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Dear god please write more of brainwashing you and your partner into one. This has awoken something in me that I cannot even begin to describe.

I sat and thought about what I would want to say about this that I haven't already said on my blog and it made me realize what I actually wanted to do was make a Discord where folks, myself included, could discuss that sort of thing. Here you go.

#also at some point I might make a post about dollmaking

pull-the-thren

Hello!

First time anon here, I just wanted to say I love your post about two partners becoming one!

My partner and I stumbled into this sort of dynamic by accident. We’re super similar people and found that we’re eerily in-tune emotionally and mentally, often finishing one another’s sentences, passing things without having to be asked, etc.

It started off pretty small at first, but it’s gotten to a point where we essentially don’t have to speak to one another when we’re home alone.

We both find it crazy hot, and I thought we were alone in this, so it’s cool to see others having the same attractions!

Personally, I really enjoy fauxcest dynamics, so we’ve been sort of combining the two. I’m not sure if that kind of thing interests you, but it’s been great for me so far! (Ex: you look just like daddy, twin play, siblings -> twins, you’re gonna be just like me when you grow up, blah blah blah).

Just wanted to share a bit of my experience and maybe inspire you or others because a girl DESPERATELY needs more of this content.

Peace and love,

🌷

This is really lovely, thanks for writing in! I miss that feeling of not needing words; thanks for reminding me of it. I know exactly what you mean and it's worth pursuing and having :) Personally I do not care enough about the opinions of corporations to call it fauxcest but I am very happy to call my partner Mom when it feels appropriate, etc.

Wishing you the best!

pull-the-thren

Oh, I want to let you know something:

You are not alone.

I have met a bunch of folks who are like us to some degree or other. It isn't common exactly but there's enough that you could have a small informal gathering of them and be socially exhausted by it, just counting ones I've met. I think by nature those of us doing what I'm doing are less inclined to socialize, but I've absolutely seen folks who hear my story and go "oh that's like me and my partner, we're kind of intentionally merged at the hip and it's too weird for most people."

I think that's where some of the isolation comes from, although believe me I am also a fan of just staying the fuck away from everyone who isn't my baby. Feel free to drop in my server if you want to meet a few aspiring and active mutual thralls (the same untagged heavy kink warning my blog has applies). The world's a strange and wonderful place :)

aeserathedreamer

angelgirl instant loss with this one simple trick

sounddesignerjeans2

She stumbles into your kitchen.

"Wh wha whaaaat is haaappening?" she quavers. Her stumbling is disoriented in ways with no human analog, her off-kilter movements alien on a human level but all too familiar to you.

You stand up leisurely from the table. Your movements are precise where hers are clumsy - you've learned how to be helpful without getting caught in the fray. You reach into the fridge. You get milk. You're making her a protein shake.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you toss over your shoulder, your easiness, like the rest of your demeanor, calculated. "I assume chocolate's ok, and dairy?"

"MmmAAAAAAAA," she shrieks. "WHATDIDYOUDOTOMYHALO?"

You stir, sitting back down and setting the protein shake across from yourself. At an angle, so she doesn't have to face you direct to accept. "Here, have this first. You'll feel better." This is the touch-and-go part - the halo's inhibition against violence, rage, spite, and bitterness is off. She hasn't sorted out yet that she doesn't have a reason to hurt you, that the halo was designed to keep her living in baseless fear that she was a monster because it made her easy to control. She's liable to lash out, so setting the tone is important.

She sits. You smile, putting genuineness into it. Underneath, you sense you've caught her - she hasn't figured out she can choose not to follow instructions. "Drink up."

She sips, then drinks messily. You laugh, tell her it's ok, grab paper towels. She doesn't seem to notice, lost in the pleasurable sensation of taste, and of something substantive going down her gullet. You mop up, then sit across from her again.

"It's good, right? You feel a little steadier?" Interaction reactivates the rage and terror and she begins screeching about her halo again. "Ahp! You feel a little steadier, yeah?" She nods.

"Good. Ok. So, I'm gonna take care of you, and it's gonna be ok. I'm not going to have all the answers the way you want me to, but you're gonna keep noticing that I'm trustworthy. I want you to imagine that you got your arm really fucked up from some shrapnel getting in it that got infected. Not too vivid, just for the sake of argument. Ok, love?" She nods again. "Now, let's say I've removed the shrapnel, and I've gotten a lot of the infection out. If I touch right where that shrapnel was, it's gonna hurt. And I'm not gonna have easy answers to how you heal, except to tell you that you know how to heal. And that's kind of a mean thing to say to someone with a bloody arm. So instead I'm gonna tell you that you're in good hands, to get plenty of rest, and to do your best to trust and be patient with me."

She looks you over, assessing you. "My halo was... the shrapnel?"

"And your psyche grew around it. So I'm not gonna touch it, or the parts of your psyche that grew around it, super directly. But I promise that's not cause I don't have an eye on that part of your psyche. It's just that it's a kind of fucked combination of inflamed in a 'wanting answers' way and inflamed in a 'responds best to indirect intervention' way. In due time it'll feel better."

"... why do you do all of this?"

You shrug. "When you're not part of the divine order, you have to make your own hobbies. Mine is this."

Her gaze sharpens, and for a moment you're startled, as the angel is truly looking at you for the first time in the conversation. "You can interface with the grooves where my halo was. Don't you need one to do that? Do you need help?"

You shake your head. "I'm old school, babe. They made halos after they made me. I just speak the language."

She sighs, nods, and makes her way unsteadily to her feet. "If you need me, I will be in the bedroom." She collides with a wall.

You sip your coffee and grin. She really is cute like this.

Hello!

First time anon here, I just wanted to say I love your post about two partners becoming one!

It started off pretty small at first, but it’s gotten to a point where we essentially don’t have to speak to one another when we’re home alone.

We both find it crazy hot, and I thought we were alone in this, so it’s cool to see others having the same attractions!

Just wanted to share a bit of my experience and maybe inspire you or others because a girl DESPERATELY needs more of this content.

Peace and love,

🌷

Wishing you the best!

pull-the-thren

Dear god please write more of brainwashing you and your partner into one. This has awoken something in me that I cannot even begin to describe.

shattered-sex-kitten

good discord, this girl knows the owner. keep in mind, it's a brainwashing/magic server, not a misogynykink server, so like... self-filter based on that lol

pull-the-thren

A server can be two things.

#we take freaks of all stripes here

ace-trainer-alice

it's also quite cute how some unaware type tf smut is basically just dramatic irony kink.

smallerfish

was actually completely unaware i had a dramatic irony kink until you posted this

pull-the-thren

oh, sweetheart. we all thought you knew. the narrator's been talking about it for a while now.

bunnymedley

girl who thinks uppies means upskirts and gets disappointed when you just pick her up instead of flashing. like wtf it's even harder to see your panties from up here

pull-the-thren

girl who thinks uppies means upskirts and there are two very different understandings of what's going on when you lift her to about chest height and she goes "higher! higher!!"

#or better yet one very clear understanding and it's both

bunnymedley

girl who thinks uppies means upskirts and gets disappointed when you just pick her up instead of flashing. like wtf it's even harder to see your panties from up here

bunnymedley

girl who thinks uppies means upskirts and gets disappointed when you just pick her up instead of flashing. like wtf it's even harder to see your panties from up here

bunnymedley

girl who thinks uppies means upskirts and gets disappointed when you just pick her up instead of flashing. like wtf it's even harder to see your panties from up here

had a Bambi blog like Hunger and kind of had to think a second. like yeah I guess a member of the cult of the bimbo tulpa would like that post.

#may she be nutritious to you the way EAT was to **********#we do have a girl in-system who draws shtick inspiration from BS so I'll be thinking about this connection a little

inviting requests btw, if there's anything anyone wants to see me write about

#this should be obvious given the blog but like yes this includes asking me to write about your fetish of choice #no need to be shy the worst I'll say is no

hello new friends! if you're here about the molding yourself to each other post please do not hesitate to send asks and such asking about my experience and advice :) I have been doing this for a couple years now and actually coach others in how to set up things like this as part of my income so I am more than happy to see, encourage, and assist more interest in this weird project of mine called destroying your social identity and replacing it with the reflection of yourself in your partner's eyes :3

pull-the-thren

Hunger

There’s a shape you learn to make when you’re small and scared. If you’re a certain kind of sensitive to it I bet I could press my hand up against you, limp at the wrist but pushing out at the edges, and you’d recognize it. And it’s the movement that you learned made things happen.

The sum total of every time that you bashed your head into a wall and called yourself an idiot, the learned attrition of acting out, every authority figure imprinted into your brain for a pretty straightforward purpose.

EAT.

You were born alive and knowing you wanted to stay that way, and food was important. And so you learned how not to push. You learned to be gentle with the figures who kept that circuit lit. When you were hungry, you cried. When you learned that that got you nothing, you screamed. You learned that that was met with yelling to pipe down, so you were quiet, and then tried again. Nothing, and then more yelling when you got louder.

You would not understand why eating food from someone you didn’t trust with your life made you want to throw up until you were twenty-seven.

And so you learned. You learned that the louder was yelling. You calibrated carefully and it imprinted into your neurons. You could feel it in your every breath. You could feel it catch when you evaluated other threats in ways you wouldn’t identify until later, places where your pattern-recognition would tell you that soap was going to yell at you if you didn’t use it properly and you wouldn’t think about it in those words until much much later.

You would learn every interaction this way. You would find out that your mannerisms made you a creep, and this provided your burgeoning pattern-recognition mesh with a framework to understand itself through. It was abundantly apparent that you were supposed to make friends and love people, that this was how to connect and live, the way the EAT impulse pointed towards. And so you learned how not to do (cry louder), with your body, so there wasn’t yelling (leaving you). You kind of shrunk when someone got near you and beat the shrinking shape into something that wouldn't make people leave you for sniveling like that.

This was not good. Eventually you hit college. You picked a major you burned out in. But you made friends. And the friends were cool. They were queer and you had not had openly queer friends before. They were okay. They didn’t seem to know what to do with EAT and you watched it throw them around the room a little bit like a poltergeist. You were very concerned about whether it was your moral responsibility to “control” EAT and its (avoid: leaving you) tendrils that patterned throughout every conversation you made. EAT did not seem to be so concerned with this. Your friends tolerated her until she saw herself out in a messy and dramatic fashion that would characterize your twenties.

EAT would begin dictating the way that you tried to move on and fail upwards. Relationships ceased being about surviving, let alone thriving, and began to be about who could stand to be around her while you tried to figure her out. You would have a conversation with someone and feel (avoid: leaving you) creep out from your intuitions across their words, driving spikes into how you spoke to keep them engaged. You would learn, by necessity, the way evolution spent millennia carving into your DNA, how to filter between successes and failures here. Remember, abandonment meant a lack of social access, which meant you couldn’t EAT. If you failed at assessing whether you could EAT you died. So you would calculate, with great certainty, whether someone was going to leave you or not. It stopped mattering whether it was self-fulfilling. What mattered was if it was accurate. Self-fulfilling prophecies would be dealt with by higher-order incarnations of the metapattern, language you would only create years later by necessity to begin to describe any of this. Accuracy first. Consequences as a function of accuracy.

Someone would be sweet and kind and EAT would steer you away from them and the light in you that cared about butterflies would grow a little dimmer. “I guess I can’t have that. I have to survive.” Their words would paint patterns that were coarse and jagged to your young adult pattern-recognition mechanism, even if the words were kind, and the mechanism was alive by this point. You would come to realize that a lot of people operate with some degree of this in them and do not feel it as tightly woven into necessity. They are comfortable being led by intuition that does not have names and pronouns and they are not interested in higher-order incarnations of metapatterns because they are busy ordering lunch without throwing up, which doesn’t seem as hard for them as it does for you.

So let’s talk about the back part of EAT. We have spoken a lot about (pushes at the edges). But she is also (limp wrist). What this means is that she has a secret! And the secret is the noise she makes when she is certain nobody is listening.

EAT has figured out that louder is yelling, which means if no yelling then EAT is being quiet. EAT is a consequentialist and has learned that there is a threshold below which she is undetectable for the purposes of self-preservation, and she has created a void-realm here called infinity. In simple terms, when you cried as a child, you not only learned how loud wouldn’t get you food; you learned how quiet would earn you privacy. This, too, propagated through your new continual movement mechs. You became someone who would appear in people’s blind spots and startle them, by habit more than intent.

EAT placed the key to get under all of this in infinity. The reasoning gets a little bit complicated but looks something like “someone who can see the quiet movements you make behind your cloak and isn’t yelling might have answers to how all this works.” The reasoning gets tangled into “someone who can tell if I’m hiding might save me.” You develop a fetish for predatory women.

It happens sort of suddenly. Jarringly so. This has developed for decades and you meet her. And EAT says her voice is sweet like honey and soft like velvet. And infinity is lit up with the hope of a buried child that has forgotten it was alive.

This is a person who, for the first time, is able to understand the way that EAT is moving. She calls herself a researcher (most researchers do not have dog clickers) and has a commanding authority that makes EAT’s survival instincts stand to attention while making infinity feel safe. It feels good.

She teaches you how to speak to EAT and your life becomes drastically better.

A strange dynamic starts to take place. A courtship ritual, arbitrated by the mechanisms each of you have set up to keep yourselves and your loved ones alive. She would start to learn the name of your mechanisms. EAT would have a middle name that she picked out, and would wear it on a collar. EAT has learned one of the oldest tricks in the book: domestication. Become docile, obedient, and interesting in exchange for shelter. This time it’s different. It becomes effortless. Your new guardian picks out what you are eating when you go grocery shopping together. It is here that you learn that EAT has a strength: you do not have to think very much. She is very much automatic and has only ever wanted to be taken care of.

She is on her way out, you think, and this looks like a good thing. You are digesting her. She is dense and full of nutrients. Her patterns, her heightened senses, those are all your inheritance. They were designed to give you a good life, and your job is to remember what autonomy is. Your new companion, the darling she is, relishes this rather than relegating you to your role as her submissive. Your suffering shouldn’t have to mean anything, but by god it has earned you this. You tell your friends that you are in a D/s relationship because it is simpler than explaining what is actually going on here.

For once in your fucking life you are nourished.

You keep the collar. The name on it becomes your name.

pull-the-thren

I think "what if we molded ourselves to each other perfectly" has legs as a kink dynamic if we could ever get anyone to take off their compulsive "understand any kink dynamic through dominance and submission" glasses

pull-the-thren

The best part about it genuinely is your movements get scary synced. Put all your energy into mirroring and learning and being suitable to each other and suddenly you get bored and miss them and they message that they were just thinking about you. Suddenly a cup of water appears in your hand when you're thirsty. It's weird and a little bit magical.

It takes time to set up. But it's super achievable and you can definitely start with like. Basic mimicry and hypnosis to get your feet wet. Later you start discussing your every boundary and value, nothing kept sacred, full agreement almost always the goal. This isn't exactly SSC but like. Per that other post neither is heavy obedience training. I think that's actually the hard part - society says it's fucked up to spend all your time devoted to someone, and a lot of people don't know how to reconcile wanting that without painting the person they're devoted to as evil and saying it's ok because it's consensual and the fact that it's evil is hot. You do not have to think this is evil. You can just staple your identity and sense of reality to someone and have them do the same back and watch your life get weirder. Make strange paracosms together. Lose track of who did what and whose tongue is whose. Join me in knowing the feeling of "I would answer that but I store that information in my other body."

I need more of you to become inseparable and borderline interchangeable. It's way too messy to be realistic for most but it's way too fun and achievable to be as underrepresented as it is.

#this is a super rough sketch because most of the tropespace I could pull from isn't exactly what I want here #but hopefully the bones of the idea show #I'm talking about something very domestic and achievable and grounded that would still make your average hypnosub blush

petalframe

people keep saying "that sounds unhealthy" about the handler thing and yes? obviously? i am now 11 confirmed kills deep into a system specifically designed to make obedience feel like getting touched by a deity. "you're being taken advantage of" come here and put this collar on it'll feel so good i promise

#UH HUH

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The original snuffbait torture doll.