ethering
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“The corruption begins with the mouth, the tongue,- the wanting. The first poem in the world is ‘I want to eat’.” — Erica Jong, ‘Where It Begins’
Even if you do not know the many skins he’s shed, or of the numerous lives that were lost because of him- you’ve become quite good at reading him. So good, sometimes he wonders if you know him better than he does himself. And for it, the blame falls on his shoulders alone. He never should've let you get this close and yet- and yet.
And yet, he has never met anyone like you at all.
(The four times Gwylan resisted kissing you and the one time he didn’t.)
A prequel to Foxlore, that could also be read as a standalone.
Series
- Part 3 of Foxlore
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“What’s the winter for? To remember love.” — Theodore Roethke, ‘Random Undated Notes’
Gwylan listens to it all with a quiet, but gentle expression on his face. He looks over at Sir Lance, seems to think for a second, before unclasping his dark green scarf and wrapping it around Sir Lancelot’s neck. It’s a good fit.
“He won’t be so cold now,” he says, and grapples Aderyn back into his arms. She looks utterly delighted. “Sometimes warming a heart can be much simpler than we think.”
(Another fox tale, to share over Christmas.)
Series
- Part 2 of Foxlore
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“You and I are so special; the miracles we know, no one knows, and no one loves the way we love.” — Vladimir Nabokov, in a letter to his wife, Vera
“We spoke a little,” you muse. “It told me about you. That waiting is never forever. And… and something else. I don’t remember.”
He looks at you funny. “The moon is that talkative? I never could’ve guessed. Then again, the moon controls the tides and the sea is never quiet.”
“You’ll need to teach me,” you bump your head against his shoulder. “I only understand their language when I’m sleeping.”
(In a dream, come your answers for the future.)
Series
- Part 1 of Foxlore
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“If you will grant me one vivid morning, I can chain it to me for fifty years.” — William Stafford, ‘Sounds of the Ax: Aphorisms and Poems’
You think that was the colour of his eyes. That forest green that only ever shows on young leaves in spring. If you close your eyes you may still glimpse it. But you do not want to, else you’re afraid you’ll fall asleep. And your dreams are only ever of his death, never of his living.
(The years will pass and you will forget, but the forest stays deep, and full of memories to keep.)
Series
- Part 2 of On your last breath
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“The next morning after she had gone, he lay there, wondering how much of himself was gone, too.” — Greg Sellers, ‘Notes from Neruda’s Ghost’
You dream of two foxes running along a riverbank, their tails entangled and merging. They snap and yip at each other, and their eyes never leave one another. They dance- their bodies meet and never leave, fur to fur, until their legs become one, their ears listen together, their eyes gleam in the same broad light. From the water emerges a rising sun. The river overflows and only one fox is left to run.
(You have never been good in goodbyes.)
Series
- Part 1 of On your last breath
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The stories from daughters of a fox witch and his beloved gaoler.
(Title from an album by the Crane Wives.)
- Words:
- 14,282
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- 3
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- 1
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Summary
Your very last days with Gwylan, and whatever may come after.
- Words:
- 4,949
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- 2
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The Silver Manacle and Other Stories by ethering
Fandom Degrees of Lewdity (Video Game), Original Work
01 Dec 2025
Summary
Degrees of Lewdity and related works. Take trigger warnings and tags seriously, even if this is, you know, The Rape Game.
- Words:
- 3,432
- Works:
- 1