#which doesn't give you as much control over the movement as i'd like to have with something like quills

[antirepurp]

the fool i was, thinking i was done with deform bones, as if i wasn't going to stumble across what might be the perfect jiggle physics tutorial using bones i've ever seen

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only His

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!reader

Summary: A diplomat from Caladan wants to borrow you for the night. Feyd doesn't take that very well. Requested by @midnight-serendipity

Words: 2700

Notes: cursing, mentions of smut (a little), gore, blood, death, typos.

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Feyd breathed Hatred. 

He bled Hatred. 

When he killed, Hatred controlled his movements. Like a parasite in the brain, Hatred determined the thrust of his blade, how deep it sunk into an enemy’s gut, and the degree to which he twisted the weapon before pulling it from a soon-to-be lifeless body. 

He’d cultivated a bond with Hatred. There was a mutual understanding of one another, he thought. But as Feyd listens to the proposition from the man sitting his opposite, Hatred slowly becomes a stranger.

Turns out Hatred has a claiming side, a how-dare-you-look-at-what’s-mine side, and from that, Feyd realizes he never knew Hatred, not truly. Because this feeling—whatever it is—has revealed that Hatred is more potent than he initially believed.

“You want to what?” Feyd grits out through clenched teeth. 

“There’s no need to get upset,” the man chuckles; a diplomat from Caladan sent on behalf of Duke Atreides who came to Giedi Prime to reinforce treaties and trade agreements with the Baron. Others were sent from their respective planets, but he is by far much bolder than the rest when it comes to stepping out of bounds.

“I'd give you something in return,” Nolas—that’s his name. Feyd could barely care to remember—continues. “Whatever you like. I just want her for the night. Something to make the long trip here worthwhile and the trip back more bearable.”

“You think my concubine can be bought?”

“All concubines can be bought,” he says. “At the very least, borrowed.”

If so, then you are a concubine of untraditional nature. You are not shareable. You cannot be divvied up amongst the group so each may enjoy their slice; not as long as Feyd lives. And should he not live, for reasons foreseen or not, he long ago requested that your life be ended as well. That way you could be together. That way no man could ever have you. 

The thought of another’s hands on you sets fire to Feyd’s veins, threatening to burn his pale skin from the inside out. His heavy brow dips forward to darken the light hue of his irises. He stands and crosses the bridge between his seat and the one occupied by the older, pudgy man, looming over him to the point that Nolas must tilt his head back so their eyes can meet. 

“I will not be giving you mine,” Feyd growls. “Not for anything you could offer.”

Nolas huffs. “Now be reasonab–” 

Feyd fists his fingers into the collar of Nolas’s jacket, twisting tightly and yanking upward until Nolas chokes from the constricting fabric pressing into his windpipe. 

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Feyd spits, leaning forward. He opens his mouth to continue, but just as his next words are ready to leap from his tongue, something odd takes root in Nolas’s vile eyes. Odd, because it is not fear.

The bulk of Feyd’s skills lies in his ability to incite fear, whether through words, or battle, or presence, and with the exception of his uncle, fear has successfully struck the core of any soul who has crossed his path. Civilians, servants, his brother, his mother, even you have not been spared, but the man in his grasp is not cowering. He is not trembling. He is not soaking in the vulnerability of the position he is in where Feyd could snap his neck in a half-second. Instead, he holds the spearing gaze of the youngest Harkonnen. Matches it, even.

Feyd sinks his teeth into his boiling rage and forces it to overpower the shock that has slipped in. “You will not get within fifty feet of her. You talk to her, you surrender your tongue. You touch her, you lose a finger. You look at her, I’ll take an eye and it can sit alongside the rest of my trophies.”

A smirk touches Nolas’s face, practically undetectable before it is gone, and suddenly Feyd feels it. That loss of control. He feels Nolas penetrate his skull and weave spindly tendrils through his brain, poking and prodding for Feyd’s secrets. And then there’s a moment; a moment when Feyd nearly stumbles—the moment Nolas latches on to the one thing Feyd can not afford to have known by anyone other than himself. 

The smirk returns. “Of course, na-Baron,” oozes off of Nolas’s slimy tongue. “I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the woman you love.”

With another half-twist, the collar tightens, blocking the blood from leaving Nolas’s face. He’s cherry red—or at least what Feyd imagines is cherry red based on your description—and he thinks with a few more turns of his fist, he could get Nolas’s head to pop right off his shoulders and tumble onto the floor. 

“What are you doing!” Rabban snaps, stomping toward the duo. He rams his hand against Feyd’s chest, but despite being forced back a step, he does not release the diplomat. He does not blink, fingers transmuting to steel as Rabban works to pry them open. “Uncle wants him alive for tonight!”

Feyd doesn’t care about tonight. He doesn’t care for some party announcing his uncle’s plans for the future. He does not care that this man, this worm, is considered a vital messenger. Send a fucking letter. 

Rabban whips out a small blade and slashes downward, nicking Feyd’s knuckles. It stings but livens the rush of his blood. His heart pounds harder, teeth gritting and cracking. 

“Feyd!”

Nolas’s eyes begin to redden, threadlike veins almost glowing. No air exits his nostrils and just as he finally wraps his hands around Feyd’s wrist, yanking and jerking to free himself, the tension in the fabric snaps. 

Nolas gasps for air, falling forward and revealing the clean slice down the back of his jacket collar. Feyd’s head turns to Rabban’s disgusted glare. 

His brother sheathes his knife. “You’d defy our uncle’s orders?”

Feyd glances back at Nolas, who has yet to recover, before spinning on his heel and leaving.

—

“Are you embarrassed of me?” you ask, your attention focused on the precise wrapping of bandage tape around Feyd’s knuckles as you sit beside him on the bed. “Is that why you don’t want me to go tonight?”

“Yes,” Feyd grumbles. No, his mind snaps back at him, and he huffs. 

Your arrival on Giedi Prime birthed a conscience within him—a conscience that exists solely for your sake—and because he often fucks up when it comes to you and your feelings, it never shuts up. You’re hurting her. Look at her. Do you not see that devastation? He does, and little pinpricks nip at the organ in his chest. 

You lightly nod as you mutter a pathetic, “Oh.”

With a hefty sigh, Feyd says, “It’s for your protection.” There! Better!

Fingers pause their work and your head shoots up to meet his eyes, a small smile curving your lips. 

“Oh,” you repeat. There’s a hint of excitement in your tone, a glint in your bright irises that causes Feyd’s cheeks to warm. 

You rip the used tape from the rest of the roll and set it aside, and then that smile disappears. “Wait, protection from what?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe if you’re not there tonight.”

You hum, and from that hum alone, Feyd knows exactly what’s running through your mind. 

“And my safety is very important to you, is it?” you ask, lifting the skirts of your dress so it doesn’t catch under your knees as you move to straddle his hips. 

Feyd rolls his eyes. His hands settle on your waist. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he mildly scolds. 

You lean into his body until he falls back onto the mattress, your chest pressed to his chest, your face hovering above his. 

“I don’t know,” you tease as your fingertip skims over his bottom lip. “I’m starting to think you might like me more than you let on.”

“Think what you want,” he says, turning his head to the side and severing the taut band connecting your gazes. 

You chuckle and grip his chin, demanding he look at you again. “Fine, I will,” you whisper before inching your lips closer until they ghost over his. “I think you like me.”

You give him another feather-dusting of a kiss but it’s not enough. Never enough. Feyd growls, burying his hand into the strands of your hair to hold your head still so he can claim your lips in the devouring manner he desires. 

When you moan, he wraps his arm snuggly around your waist. When you suck on his tongue, his cock flinches in his pants and he involuntarily thrusts upward between your spread legs. 

Your responsive yelp is a drug. Addicting. So different from the yelps he expected to receive from you after he’d chosen you as his concubine. He’d gone into the situation wanting any noise your delicate throat could make to be a product of the pain he intended to inflict upon you, but when he’d taken you that first night, that yelp was of pleasure. He’d hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you and was instantly overcome with a desperate need to hear it again and again and again. 

You pull your lips apart from his. Your gentle pants fan his face. He brushes your loose locks behind your ear. 

“Promise me you’ll stay in the room,” he says. 

“I promise.”

—

He’s gone. Feyd took his eyes off the bastard for one second, and now he’s gone. It’s not as if Nolas will be capable of finding you—he’s not familiar with the fortress’s layout enough to know which room you’re in and you swore you wouldn’t so much as peek through a crack in the door—but still, a sense of dread stiffens Feyd’s limbs. Nolas has no reason to be outside of this room. He has no reason to be doing anything but drinking his fill and mingling with the others of his station. And yet…

“Did you hear me, brother?” Rabban’s voice intrudes upon Feyd’s third scan of the room. He’s not here. He’s not fucking here. 

“Brother–”

“No,” Feyd snaps before descending the short staircase. 

He snakes through the crowd toward the main doors of the vast room. They’re wide, tall, loud when opened and closed, and it’s impossible Nolas could’ve snuck out without Feyd’s notice. 

“Where’s the Caladanian?” Feyd demands of the guards posted on either side of the door. 

“No one has attempted to leave, my Lord,” one says. 

Feyd’s brow pinches. The only remaining exit is a side door specifically designed to blend with the wall. The fortress is speckled with similar doors, all of which connect to an inner walkway that servants and guards use to get around the massive structure quickly when needed. 

“Come with me,” Feyd instructs, receiving a curt nod in return. 

Feyd’s body traces the wall until he reaches the door. He pushes it open and slips inside, the guard on his heels. The noise of the room fades with every step down the corridor and at each new unexpected sound, his head cocks, his ear reaching for the source. 

Then he hears it. 

“Your na-Baron offered you to me,” travels through the wall separating him from the paralleling hallway.

And then your sweet voice. “Offered? N-No, Feyd wouldn’t.”

You’re right there, right on the other side of the thin barrier, but he can’t reach you. You’re trying to remain calm but you’re scared, Feyd knows it, and as he starts to rush to the next closest door, he begs that you keep the bastard at bay just a little longer. 

Once he shoves through the door into the hall, your voice comes in much clearer, but all sight of you is blocked by Nolas’s breadth and height. 

“He wouldn’t give me away,” you say. 

Nolas chuckles. “He hasn’t, sweetheart. I’m simply borrowing you for a little.”

“That’s not—hey, don’t touch me!”

Feyd bursts into the embodiment of fury. Everything goes red. He feels red; he sees red; he tastes and smells and hears red. His vision pulses to his heartbeat’s rhythm. He craves the death of his enemy. To have blood coat his tastebuds. To absorb the scent of freshly drawn iron. 

Feyd’s ears pound with pressure and he worries it will muffle the beautiful screams of his victim, but to his great pleasure, as his blade is stuffed into a meaty back, the screams come in loud and clear in perfectly pitched notes that echo down the hall.

The body collapses, knees slamming into stone flooring.

“Feyd,” you whimper. 

“I told you to stay in our room,” he says lowly, not sparing you a glance as his knife momentarily leaves the body to reenter at the spot where neck meets shoulder. Blood sputters from lips, adorning your dress with a sprinkling of rubies.

“One of the servants said you needed me and I–”

“Take her back,” Feyd orders his guard. “Now.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Feyd!” you cry, tripping over your skirt as you struggle to keep pace with the guard dragging you around the corner. 

It’s better this way. If you’re gone, he can give his undivided attention to the paling body and the scarlet puddle spreading beneath it. 

“You don’t listen,” Feyd says, coming to the front of his victim who is impressively still sitting upright. 

There’s a whimper, another lovely song before Feyd pries open the mouth, digs between a row of teeth, and pinches the tongue with two fingers. He pulls it as far as it can be pulled and then lops it clean off with his knife. It lands on the floor with a wet slap. The fingers follow—all ten—amputated from now lifeless hands. And then the eyes, plucked free from the skull with ease. One of them rolls a fair distance after being tossed aside. The other he keeps.

Feyd steps back to stare upon death at its purest; a flawless display of cause and effect, of crime and punishment. 

“I told you what would happen,” he says. 

He doesn’t get a response. 

—

It’s late when Feyd returns to you. He spent the last few hours explaining his role in the ending of a diplomat’s life. He was careful with his words. He had to be. If his uncle knew he killed in defense of his concubine, it would introduce a plethora of complications. No one can know just how far he would go for his woman lest he put you further at risk and open himself up to manipulation. And he can’t have that. 

Feyd expels a relieved sigh at finding you tucked under the sheets. You’re on your side, a palm between your cheek and the pillow. 

He moves to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. As he runs his hand over your hair, your eyes open. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod. 

“A servant came to the room, said you needed me,” you tell him. “I was led to that man instead of you. I wasn’t trying to go against what you asked of me.”

“I know,” Feyd says. “The servant was paid. Someone witnessed the exchange.” He watches a flash of shock and pain travel across your irises. “He’s dead now. They both are.”

You swallow, biting into your lip as your eyes and mind briefly drift elsewhere. Feyd waits for you to come back, and once you do, you look up at him and nod in acceptance. 

“Will you come to bed now?” you ask. “Please? I can't sleep without you.”

“You were asleep when I came in.” Your head shakes. 

In all fairness, you haven't spent a single night apart since he got you, and he doesn’t view it as clinginess—it’s more his decision than yours—but rather an expression of how much you want him near. And he likes being wanted. It’s different. Foreign. Nice. The both of you need it. Tonight, perhaps, more than ever.

Feyd stands and peels off his layers of clothes, then goes to the other side of the bed to slide under the covers. You flip over, nestling yourself against him and resting your head on his bicep.

“I thought you didn't want me anymore,” you whisper. “I thought–”

---

“Don't think,” he says. “You're mine; you know that.” He presses a kiss to your hairline. “I don't share you.”

And may fate have mercy on anyone who suggests otherwise.

Tag List (if you wanna join)

[cutecatlov3r]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨?

various x reader ! [hinata, kageyama, tsukishima, nishinoya, sugawara, iwaizumi, oikawa, atsumu, osamu, suna, bokuto, akaashi, kuroo, and kenma]

synopsis: my head cannons and my opinion on which songs they'd fuck you to .

warnings/tw: all characters are 21+, praise, degradation, and my personal head cannons on what they are like during sex .

a/n: dont copy my work ! like, re-blog, and comment ily ! not proofread ;(

jjk ver. aot ver. ft ver. bllk ver. bnha ver.

Shoyo Hinata

HEAVEN AND BACK [Chase Atlantic]

✰ This song just is so Shoyo Hinata coded. I love it so much, I can see him loving it too. He is for sure a switch, mostly dominating over you though.

✰ I don't see him being very into foreplay, I feel like he can get hard just from looking at you, thinking of what he wants to do to you.

✰ His stamina makes him go on until he gives out, which is after 3 to 4 rounds.

✰ This song makes him want to please you, making sure to have you rolling back your eyes.

✰ You are addicted to him. You love him so much but he loves you just as much.

✰ He can't help himself but to go fast, he doesn't like being slow. Yet he is sensual, never too rough, kissing you passionately as he goes as fast as he can, in hopes of making you see stars.

✰ "Are you feeling good baby? Should I go go deeper?"

✰ Hinata always makes sure to focus on your pleasure before his own. He loves you, more than anyone.

✰ You are everything he needs. You're like his drug. Without you, he'd be nothing.

"She just went to heaven and back"

-

Tobio Kageyama

PILLOWTALK [ZAYN]

✰ Tobio is... In my opinion, a switch.

✰ With this song on he will start off slow then speed up, your moans with this song make him so happy.

✰ He isn't afraid to pillow talk you in bed. "S...So tight for me... Want me to go faster?"

✰ The passionate sex between you two with this song is euphoric. He loves everything about you.

✰ He won't be afraid to tell you how much he loves you, praising you here and there whenever he feels like doing so.

✰ If he wanted to he could last 2 rounds but he usually has you asleep by then.

✰ He shows you how much he loves you by making sure to go harder and deeper right before the song ends.

✰ After you two are done, he kisses your forehead, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love to hold you close, tonight and always"

-

Kei Tsukishima

Lollipop [Lil Wayne]

✰ This man is a dom and I'd say a sadist.

✰ He'll degrade you, making sure you know you're just there to be his plaything. "Such a slut, don't worry, I'll take good care of you,"

✰ He loves you but won't be the one to tell you that, he'll let you know when he fucks you harshly and depply.

✰ "Slut" "Whore" "Dumbass" "Bitch"

✰ Tsukishima won't be afraid to spank you whenever you're acting extra feisty.

✰ He loves as this song plays in the background as he inflicts pain on your pretty little body.

✰ His favorite thing to do is... Well, fucking your mouth, making sure you're crying and gagging.

"She-she lick me like a lollipop"

-

Yuu Nishinoya

Down On Me [Jeremiah]

✰ He is pretty kinky, he doesn't mind letting you take control of him. With that being said, he is a switch.

✰ Now... His dick is big, all of his height went where it was supposed to.

✰ He loves watching you moan and having his dick all in your mouth.

✰ "So good...! Keep sucking baby, I'm so close!"

✰ He never degrades you. It isn't in his heart to hurt the feelings of the person he loves.

✰ This song just matches his energy, he can't stand being in such a quiet place. He adores your movements when this song comes on.

✰ Nishinoya is a loud moaner, he needs to have some sort of sound throughout the room as this song plays.

✰ He admires you, making sure to kiss every part of you. You're the light of his life.

✰ Hickeys. He loves receiving and giving them. Receiving them because he wants everyone to know he has someone who actually fucks him and giving them to show everyone you're his. Only his.

"I love the way you grind that booty on me"

-

Koshi Sugawara

Into It [Chase Atlantic]

✰ Sugawara is such a nice guy to those who know him but in the bedroom he's a bit different. It depends on his mood, he will always be a dom though.

✰ With this song playing he will degrade you, in a sexy way. A possessive way.

✰ "You're mine, say it pretty girl,"

✰ He would be the type to smoke while fucking you from behind, he loves doggy style, he likes seeing your ass bounce against his hips.

✰ He makes sure to go slow and deep as this song plays, biting your neck, putting you into missionary.

✰ With this song playing, he focuses on your pleasure, cumming deep in you over and over until he feels like you're done.

✰ His hands are godly, overstimulating you after you beg him you can't do it anymore

✰ "Y/n, shut up, I know you can take it. Be a good girl and fucking take it,"

"I wouldn't change it for the world, I'm fucking into it"

-

Hajime Iwaizumi

Wicked Games [The Weekend]

✰ Iwaizumi is a dom, no questioning. He is such a sweet one though.

✰ He'd never hurt you in any way, even if you asked him to. He just can't see himself hurting you.

✰ This song just turns him on, he loves seeing you naked as this song plays. It makes him feel some type of way.

✰ With this song, he will hold your hands, pinning them down. Then he will go deep and hard inside you.

✰ "Taking me so good, good girl,"

✰ He lives for praise, he enjoys getting praise from you. He will also praise you as well.

✰ His strong build can easily man handle you.

✰ I'd say he can last 3-4 rounds, considering he is an athletic trainer.

✰ He loves you, the way he takes care of you after is so astonishing. He will clean you up and make sure you're okay. You both truly love each other.

"Listen, ma, I'll give you all I got. Get me off of this, I need confidence in myself"

-

Toru Oikawa

Party Monster [The Weekend]

✰ I feel dom vibes from him. I can see him mainly having a teasing personality during sex.

✰ "Aw, you wanna cum? Alright! Let me pick up my pace then cutie,"

✰ I see him loving this song because it kind of describes him in a way. He is known to be a flirt.

✰ Most definitely would fuck you in a mirror while this song plays. He'd have you face down ass up, grabbing your throat so you can watch him destroy you.

✰ "Watch as I fuck you, kay?"

✰ I don't see him as someone who is very into making out with people, I can see him kissing your neck though, not leaving hickeys.

✰ He doesn't really feel love towards you, he isn't focused on love, but whenever he fucks you, he appreciates you.

✰ Still, he has a special spot for you, not really for anyone else. He makes sure to fuck you sensually, he cherishes sex.

"Say you're mine, I'm yours for the night"

-

Atsumu Miya

Acquainted [The Weekend]

✰ Rough dom. I don't need to elaborate .

✰ This song just reminds him so much of your relationship. You flirted your way to get where you're at. Usually he'd turn down every girl but you were different. There was something about you that turned him on.

✰ He loves you. LOVES you. This song really just keeps him sane as he's fucking you.

✰ He will be rough with you like pulling your hair, choking, breath-play, etc. But he won't ever think of degrading you.

✰ Hickeys and bruises is what he wants to see on himself, he doesn't mind giving you them here and there.

✰ He is super over protective over you, one guy speaking to you could cause a whole argument... Ending with his dick being shoved down your throat.

✰ He would love to make you his rope bunny but he hasn't really decided to bring it up yet.

✰ He will grunt and groan as he fucks you roughly to this song, occasionally humming to the tune.

"You got me puttin' time in, time in. Nobody got me feeling this way"

-

Osamu Miya

Call Out My Name [The Weekend]

✰ I can see him being a dom but more soft yet can sometimes be rough.

✰ He plays this song just because he likes the melody... It's dark and sad and he likes that type of vibe.

✰ He will fuck you slow and deep to this song, wanting to cum inside you.

✰ "Stop squirmin'... Let me fill you up baby,"

✰ He doesn't like pulling your hair or choking you but he will dig his nails deep into your skin, for example... Your thighs.

✰ He is more on the quiet side of things, a little too shy to moan for you.

✰ After having sex he will take a shower with you and hold you until you fall asleep.

✰ "Love you so much... You're so perfect,"

"So call out my name when I kiss you, So gently"

-

Rintaro Suna

I Wanna Be Yours [Arctic Monkeys]

✰ Suna is so Arctic Monkeys coded. He just fits that vibe so well, I love it .

✰ Currently you and Suna aren't together, only fucking whenever you feel like it but... Recently he had started developing feelings for you.

✰ Playing this song helps you see how he feels, and with that he fucks you to it.

✰ He is rough but soft. He will start off slow and then speed up the pace when you begin whining for more.

✰ He likes smelling your hair as he fucks you, breathing in your scent.

✰ "You smell good... Did you get a new perfume?"

✰ He barely makes any noise during sex, not feeling too comfortable yet. He doesn't know whether or not you like guys who do that or not.

✰ He tries his best to please you. If he cums first and you don't he will eat you out.

✰ Very good with his hands.

✰ After all of the sweat and panting, I could see him offering you a cigarette to smoke.

"Secrets I have held in my heart, Are harder to hide than I thought"

-

Bokuto Koutaro

Touchin And Lovin [Trey Songz]

✰ Gives off major switch vibes.

✰ With this song on, he will be fast and deep when fucking you. He wants to make you feel good.

✰ LOVES PRAISE ! One little nice thing said to him can make him cum on the spot.

✰ He genuinely loves and cares for you.

✰ He is a head pusher, you don't mind though, you like him being rough with you.

✰ He whines . For sure .

✰ I can see his childish self singing along to this song thinking he sounds sexy while fucking you but you're dying of laughter.

✰ He isn't afraid of being serious when needed, he will fuck you hard and serious if the mood is right.

✰ Guys . The ass jiggles as he's hitting it from behind... And no, I'm not talking about your ass...

✰ He could toss you around like a rag-doll but he's too scared to hurt you.

✰ After sex he always cracks up jokes to make the awkwardness go away.

✰ He will french kiss you softly until you agree to go to bed with him.

"Touchin', lovin', fuckin', can't make up my mind"

-

Keiji Akaashi

Versace on the Floor [Bruno Mars]

✰ I can see him being mean, dominating over you. Never too mean though.

✰ He loves this song because he likes taking your clothes off slowly, the melody of the music compliments the slow sensual acts between you two.

✰ In this song, he would fuck you slowly, almost too slow (low key cockwarming).

✰ He loves you and the feeling of being inside you.

✰ He barely makes any noise but will moan here and there to feel your walls clench down on his dick.

✰ He is very sweet when he speaks to you, his actions being the only mean thing about him.

✰ "Stay still. Feels too good~"

✰ He likes being alone with you, in the dark as this song plays. He just feels so safe and secure with you.

✰ Afterwards, he will make sure you're all cleaned up and go to sleep on his own accord.

"There's no place I'd rather be in this world. Your eyes are where I'm lost in"

-

Tetsurou Kuroo

Loveeeeeee Song [Rihanna]

✰ He is a respectful man when it comes to having sex.

✰ He will be sweet with you, talking you through it as he sinks his cock deep inside you.

✰ "You can take it, yeah? Yeah, you can,"

✰ He isn't the type to be super kinky or pull your hair... But he would be the type to steal your panties after you two have sex.

✰ He fucks you to this song however he feels like in that moment. It's just a song that expresses his emotions towards you. He cares about you a lot.

✰ You both cherish each other, deeply. It's on a level that no one can understand.

✰ I can see him moaning for you, not too much but quite a lot.

✰ His nerdiness can get the best of him sometimes, finding himself distracted when it comes to logical decisions like cumming inside you.

"I need love and affection"

-

Kenma Kozume

Hentai [Cigarettes After Sex]

✰ Look... He's a gamer and sometimes some games can be connected to hentai... Of fucking course he was going to fuck you to a song named hentai.

✰ Switch (dom+)

✰ This song is exactly how he feels about you, it's crazy that it is his literal feelings.

✰ He will fuck you slow and try not to make so much noise so he can listen to the song as he fucks you.

✰ With that knowledge, he tries not to moan or whine but sometimes his little gasps and panting is sexy.

✰ You find it cute how much he desires you, wanting to fuck you any chance he gets.

✰ "Come and sit on my lap while I play games... What? No... I wasn't planning on... Idiot,"

✰ Loves using toys during sex, finds it easier to make you cum.

✰ He'd be the type to record videos of you two.

✰ Kenma... I know for sure he makes you roleplay as anime girls, video game characters, or even animals for him.

✰ This song is his favorite one, he just needs to cum on your body after hearing it. You're his little toy.

✰ He loves you so much but shows it through actions instead of words. That's why he touches you so much.

"I've been waiting for you to fall for me and let me in your life"

-

[flickering-nightfall]

I’m pretty sure that you made a post explaining why the arm is not the umbilical but I can’t find it, so, if you did make one, can you give a link to it? Sorry if you didn’t make one, I don’t have very good memory.

I'm not entirely sure which post that is but it sounds like something I'd ramble about? I have this post talking about making a 3D umbilical and this post talking about making a 3D arm with allusions to that buuut...

If that post doesn't exist then I'll make one right now!

Here, I made a diagram of terminology I use for the puppet/arm/umbilical structure. These terms aren't necessarily canon - they're just what I use.

As for umbilicals being different from mechanical arms, it's an interpretation, I think. But there's reasons why I call them different things.

So first here's this Moon dialogue.

(I think that's vanilla dialogue? The wiki confuses me sometimes. Link here if you want to see it yourself.)

We can assume from that dialogue that the wires + cord are the "umbilical." Moon's are obviously cut, but Pebbles' are not. And Moon's puppet is still attached to her mechanical arm.

(Lots more under the cut)

Umbilicals in real life resemble the wire/cord structure far more than the mechanical arm portion does. So that's another reason I refer to the wire/cord as the umbilical.

Lemme slap some stuff from my iterator headcanons doc here.

I like interpreting the puppet as a place to focus an iterator's consciousness. It acts as a sensory hub and a means to interact more finely with their surroundings. Neurons, in turn, are active memory comparable to RAM. Moon refers to Pebbles' imprints on his neurons as "a ghost left from his processing routines." They're not meant for long-term memory storage, but upper processes such as, well... thinking... cannot be done without them. So removing neurons affects an iterator’s ability to encode, recall, and process information. (Courtesy of my friend Folly, I also think they're mostly made out of fat. Kind of gross to eat.) Although Moon's umbilical is severed, she is still able to see through and control the movements of her puppet. So either she has some sort of other connection to the rest of her can, or her consciousness comes from the puppet rather than the can. The mechanical arm’s functions would be mostly structure-to-puppet function (control movements of arm and puppet, transmit the sensory information of the puppet) while the wire/cord handles more consciousness-in-puppet-to-structure function (facilitates awareness and control over superstructure and all that encompasses). So both the cord and the arm are part of the iterator-to-puppet connection, but the cord is more important. I feel like with the wire OR the arm's internals intact, the iterator can maintain perception of the puppet. When you give Moon an overseer eye, she says, “I am not much more than what you are looking at - a little creature in a box.” This can be literal, or it can imply that her perception is just limited to what she can see through her puppet in her damaged state.

In Rivulet’s campaign, the rarefaction cell could be partial compensation for a missing umbilical. Moon can move on her arm, call up image projections, reconnect to her overseers, and broadcast locally to Pebbles after getting the rarefaction cell. She refers to it as finally having her freedom back. But we don't know how many of her systems she does or does not have access to anymore.

If you eat one of Pebbles' neurons in front of him as Rivulet he says "I would appreciate if you would not eat those. My umbilical will keep me conscious, but every neuron lost is a piece of me lost as well..." We know that Pebbles keeps his wires/cord/arm connected in Saint's campaign, though, and he remains conscious despite having no visible neurons. Does the umbilical compensate for the lack of neurons as well? Maybe there are some still alive in the structure that we can’t see, and the umbilical allows him to stay connected to them.

...honestly, I think downpour makes questions about umbilicals harder to answer than if you only base off of vanilla lore. But I like working with downpour stuff, so oh well.

One last thing - the wiki page for Moon also says this under her trivia: "Looks to the Moon is still connected to the wall by her umbilical, but the damaged hardware lacks power to let her move around." Other references to umbilicals written throughout the wiki imply the arm is the umbilical as well. But! I don't know where the writers of that got that information. I don't think there's anything in the game that confirms that the umbilical and the arm are the same. If there's anything in the game that supports that, let me know~

So to summarize: I think evidence suggests the wires + cord are the umbilical because Moon refers to hers being cut. The mechanical arm could also be a part of the umbilical, or it be considered a different part that provides function in a different way. I usually refer to them separately, but that's just me, and I mostly do it for the sake of clarity. It's not confirmed canon.

There are a lot of things about Rain World lore you can run in circles around for hours, but not find any definitive conclusions for. It's part of the fun even if it drives me nuts sometimes. Come be confused with me :)

[tillyalf427]

Verlaine+Rimbaud x reader nsfw headcannons 18+

Notes : so I read through literally every verlaine and rimbaud x reader on here AGAIN last night and there's not nearly enough out there so uhhh...here have this 😂

Please read the warnings, I'm not 100% sure how tagging works on Tumblr anymore so read at your own discretion, most warnings are only brief but I thought I'd include them anyway!

Warnings: nsfw, bondage, choking, soft dom Verlaine, oral sex, praise kink, hickeys, fingering, riding, vaginal sex, sadism, edging, oral fixation, blowjobs, threesome, female terms used for reader

- Okay but soft dom Verlaine who loves the thought of the amount of control he has over both himself and the reader.

- So like when he's asked to choke them he loves how much control and precision is needed to use the right amount of pressure and not take things too far

It reminds him of his job as that also requires precise skills.

- Or when he ties you up with ropes criss-crossing over your skin, the process of tugging you to your knees by the ropes wound around your arms sends a jolt of electricity through his skin

- Let him hold onto your arms where they're bound behind your back whilst he fucks you and he'll go absolutely feral.

- Isn't a fan of gags because he wants to hear you and hear how much you're enjoying it, how else would he know when he's doing a good job?

- He needs validation!! Whether it's in the form of you moaning, or the garbled words that escape your mouth, he doesn't mind

- Potential praise kink anyone?

- Please he needs all the love in the world, tell him he's your good boy

- His favourite place to leave marks is probably your neck, he loves it when you can't hide them underneath your clothes, call him possessive if you must

- Likes to bite across your collar bones because he thinks they're pretty

- Isn't all that confident with eating you out or stretching you open because he's always afraid of hurting you

- But if you want him to he's more than happy to let you ride his face

- And fucking yourself onto his fingers drives him absolutely wild

- It gives him the little ego boost he needs to start scissoring his fingers, eventually slipping a third finger inside you before continuing where he left off

- Most the time he would be fairly quiet however, most often he would let out small grunts and quiet moans in between heavy breaths

-And sadist Rimbaud who loves nothing more than to tease and torture you until you're begging him to do anything.

- This man eats pussy like it's his job

- He'll happily spend hours edging you with both his tongue and his fingers, stretching you open slowly with a lazy smile.

- Pull his hair a little and he will lose it

- Rimbaud with an oral fixation anyone?

- Anyway

- His favourite place to leave marks is your thighs and hips, he loves to see the red marks blooming on your inner thighs and seeing the way his hand marks wrap around your hips.

-He probably has pretty long fingers which he uses to his advantage to tease and finger you

-Loves to watch you riding him, seeing the way your thighs tremble from the effort and the pleasure

- Every now and then he rolls his hips up as well just to see you gasp and tremble

- Try not to flinch when his cold fingers trail across your skin otherwise he'd take full advantage and finger you when his hands are freezing cold, watching you arch away from the strange sensation as your warmth surrounded his fingers.

- He would always end up flushed so pretty, pale skin warming up to a bright blush that travelled down his neck.

- His hair contrasts against it so nicely, falling around you and tickling with every movement.

And the pair of them together? Well...good luck 🤣

- Verlaine would hold you down against his chest whilst Rimbaud went to town with his tongue against your pussy

- Not only that but he would 100% use his ability, increasing the pressure of gravity on you until you could barely even wriggle.

- Both would make it their life's mission to cover you in marks, hickeys, bite marks, everything

- Nothing riles either of them up more than seeing finger shaped marks pressed into your hips when you're getting changed or when there's a mark too high on your neck for you to hide.

- Picture Verlaine tying Rimbaud's hands to the headboard, teasing him until you get home before encouraging you to sink down on Rimbaud's dick, riding him as he fell apart beneath you.

- Verlaine would tease Rimbaud's mouth, pressing his dick down his throat as you bounced on his cock.

- Or Rimbaud ordering Verlaine to fuck you whilst he sits and watches, cock in his hand and praises rolling off his tongue.

- Unless Verlaine happens to come without permission then he'll stand up, fingers tangling in Verlaine's hair to tilt his head back, whispering in his ear with a harsh bite to the skin there.

- He forces Verlaine to eat you out with his own release still dripping out of you.

- Fucking after a mission when you're all wine-drunk and tipsy, making everything sloppy and messy from the lack of coordination between the three of you.

-wet kisses and it's just generally fairly messy as you all tangle together

- And if for whatever reason you have a mission where you have to seduce the target, you may not be able to walk once the three of you get home.

- They both get jealous, irritation itching beneath their skin despite the knowledge that it was only for a mission.

- The sex that night would be rough, all harsh movements, biting and firm hands holding you in place however, once they were done with you, the softness would return.

- Between them they'd help you get cleaned up, running a bath for you and helping to wash the sweat and grime off your body, fingers tangling in damp hair as one of them rubbed shampoo in before taking the shower head to rinse the bubbles out.

- Then once you were dried you'd quickly be bundled up in their arms back in bed, soft words and kisses being passed around

- And if you happen to not be in the mood one day? No worries they'll work it out amongst themselves, giving you the option to watch if you're up for it.

- And quite frankly it's intriguing to watch the dynamic between the two of them on their own just as much as it is to be between the two of them.

- Seeing the way Verlaine submits fully to Rimbaud sends a shock of pleasure through you and uncovers the urge to have Verlaine in that position yourself

- Or seeing how Verlaine pressed Rimbauds legs up against his chest whilst fucking into him filled you with the perfect ideas on how to tease him to completion in the future.

- Overall, the pair of them are probably pretty good to you in bed, they both have strong personalities and motivations so there would likely be occasional times when they clash with each other

- But if they do just tie them both to the headboard with vibrators against their dicks and tease them for hours on end 😉

[formulapookie]

👨‍❤️‍👨

Maybe we can be more than this diggianini, 2.2k

Diggia has been staring for ten minutes now, Enea asleep on his couch, legs open and thighs naked for his eyes.

The tattoo is slightly peeking from the shorts he’s wearing, and Diggia wishes he wore shorter shorts just to see more of him.

Even tho he technically doesn’t like men.

Technically.

Enea and him, they’re an exception, they’re something none of the two is willing to label past the “we aren’t gay but we fuck”

And right now Diggia would very much like for them to be fucking because Enea just looks too beautiful to be left there without touching him.

But it’s not like he can wake him up and ask for sex without an excuse, because now THAT would be gay.

Enea doesn't follow football, at least, not like he does, he's probably not aware Dybala has accepted to stay at Roma even if he head a huge offer on the table, and he had told Enea about how sad he would be about a transfer already

So he has to find an excuse, and has to find it quick because he's getting hard and wouldn't want to walk around his house hard like that while he has Enea over.

"Ao"

No response, Enea looks angelic like this, short hair framing his face in a painting-like way.

"Ao bestia"

A small movement, a grunt, but Enea's eyes are still closed, he switches positions, now his thigh tattoo is even more exposed. God Diggia wants to bite it.

"Bestia ao svejate" (Bestia oi wake up)

Enea opens his eyes, stretching lighlty revealing the V line just above the hem of his shorts, his happy trail making Diggia's mouth water almost as much as the tattoo.

"What"

He almost feels guilty for what he's doing, but all his morality dies down when he sees hoe Enea's gaze immediately goes at his dick, which is now clearly hard in his shorts.

"I'm - I just read a news that made me sad, you know? They're probably selling Dybala to whatever stupid Arab team that will pay him millions and I'm feeling really down. Care to help me feel better?"

Enea would want to roll his eyes back, he knows the footballer has actually already signed with Roma, Diggia just wants a blowjob and doesn't know how to ask for it properly.

But it's not like he doesn't like the idea of getting on his knees for him, he just wishes he could ask like a normal person.

Like "Enea I'm horny can you give me a blowjob? You know that I'd get back to you with a fuck in the near future anyway"

But he's happy with this too, he still gets to suck him off and later get his back blown by him.

"Seriously? that's sick bro. Like for real he's accepting money over quality?"

Diggia nods, Enea would like to play along to see how much it takes for diggia to give in and ask, but he's getting hard too and wants this to happen as soon as possible.

"You want me to make you feel better now?" "Yeah"

Enea smiles, moving so he's fairly close to Diggia before climbing down the couch between the man's already parted legs, letting him shift closer to the edge so to have easier access to his pants.

Enea works the fly open and shoves the shorts down, Diggia lets out a breath and curses himself for the really slim self control he has whenever he's with him.

In a few seconds he's stripped of his boxers too, he can feel Enea's lips on his tip and a hand squeezing the base of his dick .

"Fuck" He wants more, of this, always, the man is just too good with his mouth and lips to just have him do this every once in a while.

But wanting him more would be gay no? At least he thinks.

His attention is brought back to reality when Enea gets him deeper for the first time, head hitting the back of his throat making him gag for a second.

Diggia gets his hand on Enea's head, fingers tangling with his curls, pushing him more against his V-line, making him take more of his dick.

"Fuck don't stop"

Enea smiles, for as much as he can with a dick in his mouth, and bobs his head rhythmically, feeling the grip on his hair tighten and the sounds coming from Diggia getting louder and louder, grunts deeper and - fuck - masculine in a way that gets Enea weak to his knees.

Because he wants those sounds to be made directly next to his ears as Diggia fucks him like an animal, in front of a mirror so he can see how he looks when he's getting fucked, and can look at Diggia too, perfect body on display, all those moles he wants to kiss and commit to his memory.

He moans around his dick, getting Diggia to tilt his head back once again, letting out a deep moan that goes stright to Enea's dick, getting it even harder than it was the moment he got on his knees.

"Need to - fuck - need to cum I'm close I-" getting Diggia to this state where he's not completely able to form sentences is what gets Enea going, he knows the kind of power he has over him, and as the fucking bastard he is uses it at any given occasion.

He breaks away from him for just a second and looks up at Diggia, big eyes shining with need.

He meets the other's gaze in a dance of lust and desire, and has to restrain himself from getting up the floor and kiss him until he's drained.

"You can do it in my mouth, since you're so upset"

And Diggia thinks he could die now, because he'd never ask for something like that, but if it was Enea offering he surely wouldn't refuse.

"Yeah yeah ok yeah"

He's pathetic like that but it's not like Enea cared about it in this moment, he just wants to taste Diggia on his tongue and hope he's desperate enough to ask him to fuck afterwards.

He feels Diggia's dick twitch in his mouth and then a flow of hot and sticky cum down his throat.

It doesn't taste good, doesn't taste taht bad either, he's had experience enough to know this is a pretty normal taste for it.

He swallows everything, and hears Diggia curse again, he's glad he has this effect on him.

Enea lets go of his dick with a pop, bitter taste still on his tongue, and waits for Diggia to choose.

It's either he jerks him off on the couch or does something proper and gets him naked and moaning under him in the next two minutes.

“Can I fuck you? Still need a bit of release you know?”

“Yeah me too, am still disappointed by some shit at Ducati”

One would think Enea would get tired of always compromising with this way Diggia has of asking for things.

But as long as he gets to fuck or get fucked by him that’s fine to him.

“Pass the lube to me will you?”

They always keep one close to the couch at Diggia’s, that’s where most of their fucks happen anyway, it would make no sense to place it elsewhere.

“Yeah it’s uhm here here you go do - your thing”

He’s blushing, just thinking of Enea fingering himself open gets him like that, gets him hot and horny more than he already is.

Enea coats two of his fingers with lube , heating it up that bit to get it comfortable, but doesn’t waste time, he’s too needy for it.

He hints at Diggia to get his shorts off, and the man freezes when he sees he’s got no boxers underneath.

He just. He hasn’t. He is naked under there. Like he did it on purpose.

Enea opens his legs, fingers slightly pushing into his hole as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Ah”

Enea leant like to waste time, much less when he’s with Diggia an knows he’s pathetically quit at orgasming when he’s fucked by him.

He pushes two fingers in with no ceremony, it’s not been long since he did that himself but doing it in front of Diggia - fuck it was different, he could feel his own wetness being much more than usual, his need increased by a mile.

Diggia has his eyes locked on the scene, Enea’s finger thrusting in and out at a quick pace, squelching sound and soft whimpers filling up the room with lust.

He shouldn’t be enjoying it this much, shouldn’t even be looking in the first place, but he can’t help it, not when Enea looks like that, open and needy and fucking hot.

He’s practically drooling when he sees Enea pushing a third finger inside, his hole stretching around them, sound getting more and more arousing, his dick coming back to life.

He needs to be inside him and needs it now.

Enea can feel Diggia looking, staring actually, at him, at what he’s doing, and he knows it gets the other hard, but can’t dwell too much on that thought, especially when he wants Diggia to fuck him stupid and have him babbling nonsense.

“I’m ready Diggia you - fuck me”

It’s direct, something they don’t do that often, especially when the tone is so desperate like Enea’s right now, but Diggia couldn’t have waited for greater words, and just gets a few centimeters from him.

He’s got the decision of his life ahead of him.

It’s either he fucks Enea on all fours and gets to watch his perfect ass jiggle every time he thrust inside him, then comes on his back.

Or he fucks him like this, looking at him, pretty face making expressions of pleasure at each hit to the prostate, then coming all over his abs, face if he’s lucky enough.

“Are you gonna do something or are you not sad anymore?”

It gets Diggia back to Earth, fuck it he’s gonna take him like that, who cares if looking in his eyes will make him think about how beautiful Enea is.

He aligns his dick with Enea’s hole, slowly pushing in, it’s been more than a month since they went, despite his need to wreck him he tries to be at least gentle.

“Fuuuuck you’re big ah”

And it’s not like Diggia doesn’t know, he’s been told that by many many girls before, and he knows himself but fuck.

Hearing Enea practically moan that out it’s. It’s something else. 

Enea is gripping at his bicep with force, like his life depends on it, he’s already whining and Diggia is drunk at the sight.

“Move come on I don’t have all day”

Diggia wants to protest, saying he’s still too little stretched and needs to go slow, but when his eyes lock with Enea’s it all goes to shit.

He sets a rushed pace, Enea letting go of his arm and Diggia using that moment to pin both of Enea’s hands above his head with one of his, the other hand closing around the boy’s thigh, the one with the tattoo who got him so lightheaded before.

A series of ah ah ah makes its way out Enea’s chest, moans timed with Diggia’s thrusts, which are becoming more and more deep, more precise.

When he hits his prostate Enea arches his back, a long-dragged moan echoes in the room, it’s just Diggia’s name but it gets him harder than before.

Diggia keeps on fucking into him with his usual rushed and hard pace, not an ounce of self control left, so much he lowers himself on Enea and kisses him, lips chapped and coarse against soft and plump, Diggia might loose his mind at this, especially when Enea gets the initiative and pushes his tongue past his teeth, forcing them to taste each other and suffocating their moans in each other’s mouth.

“You feel so good around me fuck”

Diggia has enough brain capacity to utter these last words before being very much close to his release.

His hips buck more raggedly than before, voice becoming deeper making Enea wetter and needier for it.

He needs to feel that, and needs to feel owned by Diggia somehow.

Enea knows what Diggia wants, or needs more precisely.

Not because he’s a sort of magician but because he’s just that easy to read.

“Inside Diggia inside me. Please”

the older man is about to pass out. Enea might've just given him the best gift ever.

“You sure? I can -”

“Yes yes I’m sure just please I need to -  fuuck”

Diggia curls the hand squeezing his thigh around Enea’s dick, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

It’s not long, it’s very little actually, until Diggia comes with a grunt, buried deep inside a babbling Enea who just needs to have his release.

His hands are still held high above his head and he so desperately wants to break them free to tangle his fingers in Diggia’s hair and pull him in for a kiss.

Enea is quick to follow, a good enough flick of Diggia wrist does it for him, coming in spurts all over himself, painting his abs white and feeling his energy dissolve.

Diggia slips out, what usually is an uncomfortable silence now replaced by a feeling of mutuality.

Enea moving to curl up beside him, drifting back to the sleep he had disturbed.

In his heart Diggia knows he should understand this, himself, better.

But a part of him wants this to stay as it is, casual, confusing and hot.

Yeah, just like them, confusing and hot.

[ryuyejiho]

"I never get enough, doll" - Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fingering, Orgasm control, Sex with stepbrother

Summary: Your stepbrother's daily dance rehearsals are finally starting to become unbearable. However, he instead of caring about your arguments, gives you a demonstration of his hot dance and teaches you the choreography.

Word Count: ~3k

________________________________

Once again I stood in front of the door to Hyunjin's room and pounded on it with all my strength with my fist. Finally when the music quieted down I wanted to leave but then the door opened

"can you get the fuck away from me?" I heard a voice behind me at which I turned around

"it's you at 1 am at night playing music so loud. Don't you have headphones or do you just want to piss me off" I replied equally upset

"You know very well that this is my job and I have to practice choreography and the fact that you moved here is not my fault. Just because you live here with your retarded father doesn't mean you can rule what I can and can't do" he raised his voice at me at which I laughed rudely

"It's not my fault I live here either because, believe it or not, I don't want to be here either. And you can postpone your bouncing and waving your arms to tomorrow and not stomp around at night" I rolled my eyes, turned around and entered my room closing the door with a big bang.

I had been hearing the same songs day after day for a month. Although I liked some of them at first but hearing them non-stop made me sick of them. I already knew all the lyrics to each of them, just as I began to distinguish the voices of the guys singing and rapping there even though I didn't know who they were.

Day or night, it didn't matter to him at all. Nonstop, the sounds of various songs were pouring out of his room. Sometimes even my own headphones didn't help and let the ambient sounds through, drowning out what I was listening to. The worst was going to bed when I must always have silence and quiet around me.

Same now, lying down under the covers just waiting for the music to start playing again and it did. Despite the fact that it was much quieter than before, I angrily got up from the bed again and started banging on the door of his room again. This time when he opened it there was a cocky smile on his face that was as annoying as it was hot.

This time he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, he was standing in front of me in just shorts from which you could perfectly see the outline of his muscles on his thighs.

"Okay, now I've done it on purpose for you to come" he said and pulled me deeper into the room.

"why did you want me to come? Did you want to hear me yell at you again?"

"No. I wanted you to watch. Since for you it's usually bouncing and waving your arms, I wanted to show you what real dancing looks like." he walked over to the phone that was lying on the dresser right next to the speaker and played a song I'd heard a million times before.

He stood in front of me and as the slow rhythm of the song came out of the speaker, he started swaying from side to side. I rolled my eyes and sat down more comfortably on his bed, which was twice the size of mine. Hearing the first words of the song sounding 'fake eyes open' I rolled my eyes again, thinking to myself how fitting it was for me in my current situation when I didn't want to watch the show.

But then when he began to move rapidly and confidently he made me slightly curious. His movements were sensual and powerful at the same time and his gaze was still on me.

His eyes suddenly turned from kind and friendly to slightly squinted and fearful. With every more violent movement, his eyebrows drew together.

After a while when he knelt close to me with his hands close to his face I momentarily became hot. I sat up straight feeling the familiar tingling between my legs and the sensation in my lower abdomen. He just smiled and when he stood up his movements became faster and even more powerful than before.

When he began to move his lips to the rhythm of the song's lyrics it occurred to me that this person who was singing in the song was he himself.

Then suddenly he sat down on the floor in front of me and when his hips lifted up and he ran his hand all over his torso, from crotch to throat I thought I was about to cum right here and now. I couldn't stop looking at him and biting and licking my lips.

I knew that he was awesomely handsome but not that sexy. I knew he knew how to dance but not that kind of dance.

All the time he was looking at me with such awesome sexy and scary eyes that I felt how wet I got. My gaze flew between his hand, hip movements, his face and his eyes.

When the song finally slowed down he again began to sway sensually from side to side, he then looked straight into my eyes with a slight smirk and when the room was silent he stood in the final position holding two fingers to his stoic lips.

His face and neck were wet with sweat, his breathing much quickened, and looking at him in such a state I myself began to breathe faster. I was speechless, but not wanting to know anything from me, or at least to create such an appearance, I decided to speak up

"and that was your dance that you practice so daily?" I laughed and sat more comfortably on the bed wanting to be more credible. However, being believable with all my panties wet was quite difficult. Hyunjin just laughed and walked over to the phone turning off the song that came on next.

"Do you think it's that easy?" he asked turning to face me and raising one eyebrow at which I shrugged my shoulders and nodded "then dance it. At least half as good as me."

"as if I only knew the steps..." again I shrugged my shoulders at which he came up to me, far too close for my current situation, and grabbing my hand he pulled me up.

"I'll teach you, not problem" he smiled and still holding my hand, began to rock his hips. I tried to look in a completely different direction but because of that I didn't even notice when he put his hand on my waist and turned my back to him. Then I saw that between the bed and the door stood a sizable mirror in which we were now reflected.

"it's not that difficult. I'll teach you a chorus and if you want more I'll teach you the whole choreo," he caught my hands in his and still standing behind me, lifted them up and directed how I should move them. At first they were the usual sort of hits in the air but after a while he suddenly turned me the other way so that for a moment I was face to face with him.

Then it only got worse, when he kept standing so close to me and holding my hands raising and lowering them every now and then I felt him rubbing against my butt. I thought it was normal after all, standing so close to each other, but as I felt him closer and closer it couldn't be normal anymore.

I wanted to move away holding on to the remnants of pride and dignity but I couldn't. I felt like I was hypnotized feeling his body so close to mine and how his hands held my wrists tightly.

"Sit down," he said in a low voice making me feel my legs yield.

"I'd love to," I replied quietly, more to myself, and sat down, which he did too but more next to me.

"Now repeat after me," I looked at him and seeing his stomach and thigh muscles tightening as he lifted his hips up made me weak. Then his hand went to his crotch and, as before, he moved it upward. From this position he smoothly moved to his knees and looked at me waiting for me to repeat his steps.

I, however, just sat and looked at him. I wasn't able to move an inch, still looking only at his shirtless torso and barely covered, muscular thighs. His forehead and neck were still wet from the earlier dance, my gaze focused on the drop of sweat that was now flying down his forehead and past his hairline. He, seeing my focus on his face, wiped the droplet away with the top of his hand and tilted his head to the side looking at me.

I looked into his eyes which were then even darker than they had always been, then he licked his lips and when I looked at them I had the urge to throw myself at him and bite into his lips. I involuntarily licked my lips which only occurred to me when he looked at them.

I saw that he was thinking about something and, taking a deep breath, he suddenly stood and approached me on his knees. Within a second he was over me as I lay down and with his lips he attacked mine. He kissed me like there was no tomorrow, very greedily and even insistently. But it was so fucking arousing that I felt like a million butterflies flying in my stomach again.

Feeling his hand on my waist, I put my hands on his broad shoulders and spread my legs more to have him closer. He, taking advantage of my moment of inattention, put his tongue between my lips and began to play with my tongue. Combined with his hips pushing against mine and feeling his hardness on my pubic crease, I began to moan directly into his mouth.

He chuckles between kisses and moved his hand to my breast. He began to massage and knead it every now and then teasing the nipple with his fingers. I was both angry and happy at the same time that I always slept without a bra, I was wearing just a satin T-shirt on the straps but I didn't even know that I would end up in his room, especially I would be lying down under him.

When he moved his kisses to my neck I began to scratch his back, I was impressed by how soft his skin was so I tried not to leave marks and scratches but hearing his barely audible moan when I ran my nails harder than before, I began to drive them hard into his skin and scratch him so as to leave as many marks as possible.

My fingers moved to his head and the long hair with which I began to play and pull. Especially when he sucked and nibbled the skin on my neck and cleavage, going lower and lower to my breasts. On my collarbone he stopped the longest and feeling how hard he bit into my skin I knew I was going to have a hickey there.

When he reached my T-shirt he literally ripped the fabric of it and pulled it off of me to immediately attack my right nipple with his lips which were now even plumper as a result of our hungry kissing.

I was now one big mess, lying there on the cold floor, pulling his hair when his sucking was too intense and all I was able to get out of myself were moans.

"Hyunjin... please," I whined as my clit became painful demanding any attention. He looked at me still holding my nipple in his mouth, to which I moaned again and when I pushed my hips up closer to his he understood what I meant.

Raising himself up to the height of my face with his right hand he ran his hand over my body from top to bottom, then again from bottom to top and stopping at my throat he embraced it with his slender fingers, looking into my eyes with an intense gaze.

Whenever I saw him talking to anyone, he was always smiling and his eyes resembled two moons or two dashes when he smiled. More than once I thought he was cute at the time. But now? His gaze was so intense and frightening that my body was going through chills and I didn't know myself if it was whether from fear or excitement.

I could feel him gripping my throat tighter and tighter and how I no longer had full access to air, but after a while he slid his hand back down. He rode it over my cleavage, my clavicles, between my breasts with his finger hooking over my already sensitive nipple from earlier sucking, my belly to the elastic of my sleep shorts.

He followed his hand with his eyes the whole way, his face serious and his breathing quick and deep. When his slender fingers went under the material of my shorts he noticed that I was not wearing any underwear and looked at me smiling gently. However, it wasn't the same smile I had talked about earlier, oh no.

Moving closer to my left breast, he put his hand deeper into my shorts and, looking at me, licked my nipple. Putting his finger between my libia, he put the nipple between his lips, still looking at me. Holding the nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, his finger teased my clit and entrance.

Finally, he began sucking on it while simultaneously inserting a single finger into my insides. All this time he never once broke eye contact with me until I threw my head back, hitting the floor with it.

His other hand he placed between my head and the floor and, sucking my nipple harder and harder, his finger moved up and down faster and faster. As I got closer and closer to coming, I moaned louder and louder. I didn't have to worry about anyone hearing me, we were alone in the big house after our parents went on vacation together and left us alone.

When I was already close and could feel the orgasm approaching me with great strides he stopped and pulled his hand from my shorts. He got up and stood up straight extending his hand to help me get up. When I stood next to him, he immediately attacked my mouth and kissing we walked closer to the bed.

Suddenly he moved away from me and pushed me backwards onto the mattress with all his strength. He stood over me and with a further serious look he grabbed my shorts and pulled them down pulling them off me. He threw them somewhere behind him after which he also pulled his own down along with his boxers throwing them in about the same place. He knelt over me and put his whole hand on my pussy, with his other hand propping himself up right next to my head. He began to rub my clit quickly, at which I reflexively began to moan loudly and arch my back.

I looked up at him forcing myself to open my eyes, he was kneeling over me all naked and his hard, straight, long cock was resting against his flat stomach. He raised his hand to my mouth and put his two fingers inside. I started sucking them as best I could which satisfied him because smirk after which he pulled them out of my mouth to immediately put them deep inside my pussy.

He started moving them suddenly and quickly for what I literally saw stars, after a while he stopped and grabbed my thighs to turn me with my back to him.

I arched my ass toward him when he forced me to kneel down, slapping my buttock with his whole hand and, standing with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, directed his cock at my entrance. He rubbed the tip all over my pussy a few times, which was an awesome feeling, and when after a while I heard the condom wrapper being ripped open I couldn't wait to feel him inside me.

Not even half a minute had passed when I felt him at my entrance again, I couldn't stand it and moved my hips back but he moved his own back and slaped my buttock hard again

"Not so fast, pretty doll" he laughed lightly which was even sexy and brought his tip closer to my entrance again. This time he pushed his hips gently forward entering me a few inches. I clenched my eyes and hands tightly on the quilt feeling a pleasantly painful stretch.

Hyunjin stepped out of me only to immediately enter me full length

"ahh f-fuck" I leaned my forehead against the mattress but he grabbed my hair and pulled me upwards. Having him deep inside me felt like he was even longer than how I saw him a moment ago.

He went in and out of me all the length, each time feeling him incredibly deep I arched my back. A few entrances later, he grabbed my hips and putting his foot further down on the bed, brought me even closer to him. He started moving his hips faster, much faster, and although he was now entering me halfway down his length I felt as blissful as ever.

Moment by moment he sped up and thrust harder and harder, moaning louder and louder which was so sexy that I again felt like I was going to come at any moment.

But then he slowed down and, now standing with both feet on the floor, he moved my hips so that now I took control. I tried to do it smoothly, but feeling so much pleasure was difficult. This was clearly not enough for Hyunjin and not long after, he pushed my hips forward so that I was lying on my stomach, spread my legs giving him access to my pussy and lay on my back. He kissed my shoulders while entering me and when he was all in, he raised himself up on his hands and began to move inside me.

Slowly at first but suddenly he quickened his pace and entered me incredibly fast and hard so that my body bounced off the mattress. We were in this position for quite a while, he was moving me all the time at the same pace but which slowly brought me to the edge.

He, probably feeling my pussy starting to tighten up on him, got out of me and rolled over onto my back holding my leg, which after a while he placed on his shoulder as he re-entered me with a loud and long moan.

He leaned over me and began to fuck me even faster and harder than before. I moaned even louder and flexed my body feeling every millimeter of him deep inside me, I held tightly to his shoulders digging my nails into his skin until he straightened up.

He placed my leg on the bed, his hands on my stomach and, pressing my body into the mattress, he renewed his movements. This time feeling my orgasm approaching I literally screamed his name, my whole body shaking and writhing through too much stimulation.

"Fuck Hyunjin, I'm coming," I exclaimed and arched my back as he started rubbing my clit, smirking. As I came, I clamped my legs over his hips and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. My pussy clenched so tightly on his cock that after a while I felt his thighs begin to shake, he leaned over me and, holding my hair tightly, came deep inside me.

His moan was much hotter than the earlier ones, much higher having a combination of pleasure and relief. He lay on top of me with all his weight as we breathed quickly, we tried to calm down so for a long while neither of us said anything.

Finally, when he breathed deeply, he get up and climbed out of me, pulled off the condom and threw it in the basket in the nightstand. Again he lay on top of me but this time with half of his body and, putting his face in the hollow of my neck, began to kiss it.

After a longer moment, his hand began to move down my side, hooking my breast, still kissing my neck but getting hungrier and hungrier

"you're so fucking sexy I can't stop myself" he muttered directly into my ear and slid his hand down to my pussy

"haven't you had enough yet?"

"I never get enough, doll".

________________________________

[alexanderwales]

I'm coming close to the end of FF7 Remake, and I think it's possible that I just don't enjoy JRPGs as much as I did when I was in high school. There's so much that feels annoying and dated from a game design perspective, and this is a remake that was presumably trying to bring the game into the modern era.

I beat a little sidequest boss and then had to run back to a bench for some healing, and just kept thinking to myself "why am I being forced to waste my time?" I get it in Dark Souls, where there's a tension between pushing forward and risking it or running back to a bonfire and keeping what you've got, trying to decide whether or not you're going to gamble. Here? There's no penalty for going back to the bench, and nothing interesting happens. If you die, you just restart, you're not condemned to doing a corpse run.

But the run back to the bench took something like two minutes of my time, so the main incentive not to do it was that it was annoying, and the only reason that I did it was because it was the optimal thing to do.

The potions come in three forms at the moment: potion, hi-potion, and mega potion, which heal increasingly more health at greatly higher cost. In gil-to-health ratios, potion is the big winner. So the optimal thing to do, if you're low on health between encounters, is to just chug potion after potion after potion and save the mega potions for when you're in combat, especially because you pick up tons of potions as you go. The main reason not to do this? It's annoying. It's irritating to just sit there for half a minute doing inputs.

It's very true that gamers will optimize the fun out of any game if allowed to do so, but this feels like a case where they could easily have included some kind of option to make drinking multiple potions more rapid-fire. Maybe the intent was to annoy me, I don't know.

The combat system is also annoying me, because there are some precision and timing problems. I'm used to Arkham-style games where the movements are fluid, even if they're cheating to get that effect. Or if not that style, then I'm used to Souls-likes where there's some precision to the attacks and counter-attacks. But FF7 Remake doesn't feel like it's got much going for it in the combat department. Attacks are hard to land because the hit boxes are kind of garbage and the attack animations seem to assume particular sizes and shapes of enemies that aren't actually how the game works. Attacks are hard to dodge because there's always a ton of stuff going on, the hit boxes suck, and I don't actually have that much control over my character. That, along with the fact that some of the attacks seem like they're just auto-hitting. There's also the fact that a lot of these enemies aren't being fought too many times: you beat a boss your first time against it, so you're learning its patterns as you go, rather than dying and learning as in a Souls-like.

(I had a very annoying moment with Barret where I used one of his gun-arm powers against an enemy and had the whole shot just slam into the side of a cargo container because of how the game decided to execute that command. It felt like the thing being demanded of me was to use an awkward angle to determine how arbitrary lines are being drawn.)

I'm really feeling like I need to go back to FF7 Original to see how it compares, or at least the Midgar part that Remake covers. The original is $11 on Steam, but promises "now with online features", so maybe I'll give that a pass.

If you have suggestions for what the pinnacle of modern JRPG design is, I'd be interested in hearing what it is. If it's this ... yeah, maybe just no longer for me.

[baeklination]

New Year's Day

Date: 230101

Warnings: Actually, I won't say (but it's not something I'd put a red siren on, don't worry). I will say this: SMUT 🔞

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 1k

NOTE: If you've got a keen eye you might've noticed this is one of few times I'm featuring an in-ear (which I somewhat apologize for), but it really looks like he's not wearing a shirt, so I had to have it.

Masterlist

¤¤

"How bad is it?"

Opening one eye to meet the white of your pillow, you stay still. A headache, for sure, but not as bad as all that. The question is: do you go back to sleep or take a shower; let the water refreshen you from scalp to toes? The imagining of a clean face and body, new clothes - and a cup of coffee with yesterday's take-out for breakfast wins. The simple movement of rolling onto your back, seeing Baekhyun's shoulder in the corner of your eye washes away most of the fatigue from lack of quality REM - he isn't doing anything, just lying there, yet he's as sensual as can be. "If he doesn't react in ten - in twenty - seconds I'll let him sleep". 

He doesn't move when you slide your arm around his torso. His skin is smooth and a trace of perfume can still be detected when you put your nose to his back. Brushing your thumb across his lower abdomen doesn't do much either, except when you move your hand lower your fingers touch on an awakening part of his body. As you had hoped, the slight stimulation makes his cock rise by itself and well in your hand it grows firmer. Meeting the textiles when your hand goes upwards makes you feel like you've put your hand down his sweats, giving him a naughty handjob at the movies. On the third stroke, Baekhyun's somewhat with you. His chest pushes out further, then he pushes the covers below his waist with a low murmur.

The down-filled cover sounds like walking on newly fallen snow when he squeezes it in his hand, an outlet for the sudden pleasure and subsequent arousal he's waking up to. His eyes have barely opened yet, but his lips are parted, faintly moving in sync with the stirr your hand over his length brings out. Even so, you're probably more turned on than he is; feeling his cock in your hand makes you rock your hips and push your chest against his back as you breathe deeply. 

Letting go, you scooch down, readily followed by Baekhyun turning towards you. He's definitely awake now, but lazy - only caring about the satisfaction of being inside your mouth.

You can smell yesternight's sex on him - taste it when your lips slide along his length. You eagerly suck, relishing in how hard he is in both hand and mouth, feeling the pulse and slip of anticipation between your legs, wanting him everywhere.

Baekhyun's the same. Being still is easier said than done so after being a patient boy - keeping his hands to himself - he slides it to the back of your head. Slowly, amidst husky exhales, he pushes his hips forward and back, taking control. 

It's as if every thrust gives him the ultimate pleasure the way he moans whenever he reaches the back of your throat. 

"Ahh……umm…….."

When you glance up you're met by eyes dripping with lust which he emphasizes by letting his cock rest inside a bit longer, take a deep breath and release it with a quicker pace. You don't have to be in charge - him filling your mouth (even to the point of drooling) is exactly how you want him; pressing your lips tight, feeling the bit of bounce, and his fingers on your neck. 

But being the impatient man he is it's inevitable - in his fevered state he thrusts too deep. You choke, back away, giving him a feigned look of disapproval.

"Tshh…", he sucks through his teeth before again holding your neck when you come up. His kisses are hard, but soft. Wet. "Mmm….Good morning….."

"Good morning, B…"

It's like a carefully practiced routine, the way he immediately follows when you roll to your stomach, the way he tucks one arm under your throat and begins searching for your entrance. His cock is wet with saliva as it skims against your cheeks, lending a touch of coolness to the warmth between your legs. 

As soon as he finds what he wants he presses in, his hand grabbing tighter onto your shoulder when he starts. 

His hips pound ferociously against your ass. He's unwilling to temper his urge to come, but bruising is a small price to pay for the thickness filling you up. With the tingling Baekhyun creates there's also the thrill of knowing he'll get the ultimate satisfaction any second, knowing he'll get that explosion of energy he so desperately seeks.

Oh, he's dead set alright, only breathing in the shortest huffs, pressing his forehead to the side of your head and keeping your hips in place with a vise-like grip to match his short thrusts. It's a wet mess - saliva, fluids, sweat. 

"Mh…….a-hh…." 

He chokes - then lets out a raspy whine, erratically rolling his cock in and out, finally getting to release all that cum in you. 

When he's taken a few restoring breaths, he reaches for the nightstand, groaning as he only just manages to reach inside for the vibrator without moving closer, then lays on his side. He's still worn out by the pressing of his chest against you, but snorts and casually pushes your leg up a bit.

Ugh, the sensation when he slides it, full power, from entrance to clit. You jerk, arch, and inevitably buck. Even through the wet vibrations you hear Baekhyun sighing in a mix of fatigue and enthrallment. When he presses it against your entrance you push into the pillow, grabbing his free arm as you start trembling. 

He smiles. 

Bites his lip. 

Rubs tighter against your hole. 

The trembling goes over to jerking when your climax surges; up…up…then spills over in convulsions of unchained pleasure on the buzzing toy. 

A sheer film of sweat - remnants of alcohol leaving his body - covers his torso and your back when he leans over, nuzzling your neck with the sweetest chuckle. 

"Happy new year, babe. Love you."

Reaching back you stroke his hair and nod.

"Mm, happy twenty twenty-three, B."

●

[sophieswundergarten]

I had this idea for an AU where Lovelace's Crew survived, only appearing to die because of a twisted psychological trick that Command was playing on Lovelace.

What happens to them, then, you ask?

Pryce and Cutter tested out the first brain bolts on them, which means that the technology doesn't exactly work right. Sometimes it gives out, so they serve as a personal retinue for the two.

Anyways, I've had this saved in my drafts for ages, and I thought I'd share it. I don't have context, I don't even have an apology. Y'all know why this is the only scene I've written. (Surprise, it's because it is about Lambert /s)

Captain Isabel Lovelace awoke to a strange humming.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up. Mr. Cutter was sitting nearby, smiling excitedly. He looked like a child on Christmas, if that child had cold, steely eyes and porcelain white skin.

But Lovelace couldn’t care less about Mr. Cutter and whatever ominous foreboding consequences his presence there promised. Because she had just spotted someone standing in the corner of the room, eyes straight ahead and arms rigidly at his sides.

“Sam,” She breathed.

He turned to face her, movements oddly robotic. “Captain Lovelace.” He answered in a serene, emotionless voice.

In an instant, she had crossed the room and was hugging the man. He probably wouldn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to let him stop her. As Fourier had said once, he so didn’t get a say in that right now. Lambert stood stiffly, which she was expecting, but he didn’t even flinch, which was odd.

Pulling back, she scrutinised his face. He gazed back blankly, not a hint of… anything behind his eyes. Something was wrong.

“Sam. Sam!” Lovelace shouted, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she shook her communications officer.

“Hello, Captain Lovelace,” Lambert greeted, again, with that same, strange, flat tone, “Please unhand me. Everything is going to be okay.”

Lovelace whipped around to glare at Cutter, who was watching with a smug smirk just a hair away from turning into a full-on evil grin. “What did you do? I thought he was dead. I watched him die. How is he here?”

“Well, you know,” Cutter drawled, comfortable as he held all the power in the conversation in a tight fist, “We needed to see what you’d do if you were really pushed to your limits. No crew to speak of, excepting Dr. Selberg of course. No resources and no friends. But, we weren’t about to waste all those perfectly serviceable bodies! Even Dr. Hui and Officer Lambert were useful, once Hilbert managed to get their Decima symptoms under control again.”

“So— They survived. All of them? And you just let me think they were dead? You left me for dead?” Lovelace ground her teeth as she turned the information over in her mind. “Regardless, I ask again: What did you do to them?”

“Oh, nothing much. They were actually the first prototypes of Miranda’s brain bolt system. That’s why they tend to travel with us; it’s best to keep your most… buggy subjects close enough to fix when something goes wrong.” Cutter smiled lazily at her.

Lovelace turned away from him, looking back at Lambert. “Sam,” She whispered, “Sam, please. I have to know if you’re okay. If you’re still in there. I have to know so I know how much to hold back when I beat Cutter’s brains out, in case there’s anything important left in there.”

“He can’t hear you.” Cutter’s amicable pretence dropped, and he stepped forward to drape an arm around Lambert’s shoulders. Lovelace winced in sympathy; she knew how much Sam hated casual touch from strangers. But the man didn’t even twitch. Not so much as a flicker of discomfort passed over his features.

“None of them can hear you, Captain. And, by the way, they’ll only refer to you as such because we programmed them to. That can easily be taken away. Would it be easier for you if he didn’t speak like he recognises you? Because he doesn't.”

Lovelace seethed, unable to move, unable to think. She knew there was some course of action she should be taking, some plan she should be making, but her mind was utterly blank.

“Now,” Cutter clapped his hands together. “I have some things to attend to. I have requested that our dear Doug bring you a chai latte, since you seemed rather preoccupied with Sam, here. He should be up soon. I shall see you later. Toodle-loo, Isabel.” He smiled at her before spinning on his heel and exiting the room.

[Insert scene from Ep. 56, pg. 19-25]

Lovelace took a deep breath. The only thing left was to go for it.

“Hey, Sam,” She carefully sidled up to him. “I, uh, I wanted to show you something. Do you think you could look over there for a minute?”

“Of course, Captain Lovelace.” Lambert obligingly moved to look out the window.

Quickly, she injected him.

Then, she waited.

“Ow.” Lambert frowned, turning his head to look at her. “Captain Lovelace, I don’t think that’s something you ought to have done. I should go get Doctor Pryce–”

“No! No. Just– Just wait a minute.” Lovelace caught him by the arm, trying not to let the desperation leak through into her voice.

As the seconds wore on, her grip on his sleeve tightened, until eventually her knuckles were bone white and her hand was beginning to shake.

Pulling away from her, Lambert’s frown deepened. “I really think I should go get Doctor Pryce–” He began to walk towards the door, leaving Lovelace’s heart sinking as the last few fleeting whispers of hope escaped her.

“Oh.” Lambert paused, groaning. He faltered. “Oh no. I– I think something’s wrong–” Was all he was able to get out before he collapsed. Lovelace caught him, shaking him gently by the shoulders.

“Sam! Sam, are you okay? Are you… you?” She saw little drops of water spinning away from her into the air and realised she was crying. “Sam. Sam, please, I need you to be yourself. I need you to be okay, I–”

“Captain?” Lambert opened his eyes weakly. “What’s going on?” He looked surprised to see her crying; scared, even. “Are– Are you alright? What happened? Oh, and why does my head feel like mush?”

Lovelace laughed. It was quiet, and still a little wet, but it was her first genuine laugh in… she didn’t even know how many days. 

“I’m– I’m alright, Sam. I’m more than alright, now that you’re here.”

“Don’t call me that,” Was the automatic grumbled response, but then he paused. “‘Now that I’m here’? What do you mean? Where was I?”

“You, um, you were here, I guess. But you weren’t you. There was someone else controlling you, and it— Okay, listen. There was something wrong, and you were— In a waking coma, so to speak. But you’re back to yourself now, and we have to figure out what to do before Cutter comes back. The station has been taken over.” 

Lovelace knew she was rambling, and from the befuddled looks Lambert was giving her that she wasn’t making much sense, especially to his likely still-foggy mind, but she couldn’t stop herself.

She finally had someone on her side. Someone who she never thought she would see again. Someone she saw die. 

“Captain. Captain!” Lambert’s voice called her back to the present. “What are you talking about? The station’s been taken over? Where are the others?”

Lovelace took a deep breath, pausing for a moment as she heaved in oxygen. “Okay. Yes, the station has been taken over. The others are here, but they’re… They’re prisoners. I have so much to tell you, but we have to be quick.” 

She stood up, supporting Lambert as he attempted to rise. “First things first, can you stand?”

“I think so…”

“Good.” Lovelace looked around anxiously. “We don’t have long until Cutter comes back, and you need to be able to pretend that you’re still under their control. Come on, up you get.”

She helped him up, trying to figure out the best way to explain what had happened to her friend. Was he still her friend? He seemed to be. He appeared to be back to himself, but there was a part of her that was worried this was all a trick, somehow. Something extra cruel that Cutter had cooked up just to be awful.

Once Lambert was at least mostly stable, she backed up, looking deep into his eyes.

“Alright, tell me something only Sam would know. No, wait. What was the name of our AI on the Hephaestus?”

Lambert looked puzzled. “Rhea? But why would you ask that? Anyone could know what the name of our AI autopilot is; it’s a matter of public record.”

Lovelace released a sigh of relief. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re you. Now, Cutter could be back any moment. The thing is, the crew has been brainwashed. You were too, but I fixed you. There are other people here, other people who have been mind controlled. One of them, Eiffel, has already broken free and he’s trying to save the rest of them.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lambert shook his head, pulling at his hair. “The others are here? Selberg? Fourier? Hui?” 

“Well,” she paused. “Not Selberg. We’ll have to talk about that. Later. But, yes, Hui, Fourier, even Fisher. Everyone’s alright. Well, not right now, but they will be.”

Lambert blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Okay…” He began slowly. “So, to summarise, our crew, even Fisher, who was previously thought to be dead via meteor storm, are here, but brainwashed. Cutter, and, indeed, all of Command, are actually evil, and we now have to save everyone?”

[transgenderdoctorwhomst-old]

In Mr clever absorbing 11s mannerisms and emotions, which I just love the irony of that, I do wonder if it makes Clever & the doctor blended in a way where you can sorta tell who's who but the lines pretty blurred at this point. I wonder if it's blurred enough that a regeneration wouldn't even fully fix it.

I wonder if his mannerisms would be a little off, maybe to show to a point that at first Mr clever isn't used to a more humanoid body vs hydraulic or whatever the cybermen use, but as time goes on he learns to blend and gets used to movements and how to 'act' human.

I have a lot of thoughts but like not very in depth so I'ma be jumping around a bit.

But I am enjoying imagining just what would be the 'who is that' moment for different companions rn and how weird it would be for previous companions to see how the doctor is acting now. The yeah he acts about 80% like the doctor but there's a lot of little tipping points like you said that sort of point to something else.

Do you think we'd see a sort of return of timelord victorious with the planner? Maybe thinking he can bring the cyber empire into power using the tardis, either by changing history directly or a domino effect.

Idk, but I'd love to hear your thoughts <3

if the cyberplanner gets in the tardis, he is ABSOLUTELY pulling a time lord victorious. even if the cyberman amusement park planet is blown up, he'd definitely get to work on setting up a new army and figuring out what events he could change without accidentally deleting himself from existence. and he'd have to be keeping an eye on not changing his own timeline or the doctor's timeline, which is probably the only thing stopping him from going back and immediately changing every single loss the cybermen have ever faced. cant very well bring back the cyberiad empire if you blow up yourself and half a galaxy because of a paradox!

everyone will be very lucky the cyberplanner has the major flaw for a cyberman, of having an ego and feelings and potential for doubt. and also a flesh body that needs rest. and is constantly fighting with the doctor for control. and a tardis that doesn't always like to cooperate. because it would be an absolute nightmare for everyone else otherwise. any kind of evil doctor is an absolute force to be reckoned with.

for body movements, he seems to mirror 11, using his preexisting muscle memory, but i think over time he would make efforts to try and rewire it into more, you know, still and calm. less of 11's spinning around and waving his hands around and large gesturing. which is very odd to see on 11, because he's very active and needs to be constantly stimming. just some real uncanny valley shit.

we see they act similar enough that clara does feel the need to ask and can't tell just by looking, so long as the cyberplanner doesnt majorly fuck up an assumption about 11's behaviour. i think he would try to learn how to mimic the doctor, because it's useful if he can run around calling in any favors owed to the doctor. he just cant resist the urge to be a mean little shit to people, much more than the doctor usually is. (and 11 can be a mean little shit).

he does have the tell that he talks in a lower, more gravelly voice than the doctor, though. like he's trying to replicate the modulated cyberman voices. which is fun and definitely not something the cyberplanner is doing on purpose, i think it just sounds more correct to him.

i have no idea how a regeneration would affect, but considering 11 doesn't actually have any regenerations left until gallifrey gives him a new cycle, who knows when 11 might get the chance to try. the cybermen need physical parts installed though, so there's probably still some physical component wired inside his brain that could be burned out. the problem is not killing the doctor in the process.

[ameliawarnerr]

Criminal Haven

Read the Prologue

Chapter 1: Old Friends

—The Leader—

“What the hell was that?” The unknown guy shouts. His soft facial features give away his youngness. From the five of us, only he appears to be frightened but he's hiding it well by the annoyed look on his face.

“You are asking us?” The bitterness in Hannah's voice has only increased. Six days ago she was freed. She was welcomed by her family and must have thought the craziness was over. I can only imagine her rage after finding her tied again and worst of all– her ex-kidnapper sits beside her.

The guys look at Hannah from me. Then, his face shows dismissal of whatever he was about to say. He lowers his voice, finding the right tone of seriousness and says without looking at any of us, “Look, if it's a prank you all are playing on me, stop it right now. It's sick.”

Jake cuts in. “Do any of us look like we want to be here?” His sharp voice cuts through the silence in the room. The guy falls quiet, his eyes flicker to me before they lower to the ground.

I examine the surroundings. There's nothing useful in the sight– except for these chairs and handcuffs bounding us. Although, to make the use of them, we’d need to first get out of them. I can't think of a way to get out this– our hands are cuffed behind the chair which restricts our movements.

I scan Richy’s body. He's not weak but neither strong enough to break through them either. My next target is the unknown guy– he's not particularly skinny but he seems tall which implies strength might not be his strong point. I have never missed Dan.

Disappointed, I turn to my last hope– Jake Donfort.

Before I can look at his body, I am distracted by his face. The crease on his forehead gives away how hard he is contemplating. And this is the time when I should be doing the same. But I cannot stop staring at him. Even if he's tied up like us, he appears to be in control.

Sensing my gaze, his eyes flicker to mine. I dart my eyes randomly around the room before they settle on the door behind Richy.

I notice the unknown guy glowering at Jake’s face as if he's making sense of something. He sighs in exasperation. “You really expect me to believe that you have nothing to do with this mess? You four know each other, I'm the only one—”

Jake isn't looking at him when he says, “I don't have plenty of time to play pranks on you. None of us do. Get over yourself.” His eyes only flicker to him at the end of his sentence and then back to where he was looking. He doesn't put much effort in when he speaks and somehow, that plays to his advantage.

The guy exhales, looks at me, looks at the floor. I furrow my brows at him.

Hannah’s drained when she tilts her head at Richy. “Why don't we focus on the one who can really do this?”

Richy doesn't react to her implicit accusation.

Hannah turns to Jake. “He has played the imposter before. He can do it again.”

I notice the softness in Jake’s eyes as he looks at Hannah. He has saved her, physically but he cannot erase the memories, the doubts that would arise everytime she has to trust someone. He can't undo the damage. I think he's realising that too.

“You know I'm right. He can't be trusted.” Hannah stresses as no one acknowledges her claim.

I dropped my head, eyes focused on my lap. I know Hannah is right about calling him untrustworthy but I'm more afflicted by his silence– he can't even fathom words to defend himself.

“No,” my head rises in Jake's voice. “Although you are right, he can't be trusted. But he's not the one behind all of this.”

Richy could have expected to be suspected but I'm certain that he didn't accept someone taking his side, especially not Jake. I know it because I didn't either. But I'm sure I'd hear a logical explanation if I question Jake now. But I have to add why I think Richy isn't the one behind this.

“He’s right.” I say, looking at Hannah. I don't know how much she'd care about my opinion. But she has to listen to it. I've contributed to her search without having a reason to. “As shameful as it is, but he had a reason then. He has none now.” I refrain from adding how he tried to end his life. And now that proves he couldn't have done this.

I can feel his eyes on me.

Before I could drown in the memory of that last video call, a clanging sound of metal grabs my attention. My eyes fly to Jake's handcuffs as his hands move flexibly around the metal, his long fingers bend skillfully inwards. I spot a long, narrow pin between two of his fingers.

The handcuffs drop the moment his hands cease to move. Everyone gapes at him, including myself as he rises on his feet, walking towards. “How did you do that?”

He answers when he is close enough for only me to hear him. “I’ve been fooling the government for years,” he stops at my feet as I crane my neck to peer at him, “Do you really believe handcuffs will be enough to restrain me?” There's a hint of a smile on his face.

“Well, I certainly didn't think you'd brag about that.” I speak as he bends around my side, attempting to free my hands too. I can feel the side of his face being merely inches away from mine. “Too close.” I whisper.

“Intended.” He whispers back. I'm glad his chest hides the best part of my face because I truly distrust my facial expressions right now. I restrain a shiver by fisting my hands and it doesn't help that he can see them. I brush off the flutter and focus on the fact that he wants to talk about something he doesn't want others to hear. “What’s the status? Who do you think we can trust?”

“Hannah’s in the clear obviously. Even if I consider it unemotionally, she could be revengeful but that's reserved only for Richy. Anyways, she's not resourceful enough to have planned this.” I whisper quickly, hoping my words are clear. He listens intently as his hands barely move.

“Neither is Richy.” He points out. “The unknown guy? Is he really your old friend?”

In my scrutiny, I almost forget our closeness. When I shake my head, my cheeks brush against Jake’s. I gulp, “If he is, he must be a really old friend because I don't recall ever meeting this guy.”

Jake commits the same mistakes as he nods and his face almost fits the crook of my neck. I exhale. He clears his throat. “I’d need you to talk to him.”

“I don't know. He seems resentful.” I argue.

“Not of you, though.” I hear the handcuffs drop and I sigh in relief, retreating my hands.

I run my palm against the reddish mark they have left. “What? How do you know?” I ask him as he retreats.

“I’m observant.” He reasons before moving to Hannah. He gets rid of her cuffs in less than ten seconds.

She doesn't get on her feet. Instead, she wraps her arms around herself then puts a palm on her forehead. I wish I had the time to empathise with her or comfort her but I’m on the edge myself. And one thing I know about life: get comfortable on the edge if you wish to survive. My being comfortable on the edge brings indifference and insensitivity with it.

I rise and walk to Richy. He acknowledges my presence by turning his head in my direction but his eyes don't meet mine. “Just because I vindicated you doesn't mean you have my trust. You want yourself out of those cuffs, give me your word that you wouldn't do anything reckless.” By the time I'm finished, Jake walks past me. He stops in front of the door behind Richy’s chair, examining it.

I drop my eyes to Richy again. This time, he looks at me. His face is worse than it looked from my spot earlier. “You think I’m crazy.” He says not as much to me as himself.

I cross my arms. “Like I said, I think you can't be trusted. And I don't care one bit if you stay tied to this chair. Give me your word and we free you. This is a one time and only offer you'd get from me. Take it or leave it.”

He nods a couple of times. “Fine. I'd ask you to free me but that’d contradict your distrust.” I avert my eyes from him. “You don't seem to notice that but I do. So I’d rather ask you to free me of this chair then you can keep me in handcuffs.”

Jake turns to me, waiting for me to make the call. I nod at him and he unlocks Richy’s cuffs. Slowly, Richy turns to Jake offering his hands to be cuffed again. Jake shoves one of the cuffs in his pocket as the other hangs outside. I glare at him. “What are you doing, Jake?”

“I’m keeping them with me, just in case.” He answers. Already aware of my dissent, he leads me to a corner.

“We cannot trust him, Jake. We have no idea what's going on here. We can't rule anyone out so easily.” I point out, not bothering to mention the exception to this: Hannah. He already knows it.

“You ruled me out of your suspicion.” He points out.

“I trust you.” These words come out as easily as they have many times before. “And don't you play with words or argue. Eloquence is my expertise not yours.” That's why I could get the things out of the people involved. Things they didn't tell their friends. Although Jake isn't entirely terrible with words when it comes to arguments, I don't say that to him.

“I know. It is mine to guide you back on track when you get distracted.” He implied. If it wasn't him, I'd get angry for being called distracted.

“What do you mean? I'm being practical right now.” I refute.

He takes a step forward, his voice lowering. “I know you trust him. You just want to punish him by showing that you don't.” I stare at him, blankly. “It’s reasonable but by the look on your face, I think you didn't realise it. And now that you have, I know you'd consider it unnecessary.”

“You might be right.” I murmur.

“That guy. Are you ready to talk to him?” He queried.

I nod. “Stop me if I get off the track again.” I walk past him.

He follows me. “That’s my expertise.”

While walking to him, I drag an empty chair with me and position it in front of him. I sit as Jake stands, a hand on the head of the chair.

He looks between Jake and I. He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You are not going to free me because I'm the odd one out?”

“You won't be if you tell me your name and how we are supposed to know each other.” The unknown voice called him my old friend. Since he got all our identities right. (Though he twisted them at his own convenience. Nevertheless, they were somewhat true.) I doubt that he'd be wrong about his and my old friendship.

“I’ll tell you my name but I'd doubt it’ll help much.” He hints.

“You don't get to decide that.”

“You’re right. I'll let you decide. My name is Kai Pierce. Doesn't ring any bells, does it?” His edged voice is infuriating. But he's right. I haven't heard that name ever before.

Jake cuts in. “Cut to the chase. You know something. It's obvious so don't waste our time.”

Kai’s amber eyes flare up. “You know what?” He glares straight into my eyes. “I am stuck here because of you. If it wasn't for you—”

I cut him off. “Are you sure about that? Let me remind you that the lunatic from before made it pretty clear that we are here because everyone of us has committed a crime or two. So you want to blame someone? Blame yourself.” I countered partly because now he'd want to back up his statement from before. I don't care if it is really here because of me. But now that I retaliated, he'd have to bring in evidence. And the only possible one would be his identity.

“No. You're wrong. I don't see every person who has ever committed a crime in this room. I am here because of my connection with you. And the least you can do is remember that connection.” His voice is rising and his patience drops. I don't even have to say anything before his patience lowers to nothing.

“But I'd give you a hint,” he says, growing restless. “The first time we ever talked, when we didn't even know each other well, you called me your old friend. Isn't that ironic?”

“It is ironic.” I break into an icky smile. “Darkness.”

He mirrors my expressions. “Your old friend,” he echoes.

Next chapter here!

____________________

I'm trying to bring out the side of MC that we often saw in the game: the smart, tactful leader yet emotionally available and compassionate. I hope that's working out.

If any of you are confused about Darkness: when we chatted with (normally like we do with others) him the first time, there was a dialogue option “hello darkness my old friend". This was in reference to that. For this fic, I'm assuming MC chose that option.

Also this post marks my 100th post and I have badge on my profile now!!!!!

Thanks for reading!

:)

[descendant-of-truth]

On principle, I don't really prefer Cross Fusion as a mainstay, episodic mechanic - Netto already takes up more screentime than Rockman does, and having him be in the lead when it comes to physical fighting just comes across like he's taking over Rockman's role in the show.

However, I do like the concept of it, and I feel like all of my complaints about how it was used are very easily fixable.

Probably my biggest problem with it is that, despite being a fusion mechanic, we don't actually get to see the Operators and Navis working together during it, which is like. the whole point of the series. It comes off more like they're just wearing their Navis' clothes

Which isn't a bad way of setting it up, really, but why are the Operators the only ones in control of their movements? Rockman's voice still comes through with a filter, and he doesn't speak with Netto's mouth, implying that he's just... thinking at him?? Talking through an unidentified intercom in the helmet, maybe??? It's super vague

There's so much you could do with the Navis inhabiting their Operators' bodies, I can't stop thinking about it. Blues being surprised at how fragile Enzan's squishy human body feels, even with the power upgrade. Meiru giving herself a big hug because she and Roll love those.

Rockman tearing up because he never thought he'd get to be in the same world as Netto, and Netto loudly complaining that Rockman's making him look uncool. they start crying twice as hard and Netto refuses to admit that it's because he's emotional about it, too

And even beyond the emotional stuff (or the comedic potential of any bantering), there's some practical things you could consider, too. How strong does the armor actually make them? Would Rockman struggle to use his regular battle strategies now that he has to take Netto's presence into account?

What if there was a cost to using Cross Fusion, like having it wear both of them out quicker? That would definitely add some more stakes to each fight, and make it so that it's not just "business as usual but in the real world." It forces them to think fast and find more efficient ways to deal damage

There's so much potential for character exploration and fight scene creativity with Cross Fusion, and even if I'd rather they stick to the traditional fights more often than not, I would have loved to see them use the ability in more engaging ways

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

John Cleese: Helen, I'm so, so happy to have you on this show. And the reason I'm happy is I can't get the woke people to come on and discuss it with me. We've asked over a dozen of them and they've basically refused. So, the way I want you to help me, Helen is that since they won't come on to answer the questions I'd like to ask, if I ask you those questions, will you give me the answers that they would normally give? Because you studied that, and you know how they think and why won't they discuss this with me?

Helen Pluckrose: So, you are coming here from a Marketplace of Ideas approach. The concept of debate, of bringing ideas together, comparing them, seeing which stand up best to critique, qualifying them, having them critique each other, is understood largely as a western white masculinist tradition.

Cleese: So, this is liberalism would you say?

Pluckrose: Yes, liberalism is very explicitly critiqued in what I would call "critical social justice," and most people call wokeness. Liberalism is the big enemy. This idea that if we get people together, we are then rational agents who can evaluate ideas, compare them and replace bad ideas with better ones, or as John Stewart Mill would say, "exchange error for truth."

This is, to the social justice activists, a western philosophy. It does not allow for the lived experience and the different knowledges of marginalized people.

Cleese: As I am a straight, white male, and an imperialist apparently...

Pluckrose: Yes, apparently.

Cleese: ... is that why they won't speak to me?

Pluckrose: It certainly is a big strike against you, yes. But even more than that, have you taken effort to educate yourself, do the work, uncover your own biases, dismantle your whiteness, detoxify your masculinity and decolonize your concepts of knowledge? Because if you have not done any of this, then you are not woke, you are not awake to the systems of power and privilege, you are still asleep and so there is no point in in speaking to you.

Cleese: Okay, but the whole thing sounds to me really quite authoritarian. Slightly like the medieval church. I mean they're very much saying what you can -- not just what you can say, but also really what you can think.

Pluckrose: It certainly is an authoritarian system. But if you truly believe that these systems of oppressive power absolutely exist and permeate everything, that they are perpetuated through language, they are doing harm to marginalized people every minute of every day, then the idea to control what people can say and what they can think and also to subject them to unconscious bias training to retrain their minds, does seem like a an effective way to achieve social justice.

Liberals like me and like you, presumably, will argue with this and say, no we need to argue about these bad ideas, we need to defeat these bad ideas by showing why they are bad. This doesn't work to the critical social justice people.

Cleese: Well one of the women who would not come on the show said that the very fact that we are having a discussion is the problem. I mean...

Pluckrose: Yeah, this this is particularly strong in the postcolonial, decolonial movement. You want to have a debate -- I don't know if you've seen the slogans, "my existence is not up for debate," that comes from the Trans Rights Movement -- if you want to debate...

Cleese: So, to disagree with them means that you're trying to disappear them completely.

Pluckrose: That's what it comes down to, yes. I mean, we saw Linda Sarsour also said, criticism of Islam, for example, is the denial of her right to exist. Now obviously, if Islam didn't exist, Linda still would, but the idea is that by criticizing any Identity or any belief system, you are not allowing people to exist as they are. But they just speak of existing, and even of genocide.

Cleese: I think an awful lot of people have no idea that that's what some aspects of woke are about, because they just say, well being woke is kind to people. And you know that's great.

Pluckrose: This idea that wokeness is about being nice, it is about just being aware of racism, sexism and homophobia and being opposed to it...

Cleese: Well, that's all totally sensible.

Pluckrose: Yes, but of course this is -- wokeness is not the only framework from which this can be done. Liberals also have been opposing racism for a very long time. Marxists oppose it on the grounds that it divides the working class. Conservatives generally oppose this as well, religious believers think that we are all the children of God.

This is what I have argued: any kind of policy needs to allow for people to come from different frameworks in opposing racism, sexism, homophobia or other bigotries. But the critical social justice movement does not accept that other frameworks do this.

Cleese: We mentioned cancel culture earlier. Do you want to add anything to that?

Pluckrose: Cancel culture is something that I've been dealing with for for quite a while. Because a lot of time people think of cancel culture as something that affects celebrities who are being hounded and perhaps not allowed to speak in one particular arena. And they say, "but you're still speaking, you haven't been canceled at all."

But if you look at who is actually being cancelled, the organization that I have worked with looks at blue and white collar workers who are being asked to undergo various kinds of training, are objecting to this training, and are being fired, suffering disciplinary action. Trade unions are very, very wary of even addressing the issue. So, cancel culture affects those who do not have a voice.

Cleese: That's very interesting. So it's the smaller people who suffer the worst, because they lose their jobs. Whereas people like you and me and JK Rowling and so forth, can speak out because they can't actually get us fired.

Pluckrose: This is why I would argue, from an admittedly biased leftwing point of view, that this cannot realistically be seen as a left-wing movement, when it arranges things so that only the independently wealthy can actually speak...

Cleese: That's funny.

Pluckrose: ... and when it supports corporations in putting, inflicting these kind of policies on workers. And then it stands with corporations against workers. This is very much against the whole ethos of the left. In the US, it's an $8 billion a year industry.

Cleese: What is?

Pluckrose: These kinds of trainings for employees.

Cleese: I'm fascinating by the way that corporations have -- they're just frightened of an economic boycott right?

Pluckrose: I am not sure how much a boycott would actually work. I mean, if we look at JK Rowling, her books are not failing to sell, are they? Even though there is such strong opinion. Such a small percentage of people actually adhere to these critical social justice ideas that I don't think a boycott can really work.

Cleese: Well, I'm hoping it doesn't because I'm thinking of the adaptation I'm doing of "Life of Brian."

Pluckrose: Are you going to be problematic again?

Cleese: I love that word!

==

I previously wrote about the whole "genocide" thing myself.

[clockworksteel]

The Void Rains Upon Her Heart: Glass Flora

In terms of monster types, of course I want to talk about Glass Flora first. Again, this won't be deep lore and is mostly aimed at those not intending to play TVRUHH themselves, and sources will occasionally be listed in [].

The two and three tetrid gifts always provide a nice overview of what a monster is about so here goes: They're almost indistinguishable from regular plants until a piece is removed, at which point it instantly hardens into glass [Two Orange Bonus Gift]. Additionally, they grow eyeballs, usually inside of blooming flowers. The eyes are the only non-glass thing about the creature, and are what they use to absorb both sunlight and water, while the roots are used for movement [Three Orange Bonus Gift].

They're one of the three monster types that typically have a "zaranoid" (humanoid) form when conversing with the main characters, although with a scar near where a heart should be [The Heart of a Monster Dreamscape], although I'm not aware of any direct explanation for why, with that source only saying "I suspect the Glass Flora all have a form like this, but I've only caught glimpses of them". Pearl's event seems to show she buries her zaranoid form underground, only letting her tail out to look around, although even in the dreamscape her monstrous form has a zaranoid portion: she's the one glass flora that doesn't seem to change form at all for events. On the other hand, Vitrea, when meeting the primary main character "Her Heart", for the first time says "I'm not supposed to look like this. I'm supposed to look like a flower to you," but after some discussion says "I think it's okay to show you this form then," indicating that she has multiple forms and somehow changes between them. If it was a part of her rather than a form of her I'd expect it to be phrased differently, at least.

Besides maybe being able to change their shape, Glass Flora definitely have some control over what shape their glass becomes: "I think the Glass Flora can generate glass with sharp edges, but they never do. They always throw smooth glass pebbles at me when they are afraid. I don't think they ever intend to hurt anyone." [Glass Duo Bonus Gift]. Additionally, Kiwi canonically makes glass hearts and gives them out [Glass Trio Bonus Gift].

Before getting into a couple specific Glass Flora, I want to go over their associated emotion, but before that, I want to mention a few things that will be useful on the subject:

Burden Gifts, which are each associated with a monster and typically are the fears of the monster in first person. Mechanically, they're basically temporary curses.

Blessing Gifts, which are also associated with a monster and typically are how the monster feels after being loved, and often answer their previous fears directly. Mechanically, they're basically temporary buffs.

The monster entry's "My Notes" which seem to be written by one of the main characters

Gem Monsters, which don't seem to experience fear the way other monsters do, but instead muse about the emotion itself and its opposite in their burden/blessing.

Orange, as mentioned in my previous post over a week ago, was the color of insecurity. To elaborate, here are some of the game's comments on the emotion: "So this is the feeling of insecurity? As if you are not enough. As if you could lose everything at any moment. It causes you to grab anything dear to you and grip it tightly. You have not been convinced that you are always enough, no matter how many times you hear it. Is that why you share love with others so easily? So they don't feel like you do?" [Citrine Burden Gift].

And for its opposite: "So this is the feeling of confidence? It makes you feel strong. Like you can handle greater risks. You took a huge risk by being vulnerable with others, but you also gained so much. You now have so many loved ones to count on. Everything gets a little easier every time you gain a new one." [Citrine Blessing Gift].

As for regular representatives of the Glass Flora, here are a couple of burden quotes from them: Momo: "Keep her away from me! I don't want her to see me. I'm so embarrassing to look at."

Alter Vitrea: "I want to talk to that Zaraden. No, she would just tell me to be quiet and break me. She saw me. I'll probably never get to see the stars again."

As for the corresponding blessings: Momo: "You really like our dance? I'm simply flourishing right now! Which part did you like the most?"

Alter Vitrea: "You really don't think I'm too much? You really want to hear me ramble on about the stars? Then I really want to show you something!"

And the corresponding "My Notes" from the collection entries of the monsters themselves, as written by one of the main characters: Momo: "This flower really loves to dance. She and her crew of backup flowers are absolutely amazing! 'Momo and the Murder Blossoms' are going to be so popular!"

Alter Vitrea: "I can't stand to see her like this. She would rather quietly mope to herself than bother anyone, but I'm always here to listen."

Getting away from directly quoting the game, Glass Flora have a range of interests. Besides Momo's dancing and Vitrea having her own observatory and love of the stars (and love of Glacea: they're lesbian plant girls), there's also Kiwi who enjoys a game legally distinct from Dungeons and Dragons, Dot who wants to determine how to perform the perfect hug, and Glacea who loves Vitrea back.

Anyway, that's about all I can think to mention, so let's get into some screenshots. I took them with censorship mode on, since I'm not sure how tumblr would like them otherwise. Doing so delayed the post as well, since the wiki for the game only has the uncensored sprites and I had to get the events myself, but also I'm closing in on the end of the achievements and don't have much reason to play story mode at the moment, where events actually happen.

[donsgraveyard]

Ranting about Fujin because grrrrr

i feel like (and this could just be me) Fujins abilities with his control over the wind lacks creativity in some scenariossss..

Like his presence in the story mode of Aftermath. In my own personal opinion, I'd say the coolest thing I see Fujin do in the story mode with his powers is kill that outworld beast by tearing its skin away, but that's pretty much it? I seriously enjoyed watching him fight in the story with his general hand-to-hand combat, but, similar to his brother Raiden with his continued use of his lightning in battle, I would enjoy the involvement of Fujin's wind power more in his fighting in the story mode. (Also, he never uses his sword in the story mode.) Well, once, but thats in the background and barely noticeable. How the fuck are you going to change up the fighting styles from the game play to the story mode? (Same thing goes for Raiden.)

I really admire how well Fujin uses his abilities in the general fighting part of the game. Hes an excellent character to play with, and seeing the many ways he uses his abilities to manipulate his sword or assist in his general fighting style, which is what I wanted to see, is a treat, and it's fair to say Fujin is the flashiest MK11 character. I love watching his movement and his clear skill, but when it comes to his powers, it seriously feels like hes spent 1000s of years mastering them and truly being the wind. But it just doesn't carry through in the story. Fujin is a god less we forget, but he feels lacking in power. I hate to say it, but I think it's true.

I hate to compare the brothers, but with Raiden in the story mode, he implemented his powers so well with his lightning swords and flying everywhere. It's awesome, but we don't get to see Fujin do any of that! Seeing Fujin use the crown to give him that "power boost" to blast down the gates of Kronikas keep just brings his power down to me. That blast should be something Fujin can pull off without breaking a sweat on the regs; hes powerful and should be depicted as such in the story.

I can understand that it might be difficult to have fujin be that strong cause he'd just beat everyone in the story immediately or smth but even so seeing his powers used more and in a creative way with the story would gave been nice,,,

ALSO HIS FATALITIES ARE LAME!!! IDC I FEEL LIKE THEY ARE KINDA WASTED POTENTIAL JUST CAUSE LIKE THEY FEEL WEAK IDK I FEEL LIKE THEY COULD BE COOLER BUT WHATEVER. his brutalities can be pretty cool tho I LOVE HIS PLAYABLE FIGHTING STYLE A LOT BTW LIKE A WHOLE BUNCH I COULD TALK ABOUT IT SEPARATELY IF I WANTED