#they are not gentle. they dunno how to. unless they have assistance from someone else that guides them. they used to go to Nish with-

[spotsupstuff]

Ooh, super interested in what happened to your Sun and why he went from lying to himself to becoming an apathetic brick wall lol

well! Suns was always an apathetic brick wall. because of a design flaw. Moon has already talked about this in one of the questions we've answered:

the Iterator design evolved by the process of eliminating "redundant" things, with only their capability of figuring out the Great Problem taking priority. quite literal case of putting the evolution points into a singular specialization because of outside guidance

Gen 1s are chunky and tall as they are because they physically (with their puppets) interacted with the Ancients often- either because check ups and fixing things was often required since they were the experimental Generation OR for the sake of things like school/educational trips (citizens of Gen 3s would have road trips to Gen 1s rather than visiting their own iterators). and we end up with the lanky spiky Gen 3 design thanks to this process of elimination

the official jump from Gen 1 to Gen 2 was a BIG thing. different Gen happens when a LOT of things are eliminated to the point that the base design is more cumbersome and therefore it gets revamp to fit the systems better. the jump to Gen 2 wasn't.... the smoothest one

on a physical level everything had gone absolutely swimmingly. but some dumbfuck from the big designer/engineer/programmer team fucked up n accidentally removed the One thing that ensured the Iterators could experience emotions as fully and broadly as a normal organic. and so early Gen 2s have the reputation of being incredibly dull concerning emotional matters (some were a bit spared of this when someone from the construction team on-site noticed the flaw)

this was resolved within the same Generation and pretty quickly by reverse engineering the parts of Gen 1s that made them so capable of this. NSH specifically was very influencial in this research because, for some reason nobody could ever figure out, he was more emotion capable than most of Gen 1s (this fact got boosted cuz the reverse engineering then turned into Enhancing so they could see how far they could possibly take this. NSH does the Iterator equivalent of crying when watching movies Every Time GUARANTEED)

i already have this on hand, so here's Fish (early Gen 2) and Euros (mid Gen 2) for comparison

poor bastard Seven Red Suns drew the shortest stick possible with this design flaw n has absolutely Minimal emotional understanding and capability

the Terrible thing about this is that they are Aware of this flaw of theirs and what little spark of emotion they can surrect within themselves they dedicate to either mourning or hating it. that's the subject of their depressive "pondering" in this pic

they are *trying* so hard to have emotions and feelings. they often force fake ones into their voice and it's painfully apparent cuz they always put their all into it, no subtlety about it

the pain there is faked. they know what sounding pained means to other people, so they force their voice into such form to show to Spears that they didn't mean to be so blind to its capabilities of being a feeling, comprehending creature

their ruse of charm was put in place to make themselves... well, maybe not Feel exactly but you know what i mean- to seem better, i guess. so the other Iterators would love them, so the children wouldn't be so scared of their apparent coldness, so they wouldn't hurt anyone around them because harming people will make them go away and Suns doesn't want to be lonely and Needs other people if he wants to solve the Great Problem. more heads more smarts. "look at me, i'm alright! i feel alright! i am Well! i am happy!" and if i say that to myself enough it will Have to become true

like all Gen 1 n Gen 2 Iterators could tell they were bullshitting, though. they appreciated the effort though so most of the group accepted Suns either way. Gen 3s did not recognize it so much- that's how Pebbles ended up as their mentee rather than Moon's (as he was honestly set up to be, which just made him Not Want To take Moon on as his mentor) or some other Gen 1's (Gen 3s often search for mentors cuz there's a lot of things to catch up on in the research at this point- they often go for Gen 1s cuz naturally they have the most knowledge at hand. Innocence, for example, is Nish's mentee!!! she's his shitty little student, he wants to bonk her So much for bein disrespectful to everyone and he loves her with his entire fuckin being. his lil fucklet...)

this ruse starts to slowly slip past Suns' fingers some years after the Ancients' mass ascension. the longer the searching for solution drags on the more Iterators start giving up, becoming desperate, negative, ...insane... Suns gets affected by both the time and everyone else around them. the ruse doesn't MATTER anymore, because everyone is damaged in SOME way at some point. everyone is a little or a lot broken, what is so bad about their flaws at This point- nobody gives a shit and they sure as fuck don't have the emotional power to give a singular fuck in the first place so why not... just let go of that if it isn't so required anymore...

and so they become an apathetic brick wall openly to the whole world, "shedding" their lies, prioritizing logic and goal chasing over others' feelings and importance of the present

that's how we got here in my take on RW

Suns is fucked up, man

[luasworkshop]

I dunno if I've covered this explicitly at some point but here's some spice-related details for Lua (specifically D/S stuff which isn't their usual wheelhouse but occasionally applies.)

Lua isn't really much dominant or submissive, and honestly is pretty vanilla* overall (they like sex, they like tenderness, they like things to be light and equitable), but they can fill a role if desired (in their way). (Vanilla is a nice flavor - it augments so many others!)

(this is only so accurate since it excludes some things but it's not terribly off.)

Lua in a more dominant role:

- Good with knots (hey sailing knowledge comes in handy somewhere) and has a spell or two to hand to tie someone up in a flash.

- Has definitely made some interesting contraptions and knows how to use them (not something they usually use for themselves, but they have the knowledge and skills with clockwork and artifice, and the Vesuvian dildo races require FUNCTIONAL models - they're happy to show off. Plus they have some other interesting toys as well.)

- Doesn't have the heart to really cause much pain, but gives good hickies/bites if invited to do so (they are rather 'mouthy' after all). Certainly with their shape-shifting they can throw fangs, claws, tentacles and suckers into this mix. They're not really keen on drawing blood. Not at all against playfully spanking someone.

- Absolutely expert with magic-based temperature play and has learned a thing or two about shocking from Aleis.

- They have more than enough experience and practice to be excellent at physically teasing/denial, edgeplay, and over-stimulation.

- Sassy as shit, isn't good at belittling, but knows how to point out when someone's being a needy little creature. Verbally tends to play toward teasing, playful banter, and maybe being just a bit haughty and disinterested.

- They're fairly large at 6', not a particularly strong build, but they can use their size and shapeshifting to pin someone down and hold them there (they're not huge on tussling but if they're allowed to use magic including shifting it's fine).

- Really the shapeshifting comes in a fair bit if allowed - let them be comfortable in their fluidity of form, and you'll get to see some pretty fun parts of them - their creativity, their magical prowess, and their more wild side.

- If allowed they'll use multiple arms/limbs/digits to assist in things, continually and progressively shifting. Or they can take on a form that is more impressive/complex than their own day-to-day appearance (really whatever would be enjoyed - it's all icing on the cake).

- Is good with being a monster/creature/'hunter' they willingly embrace that side of themselves (something they struggled with, growing up - the whole 'I wasn't the princess or the knight, I was the dragon'.)

Lua in a more submissive role:

- Can't really stand being physically hurt (apart from hickies - which they do like) or verbally degraded (they take it personally and find it genuinely upsetting) but they're very good with being told what to do, and they don't mind an authoritative or firm tone. They're willing to use terms of respect, but they don't particularly like stretching into role-play that involves authority figures they feel they have been or might be genuinely wronged by (parents, military, etc.)

- Similarly, doesn't like being physically restrained, but is, again very good with being told what to do. If you want them still they'll be still - though it may be a struggle depending on what else is going on.

- Is all for being teased and denied, edged, or overstimulated, either way. Praise them and you'll get quite the show (multiple orgasms are also a perennial favorite - given their shape-shifting).

- They enjoy temperature play used on themselves, but don't trust electricity from anyone but Aleis (who is only very gentle and mild about it with them - that's less about pain and more about riding the storm... literally and figuratively).

- They're good with being challenged - they take that sort of thing personally but in the right context find it fun, whether it's trying to be quiet, or still, or trying to hold back or what have you.

- They're easily verbal and vocal, inclined to promise and plead if allowed (they're not entirely inclined to beg but they have their moments).

- Again that shape-shifting, they'll be whatever is wanted of them, and can make themselves more flexible for display or pleasing multiple partners (yes they can absolutely eat themselves out if they put their mind to it.) Multiple limbs and whatever else goes both ways.

- Conversely is good with being a poor beast/creature (the other side of that comfort in being themselves.) Isn't particularly into pet play (this is more hurt/comfort in nature), but if you want them to have ears and a tail you can have that if you like (though they're likely to just get silly with it**).

Either way they tend to be very attentive and alert, you'll never get them to fully shut down conscious thought (always SOMETHING on the back of the brain, no real subspace for this one) but they can relax quite well and settle into a role for those that prefer that sort of thing. They just want to do well and do right by their lovers and friends (who... well if they are lovers it takes Lua a while to trust, yanno?).

They like aesthetic garments on others but do get nervous about wearing anything costume-y themselves, they feel more naked than just... being naked (but - they're willing to try). They wear their ring unless they're bathing, baking (dough under a ring is just... no), asleep, or have some risk of degloving their finger (working with certain tools). Aleis and Lua vet each other's partners and are open about who they're with. They usually take their earrings off once things are getting physical (they've ripped their ear before and it hurts.)

They're also just... a massive vers, they don't really care what happens there as long as it feels good for everyone involved. We already know their genitalia varies a lot, and is often somewhat fantastic.

Lua with aftercare:

- HOPE YOU LIKE CUDDLING. (Seriously: They're all about the WHOLE thing, care and attention before and after very much included, whether they're dominant or submissive. If they can take a bath and/or a nap with whoever they're with, all the better - but they want to talk and be assured, and also just... talk to you about weird animals and strange plants and their next project and hear how things are going for you and whatever interests you.)

*We'll assume the shape-shifting counts as 'vanilla' here, as they're a tender monster if you're into monsterfucking, and it's innate to their existence. Shape-shifting is some of their best magical prowess and it comes easily and fluidly.

**Tell them to be a cat-person (naynbinary) and they're going to knock your glass of the nightstand, climb the drapes, stare into space wild-eyed for 15 minutes, and generally make themselves a menace. They're not interested in being 'tamed' they're just being a dumbass.

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Hear Me

Summary: Modern AU Professor Tom is away for the night and receives a distressed call from his wife.  

Genre: Fluff/Romance/Erotica (?)

Rating/Warning: M -  Possibly me being overly cautious.  Perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea.  Contains use of “Daddy” and things of that nature.  Non-explicit shenanigans.  Is “Literary Phone Sex” a thing in fiction?  I dunno.  You have been warned.

Author’s Notes: I just really hate Tom Hiddleston and my own imagination right now.  That fault is with those two things, but let’s blame @i-wanna-be-toms-body-pillow instead.  Same characters as See Me.  All mistakes are mine.

He was reaching for his phone to text her a goodnight kiss when her ringtone filled the hotel room.

"There is something skittering in the walls!" she Snoopy wailed before his greeting was complete. "Get back here right this instant and fulfill your wedding vows!"

He smiled at the sincere panic in her voice, feeling like it was disloyal but unable to stop it.  Her fear of the creepy crawlies, as she called them, was something he learned rather quickly about her.  She'd gone as far as to include it in their wedding ceremony, inspiring the same kind of smiles from those in attendance who were familiar with her long-standing aversion.

"Darling, as much as I relish being your rescuer and as much as I am loathe to deny any request of yours, I'm afraid I am unable to directly assist you with this."

"Then I want a divorce," she sniffed petulantly, inspiring a chuckle that accompanied the widening of his grin. "I'll find someone else, someone who won't leave me helpless and undefended to go prattle on about a paper at a stupid conference."

"Nonsense,” he replied and stretched his long legs, slouching in the chair a bit after two hours of putting the finishing touches on his lecture notes.  “You're never helpless.  That's what makes your chosen helplessness so appealing.  And you assured me that you were fine with my going alone."

She huffed at him and an idea that he had formed on the flight for a possible situation just like this came to his mind. It was that perfect irritating distance, just long enough to make the trip by car too tedious and just short enough for a mere hour in the air.  They had initially planned for her to accompany him to the academic conference at which he was presenting the following morning.  A surprise visit from a dear cousin she hadn’t seen in a couple of years had altered that.

It was their first overnight separation and they were both surprised at the degree of her anxiety over it; while he was secretly proud that she had progressed to the point where the reality of being without him, even for one night, was cause her to be in such a state, he was in equal measure truly concerned for her.  Although she had protested that she didn’t mind being without him for a night, his instincts had told him otherwise.  Curiosity was high.  He was eager to know if she would actually verbalize what she was feeling, if she trusted him to respond with that balance of indulgence and tenderness that she was learning to rely on.  

"Listen to me," he said, shifting his tone to the one that made her whole body alert and pliable, "Daddy is going to take care of his baby doll.  I want you to feel safe and get a good night’s rest so you can enjoy your visit tomorrow.  I'm going to tell you what you to do and you're going to obey.  Yes?"

"Yes," was the reply to his gentle prompt and he was filled with pride that there hadn't been any hesitation on her part.

He picked up his laptop with his free hand and moved from the table to the bed, glancing at the time to figure out where she might be in the house.

"It's almost 11, so you should be in your pajamas and heading to bed."

She wasn't quite sure if it was a question or not and chose to treat it as one, wanting to make it clear to him that she was fully willing to participate in this new avenue of their dynamic.

"Yes, I just got home from seeing the movie with Hallie and changed and was watching the news for a few minutes.  That's when I heard it."

Her voice was still shaky and the mention of the movie raised his suspicions.

"Did that monkey movie have creepy crawlies in it that bothered you?"

"It's not a monkey, it's an ape," she corrected him, as if he was a first grader in her classroom.  “Didn’t you learn anything at Cambridge?”  

She was being contrary in attempt to distract herself and these flashes of brattiness were also her way of testing him, of discovering how far she could go without consequences.  He was deciding how to respond when she rushed ahead.

"And yes, it did.  Big yucky ones," a shudder punctuating her words.  "And you weren't there for me to turn to."

It was said with honest distress, not with anger, and it temporarily made him put aside her previous comment.

"I'm sorry, Pop Tart.  I'm here now."

When she inquired if he wanted to switch to a video call, he declined. 

"No, I just want you to hear me.  Only my voice,” he answered, knowing that the statement would bring up specific recent memories for her.  She tried to stifle the half moan, half whimper in vain, the sound making it clear that his plan was working.

He talked her into the bedroom, asking a few questions about the evening, checking to make sure she had eaten dinner and done her stretches.  She had pulled back the fluffy comforter on their sleigh bed and was about to climb in when his next command made her freeze.  He waited a few moments before repeating it.

“Is something wrong?  Do you understand what I’ve said?”

“I understand, sir,” spoken so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.  It was a surprise, it was a first; and it delighted him to a degree that was just as surprising.  She’d never addressed him in that manner and he had never asked her about it. Something about this particular situation must have brought it out of her.  He immediately decided that pointing it out right then in the moment wouldn’t be helpful to her and filed it away to discuss later, briefly settling on the possible explanation that using the term was a sign that she was feeling safe, that she was trusting his guidance.

“That’s how you normally sleep.  I know it might be different because I’m not there and you may be worried about having to suddenly flee from the monsters in the wall, but I think it’s important that we try to make this as routine as possible in that way,” he calmly explained.

She murmured in agreement.  When her pajamas were on the chair by the closet and she was naked between the soft cotton sheets, he told her to put him on speaker and lay the phone on his empty pillow.

“Now,” he proceeded, low and steady, “I want you to raise your arms and place them up on either side of your head.”  

He waited until the rustling stopped and she was settled comfortably before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Hands off, darling, unless I give permission.”

This time she didn’t even bother with attempting to hide her reaction.  The frustrated groan was the sound of victory to his keen ears, as was her increasing rapid breathing.  She had assumed that certain guided activities were sure to follow and his command made her painfully aware of how intense her physical reaction was to the situation.  

Then he began his assault.

She would always be rather baffled at how his voice had such an impact on her.  It was contradictory in a way when she contemplated the qualities that made it so unique: rough but smooth, arousing but soothing, spicy but sweet.  The sound itself was enough to make anyone swoon; coupled with the specific manner of his address, it was lethal.  He never rushed, never spoke carelessly; and when it came to his beloved poetry, he was an enthusiastic expert.

It flowed from his mouth with confidence, with authority, with a passion that she periodically teased him about.  A selection of his favorites from the treasures that time has produced, lines he had read over and over to the point that reading was unnecessary. Poems in Ancient Greek whose words she did not understand, but whose sounds left her in no doubt of the message. Shakespeare, Donne, Cowper, Burns, Byron, Shelley, Rossetti...

And while she knew he recited them and poured over them day after day and semester after semester in his classroom, this was different.  This was for her.  Solely for her.  And she heard them as she never had before, heard him as she never had before.  She felt his voice as though his hands were ghosting over her skin, felt it rise and fall and wash over her, felt it dip and turn as if it led her in a swirling giddy dance.  

But when the words became new to her, tears stung her eyes.  They were new, although the poetic voice was familiar.  It was him.  His words. His poems.  

About her.

Things that made her gasp, things that made her back arch off the bed, things that made her wish she had turned out the lights.

Now she had to grip at the pillow with desperate fingers to keep herself from disobeying him, her muscles tensing, her legs moving restlessly against the sheets that were no longer cool.  Or dry.

“Hands, Pop Tart,” he reminded her sharply, interrupting himself, her every exhale escalating to a steady, panting moan.  “Are they in the proper place?”

“Ye-yes, s-sir,” she managed to stutter out on a sob.

She was almost at the breaking point when he, mercifully, seemed to be finished.

“Still with me, darling?” he asked with a casual air that absolutely infuriated her, as if she weren’t a quivering, fevered mess driven to near madness by his voice.  Just his voice.

All she could muster was a pitiful sound that he interpreted as a “yes” and he relented.

For a moment.

“I’ve got one last selection for you,” he whispered. “I’ve saved it for last.  I think it will take your breath away.”

She shut her eyes in frustration, having no idea what could possibly be left to say, and was a second away from begging him to grant her freedom so she could end things.

But his voice stopped her.

“I am Sam.”

“Sam I am.”

The hilarious combination of that panty-melting voice with the Dr.Seuss classic she read so often to her first graders had her crying with laughter by the third page.  She was wheezing when he added a gleeful “The End.”

“You see, darling?  I told you it would take your breath away,” he informed her.  “And now you may reach for some tissues, dry your face, and burrow under the covers for a good night’s sleep.”

“That’s it? But, but…I…” she stumbled over the words, her shocked protests making him chuckle.

“Yes, I know.  Life is full of disappointments.  Or denials, in your case.”

He was enjoying this entirely too much; she wanted to grab the bloody phone and hurl it across the room.  Insufferable man!

“And yes, the Hands Off rule applies until I return home.  My hands get their turn first.”

He took advantage of her stunned silence and continued.

“Maybe next time when I ask you if you’ll be okay by yourself, you’ll think of this…lesson in delayed gratification and tell me the truth.”

“You are big meanie head!  And I renew my divorce request!” she cried in bewilderment.

“I love you, too, Pop Tart,” he cooed, “Goodnight.”

“I do not like you, Sam I am,” she grumbled and hit the End Call button with more force than was necessary.

The ding of a text alert arrived a few seconds later.

“I heard that. xoxo”