Xithuriel



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    The hands at his waist grip a little tighter. Qifrey, who has been cautiously opening himself to this kind of physical contact in the past few months, has been surprised to discover that he likes it—being held, pressed, kept tight. It stokes the part of him that is terrified of being trapped, just enough to keep him from relaxing.

    It’s precisely this interplay between comfort and uneasiness that made him consider the possibility of using it to their advantage.

    (Or: an exploration of trauma, healing and acceptance, of settling into one's own skin, and of what it means to make a home in one's heart.)

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    28 Aug 2026

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    They'd only just ambled into the Kalhn textile shop when Qifrey caught sight of the short young woman working. She had a round face, rosy cheeks, flaxen hair. Her eyes had locked on Olruggio as soon as they’d entered.

    Olruggio, for his part, thumbed through dyed wool samples as though he hadn't noticed. He likely wouldn't.

    But Qifrey always noticed. Sometimes this left him as a voyeur: staring at someone staring at someone else. But other times, like today, his fixed presence at Olruggio’s side made him an involved party. There was always a delay, then a moment in which Qifrey became visible and the women realized he might be of help. Some of them were too scared to approach Olruggio outright—they’d built up a more intimidating version of him in their heads, had never heard him laugh wildly or watched dimples form when he smiled. Instead, they’d set their sights on Qifrey. Talk to him, or at least look at him imploringly, as though getting in his good graces might earn them the Torch’s attention.

    He never felt like helping them.

    or: Qifrey gets jealous.

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    24 Aug 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 86

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    There is no cure for the silverwood, but that doesn't mean there isn't any hope. Olruggio helps Qifrey through a new treatment to tame the parasite inside him.

    -

    Olruggio starts like he always does, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I forgive you.” He punctuates each statement by running his nails gently across Qifrey’s scalp.

    The silverwood tree sprouts.

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    18 Aug 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 41

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    Towards the heavy sky their voices, tense like drawn bowstrings, rose in unison. “Three… two… one, go!”

    Their pens flared in twin arcs, closing their circles.

    Qifrey was forced to squeeze his eye shut against the initial flare of light, but the ragged pillar of radiance tearing towards the clouds seemed to imprint itself against the inside of his eyelid anyway, leaving a ghostly afterimage. When he could squint to watch the thing directly, his breath caught in his throat.

    The first proper trial run of the boilfire dragon spell seen in the Leech Arc!

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    12 Aug 2026

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    Something, equal parts wariness and weariness, stirs in Olruggio’s eyes whenever Qifrey makes some reference to the future — when he indirectly promises a tomorrow, a next week, an ‘after your commissions are done’. It’s the subtlest thing, a flicker, a spark; someone who knew him less well might not pick up on it. But Qifrey knows Olruggio as well as he knows himself, and he can hardly in good conscience begrudge him his flinch of cynicism. Not when it’s wholly his own fault for having put it there.

    Fool you once, shame on me. Fool you twice, still shame on me. Fool you thrice… well, if it’s any consolation whatsoever, I was fooling myself most of all.
    -- -- --
    The night Qifrey returns to the atelier for good after his wandering days — old promises kept, new promises made.

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    11 Aug 2026