S,stop staring!

Try looking up for a moment in whatever room or space you’re in right now and just imagine what a creature double your size would actually be like. Perhaps they would have to hunch over just to fit. They certainly wouldn’t get through the door without significant compression.

Imagine what a creature double your width would be like. A creature that size would carry themselves with a sense of scale, a sense of magnitude that would be humbling to observe. It would feel powerful, dangerous perhaps.

Imagine that creature was made entirely of flora, lush waxy leaves and flowers. A face constructed of a wooden mask that would almost be the size of your chest. It would look down on you, it would be impossible not to. Your eye-line would reach their waist, and with your arms outstretched you would maybe reach their petal constructed pectorals.

A creature like that would bring with it a smell. Anyone who has been in a greenhouse knows that a volume of plant matter that dense generates a rich perfume of life itself. Sweet and grassy and floral.

A creature like that would flutter and tremble with every movement, ripples from the sheer weight of it running down with every fabricated breath and subtle adjustment. Imagine each shifting change, how noticeable it would be. How much of your animal brain would be dedicated to those observations, making sure that you were not in danger.

Envision how piercing its gaze would be, focused and attentive on you from those massive eyes so high above you. How it would make your heart race if that huge wooden mask clicked and clattered as it adjusted into a thorny smile.

Consider how it would actually feel to be lifted off the ground by this figure. You wouldn’t become weightless under them. You would be just as strong as you currently are, just as beholden to your own centre of gravity, simply supported by their tremendous arms and careful vines. The strength necessary to make such a manoeuvre effortless would be immensely tangible. Fear inducing perhaps. Or maybe it would be like a profound surrender, to be so easily carried in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

Consider all of this. And look back up. Really try to place this creature in your room.

Now imagine that it loves you.

That is what biorhythms are.

So a bit of a laugh here, as the only remedy that worked to sedate my panic earlier this month of having to wait 36 hours on the 12th floor in a 50+ year old hotel through a tornado-prone hurricane at the start of the first vacation I’ve had in several years is: comic relief doodling.

And the one that has been sitting on the backest of back burners has been to showcase one of Rhysand’s greatest and unrivaled abilities. No one has come close to the proficiency and technique this high lord has honed for hundreds of years, the accuracy and precision never faltering, even while simultaneously throwing insults disguised beneath witty retorts, or gate-crashing weddings to keep very important appointments.

Nay, you all may fawn over the wings, the winnowing, the darkness, but I will whip out my foam finger and clap my hands each time a spec of invisible lint is vanquished on the page. ☝️😤

****

Hail to the King 👑

The all-new 1964 Cadillac Coupe DeVille; Setting the Standard of Luxury & Simply Killing the Competition. Find a New You in a Cadillac Today!

Iswm Dictator!Mack x Reader (GN)

Warnings: NSFW, suggestive, toxic relationship, pet names, collar use, a sprinkle of Stockholm syndrome

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You made the wrong choices and now you were here, sitting on a dog bed beside Mack’s throne. It seems ridiculous now, after all you had just wanted a break from always choosing. Back then when you first came through the wormhole, you were completely exhausted so of course you handed over control of the ship to your Head Engineer. He wanted control and you needed a break. You thought it would be nice to not have that weight on your shoulders. Now you don’t choose anything but that weight still sits on your shoulders or, more accurately, your neck.

Your beloved ship had landed safely, but it soon lost all semblance of democracy. Mack was quick to point out his successes as well as blame others, mainly you, for any mishaps. The crew wanted a leader and he was an obvious choice.

Tug

The tug of the leash attached to the collar around your throat shook you from your stupor. This was no time to reminisce. Another harsh tug, upwards this time, forced you to look up. Your eyesight was filled with the sight of your former Head Engineer, now owner. Mack’s smirk was more prominent than ever, his cap jaunted at a ridiculous angle without a single hair out of place.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you down there, darling’ Mack chuckled darkly as he stared down at you. You couldn’t remember when he started using pet names but he hadn’t stopped since. He’d use them in front of people, sometimes seemingly choosing the most suggestive ones to embarrass you. Not that it took much, you were on a dog bed with a collar that he controlled the leash to. Dogs had more freedom. Then again, you never wanted freedom when you had it. You wanted life to be simple, now it is. Mack made life simple. So why aren’t you thankful?

‘Don’t worry, we’re all alone now.’ Mack sounded like he was trying to be calming but there was still venom laced in each word. He wanted you to be relaxed of course, however he still needed you to stay compliant.

‘You don’t have to worry about any of your old friends seeing you like this. I have you all to myself for the rest of the day.’ His eyes bore into you, waiting for a reaction. In a moment of defiance, you refused to give him any reaction even though all your experiences when you openly defied him were disastrous. Like when you screamed at him, or when you rebuked him, or that one time you foolishly tried to fight him. It never worked though, he’d rather knock you out than let you go. Sometimes he’d just laugh humourlessly and remind you of your place. Other times he’d take a different approach.

Tug

The collar felt tighter today, and it probably was. He’d do that sometimes like a defence mechanism, after putting it back on after a particular vulnerable moment. He was normally so cruel to you, but occasionally he’d just….melt. Whenever he was particularly stressed or tired, he’d just untie you and take your hand. He’d walk to his room and you’d just lie there together, sometimes for hours. He wouldn’t try to make a move or force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to do, he’d just wrap his arms around you. You’d feel his breath hot on your neck when you finally embrace him back and for a moment you’d forget about everything else. For a moment it would feel like you’d travelled through another wormhole and now you were in a universe where you were a normal couple. A couple that cuddled and had movie dates. That you had a boyfriend, a sweet one who didn’t need to lock the door with a pass so he knew you couldn’t escape.

Tug

‘Aren’t you going to thank me, little one? Remember your position is a privilege’ His voice sounded even more arrogant than usual but as he turned to put his hand directly on your throat you really wanted to hear more.

No one would understand how you feel about him, you barely do. When 90% of the time he acts like this, a complete jerk, but you can’t help but want to wait for his softer moments. The moments when it’s just the two of you. When he tenderly kisses the spots that the collar rubs on and whispers worship in your ear. How his teeth graze your collar bone when he moves downward and how the mischief in his eyes turn to pure adoration. He loves you really, he just can’t let you leave him. And to ensure that you won’t, that you can never walk away, he uses the collar.

Your clouded eyes take him in again, comparing the version of Mack before you now and the version you remember looking up at you with pleading eyes on the bedroom floor.

A pause. You weighed your options.

‘Thank you, Mack’ you managed to reply, your voice barely a murmur due to the Mack’s familiar grip around your throat.

Mack tutted, he seemed irritated but there was a lack of surprise. As light pouring through the window hit him, you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he was cocky. How hot it was when he took control, regardless of the morality of his actions.

His hand slid up from your throat to under your chin and gently lifted it up towards him. His dark eyes met yours and you swore all the air on your lungs seemed to disappear.

‘You know what I want to hear’

‘Thank you….Captain’

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