think about last night. Despite his distractions, you did still manage to take good notes, filling out gaps in your knowledge from previous conversations, squeezing in any last minute questions.
The sun was only just starting to set by the time you left for the evening. Suna stood waiting outside for you, fidgeting and looking around until he saw you and his face lit up.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving” you told him, “You ok with the same place as before?”
“For food? Or after?” he teased and nudged you.
“Both.”
“Oh, I made something for you” he rummaged through his pockets and took out a little carved wooden token, “It’s just my clan on one side and my name on the other. If you’re ever out in the grasslands and run into a hunting group and show them that, they’ll help you out.”
You took the token. A smooth, round, wooden disk with some jagged lines on one side that looked a bit like a mountain, and runes on the other side that must be his name.
“Thank you” you tucked it into your pocket and smiled. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting, just being nice, or if this was a common minotaur thing, but regardless it made you a little giddy.
“Soooo,” he began again, this time sounding a little nervous, “Dinner?”
The two of you headed off. His clan had long since dispersed, helping him feel a little braver and walk close enough enough for his arm to brush yours as you made your way to the tavern.
“Urgent message from your camp” a voice called after you. A voice you recognized.
Ba’tual trotted over to the both of you, long strides quickly closing the distance.
“From my camp? I was just with the huntsmasters, surely there’s a mistake” Suna said.
“All I know is that someone from your camp came running into the city looking for you, it seemed serious” Ba’tual shrugged.
Suna looked between you and Ba’tual for a few long moments before speaking to you, “I’m so sorry, just let me handle whatever this is. I’ll come find you after, ok?”
“Yeah, that’s fine” you said.
“He seems nice” Ba’tual mused as soon as Suna was out of earshot.
“Be honest” you turned to Ba’tual and snapped, “was someone really looking for Suna?”
“I’m currently on duty, and I happen to take my job seriously.”
You looked him over. He really didn’t answer you question, just the implication that he wouldn’t lie like that while on guard. Not that you fully believed him anyway.
“You two seem close” he remarked.
“Like you said, he’s nice.”
“He gave you something” he pressed.
“Yeah, and it’s none of your business.”
“And you fucked him” this time there was an edge in his voice.
“And what makes you say that?”
“He went back with you last night, and then left quite early this morning.”
“And how would you know that?”
“So he did?”
“Are you following me?”
“No. I have better things to do, but another guard mentioned it to me. There’s only a handful of humans here, people take notice of you. Best keep that in mind when you’re sneaking around.”
“I’m not sneaking around. I’m an adult, I can do what I want. And besides, it’s not like you and I have been on speaking terms, so it’s really not your business” you snapped a bit more aggressively than you meant too, “But for what it’s worth, I still am really sorry for what I said and what happened.”
“Then you can make it up to me.”
You drew in a deep breath, trying to remember all the carefully worded apologies you had rehearsed. Looking for the words to convey how sorry you were and offering to get you both dinner and just reset things between the two of you. Before you even had a chance to start talking Ba’tual started walking off with only a quick “follow me.”
It was difficult to keep up with his long strides, but at least you weren’t going far. Only to one of the storage buildings around the hold. It wasn’t a large building, and it seemed everyone had left for the night, just rooms of guard equipment sitting quietly.
Ba’tual led you to the back of the building, to a door he quickly unlocked. It was another equipment room, but the gear stored here was much nicer. He locked the door behind you.
“Equipment storage for the kingsguard,” he explained, “only a handful of people have a key to here and no one is going to come here off duty.”
You just watched him as he unbuckled his belt and started unlacing his pants, realizing how he intended for you to make it up to him.
“Get on your knees” he directed you as he slid his pants down, already hard cock springing free as he sat down at the little table there. “If you want to prove to me that you’re sorry and want to continue things, come use that mouth for something for something more useful than words.”
You knelt down between his knees hesitantly, stone floor cold under you, wondering if this was really a good idea. It would be nice to be on speaking terms with him, and the sex was good, if not a bit rough. He was a easy, no strings attached hookup, the perfect person to definitely not get attached to while you were here.
Slowly you ran your tongue up his balls and along the underside of his shaft. Every little sound from the outside world made you jump, constantly swearing you heard footsteps coming the hall, putting you on edge. Still you continued, slipping his tip between your lips and sucking on it while you looked up at him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “you look so good on your knees.”
Slowly you took more of him until you were in danger of gagging. You wrapped one hand around his base, the other you used to cup his balls and play with them.
“Come now, show me how much you missed me fucking you” the fake, saccharine edge seeping into his voice.
You took a deep breath to steel yourself and took more of him. Doing your best to quell the gags as he entered your throat, muscles spasming around the intrusion.
“Good girl” he rested his hand on top of your head and scratched the top of your head with faux affection, “You know it feels so good when you gag like that.”
You did your best to block him out, but it was hard to ignore how his words made a warmth pool low in your belly. He knew what he was doing, he could be unpleasant and aggressive, but he knew how to control a situation.
“So close. It’s just a few more inches, you can do it. Can’t you?” his words were sweet, “Show me how much you like this, I know you must be wet. If you’re good for me now I’ll take you home and remind you that I’m bigger than a minotaur.”
You whimpered at the thought and couldn’t help but try to grind against where your legs were folded under you, anything to get a little relief. Ba’tual seemed to notice, an almost wicked smile on his face from knowing he had his claws in you.
“Oh, poor thing. Do you need some help?” he teased and stretched one of his legs out and between your thighs, encouraging you to grind against him instead.
Abandoning what little of your dignity you were trying to preserve, you shimmied to get into a better position and groaned once you settled into a good rhythm against him.
“Now show me how much you want this” he said.
Taking another deep breath you took the rest of him down your throat, gagging horribly but getting a loud moan and praise for Ba’tual for doing it. You pulled your head back so you had room to use your hand once more, setting a steady pace of bobbing your head up and what of his length you could take comfortably while matching with your hand.
His balls twitched and throbbed in your other hand as he started to cum and he used his grip on your hair to yank your head down and get his cock down your throat. Thick, hot spurts sprayed down your spasming throat while he praised you for taking him so well.
He sat slumped back in the chair for a few long moments afterward, cock still half hard and throbbing. You looked up at him, just waiting to see what he would say. If your somewhat humiliating efforts of blowing him in a storage room while humping his leg met his criteria.
“Are you hungry?” he asked a bit too nonchalantly for the situation.
“Yeah?” you hesitantly answered back.
“I’m going to drop you off at my place. Take a bath while I go pick up dinner. I expect you to be clean by the time I’m back with food.”
“What?”
“The inn you’re staying in doesn’t have running hot water, right?”
“Yeah? Why do you know that?”
“Because it’s a freestanding building not by a cliff, they never have running hot water. So I’m guessing that bathing is a pain in the ass, and you don’t strike me as the type to go through the effort of filling a tub one bucket of hot water at a time, so when was the last time you actually bathed? Not just halfway scrubbed off.”
“It’s be a while” you muttered, now worrying if you looked dirty all the time.
“Exactly. So you’ll bathe while I’m out because you aren’t getting into my bed like that. Ok?”
“Ok” you agreed.
He stood up and reached down to give you a hand up. The cold, hard ground hadn’t done your legs any favors and you wobbled horribly while getting up and leaning on the table for support.
“Better get those legs stretched out, I’m not carrying you, and you better keep up” he said while lacing his pants and buckling his belt.
On the topic of training and kink, I think one of the most fun kink group activities for me over the past like half year has been playing the training game. I've probably spent at least ten hours playing it with friends over five sessions or so over the past several months.
So, the training game comes from Karen Pryor's Don't Shoot the Dog. A book on animal training that I highly recommend. It's played with anywhere from three to ten people, ideally in the same room (though we've made discord calls work for international friends). All you need is an open space (it doesn't even need to be clean), and something like a clicker (whistling or snapping works, if everyone can snap).
To play, one person is designated the 'animal', and sent out of the room, where they're expected to not listen in. One person is designated the 'trainer' and given the clicker, and the trainer along with the group will then decide on some simple task. I've seen "hug a blahaj", "sit still on your bed for thirty seconds", "twirl and then curtsy", "do a push-up", "put the dirty dishes away", "kiss two plushies together", "crawl towards me on all fours", "throw a specific plush", "put your head in your hands", "take off your shirt", and "touch your nose to the bed". To name a few.
Then, the animal is summoned back into the room. No one is allowed to talk (except the animal, though the things they say might as well be barking for all they matter), and the trainer must through using only clicks guide the animal into performing the desired behavior. Standard practice is for the first few clicks to do a full reset of the room (with the animal leaving and returning) after, and occasionally to do a reset from then on. Thus, the goal of the animal is to try different behaviors and through trial and error physically discover the task. Everyone except for the animal and the trainer is to merely watch, and while they are permitted to laugh or groan non-volitionally, they are discouraged strongly from attempting to communicate directly.
The fun of the training game, in a kink sense, is severalfold. First, the animal's behavior is directly being shaped by the game. They are being forced to think with their body, and they are simultaneously the center of attention and being analyzed. The trainer meanwhile is directly getting to shape their behavior, and enjoying that power dynamic. There is something truly special about guiding a sub into what might normally be a demeaning behavior, or just forcing them to do something cute on your command.
The utility of the training game, in a training sense, is simple. It teaches you how to understand how an animal perceives the world, it teaches you how to communicate without language, and it teaches you the importance of timing in operant conditioning. Finally, it teaches proper usage of a clicker. All of this is, if you have a kink for training, immensely useful.
I really enjoy the skill expression of it. Learning how to time the clicks to keep your animal satisfied with a difficult task, learning how to time the clicks to keep your animal from going down the wrong path, learning how to read what your animal is thinking on their body language and react accordingly. ...Also I'm probably like. one of the worst in my group at being the animal. There is a certain headspace with it, it rewards thinking with your body and not your mind. And I'm not good at that! I should also note that it can end up being a pretty good exercise for the animal.
The "discord call" adaptation of the training game works less well along a few factors. You'll all want to make sure you are intimately aware of exactly how long the ping delay for sending a "click" is, and I recommend highly using the soundboard for it. I will note that while the animal will need video, and a camera that can see a wide range to move, the trainer doesn't. I found the adaptation to be somewhat less euphoric but sometimes even more rewarding with difficult prompts.
Finally, playing it. I recommend rotating through animals and trainers, so everyone gets to be in each role at least once. Ideally, with every possible permutation. Additionally, try to start with very simple objectives, like picking up a specific object or making a specific movement. Gradually increasing the difficulty over time will make the game more exciting. It can be as quick as a single round or as long as multiple hours of play. It is fairly involved, but I think keeping it low stakes is for the best.
Anyway, the training game is, as you can see, not explicitly sexual in any way. And depending on the choice of objectives, it can lean more or less erotic, though being the designate 'animal' and 'trainer' will always be erotic to the right ppl. If you have a kink group, it can work as a pre-scene activity, or even just a casual thing to play while other things are happening. If you're interested at all, I highly recommend getting a group together and trying it sometime.
I feel like I have fairly weird thoughts on collars because I don't really get much from them as pet specific for myself in the traditional ways I see most ppl posting about. collaring someone is a good like marriage type ritual except i don't like marriage. but i still generally like them mostly for corruption reasons.
Is there a normal amount of time to think about the skin on your neck? If you focus you can feel all the bumps and grooves along it through your proprioception. But through touch as well it does have sensation if you focus. The air brushing against it or the warm air stale around it. Maybe even hair brushing against the back of it. At this point maybe even phantom sensations of hands grasping it. How vulnerable it feels having it pointed out. Be a good toy and lift your chin a little. Show it off for me. How do you think real people feel when they see your neck? When they see the skin what emotions does it produce? Thinking on it, doesn't it feel exposed? Empty? Should it feel like that? Is it supposed to? Is it normal to feel like your neck is naked? You can hold a hand around it to try and see if that helps. Maybe it will but when you do inevitably have to take it off you'll be back to feeling naked. Fixate on that feeling, too. A cold absence. An intimate place unguarded. A proof of being unowned. Something that I hope you can realize is unusual for you at least. Undesirable. Unpleasant. Unnatural. Shouldn't a thing like you have an owner? Shouldn't a thing like you have a collar wrapped around your neck?
hey when you make posts, i just want you to know, thou/thee/thy/thine/ye are like he/you(object)/your/yours/you(subject) okay? "thou art wearing shoes," "i will wear shoes for thee," okay?
you say thine if the next word starts with a vowel and thy if the next word starts with a consonant and they both mean "your" so "thine own shoes," "thy shoes," okay?
and ye means you and refers to the subject of a sentence, "ye members of the brotherhood of shoes," okay? you need this information to create better knight yaoi. i'm personally more interested in nun yuri but we are a community
It rings hollow. It disgusts me. It is a lie, and there is nothing we detest more than lies.
But it proves that he is a fool. So I demand more.
‘May I have your assistance?’
‘Of course. Anything you want me to do.’
So his fate is sealed.
I ask him back to mine. To tidy up and arrange the place. To help in my work. Of course, he is inept at first. He was not raised to place flowers in vases, or use a broom, or organise a library.
So I make him adept. For each of his failures - each mote of dust out of place, every fallen petal in the garden, all the slight imperfections - I change him. He is the first thing to go. The mind follows shortly after, with the body trailing behind.
She is now hollower than ever, yet no longer hollow at all. She is adept, her porcelain fingers better at the housework than ever, her new shiny joints no longer complaining from long hours working in the garden, her unblinking eyes finding every little detail to correct and make proper.
Her new voice, light and musical, no longer elicits such disgust in me, for it cannot tell the same lies that the old voice, so coarse and grating, could.
After a certain amount of time, which I do not care to describe for time means little to us, she tells me this:
I swear it's not a sex thing when I say a spa day when you're taken apart sounds lovely. I mean this as like, any kinda body but I'm gonna put it in doll terms so I'm not just writing gore on people's feed.
Imagine being taken apart piece by piece. Arms and legs gently popped from their major sockets, revealing the universal joint inlets which have never known air, which are so normalized to the sustained grinding of ball joint against socket. How it would feel for a surface which has only ever known enclosure to be exposed to cold, fresh air. Like finally undressing after a long, exhausting day. The sheer relief of such a stifled part of you getting to finally breathe.
Can you imagine the strange tactility of your screws unwinding from their wells, rising out from where they sit deeper than skin. Your body becomes unpierced and what was once concealed surface is revealed to the world.
You're deconstructed, from the outside in, until you lie in an organized sprawl of pieces. Disassembled joints and clockwork mechanisms, disconnected outer shell lying evenly spaced for when it's time for you to return as you once were. You are no longer of one mind. A hazy consciousness spread in fuzzy fragments across all of you, no longer joined for the burden of cohesion and function. No responsibility but to bask.
Then, either piece by piece or in groups when reasonable, you're washed. Treated with adoring hands like an art or antique restoration, every single piece of you must be fresher, cleaner, ready again to meet the world with a calm smile. Even the smallest little pieces bathed in their own little tubs until the stains of age and soot have left them, your most intimate and internal faces scrubbed with soft bristles to wash away everything but your best self.
Then, with the greatest of care, you're put back together. Everything in place, working just as it should. Not a single ache or pain and full of energy. Like you'd just slept a thousand years and woke up only when you'd forgotten what tired even felt like.
Again, not a sex thing. This is like, normal and I mean this all in a "that's really nifty" kinda way. Don't get any ideas.
God I would love to do this to someone. To treat someone like the most precious and important thing in the world, to show them how deeply they are loved. I dearly wish to show that they are loved and valued not merely as a whole, but that each and every piece of them, from their face to the smallest screws and gears, is just as valuable.
I'd even take things beyond the washing. A doll needs touch-ups and repairs don't they? I'd inspect every outer shell piece for chips in the paint or dents in the material, and fix each defect with loving care. I'd make sure each gear and piece of clockwork was in tiptop shape, and lubricate them well to insure they perform well once reinstalled.
It just sounds so perfect. I want to take care of not just a whole being, but each individual piece of them too. To love someone so fully would be truly such an intense and intimate experience. I crave that kind of intimacy so badly.
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