#and I'll speed to the edit button!!

[hadleysmis]

Malaysia's Independence

What does 'Les Misérables' mean to you?

The clips shown below is of the declaration of independence in 1957, marked with the nation's final blaring of 'God Save the Queen' as the British flag is lowered. Merdeka ('independence') is called out seven times. British Malaya has ended.

The later clips show the anniversary of the celebration of the initial year of independence after a long, long history of colonisations.

After the ethnic divide the British enforced in order to maintain order and power, Malaysia unites its citizens; and thus the ending quote, 'There's no Chinese, no Malay, No Indian... Just Malaysians.' appears.

To celebrate the independence day, the themes of ethnic unity is emphasised. Through unity, they achieved independence and liberation away from several hundreds of years (446 years, 1511-1957) of colonisation from multiple global powers.

Under British colonial rule (1786-1941), Malaya was not merely a colony but a key part of the British Empire's economic engine, with the British exploiting the country’s natural resources, particularly tin and rubber, and using its strategic location for global trade.

The British officials made sure that the traditional class divisions should be maintained. "Hence, most economic development was left to Chinese and Indian immigrants, as long as it served long-term colonial interests."

The British introduced a divide-and-rule strategy that entrenched ethnic divisions, particularly between the Malays, Chinese, and Indians, creating a fragmented society that served British interests, and of which was constructed on race and occupation.

The British colonial administration’s reluctance to address the needs and aspirations of the local population, preferred instead to maintain control through appointed elites and limited self-rule.

If we remember from the British rule of India, the class divisions they encouraged and maintained was based on religion. This later invited social and economic division, and ultimately created India and Pakistan to become two countries from the year of their independence.

The British had the habit of ruling like that. Malaysia got lucky, and they didn't go through this type of partition.

Immediately after WWII, Malaysians were fighting off the Japanese in the British backed the Chinese-Malysians with weapons, in which the communists also turned their backs and pointed the weapons at the British during this period.

The Malayan Emergency (1948–1960), a brutal conflict primarily with the Malayan Communist Party (MCP), was a direct consequence of British mismanagement and their failure to grant the right of to freely determine their own political status and pursue their economic, social, and cultural development without interference from foreign powers or colonial rulers.

The British response to the communist insurgency, which included mass incarcerations, punitive actions, and the establishment of a system that disenfranchised much of the local population, only heightened the desire for self-rule.

Despite the difficult path to independence, marked by years of struggle and frustration, the establishment of the Alliance Party (comprising UMNO, MCA, and MIC) in 1951 was a pivotal moment, showing the potential for cooperation across ethnic lines.

The Tunku Abdul Rahman-led Alliance successfully pressured the British to concede political power, yet equality was still out of reach.

The British, while eventually agreeing to grant independence in 1957, had no real intention of relinquishing control easily, and the agreements made were more about preserving British interests and maintaining influence.

The final negotiations in London in 1956, which led to the London Agreement, were not entirely driven by the aspirations of the local population, but rather by the pragmatic need for the British to stabilise the region amidst the larger decolonisation movements taking place around the world; as anti-colonial rebellious sentiments were being quickened as the news of Ghandi were spreading.

Ultimately, the independence celebrations of 31 August 1957 marked the end of formal colonial rule.

The Merdeka Day celebrations focuses on unity and democratic freedom which had been forced on them whilst the colonial power tried to manipulate its citizens to fight against one another.

This period of time is characterised by the complex negotiations between a colonial power and a fragmented, yet resilient, population seeking liberation, unity, and equality.

[jestr333]

YOUTUBE MUSIC

Hey! The ellipsis button (⋮) is broken!! AGain!! I just realised The Existential Threat by Sparks has an official album version and I'm trying to clean up my halloween playlist by replacing videos with actual official releases, but I CAN'T!!!! FIX UR SITE

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: with a new problem in smallville ridding people of their inhibitions and exacerbating urges, clark finds himself confronted with a dilemma as his neighbour arrives in his loft, afflicted by the same epidemic

WARNINGS: where to start?, slight dubcon (purely because reader's emotions are being exaggerated by an outside force (not a person though, it's unspecified)) but consent is verbalised later between both parties, clark is kind of pathetic (what did you expect from me?), kissing, palming(?), he's a sensitive guy, clark reacts to seeing reader's bare skin like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle, kind of dirty talk, clark in that white t-shirt (i KNOW you know what i mean), blowjob, handjob, clark compares every sexual experience to ascending to a new plane of existence and finding paradise, he's a loud boy, couch sex, semi-public sex? (in the loft in the barn, but literally no one is around and they're alone for hours), fingering, clark using his super speed for illicit activities, cowgirl, missionary, it's not said whether or not clark is a virgin, but he's definitely inexperienced, clark being scared of his strength being a danger to reader, praise kink (neither of them react to the praise in any particular way, it's just that there's a lot of praise so if anything i'm just showing off my praise kink), mention of sex against a wall, creampie

this is inspired by the episode of smallville in season one where there's that flower that makes people make poor decisions and behave rashly, and also by this scene that i saw on tiktok with clark and lana (if anyone finds this i need them to send me the link... for research purposes) (EDIT: someone found it so here's the link) where he just folds the moment she kisses his neck. i also borrowed a few lines of dialogue from my clark jacking off headcanons.

also for someone who rarely spells the word rhythm right first try, i use it a lot in this. fair warning there may be accidental tense changes and pronoun changes but i've tried to go through and eliminate that.

this will probably be the last instalment of the neighbour clark series, although i'll probably return to this idea eventually to add thoughts, but they won't be tied directly to this series, just to neighbour clark as an au. thank you to everyone who has enjoyed and supported this series and been so patient with me (i had no idea it had been over a month since part four).

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five!

Clark can’t seem to escape you over the next week, not that he really minds much. But it’s become almost impossible to make it through an encounter with you where he doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of coming undone. 

You’re always hanging out with Lana and Chloe in school and out of it, you’re at the Torch whenever he is, same with the Talon. He’s even come home to find you baking with his mother! What divine power hates him so much that you have to be everywhere he turns? 

Sometimes you’re not even doing anything particularly scandalous. The only remotely salacious thing you did while baking was licking the batter off your fingers, and that definitely did send Clark through the loop. Your pure existence anywhere nearby just threw him off. 

~~~ 

You have one thought and one thought only as you walk towards the barn that contains Clark’s little hideaway. The farm is empty besides him - Mr and Mrs Kent are in town at the market, so they’ll be gone for a while. You’ll have plenty of alone time with Clark. 

“Clark?” You call as you enter the barn. 

“Hey!” He greets, voice a little breathy. 

“Can I come up?” 

“Yeah, no problem.” You make your way upstairs, finding Clark reading through some book when you reach the top. “Hey, what’s-” 

He turns, and the sight he’s met with has him pausing. You’re in a pair of teeny denim shorts, a black cropped tank top with thin straps, and an open button-up. It’s a warm summer’s day and your skin is practically glowing in the light that filters through into the barn. The cute little brown cowboy boots on your feet really tie it together. There’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary about your outfit, but something about it feels different. It feels… he can’t place it. Although maybe it’s just to do with the air you have about you as you stand there. 

“What are- what are you doing here?” He asks. 

You shrug. “Well, it’s just been such a long, hard day, and I missed you. Kept thinking about you. Thought we could hang out. We haven’t hung out together in ages, you know? Just the two of us.” You’re moving towards him as you speak. Well, it looks like you’re just moving further into the space - pacing, perhaps - but he’s sort of backing away the entire time, keeping equal distance, and you’re turning to match his direction the entire time. “It’s been so long, Clark.” 

Your hand grazes over the telescope, but you don’t move it, don’t look in it (which he’s more than thankful for, because it’s currently aimed towards your house). 

“Y-yeah, we can hang out.” 

“What have you been doing?” You ask, looking around, then at him.

You take off the shirt, and it feels like he’s watching it in slow motion. The way your head turns, the way the material just gently, slowly glides down your smooth skin, and then it’s draped over the back of a chair. You stretch, arms reaching into the air above your head and showing off more bare skin. And as you reach the peak of your stretch, fighting the tension in your muscles and bones, you let out a purposeful moan. 

Clark is going to die. 

“Uh, just homework,” he says, swallowing to combat the dryness in his mouth as you turn towards him and begin to approach him. 

You smile a little. “So smart. You’re so good, Clark.” Well, you and he both know exactly where that comment’s going. 

“Uh- hm. Not- I’m not…” He’s backing away from you to keep some distance as you keep walking towards him. His foot hits a metal bucket, a loud clang! ringing around the barn as he stumbles a little. 

“Not what, Clark? Not smart? Not good?” Clark glances behind him to make sure that he’s not going to trip over something else or fall down the stairs, and when he turns his head back to face you, he’s shocked to find you directly in front of him. 

Your fingers hook onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to you by his hips. His eyes go wide as he looks down, then at you, multiple times in very quick succession, his face the epitome of bewilderment. 

“We both know that’s not true, Clark. You’re good. And smart. And strong. You’re amazing.” 

“Wh-what are you doing?” He manages. 

“Come on, Clark, I know.” 

“What?” 

“I know how you feel. I get it now. I’ve been totally blind to it because you’re too polite to look. But I want you to. I want you to look. I want you to touch-” His eyes turn wider still, and he’s still looking confused beyond anything. “I want you to taste. I want you to do whatever you want.” 

He sees then how dilated your pupils are, how heat radiates off you. You’re not yourself. Whatever’s been going around and getting to people the past few days has reached you. This isn’t you. 

But everything he knows points to this thing, whatever it is, exacerbating existing feelings, not creating new ones. So maybe you do really want him. It doesn’t make it any better, though. It’s still taking advantage. 

“Y-you’re sick,” he tells you as you lean in and begin to mouth at his neck. 

His eyelids flutter and a smile begins to pull at the corners of his lips. No. No, he needs to be responsible. He can’t do this now. Even though you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter, telling him you want him to. Even though his heightened senses are letting him know the way your heart begins to beat a little faster, the way your breath turns shallow and gaspy, the way you smell as arousal begins to form a little patch in your underwear. 

“This isn’t really you. You’re sick.” 

“Oh, trust me, Clark, I’ve wanted this for a while.” 

“N-no, you’re not yourself. You can’t - ah!” He’s cut off by his own high whine when one hand releases his belt loop and instead directly palms him. His hips buck into your touch involuntarily. “Oh my God.” You apply the slightest bit of pressure, and watch proudly as his eyes roll back momentarily. Oh, he’s pent up. “N-no, no you- you’re sick. This is wrong.” 

“Don’t you want me?” You ask. 

“Baby, I’ve never wanted anything more than this, but-” 

“Then take me!” You whine. “Fuck me!” 

“Please,” he tries, although with your hand still on his clothed cock and his neck still tingling with the lasting effect of your kisses, it comes out more like a whine. 

You lean up, kissing at his jaw. “What if it makes me feel better? What if it cures me?” 

“I-I don’t think-” 

“Don’t think, Clark. Please. Just- just let go. Just be with me.” 

His eyes shut for a moment. “Fuck,” he breathes out as he reaches his verdict. He turns his head, meeting your lips. It’s a messy clash of tongues, desperate for one another. 

You back him towards a desk that’s been set up against a wall, and push at his shoulders to make him sit down. He looks up at you with those angel eyes, pupils blown and eyebrows raised a little, lips pouting and all coming together to create a look that just begs you to ravish him. 

You meet his lips with yours again, hands reaching blindly to find the hem of his sweater. You find it, pulling it up and over his head with as much speed as possible, finding that tight white t-shirt underneath. 

“Fuckin’ love this shirt,” you mumble, kissing him again. “But I need it gone.” 

Clark nods, eagerly reaching to pull the t-shirt over his head. His desperation means it gets stuck a little on the way up, and you have to help him get it off, but you don’t mind. You’re quick to get your hands on him, as he begins to kiss down your neck, you trail your hands over every muscled inch of him. 

He sucks a mark into the skin of your neck, kissing over it when he’s done, like a finishing touch. “Oh, Clark,” you breathe out, nails lightly scratching over his stomach. He shivers a little, breath shaking. 

Your fingers find his chin, tilting his face up to give him another kiss, before you’re getting to your knees in front of him. He watches with wide, adoring eyes as you begin to undo his jeans, kissing down his stomach as you do. 

You make quick work of his jeans, bringing them halfway down his thighs, then pulling his boxers down far enough to free his cock. He looks painfully hard. Clark knows that this is his body’s standard reaction to you. You don’t. You’re also not aware of the way Clark’s thoughts run wild when he fists his cock to the image of you at night. Granted none of his fantasies have ever played out quite like today has, but he’s going to be thinking of this for a very long time. 

Your hand wraps around his thick base, and he lets out a precious little gasp. You smile up at him, and from this angle, you look like a fucking enchantress. He swears you’ve got him under some kind of spell. 

You move your hand. Clark is ascending to a new plane. 

And then, with your hand still pumping him, and as Clark watches, you lean your head closer to his tip. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. 

You lick over his slit, and his head tilts back against his wishes. He doesn’t want to look away. Doesn’t want to miss a single moment. He wants to bask in the glory of this image forever. 

And then your lips wrap around his tip, a sensation like no other, and you press forward, taking him as far as you can. “Oh, baby, please-” he moans, wrangling the urge to flex his hips forward. “Y-yeah, that’s it, honey.” 

His head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut as your hand pumps what you can’t fit in your mouth. You watch him through your lashes, waiting for him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. 

So you pull off. 

Clark just about suppresses the whine that threatens to escape at the loss of the wet heat of your mouth, and instead a rather disappointed sigh leaves him. The world outside your mouth feels cold and lonely. 

But you fix it by leaning forwards and beginning to kiss around his pelvis, smirking a little against his skin as he shudders. Your hand is still moving to a steady rhythm, and even though Clark misses the feeling of your mouth, the combined sensation of your slick hand and your kisses on his hips is too good. “Clark, honey,” you mumble, nipping at the skin over his hip bone. He gasps. “Would you look at me?” 

“C-can’t,” he denies, shaking his head. 

“Why not?” 

“Because - oh, God-” You suck his skin just a couple of inches away from his base, disappointed to find no mark when you pull away. “Because if I look at you, I think I might cum.” 

You give him a sympathetic look. “What would be so bad about that?” 

“I can’t. Not yet. Have to - have to last.” 

“Oh, Clark,” you hum with a pout. “It’s okay if you cum. I want you to. We’ll go as long as you can. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.” You reach a hand up, smoothing it over the planes of his chest. “Look at me? Please?” Clark nods, looking down and meeting your eyes. “There’re those pretty eyes.” 

You plant a final kiss on his hip before taking him in your mouth again. “Oh, please,” he whimpers, his hips twitching. 

His hands rest against the desk beneath him, but not gripping it, instead clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it towards you, but Clark shakes his head and pulls it back, placing it firmly on the desk again. 

“Keep going, baby, please. I’m almost there.” 

You pull away to breathe, jerking him off with newfound speed, and Clark’s breaths turn into panting moans. This time, when he feels the urge to throw his head back, he fights it. He holds the eye contact you’re giving him, just like you’d asked. 

“Let go for me, Clark. Wanna see it. Wanna taste it.” Your tongue meets his tip as you wrap your mouth around the blushing tip of his cock, and you drag along his slit. 

“Yeah. Right there. Yes, yes, fuck!” 

Clark crumbles as he cums, shooting spurts onto your tongue and moaning through it, your hand and mouth working him through the pleasure and milking him for all he’s worth. 

You grin up at him, kissing the head of his cock, and standing. He lifts a hand, cupping your face and shifting some fallen hair, smiling at you, blissed-out and awe-struck. 

He leans forwards, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. “Couch?” You mumble, and he nods, taking your hands in his as he walks towards the couch. He sits down on it, an old and worn piece of furniture - but it’ll do. It looks sturdy enough. 

You sink into his lap, knees either side of his hips, kissing him. You blindly find his hands, pulling them to the button of your shorts. The way his fingers move to get you out of those shorts is nothing short of eager, quick and fumbling in his desperation to become impossibly closer to you. 

He finally gets the button undone and the zipper down, and you clamber off him, pushing the shorts down till they hit the floor, and you step out of them. Clark sits forward, pretty green eyes gazing up at you, flickering down to the hem of your tank top. 

His nose nudges at the skin revealed beneath the bottom, and he takes a long breath in, eyes closed, as though he’s savouring a sweet smell. Through all this, though, his hands remain balled into fists at his sides. He doesn’t grip the couch cushions like you’d expect, doesn’t dare touch you, for whatever reason. 

You toy with the hem of your tank top for a moment, Clark watching with hopeful eyes, and then you pull it up and over your head. You hook a finger into the band of your underwear - another light blue set Clark remembers fantasising about, silk and lace and matching the bra - and pause. “You wanna help me take these off, Clark?” He nods, lifting his hands and hooking his fingers into the material on your hips, tugging them down gently. 

“Oh-” he breathes out. You push him back softly with a hand on his chest, straddling him again. His eyes trail down from yours, landing on your clothed chest. 

You laugh a little. “Touch me, Clark. Then I’ll take it off and you can get a look.” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Okay.” 

You smile, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to your core, fingers gently stroking over your folds. One finger slips through, and Clark almost gasps. 

He’s slow with it at first, tentative, until you kiss him and whisper, “Clark, please.” 

He adds a finger, finds a rhythm, faster, but still so gentle, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt you. He curls his fingers just right, prompting a moan from you. 

“Oh, God,” he whispers to himself at the feel of how wet you are. Because of him. 

You reach a hand between you, middle and index finger on your clit, and you begin to rub tight circles, gasping at the spike in pleasure. 

Clark is watching every response to every bit of stimulation, and he looks down at your moving fingers. “Does it- does it feel good when you do that?” He asks. You nod. He meets your eyes, innocent as can be for someone who’s got two fingers buried inside you. “I want- can I?” He asks. 

“Uh-huh.” Clark replaces your fingers with the thumb of his free hand. His hands are huge. You’ve thought about it before, plenty, about Clark’s large hands on you, on your chest or cupping your ass, but now that you’re actually with him in this setting, the thought turns you on even more. If only he didn’t seem scared to touch you. 

“Am I-” Clark begins, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. 

“You’re doing so good Clark,” you praise. “So good. Please.” 

He leans forwards, kissing your neck, collarbone, down until he finds the tops of your breasts. He kisses you there too, while his fingers below speed up in their rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Clark- Clark, oh, please.” 

“Good?” He questions. 

“Yes. Yes. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, breathless. 

Your hips begin to move with the rhythm of his fingers, and Clark watches in awe as you do, adding pressure to your clit and practically doubling his speed. Your eyes go wide at the feeling, intense but so, so good. He’s so fast, you think it’s inhuman. In fact you’re pretty sure it has to be. 

“Hhhmmmm, Clark, how are - fuck, oh, God - how are you doing that?” 

Clark doesn’t respond, and you don’t get the chance to ask again because all of a sudden, your orgasm crashes over you in a heavy wave that feels like it’ll never end. 

You collapse onto him, legs trembling and chest heaving. You bite into his shoulder, hard enough to break skin possibly, which you feel bad for, but he doesn’t seem hurt by it. 

“Oh my God, Clark. That was incredible.” You lean back, cupping Clark’s jaw and tilting his head so he meets your eyes. 

“Can I- can you, uh…?” His gaze lowers to your chest momentarily, and you smile. Your hands reach for his wrists, lifting them up, pushing his fingers towards his mouth. He knows what you want, and he complies wordlessly, sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean of your slick. 

“That’s it,” you hum, guiding his hands to your back, to the clasp of the bra. 

He unhooks it, dragging the straps down your arms, and discards it to the side. He stares at your bare chest in complete awe, green eyes shining. 

You reach down, pumping his cock to get him good and ready, and Clark still struggles to shift his gaze. “You ready?” You ask, and he nods. 

You push yourself up on your knees, and Clark’s eyes widen a little suddenly. “Wait, wait, what about protection?” 

“I’m on the pill,” you say. “And I’m clean. Are you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And do you still want to do this?” 

“More than anything.” 

“Good.” You line him up with your entrance, and sink down onto him. 

If Clark thought anything before was good, this was a whole new level of ecstasy. “Fuck, oh my God,” he gasps. 

His hands clench into fists at his sides again. You ignore it for now, even though you want nothing more than to feel his hands on you. 

You begin to move, starting with a slow rhythm to ease Clark into it, and hooking your arms around his neck, kissing him. “You feel so good,” he whispers. “You’re tight, and wet, and warm.” He kisses you softly. “Baby, please.” 

“I know.” You pick up your pace, bouncing on his lap, smiling at the way he moans. Your ass meets his thighs with a rhythmic plap! plap! plap! sound, your hands clinging to his shoulders for some stability, because he’s still not touching you, and more than confused, you’re starting to feel even a little insulted. 

You kiss his pulse point, just beneath his jaw, and bite at his earlobe. Your hands slide up to his hair, giving a tug, and he moans. You notice his hands twitch, but he doesn’t touch you. 

“Why won’t you touch me, Clark?” You ask, leaning back and slowing your hips. 

He meets your eyes, guilt flashing through. “I-I just… I’m really strong.” 

“I know,” you say, one hand squeezing at his bicep. 

“N-no. I mean… like, really strong. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m not fragile, Clark.” 

“I know, but - I’m inhumanly strong. And if something goes wrong…” 

“I don’t care. It’s a minor risk. You know what I do care about? The fact that I have an insanely hot guy under me who refuses to touch me. And my legs feel like they’re gonna give out. So unless you want this to stop right now, you’re gonna have to take the risk.” 

He nods. “Are you sure? I don’t want-” 

“You won’t hurt me, Clark. I trust you.” 

He nods again, hands finally finding your hips, and with the aforementioned inhuman strength lifts you up and lays you down on the couch, crawling on top of you. 

“There we go,” you say, grinning and looping your arms behind his neck. 

Clark slips back into you, beginning to thrust slowly. “You look so pretty under me,” he muses. 

“Clark, you can’t just say that to a girl,” you giggle. He laughs a little, kissing you softly. He’s still keeping a slow pace, which you presume comes from the fear of hurting you accidentally by using too much force, but you’re impatient. “Clark, can you go faster?” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” He speeds up, and props himself up with one arm above your head, while the other heads south, fingers finding your clit and beginning to rub circles onto it, just like before. 

“That’s good. That’s good.” 

He nods, and more sounds begin to flood from his mouth, matching your moans. “Oh, God, baby. You feel so good. You’re so good. So pretty.” 

“You’re doing so well Clark,” you tell him. You wonder about his strength, about what he means by inhuman. Certainly, there was something inhuman about his speed earlier as he worked your clit. “Do I get to see this inhuman strength later?” 

“Uh- I probably-” 

“Please?” You clench around him for a moment. 

He falters, hips stuttering a little as a whimper escapes him. “If you do that, I think I’d give you anything you wanted.” 

“So I can see?” 

“Yeah, you can see. I’ll show you. Promise, baby.” 

Clark lets out a breathy moan, head falling into the crook of your neck as his hips gain speed, and he adjusts his thrusts to match it. “Are you close, Clark?” 

He nods. He hardly trusts his voice. “Just need a moment.” 

“It’s okay. You can cum.” 

He shakes his head. “Not before you.” God, you’d think his invulnerability would give him some advantage in holding out, but poor Clark’s so sensitive that every stroke feels like absolute heaven and it feels like he’s barrelling full-force to what will no doubt be the most incredible finish of his life. 

And then his fingers are moving against your clit just as fast as before, if not faster, desperate to get you to finish before he does. “Oh my God, Clark, what the fuck? How are you doing that?” A loud moan escapes you. “Fuck-” 

“You like that?” He asks. 

“Fuck, yes. What other inhuman abilities are you hiding from me?” 

“I’ll tell you later?” 

“You better.” 

He leans down, kisses everywhere he can reach, your jaw, your neck, your chest, your lips, even drags your earlobe between his teeth and gives it a gentle bite. You really don’t care about Clark hurting you, because it doesn’t exist as a thought in your mind that he could. He wouldn’t ever lay a hand on you, and you know that. In fact, at this point you’d willingly let him throw you against a wall and take you there. 

“Clark, I - I’m close. Please.” 

“I’ve got you. It’s okay, baby.” He adjusts himself to grab your hand, holding it by your head and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You lift your head, searching for his lips, and he’s more than happy to gift you a kiss, soft in comparison to the speed and desperation of his thrusts. You moan into his mouth as you reach your climax, body twitching as Clark carries you through it, your walls clenching around him like a vice, drawing a particularly loud moan from him. 

“That’s it,” he hums as you come down from your high. “You okay?” 

You nod, a blissed smile on your face. “So okay.” 

You card your fingers through his hair, pulling lightly, and Clark moans. “I’m close, baby. Please, I need it. Need it so bad. Can I - where do you want me to-” 

“Inside,” you say. “Want to feel it.” 

“Okay.” 

His eyes meet yours properly, finding your dilated pupils, hazy eyes, and the utter joy in them, and that’s all it takes for him to be thrown headfirst into his own climax. He presses his forehead to yours, gasping your name as he spills his load inside of you. “God, you feel so good. Oh, fuck.” 

“There you go. That’s so good, Clark,” you praise, kissing him and swallowing his whimper. “You’re so good, honey.” 

Clark pants as he slows to a stop, giving you a soft kiss before he pulls out. He watches in awe at the way his cum drips out of you and onto the couch beneath you. 

“You were amazing, Clark.” 

“You were incredible,” he says, smiling at you. 

You pull him onto you and wrap your arms around him, smiling when he does the same to you. 

Needless to say, when Clark later demonstrates his inhuman strength by lifting a literal tractor above his head (not forgetting the joke you made when you met him about him benching a tractor), you’re quick to drag him up to his room before he can show you all the other superpowers he possesses. Although he does a damn good job of showing you that super strength.

taglist;

@mariswxt @blueeweeb @ssnapsaurus @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this @milestellerismybf @purple-1995 @writergiih @elysianrosie @glennussy @rainwaterxx @brinascorpio @withthistreaserisummon @babble28 @mollymal @alexcole1326 @mizzfizz @jiminie1028

[messenger-of-babel]

The Call

Summary: One little call to each of them. One big consequence. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 2.9K

Notes: IM LATE AGAIN. I hope you all know that I do stay up wildly late when this happens cause I want to edit before I submit, even if some of these were pre-written (its 1:30AM RAHH). ANWAYS. Batfamily, I tried to get as many as I could but I haven't collected runs for about half the family cause I am biased towards my boys, but I am trying to be as accurate as possible when I can be and that includes those dynamics! So rest assured I am doing my research and hopefully that'll reflect soon. As usual, enjoy your daily feed and I'll enjoy my nap. Warnings just for general description of violence.

Much Love~! xx

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When Dick got the call, he was in his civilian clothes.

Dick Grayson was suit shopping, needing something for an upcoming gala. He had put it off for so long, since he wore the Nightwing suit more than any other in his closet. He had let it ring out once while he got his measurements taken, but when they called back a second time, his lips dipped into a frown. Excusing himself, he clicked the answer call button, stating his name. He hears the voice of Bruce, but in the stern tone of Batman. He doesn’t think that he's ever left a store as fast as he had that day, feet thudding on the pavement and breath cold in his chest as he hurries to his car. He unlocks it and all but throws himself into the passenger seat, lines on his face hardening. Throwing it quickly into drive he pulls out and heads in the direction of the manor.

He tries to keep himself composed, his emotional training kicking in. His fingers are tense on the steering wheel, passing over the bridge at a speed a cop would most certainly pull him over for. Even though he tries to take a deep breath, there's a burning in his sternum. It builds until it creeps into his neck, making him click his tongue uncomfortably.

The sensation is a rage he hadn't felt in a while, a fire that hadn’t burnt that intensely since he was just a boy grieving his parents’ death. It had flickered when he had heard Bruce had adopted a boy called Jason after him, sputtering to life upon hearing about his death. Yet he had grown, he had risen above it and had become a shelter for his younger, extended family. He was dependable, uncrackable, and upbeat, that was Nightwing. Yet as he drives back with that painful fire in his chest, he felt nothing more than Dick Grayson, the boy stricken with fear at the idea of losing his family.

When Jason got the call, he had been on patrol.

Helm securely on his face, it kept the drizzly night rain of Gotham out of his eyes. It had been a rather quiet night, stopping a few minor robberies and assaults that were common down by Dixon Docks. He was eager to return home, wanting to swing by the manor quickly to take full advantage of the hot water system before heading back to his apartment in Old Gotham for a well-deserved rest. He had just finished interrogating some of Penguins' men, about to call the cave to let whoever was on tonight know that they finally had the location of the new drug den they had been chasing the past month. However, the communication device he had set on his bike was lit, screen full of notifications.

Calls, one after another filled the small holographic display and he pressed the button to call back, leg swinging over the side of the bike as he did so. He had only started the bike but already he screeched to a stop, making sure he heard the words properly. A curse and gruffly shouted questions were his only response and when he got the information he wanted, he cut the call and the bike roared to life. He leant forward as if that was going to help him get to his destination quicker, blood boiling underneath his skin. His chest ached with the urge to sputter out pants, desperate to start the sign of panic racing through his veins. Yet he was stronger than that, keeping his cool like a tightly wound coil, muscles tensed beneath the suit.

His mind buzzes with worry, anxiety gnawing at his ribcage like a feral rat.

Jason doesn't often allow himself to be emotional on the job, despite his tendency for rage.

But rage was different. Rage burned and warmed him up from the inside, was the force that he put behind every punch or kick. It was his kindling, and it served to guide him as well as any star. Of course, Bruce had tempered it somewhat, but he had just guided Jason into turning it into something else, not getting rid of entirely. He used rage to protect the people of the city, the outrage he felt when he saw them get treated badly. He used rage when coming to his family's defence, the sight of hands being laid on people he had come to care for sparking it too. Those were the rages he was used to using, although there was always a third.

The pit.

The rage that bubbled away in the back of his mind, hidden behind a tall wall and shoved into the deepest part of him. That was the rage that crept forth, green and poisonous in his veins and clouding his judgement in a fog of pain and despair and anger. When it would appear, he would often take a moment to himself to pack it back away, contain it once more in the bulletproof casing of his heart. Yet right now, he didn't want to put it back. It made him rev the bike harder, made him feel like he was getting there quicker. The bike kicked up water as he zig zagged through the back streets, his mental map of Gotham rerouting anytime the traffic was longer than five cars deep. He couldn't afford to lost time, to not be fast enough. Not now, not this time, and if he had to use the rage the pit cursed him with, he would.

Tim was at the manor, holed up in his room when he got the call.

It had been a long night the night before, tossing restlessly. Not that he would have told anyone, but the last fight with Bane had left him with a few more bruises than he had let on, cleverly hidden from the keen eyes of Alfred. He wanted to nurse them himself, carry his own weight. In fact, he had been sulking in his room going over the things that had been troubling him, knees pulled to his chest.

Dick was capable and dependable, and the first Robin, the biggest shoes to fill. Jason was tenacious but loved deeply, and he fought for what was right. His methods might be unconventional to the Bat sometimes, but he knew what he wanted to fight for. Steph had flown the nest to become Spoiler, Cass already had such a firm grasp of who she wanted to become now that she was Orphan. Barbara had even been able to turn her life around after being put into her wheelchair, her desire to help leading her to become Oracle when she had to hang up Batgirl. Even Damian, the true son of Bruce Wayne, was so confident, growing at a rate he knew Bruce was quietly proud of.

But then there was Tim, who stayed up on weekends trying to redesign his suit, to carve his own vigilante life, only to look on it and see the traces of his time as Robin printed clearly on it. The role of Robin had outgrown him, but there was the shred of doubt that whispered in his ear that just maybe, he hadn't outgrown it. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his daze, and he let it go to voicemail. When it came again, he grabbed his phone with the desire to turn it off, but seeing the emergency signal had him picking up right away.

"Hello?" he called, sitting right up in bed. His eyes widened and he shelved his pity party, running out of his room.

He winds through the halls of the manor until he finds the door he's looking for. Tim's knuckles rap against the wood loudly, repeating until a disgruntled Damian comes to the door, swinging it open violently. "This better be good, Drake." he deadpans, scanning the flustered state of the older boy. Tim just turns his phone screen, showing the emergency call signal before gesturing to the direction of the grandfather clock with his head. "We've got to go." he says curtly, the young boy hot on his heels after he recovers from his shock.

Both of them head to the cave and prepare to depart immediately. Tim slips the suit over his skin like an outgrown shedding, domino mask sliding onto his face. He couldn’t recognise his own face when he caught sight of it in the glass reflection, but a mask and suit would never be enough to hide the panic that clung to him tighter than the Red Robin suit.

When Bruce got the call, he was at Wayne Enterprises.

He was making a rare appearance at the office, knowing that Lucius had something that he wanted to talk to him about. His office felt foreign and sterile, empty and unreal. The glass surfaces everywhere let him glimpse the face of Bruce Wayne, a face that he was beginning to see less and less. It felt uncanny seeing himself without the cowl, and sometimes when he was working, he could swear he saw a reflection of the bat ears in the window beside him. The night had dragged on, and he was only an hour into the meeting with Lucius when the phone in his suit pocket rang.

He and Lucius shared a sceptical look as he turned the phone screen. The call location wasn't displaying as the Batcave, the only place that could contact this phone directly outside of his children, Lucius and Alfred's personal mobile. Yet he knew Red Hood was taking the brunt of patrol tonight, and Bruce was intended to join him after the meeting. Dick was carrying out some errands downtown and everyone else had either stayed home or didn't contact him like this often. The girls preferred to call his phone as Bruce Wayne or spoke through Alfred, so who could it be?

Lucius gives a nod, silent as he sits down. Bruce's face hardens as he presses the speaker button, accepting the call.

"Who is this?" he says, lowering his voice to the gravelly timbre of Batman.

"Da...B-Batman?" comes a broken, shaky voice on the other end. Lucius's eyes widen and flick to Bruce's immediately, mouth parting. Bruce's jaw ticks, eyes widening as well when he hears your voice.

"This is the Batman. How did you get this number?" He asks, having to focus on keeping his voice low, even though the tone of Bruce threatens to creep back in.

"He-he just had it. I don't know. He just told me to speak, I-I'm not even holding the phone I can't see anything; I’m tied, my eyes are-" you begin to ramble, struggling to get through your words before you're cut off.

"Hello, Batsy." calls a voice close to the receiver, and Bruce swore that his heart fell through the floor in that moment. His fingers tighten around the phone the same way that his lungs are constricting in his chest.

"Joker."

The man on the other end cackles, if Bruce could even call him that. "Miss me?" he snickers, Bruce's mind filling with the image of a red stretched grin. "You see, this is more of a... courtesy call. You know Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire?"

Bruce's head snaps up to Lucius, who's rubbing at his face nervously.

He didn't know, did he?

"You see, I didn't make a lot of impact going after the commissioner last time, so I had to think to myself, If I wanted to really shake things up in Gotham, who else is there? Then I thought of it, who better than the playboy of the century?" he laughs, punctuated with a sharp snap of his fingers.

"Get to the point." Bruce all but growls.

"Yeah yeah, you always love to rush me, don't you?" The Joker snarks back with fake hurt, before continuing. "Regardless, I have one of his little orphan projects, thinking I might have a bit more success with this one."

He hears a thwack over the phone and a scream, making his nails dig into his palm. He steadies his breathing.

"What have you done?" he asks, low and dangerous.

Another thwack.

"Exactly what I said. But there was a rumour going around that you know Mr. Money, so I thought I'd give you a call, you know, a little gift. If you do know the richest orphan in Gotham, then I want to give you the honour of telling him I've got one of his. Better yet, I want to give you the honour of delivering their body to his doorstep. Maybe that way, you might be able to bond over losing your fake kids."

Bruce feels sick, closing his eyes to try and stop himself from making a mistake right now.

Your life was on the line. He had to play smart.

"Where are you?"

The joker tuts on the other end. "This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. Tata for now~"

"Joker-" he starts but then he's cut off, line going dead. Lucius doesn't say anything, his own personal phone pulled out as he calls Alfred, studying the frozen figure of Bruce. It's almost like there's dark tendrils to the shadows on his broad body, deepening the lines on his face.

Bruce doesn't remember too much, but Batman did.

Immediately he had left the room, suit en route to him and arriving within the minute. As soon as the comfort of his cowl touched his skin, Bruce was gone, and it was Batman calling everyone at the same time. It was Dick who picked up first, a couple of rings earlier than Jason before Tim joined, the sound of Damian in the background. Oracle and Spoiler joined together, while the others were still pending. He didn’t have the time to temper his voice as he relayed the situation, immediately getting as many people on recon as possible.

There were shouts and yelling and cursing before all of their lines became inactive, replaced with trackers signalling that their suits were live. When he enters the batmobile he grips the wheel tensely. The lump in his throat doesn't seem to disappear, only growing larger with each second. His mind is filled with pictures of Jason. Pictures of Barbara. The smiling photos of you.

He might never admit it, but he had your photos front and centre in his wallet (something you did in fact know and used to your advantage frequently in 'dad loves me more' battles). He remembers the first day he ever saw you, cold and scared apart from the other kids in the orphanage. He had been investigating a potential human trafficking ring operating out of the centre, but when he saw you, the fatherly pang hit him. The way your eyes stared forward dully as he greeted children as Bruce Wayne, cameras flashing around him. He had enough wealth to buy the children anything they asked for, the other kids excitedly asking for new toys or clothes or art supplies. However, when he kneeled down in front of you and asked you want you wanted, you said only a few words, 'a family'.

And god be damned if Bruce didn't have money enough for that too.

So, he took you in, hid batman from you like he had tried to with everyone else as well. Yet he failed again, but unlike his children in the past, you never asked to join. Never asked for a suit or to stay up or to train in the cave. Never showed any interest in joining your siblings or throwing yourself in front of danger for the sake of the city. When he asked you why you had simply shrugged, giving him a soft smile.

"All I've ever wanted was to be part of a family. I don't need to be a superhero to be loved."

And then you beamed at him with a smile that could have lit up his world and chased the clouds away from Gotham, so pure and genuinely content. That made Bruce feel like he had finally succeeded as a father, and for once Bruce felt like a father. No Batman, no mask and cape. He didn't train with you; he went out with you to the theatre on weekends. You didn't jump from rooftop to rooftop, you liked to come study with him in his office when he had to take care of Wayne affairs. Batman may have been created to save Gotham city, but he was convinced that you were sent to save Bruce Wayne.

Now, he felt that he had failed you as both Bruce and Batman.

"Hold on sweetheart," he whispers to himself, letting his eyes close for a brief moment during his exhale. "I'll get you home. I promise."

He pressed the accelerator further, Batmobile display signaling that everyone else was suited up and across the city waiting further instruction. He just hoped, he prayed that when he brought you back, it wouldn't be in a body bag.

[gingybimby]

Tested Patience

Synopsis: You have one final thing planned for Sylus on his birthday. You've shown each other your vulnerable bellies, so you hope he's interested in playing.

Warnings/Notes: Sylus/fem!reader, Sylus/MC (you are MC), Blatant NSFW (MDNI), BDSM themes, established relationship, dragon sylus and you know, follows after his birthday event, breeding/breeding kink, knotting, panties shenanigans, pure fluff/no angst, no use of Y/N

I didn't mean for this to be so late Q-Q Life and such and such. Same universe as the this Dragon!sylus, doesn't need to be read to be understood. They're both standalone. I didn't really edit anything. If I cross post to AO3 eventually, I'll make the effort then.

wc: 4.8k

“You look like the kitten that ate the canary, sweetie.” Sylus’s amused observation followed you into the Onichynus base.

“Who me? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just happy we got to spend your birthday together.” You glanced over your shoulder at him with your smile.

You were rewarded with Sylus’s soft laughter and felt delight rush from head to toe from the sweet sound. You had texted the twins to go find something better to do for the evening and they’d responded to you with a flurry of emojis and variations of “ew” and “gross” though Luke did include brief “take pictures” that had made you swallow a snort at the time. Even Mephisto wasn’t butting heads with you this time, having performed this once in a lifetime favor of queueing up a custom playlist of favorite songs. A compromise seeing as the crow couldn’t exactly get a record safely set up and you’d faint if anything happened to that custom record Sylus had made of both your favorite songs he gifted to you on your birthday.

“So the music that is conveniently a nice mix of our favorite songs is just a final piece to the day you planned?” 

Sylus was starting to prowl. You could tell in the way his gaze narrowed in on you, taking slow, measured steps to corral you against the kitchen island. The thrill of it pooled a welcome heat in your belly but you stopped him with a single finger to his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat. It was rarely ever at a slow pace, always pumping like he was mid-exercise. You wondered if it was due to his nature in these brief moments you take to notice the speed of it.

“Don’t think I don’t notice a predator that’s got me in his sights.” You hum softly to him, trailing your finger along his shirt, teasing the buttons as if you were going to undo them any moment. 

Sylus’s controlled inhale was all you needed to know that he was going to take your bait. As if there was a world where he wouldn’t. He loved it when you had these little schemes of yours. You knew how to play into his every desire just as he did yours.

“Just how do you plan to handle this predator, Miss Hunter.” Sylus’s voice had dropped to a near growl and it took all your effort to suppress the shiver that wanted to dance up your spine.

“Oh, he’ll go quite willingly into my trap I should think.” You started to circle around him, knowing it put him more at attention by reflex. “I’m just curious if his patience is deep enough to stay in it. How quickly will he break, I can’t help but wonder.”

You slip your hand into his, pulling him along behind you. He follows, chuckling in that dangerous way that makes your hairs stand on end.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetie.”

“Aren’t we always? Where’s the fun if not in a little danger? I can take it, thorn or claw.”

You felt his long fingers flex in your hand briefly, things left unsaid but no less understood. You loved that about this, about him. This absent need for words when the two of you came together like two halves of a whole. No matter what he could read you, and while you still stumbled occasionally, you were confident that you could read him too.

Opening the door to his bedroom you had to contain your urge to grin. There was a very carefully placed chair as close to the center of the room as you could manage. A chair Sylus instantly recognized with a slow exhale of a chuckle. Always willing to explore desires with you, he’s tied you to the very same chair many times before. Always he’d dance masterfully along a line of pain and pleasure that left you reeling and in this floating space afterwards that he always brought you back from with such sweet words and tender care. You had no delusions of trying to replicate what he did, but you had some ideas you’re hoping he’d be interested in.

“If you wanted to play, kitten, all you had to do was ask.” Sylus purred at your back, hand nearly slipping from yours until you held tighter. He always reaches for your waist first, casually saying once that it simply was where his hands belonged.

“I do want to play.” You nodded, pulling him towards the chair before finally stopping and turning to face him, suddenly feeling your face heat up.

“While I didn’t plan for our whole talk on vulnerability earlier, I did want to try something different.” 

You struggled to speak over the forming lump in your throat and not think about how intense Sylus was watching you. He was always like that, you tried to reason with yourself, but you knew it was different. Still, you knew he waited patiently, even as your hand fidgeted in his.

“Control is important to you.” You finally manage, looking at your entwined fingers. “Important, but exhausting. Always making decisions, always thinking of every scenario, every way something can go wrong, and the steps to make sure it doesn’t. I just- I wanted you to have a moment to let go of that and… and trust me to hold it for you just for a little bit. No thinking, just feeling.” 

You felt his hand on your face and instantly nuzzled into it with a sigh, almost nervous to see his reaction to your stumbling rambles. Almost. Your eyes flicked upwards to look at him and it left your heart racing at the way his cheeks and ears had gone that cute shade of red you adored. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world and it was only in these special moments that you truly felt it. You bit your lip when he breathlessly said your name.

“You’ve had control this whole day.” His gentle words made you take in a quivering breath. “Do you have any expectations for how this ends? Something about testing my patience…?”

Now his other hand was on your other cheek, cradling your face as he kissed you momentarily. Soft and sweet, all his feelings in a single action. An action of pure, unbridled love that burned his insides with its heat. A flame you willingly gave yourself to if only so the two of you could burn together.

“As long as we go to bed happy and satisfied, how we get there is part of the fun.” You affirm with his lips just barely parted from yours. His answering quirk of his lips had you buzzing with renewed excitement.

“I think we can work with that.”

You had to resist the frantic delight rushing through you as he gestured to himself as if to say “do as you please.” You first point to the chair, voice quiet and firm.

“Sit.” 

As he did, you went to the collection of playthings you prepared and slid a long, narrow piece of black silk into your hand and walked behind Sylus with it. His posture was relaxed, but you were able to see his anticipation the way his fingers drummed along his legs. You kissed the shell of his ear while draping the silk over his eyes. These eyes struck fear into the denizens of the N109 zone and anyone stupid enough to become an annoyance on his radar. For you, they were an endless expression of adoration.

“The silk one is nice.” He commented quietly. You usually asked for a linen or cotton blindfold since it felt the most comfortable to you.

“I thought you might like it the best.” 

You kissed his temple while taking your time to tie the ends together. Firm. Secure. You slid two fingers beneath the fabric before draping your arms over his shoulders to kiss the top of his head. Your hands run down his chest, toying with the buttons again.

“Good?” You asked quietly, going agonizingly slow undoing one button at a time.

“Very good.” Sylus purred in response, relaxing his head back into the softness of your chest.

“You need to wear this again. I like it.” You comment on his extravagant birthday outfit.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You removed each accessory from his clothing with a methodical slowness, as if it were a sacred ritual. One piece at a time, your fingers trailing along exposed skin for moments longer than necessary. Your body heat would move around him, tease him with your closeness, but he kept his hands down. He didn’t reach for you, though the little twitches in his hands when you’d drag your fingernails lightly over his exposed collar bone or his wrist told you how much he wanted to. 

“You’re doing quite well keeping your hands to yourself.” You praised before kissing just below his ear, drinking in his labored inhale.

“It’ll take more than this for me to give in, sweetie.” You loved the smugness in his voice. The complete confidence. You wanted to ruin it.

“Oh I know.” 

Your words were punctuated with you easing the suit jacket off of him, treating it with extreme care like everything else. You held it selfishly close for a moment, basking in his scent that clung to the fabric. His fancy cologne was a custom mix meant to enhance his natural scent and fuck if it didn’t do its job. You could bathe yourself in this smell and still it wouldn’t be enough. There was also the barest hint of motor oil and gunpowder that always clung to his skin and even these you found yourself enjoying more than you thought possible. You loved your pistols long before him, but being reminded of Sylus everytime you discharged shots into a wanderer was a silent pleasure beyond making the area a little safer.

Hanging the suit coat up, you returned to your lover’s side and plucked the few remaining buttons loose. He always reminded you of those grand marble statues a master artist carves over the course of years to attain perfection. Sylus shivered with a quiet curse when you suddenly raked your nails down his abdomen. Hard enough to whiten the skin before blood rushed in to leave faint red lines trailing your movement. You watched him for a moment, taking in the barely controlled breathing and the way he wet his lips.

You were painfully silent. He loved to hear you be it talking, singing, or his favorite being your sounds of pleasure. His senses were already greater than any humans, so you maintained your steady breath so he wouldn’t even get the pleasure of knowing how much this ruined you as it did him. His hands were curled into fists now. Not quite white-knuckled, but you’re sure you could get there if you wanted. 

When you removed his shirt, your knee just barely nudged against the prominent bulge in his pants. Light enough that it could’ve been an accident. You grinned to yourself seeing those fists clench tighter and hearing your name on his lips so quiet like a prayer. 

Again, you were dragging your hand from shoulder, across his chest to the other shoulder. You trailed your knuckles up from there, feather-light in your drag up his neck and cheek. He turned his face into your hand, panting like he needed the contact to breathe easier.

“Put your arms behind your back, love.” You murmured to him, rewarding his careful restraint with an open caress to his cheek.

Going back to your selection of toys, you picked up blood red ropes. He’s tied you with these very same ones, forcing your legs to be spread and hands pinned to your back. He always talked you through the way he tied your body up, letting you watch. You’d spent countless nights practicing the very same ties to keep his arms behind him so when you started the careful knotting Sylus hummed.

“You’ve planned this for a while.” He murmured, starting to calm his breathing now that you weren’t touching him constantly. “You can go tighter sweetie.”

Your pause was only momentary, nodding, then going to make things tighter.

“Better?” You lifted your hand to run in through Sylus’s hair, always tickled how he turned into your touch like a needy puppy. You had half a mind to say as much.

“Mm. Let me teach you next time.” 

You grabbed his jaw to turn his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. He tried to be greedy by biting your bottom lip and despite your grin, you pulled back with a click of your tongue.

“Naughty boy.” You hummed, watching his hands easily flex behind his back with his low chuckle.

You quietly retreated to your own personal wardrobe Sylus long since let you claim for yourself. Hidden at the bottom beneath some loungewear was a simple black box that contained lingerie you got when Tara dragged you into a boutique because she wanted help finding something cute, but sexy. You didn’t pry, but something had caught your eye. The saleslady noticed immediately and talked you into buying it. She was very good at her job.

“Changing into something? I can’t wait.” 

You stuck your tongue out at Sylus even if he couldn’t see it. Then you slid your panties down your legs and watched his whole body tense, head turning in your direction. You pulled on the lacy under-things. The sheer fabric was stitched with decorative roses and hugged your figure. Pulling on the garters and stockings it matched with, you scooped up your soiled panties to return to your boyfriend’s side.

“Kitten…” Sylus exhaled when you drew near enough. He pulled against his restraints and growled softly.

You settled onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs. His groan was instant, head dropping to land in your tits perfectly held together by the lingerie. You held in your own noise feeling his cock throbbing against your ass. Your own restraint and patience would be tested before this was done.

“You must be aching.” You coo. “Poor thing.”

You drew your hand up his side to his chest, playfully circling a nipple with your nail. It made his hips buck into yours, making you gasp softly. It was all he needed to latch onto your neck, dragging his tongue over your skin and bite into it with blunt teeth. A part of you wanted to give in then and there, let him take you, but instead you dragged your hand to the back of his hair and yanked back non too gently. Sylus whined being dragged away from your neck and feeling your weight leaving his lap. “Wait- no. Come back, kitten. I’ll be good.” Sylus panted, desperate to feel your body against him.

His desperation went straight to your core, making you want to touch your aching clit. To drag his cock from his pants and ride him stupid. You clenched your wet panties in your hand, using the hand in his hair to drag his head back again.

“Open.” You ordered, managing to sound far more authoritative than you felt. You watched his hips buck into nothing.

He obeyed, after a few moments. Perfect lips parted to open his mouth to you and you leaned in close, murmuring right against his ear.

“Be grateful for this. I was half a mind to not let you have this at all for that stunt.” You shoved your panties in his mouth, letting him have a mere taste of the want you’ve felt all day. A truly weak noise broke its way from his throat, letting you see his arms strain and hips sadly rock into nothing. You noted, however, his teeth were tightly clenched now. A beast given a toy and now unwilling to allow you to take it back. You even tugged lightly on the waistband of the underwear only to be growled at, making you grin.

“Nasty.” you whispered through your glee. “I wore that all day and you’re gnawing on it like a dog with a bone.”

Sylus was silent, save for his low growling. He didn’t care if you were right . He was unwilling to let his prize go just for the sake of a few words lest you take it away from him. Your faint touch to his thigh made him jump as you circled him again to your collection of goodies.

Your grin was positively wicked as you eased the top off a small ice box. You popped one icecube in your mouth and took another one with you as you silently put the lid back over the box. Playing with temperatures has become one of your favorite things with Sylus. The sting of hot wax hitting your skin was horribly delicious and he looked at you with such reverence painting your stomach with the quick-to-cool wax.

“You must be burning up, love. This should help.” You hummed sweetly. 

You pressed the ice cube to his beating pulse in his neck and watched his head lull to the opposite side with a groan. You could feel the accusation that you were being so mean to the needy birthday boy.

Dragging the ice down along his collarbone, you watched the melting liquid bead down his chest in tiny rivulets. Then you circled a nipple with the ice while teasing the zipper to his pants. It fascinated you to see black scales faintly start to collect along his limbs. His restraint was waning. If that hadn’t been obvious before, the way he jerked his arms and snarled slightly certainly did. You paused your ministrations, watching his chest heave with every breath.

“You’ve been so good so far, love. Is this the end of your patience?” It was an unspoken challenge. Both of you knew he could end this at any point, throw you onto the bed, and claim you again and again until you couldn’t think anymore. Still, your words seemed to remind him of himself and his worked up thrashing settled down, even if the scales remained.

You waited a few more moments before dragging the nearly melted ice cube to the other nipple, pressing in to the area until it melted to nothing while you dragged open the zipper to his pants. You drew a heart into his chest with the wetness remaining on your finger. Palming his cock through his underwear made your pussy clench around nothing. You felt ridges and heavy pulsing veins. A needy sound tore from Sylus’s throat as you touched his neglected cock, rocking desperately into your hand.

Instead, you tugged the rest of his pants and underwear down with his eager assistance. His cock throbbed against his abdomen, tip an angry red and weeping with precum. You kneeled between his legs, hands resting on his knees so he could feel you. The ice cube you popped in your mouth has long melted, but it still left it a pleasant coolness to your lips and tongue.

You kissed the underside of the tip, letting a hand settle at the base of his cock to rub your thumb lightly against the outline of his knot. His hips only twitched, moans muffled by the panties he still stubbornly held onto. That was until you dragged the head of him into your cool mouth and dragged your tongue along the weeping slit. 

His jaw dropped to make the most toe-curling groan you’ve heard from him. It made your clit pulse and ache. Nearly made you trip over your own concentration.

“Fuck. Fuck, kitten. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Sylus begged you. He repeated his soft pleas, more desperate than the last, and your name. You knew he was close with the way his breath hitched and how his knot swelled slightly. You let him sit at the edge, staring up at him with a diabolical grin. Your lips left him with a soft sucking sound to be met with his frantic whining. Your hand dragged down below that slowly swelling knot and squeezed. Whining melted quickled into begging before settling back into snarling like before. 

“You’re okay.” You chided, resting your head against his knee. You felt a sense of awe and wonder seeing twisting horns adorn his head. “Wouldn’t you rather cum inside me?” Sylus settled, the ropes that had started whining in protest going silent. Only his ragged breathing filled it.

“Yes.” A single word in response, rough in a way that dragged down your spine. “I want to see you.”

You shivered. He wasn’t asking, begging, or demanding. It was a simple command that you stood up to obey immediately. You couldn’t resist when he talked like that. 

Your fingers were trembling slightly as they tugged the knot you made loose. Slowly silk dropped from Sylus’s eyes and the moment his eyes were free, they were staring at you- and it took your breath away. Red eyes burned into you, dilated pupils constricting in response to the soft light of the room. They never left your face.

You thought maybe you should say something, lips parting, but all that escaped was a shocked yelp as something curled around your waist as Sylus stood. That’s when you realized with a rising anticipation, that he’d been freed from those ropes the moment they’d gone silent. You could hardly process that it was a tail wrapping around you because he was backing you up towards the bed.

You fell back onto it with a gasp, flushing as clawed hands ran down your bare thighs to push them further apart for him to settle between. This was one of those times where he was unreadable to you. Was he upset? That was opposite of what you wanted. Uncertainty gnawed at you as you laid a single hand against his abdomen, a silent request to stop. He did, but his tail curled tighter around your waist.

“Did… did you not like it?” You hated that you sounded so small even to your own ears.

You felt his tail flex around you a few moments before he was crawling over you, settling between your legs like it was where he belonged. Your lip quivered as his hands, so gentle despite the claws, held your face. He leaned down, resting his forehead to yours, eyes closed before pulling back slightly to see you again.

“It was… more overwhelming than I expected.” He breathed quietly. “But yes… I liked it very much. Too much, maybe, because everything in me wants to act like a beast in making you mine. My mate. Mine to claim.”

Relief flooded you, so much so that you smiled and giggled, draping your arms around his shoulders and neck to pull him closer.

“Well… We did see a lot of different animals today… annddd I’m still an animal- and so are you.” You hummed, tilting your head as his face buried into your neck, the rumbles he made sounding like purring. “You showed me your vulnerable belly, I’ve shown you mine. What are we if not mates?”

Sylus didn’t really respond in words. He pulled your legs over his hips so that he could slide his cock into you in a single, easy movement instead. Bites were littered along your neck as he rocked in an almost lazy manner into you.

Your growing noises were music to his ears. Every gasp and sigh made up for the ages he’s gone without your presence. You were there, in his arms, right where you should be. “Sylus.” His name on your lips was its own blessing. One that dragged his head back just so that he could look at your flushed face, still dolled up in this pretty lace he resisted tearing apart when pushing it aside so he could slip into you.

“Does biting me act as a claim for you?” You asked, touching his face. So gentle. You were always so gentle with him.

“Yeah.” He murmured, dragging a hand up to your mark-riddled neck, tracing the harsh indents in your skin. “But so is filling you up. Claiming you. Letting the whole world see you carry my children. It drives me mad, imagining your belly round with my baby.”

You choked back a sob of pleasure as he finished his words in a growl, shifting slightly so his next thrust hit even deeper. You were clenching around him, needing him as badly as he needed you. 

You barely needed to tug at a wrist before his hand slid between your legs, rubbing tight little circles into your swollen clit. It was just the thing you needed as you started arching your back. Every inch of him was like it existed purely to please you. The ridges on his cock dragged against that delicious spot inside you that made you buck your hips in time with his. Even his knot, teasing at your entrance, drove you mad, knowing it’d plug you up with the intention of ensuring you didn’t leave the encounter without getting pregnant.

Then, Sylus practically bent you in half. His tail shifted to support your lower back as he pushed your legs up, nearly making your knees touch your shoulders. The next thrust from this made you wail, clawing your nails along his arms. The tip of his cock met your cervix and you swear you were starting to see stars.

“Sylus! Hhaa…Fuck! Fuck… close- ‘mso close, baby. Please! Wan’ you to cum with me… Sylus… need you-” You frantically babbled with tears in your eyes, overwhelmed as your orgasm was just on the cusp of hitting.

Sylus groaned deeply, watching you come apart around him. Such a sight will never fail to ruin him as his hips stuttered.

“My pretty girl… my mate…” He breathed out, shaking when he looked down between you to watch as he fucked his knot into you. It took several heartbeats before he forced it inside your tight pussy.

The denial earlier mixed with the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy made him whine as he was finally cumming in you. Greedy rolls of his hips tried to make it all go deeper, like he wanted it all right in your womb. 

He gently rolled you both so you could rest on him, knowing his knot wouldn’t be fading anytime soon. Not when his cock was still weakly spurting cum in your full pussy until it felt like  your belly itself grew taught from it all. It was like those holidays where you’d eat your fill and then some. 

As both of your breathing started to even out, you lifted your head to look at him. He was already watching you, as he always was.

“You know… I like how humans show their claim.” Sylus broke the silence with a lazy smile. “Metal bands decorated with gems. Eye catching. Obvious. A statement.” He reached to twirl some of your hair around his finger. “Would you want something like that?”

You could hit this man for the things he says like it's nothing. Instead you just gawked at him lifting your hand to push your palm against his cheek, only for him to take it and kiss it.

“Sylus!” You gasped in exacerbation, not sure if you should laugh or cry because his dick was still buried in you, but he might have just-

“Are you asking me to marry you? Right here? Like this?” He tilted his head like you were being the weird one, still sporting that lazy grin.

“I was just asking if you wanted rings. You said it yourself, what are we if not mates, hm?” He chuckled as your face scrunched up and you tried to playfully shove his face again, and again he caught your hand. This time he drags his sharp teeth along your palm.

“If you want it to be a proposal though, that’s fine too.” 

He said it so casually, but the words made it impossible to think.

“...You can come up with an actual proposal and surprise me.” You finally landed on, trailing your finger down his nose. “Since we both know the answer is yes.” 

Despite his nonchalant demenor, his face went completely red. He was so easy to read sometimes. It made you laugh softly, smiling at him as everything settled and just felt so right.

“Happy birthday, Sylus. I always want to celebrate this day with you, because you being born means I get to have you in my life.”

Sylus’s gentle eyes and smile that bordered with deep emotion left nothing unsaid as he leaned in to kiss you. You alone are the reason this day has any meaning, and he’ll celebrate it with you every year in this life and the next, because him existing means he gets to have you.

[leeknot]

Boundless Pleasure

A/N:I was just bored so I decided to do this.Please don't be shy in requesting something because I'll 100% do it since I'm weird af.

MDNI

Enhypen × Reader

---

You find yourself in a dimly lit room, your wrists and ankles bound tightly to a sturdy wooden chair. A large, intimidating fucking machine stands before you, its thick, veiny dildo pulsating menacingly.

The machine's controls are carefully adjusted by Jake, his mischievous grin evident in the faint moonlight streaming through the windows. To one side, Heeseung watches intently, his eyes dark with desire and curiosity. "Ready, sweetheart?"

"Let's start with the smallest setting." Heeseung suggests, his voice low and commanding. Jake chuckles, hitting the button that activates the machine. The dildo begins to thrust slowly, its thick head tapping against your tiny, virgin opening.

"She looks so small compared to that monster." Jake observes, adjusting the settings slightly. The machine's thrusts pick up speed, the dildo slapping against your innocence. Heeseung grins wickedly, recording a video on his phone.

The machine's pace becomes more urgent, the dildo stretching and filling you completely with each thrust. You can't help but let out soft whimpers as the pleasure-pain sensation overwhelms you "Look how that tiny pussy is getting fucked by our machine."

The sound of your whimpers and the machine's rhythmic thrusts fill the room. Jungwon stands nearby, mesmerized, adjusting the machine's settings higher. Sunoo and Ni-ki sit on a nearby couch, watching with wide eyes.

As the machine reaches its highest setting, the room is filled with the lewd sounds of your tiny body being brutally stretched. Sunghoon enters, a camera in hand, filming from different angles. "This is perfection." he murmurs, zooming in on your tear-streaked face.

The machine's unrelenting pace continues, pushing you to your physical and emotional limits. Jay walks in, seeing your vulnerable state, and decides to add another layer of humiliation - turning on a vibrator and placing it against your clit.

The combination of the machine's brutal thrusts and the vibrator's constant buzzing is too much for your small body to bear. Tears stream down your face as you gag and choke, the sounds of your distress only turning the boys on more.

Jungwon, who was editing their group's vlog, decides to livestream this impromptu photoshoot instead. Thousands of fans tune in, watching as the machine mercilessly destroys your innocence. The chat is filled with lewd comments and requests.

As the boys continue to use you as their personal sex toy, Jungwon starts reading out the requests from the chat, incorporating them into the livestream.

"Someone wants to see close-ups of your stretched hole," Jungwon announces, zooming in with the camera while Sunghoon changes angles to capture every humiliating detail. "And another viewer wants to know if you can take even more..."

Jake grins mischievously and reaches for a larger attachment, rapidly swapping it with the one currently on the machine. He turns to the camera, "Let's find out, shall we?"

Your body convulses at the sudden intrusion of the larger size. The machine continues its relentless pace, stretching you further than you thought possible. The livestream chat explodes with ecstatic comments "Fuck, this is the hottest thing I've ever seen..." Heeseung said.

Your screams echo through the room as the machine reaches its maximum size, forcing your body to accommodate the impossible dimensions. Tears stream down your face as you feel your skin stretching to the breaking point.

The blue light fades, and the boys refocus the camera on you as you lie in the plush bed. The machine is now set to a more reasonable size, a sleek, black dildo slowly sliding in and out of you at a gentle pace.

The boys gather around the bed, filming from different angles as the machine slowly moves the dildo in and out of you. They've added a slight rotation to the motion, causing the dildo to twist slightly with each thrust. "This is much better." Sunoo said.

The slow rhythm is obviously having an effect on you. Your breathing becomes heavier as the carefully crafted strokes tease and please. The boys murmur encouraging words, occasionally touching your shoulders or running their fingers through your hair. Sunghoon leans down and whispers "Look how beautifully it fills you up...".

As the dildo continues to slide in and out, Jay reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small, vibrating egg. He turns it on and slowly brings it closer to your body, hovering it just above your clit. "Let's add a little extra stimulation, shall we?"

The vibrating egg hovers gently above your sensitive area, adding a new layer of pleasure to the experience. The boys watch intently as the combination of internal and external stimulation begins to have its effect on you. Your breath hitches occasionally, and small moans escape your lips.

The dildo picks up a slight pace, moving a bit faster and twisting more. The boys adjust the vibrating egg, pressing it gently against your clit. They can see your body tensing and relaxing, your hips moving slightly to meet the toy's thrusts.

As the boys continue to tease and toy with you, they can feel your arousal growing. Your juices start to flow more freely, making the vibrating egg slide easier against your clit. They increase the speed and intensity, watching as your body shakes and trembles. "Look at her, she's losing control." Jake said.

They continue to watch as you writhe in ecstasy, your moans and screams filling the room. The vibrations become almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself on the verge of an intense orgasm. "I think she needs something more." Ni-ki said.

The sudden change in intensity of the vibrator against your clit makes you gasp loudly. The dildo continues its steady rhythm, filling you completely. The combination of sensations becomes almost overwhelming - the fullness inside you, the intense buzzing outside, and the soft hum of the machine.

They can tell you're right on the edge, your muscles tensing and relaxing in quick succession. Jungwon leans in close to your ear, whispering: "Come for us, beautiful... We want to watch you fall apart."

With a final press of the remote, the boys increase the intensity of the vibrator to its maximum setting. The sudden, powerful vibrations push you over the edge. Your body convulses with pleasure, your inner walls clamping down tightly around the dildo as you experience an intense, earth-shattering orgasm.

As you ride out the waves of pleasure, the boys admire the sight of you, completely lost in passion.Sunoo reaches out to turn the remote off, but hesitates. "Look at her, she's still twitching..."

They slowly reduce the intensity of the vibrator, allowing you to come down from your high. Your body shivers one last time as they carefully remove the toys, replacing them with gentle touches. The room falls quiet, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. "That was... incredible." you said.

One of them grabs a soft blanket to wrap around you, cradling you against them as you catch your breath. They all share knowing smiles, thoroughly pleased with your reaction "Rest now, sweet thing. We'll keep you warm."

As you drift off to sleep, nestled between their warm bodies, the boys exchange satisfied glances. They know they've just had an experience they won't soon forget. And with you in their arms, they can already think of a few more 'games' to play in the future.

They continue to gently stroke your hair as your breathing deepens, their eyes meeting in a mutual understanding. The dim lighting of the room casts soft shadows, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Sunghoon leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead "Dream sweetly, love."

---

[rieamena]

operation dasher ꩜

doordasher!takuma and cosplayer!reader

word count: 1.1k

riea's comments: i might make this something long running with spontaneous additions so we don't get another full throttle (sorry about that one....)

you order in one evening because all the leftovers were done due to an impromptu visit from your nephews and nieces and with so much to do, you simply didn't feel like cooking anything (or had the time to). you had to finish your makeup, put on the costume, record and edit a video, and the list goes on and on. so yeah, no way you're cooking. yes, your heart did shatter a bit seeing the price but cravings were cravings and cravings need to be satisfied! 

with haste, you started on your to-do list and just when you were finished putting on your outfit, a notification pinged on your phone and the doorbell rang. speed walking to the door, you yelled out a coming! before they could ring it again. unlocking the door, you greeted your dasher. it was a guy who looked about your age, maybe a little older, so you guessed 22 or so, with brown hair peeking out of his black beanie that went with his all black outfit. you two stared at each other for a while, making you wonder what was wrong. until you remembered what part of the to-do list you were on just before you came to the door. 

"oh! s-sorry!" you scrambled to cover yourself with something anything, but to no avail. not even a blanket was near enough. he chuckled, looking you up and down before speaking,

"saiki, right? the character you're dressed up as?" the man in all black handed you the bag after taking a picture of it

"oh, yeah, haha..." you forcibly laughed, embarrassed due to your appearance at the moment (and the fact that your dasher was so...... let's not finish that thought.)

"cool! my little sister cosplays too. for the last con we went to, she cosplayed as sakura kinomoto and she made me sakura's older brother, toya."

you physically felt the air get lighter with his confession, "aww thats cute. does she have any socials where i can see?"

not missing a beat, he navigates to his sister's tiktok account and flips the screen to face you. typing the username in, you found her account and was shocked at how intricate her outfits were

"does she... make this all herself?" you asked, gasping with every scroll

the man wore a proud smile as he recalls the dedication of his sister. "yeah, she spends weeks, usually months, planning and making every little thing for her cosplays. it's tiring but she loves it!"

"my god... this is insane..." it was impossible to think twice when hitting the follow button. she was amazing, like simply incredible

"maybe you'll get to see one of her cosplays in person soon," he smiled, adding a second later,

"and maybe i'll get to see you again."

with that, he winked and jogged back to his car, driving away within seconds, leaving you frozen at your front door

"yeah... maybe."

you stood at the door, still holding the takeout bag in one hand, heart pounding in your chest. what was that? what the hell was that??!?! the thought replayed over and over again in your head as you slowly closed the door behind you. his wink had been so casual, like he did it all the time, but the way it affected you was anything but. not that it affected you though. cause it definitely didn't. like no, there wasn't a flutter in your heart when his eyes glistened and twinkled under the glow of the setting sun. no, you didn't feel anything throb or your knees buckle when you felt his eyes drag across your frame. no, you didn't— just no!

you leaned against the door for a moment, replaying the brief interaction in your head. his sister's cosplays, his smile as he talked about her, and the way he knew who you were cosplaying as without hesitation. it wasn't every day someone recognized saiki on the spot, let alone complimented your look without a hint of awkwardness. and, well, the guy was cute. very cute. society would say he's conventionally attractive but to you… there's just something else about him that makes you wanna— woah. that's too much to get into right now

after a few more moments of contemplation, you finally peeled yourself away from the door and made your way to the kitchen. the takeout container was warm in your hands, a comfort you didn't know you needed after the hectic day you'd had. setting it down on the counter, you opened the bag to reveal your meal, taking in the scent with a content sigh. maybe tonight wasn't so bad after all

as you plated your food and prepared to settle in for the night, your phone buzzed. you picked it up, expecting another reminder about your to-do list, but instead saw a notification from tiktok: [inodaisies] followed you back

your lips curled into a smile. it was his sister. she'd followed you almost immediately. not only that, but there was a new comment under one of her cosplay posts: "hope you two meet at the next con! :)"

you blinked. had he gone and told his sister about you already? the thought made your stomach flip, and not in a bad way. you scrolled through a few more of her videos, impressed yet again by her level of craftsmanship. the girl was seriously talented

and then another thought hit you

maybe you would run into him again. the con scene was big, but it wasn't that big. it was entirely possible your paths could cross if you kept attending. and judging by the way he'd spoken to you, he probably wouldn't mind seeing you either

"get it together," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head with a self-deprecating smile. you weren't the type to get swept up in a random interaction like this, but tonight had definitely thrown you for a loop, and damn you didn't mind it at all. dare i say, you even enjoyed it. oh, you definitely enjoyed it

you unlocked your phone to send a text to your friends. you told them about everything, a small interaction like this could blow up into full scale delusion, and god you needed that right now

my dasher is so hot

—

the girl who i just dashed to was so pretty

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @babysoo-meu

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@mayyhaps @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly @ozdramaqueen @nymphsdomain @beeksyurr @colorcode

@baekhyunsbestie @vorfreudevortex @leuriss @xaithings @corvid007

[epiphanytofu]

Fankids are still a thing, right? Whatever, go my scarab. Introducing my two fankids for an incredibly RARE rarepair that I've been keeping hidden for over 2 months now, Jangle and Chime. Twins who are complete opposites, but stick together as if they were glued to the hip.

Jangle is the more eccentric, hyperactive, silly, and chaotic half of the duo, always up and about, everywhere at once and speeding around like his life depends on it. There's rarely a moment where this one isn't doing something fun or getting into mischief as he makes it a point to search for the next adventure, regardless of the time or place. He has a love for performing, talented in many forms of entertainment and will gladly put on a show when asked to. Despite his childish nature, he is intelligent in his own ways, showing a deep interest in literature, philosophy, and morals, despite his young age. Furthermore, he has quite the eye for spotting lies and truths and he's not afraid to shout out what he sees. Funny enough, he is not a very good liar himself; he's quite blunt, but never wishes ill on anyone... unless they insult or upset his family. Perhaps Jangle takes his role as a jester very, VERY seriously. Chime is the quiet, emotional, timid, and insecure half of the duo, always preferring to stand back and let others take the spotlight and attention. Whereas Jangle is always found running about, never sticking to one spot, Chime would rather stay in her comfort zone, keeping to herself in a limited number of areas to minimize the amount of social interaction as much as possible. She finds more comfort in solitude and quiet, always becoming distressed if too much noise is made, too many people are present... or there's a minor inconvenience that just happened. It's very easy to upset her. Much like her brother, she is quite smart for her age, except her specialty lies with mathematics and anything involving numbers, which allows her to excel with machines, mechanics, and tinkering. She tends to do so often, finding it to be a special interest of sorts. Though, it's not all she does; Chime DOES have a particular interest in music as well. Perhaps one day she can finally make music that's just as pretty as her brother's. Moving onto some gameplay aspects; there is the topic of both twin's abilities, starting with Jangle's.

As it can be read here, Jangle's ability can stun Twisteds using the jester doll named Jack in his head, who has a separate conscious. His active is different from other toons' abilities, as instead of an instantaneous use, the ability can be charged up, which causes Jangle to start winding up to get ready to use his ability, which requires the ability button to be held down long enough. Thankfully, in moments of danger, he gradually speeds up the longer the icon is held. This can be particularly useful for distracting or escaping; You can release the button at any time before the ability goes off to save it.

For Chime, hers is also different from some toons' passive abilities. Using Bobette as an example, Bobette has a specific radius around her that toons can enter for stamina regeneration. However, with Chime, she doesn't have a radius. Instead, it relies solely on how areas of a map are divided into parts for her ability. Once she enters a room or a large area that counts as one space altogether, all toons within that area receive her extraction boost. though once she leaves, it will instantly wear off. She'd be useful when several machines are in the same area, offering support to all who extract on the nearby machines. Lastly, here are their trinkets!

I have. A LOT MORE. To talk about with them, since they're decently developed. But this post is already a smidge long as is and I'm tired, so I'll probably save it for another time. In the meantime, take these doodles of them as filler. (And you get to see the concepts for their Twisteds.) [ Edit: Btw if you got any questions, feel free to ask. I forgot to mention that originally, I was too tired. ]

[glitterquadricorn]

letter to me - Niall Horan

+summary: On the day of her wedding, reflects on her life via a letter to herself. +pairing: Niall Horan x f1!driver +warnings: mentions having a breakdown, mentions sexism, mentions misogyny, curse words, mentions bullying, mentions the FIA, poorly edited, etc. I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

She glanced around the room, observing the guests before standing up and tapping on the microphone to get everyone's attention. Niall, who was sitting next to her, raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Hello everyone! I hope everybody is having a lovely evening so far. Dinner will be served momentarily, but until then, I decided to do a little speech of my own," she paused. "One night sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by wedding stuff, I found myself getting overwhelmed to the point where I had a breakdown. But while I was having my breakdown, I had my country playlist from Spotify playing in the background. The song Letter to Me by Brad Paisley came on and I thought, 'writing a letter to my past self sounds like a pretty good idea.' I'm happy to read that letter for all of you right now."

Their wedding planner handed her a white envelope containing the letter. Opening it, she cleared her throat and began to read.

"If I could write a letter to me, and send it back to myself at sixteen first, I'd prove it's me by saying go over to your closet, and on the top shelf all the way in the back is an orange shoe box. In this shoe box is a dedicated shrine of your first crush, your one true love, Jenson Button," she grinned as said man's laughter loudly echoed throughout the room, which in turn made everyone else laugh. "And I really hate to break it to you, but he's happily married to a beautiful woman who is out of his league."

"And then I'd say I know it's tough to see all the other guys on the grid get opportunities to further their careers while you stand still, stuck in the same place not really going anywhere. At one point you even ask yourself if racing is really worth it because of the limited opportunities and all the sexism and misogyny. But future me is here to tell you don't give up and don't quit because there's a man who would've loved to have been here today and who sadly isn't with us anymore. He clearly saw potential in you that others didn't and without that man, you wouldn't have met Toto Wolff and if it wasn't for Toto, you wouldn't have been a part of the Mercedes drivers' program. Sadly, you don't get a seat at Mercedes, but you will get a seat at Porsche, who are making a serious name for themselves and pose a real threat to the championship standings."

Y/n sniffled, thinking about Niki and all the good things he's done for her. Feeling Niall's hand on her arm, she continued.

"The stop sign that's two blocks down from your childhood home? Don't run it. There's a huge pothole in the middle of the intersection and since you were speeding, you hit just right to not only flatten the tire but bend the rim of said tire. You manage to drive it back home safely, park it in the garage, sneak into the house and up to your room with no one noticing you were gone because you weren't supposed to be out at eleven o'clock at night. Unfortunately for y/b/n, he ended up taking the fall cause to our parents' knowledge, he was the last one to drive the car."

At the table next to hers, her brother yelled, "I told you it wasn't me!"

"I apologize for that, and I will pay you the money it took to get it fixed now that you know it was me," she laughed.

"You'll be bullied for your love of cars and all things racing. You'll be told by teachers, peers, and some of your own family members those sorts of things are only for boys and as a girl, you should aim for something more realistic like a nurse, or a teacher. Which there is nothing wrong with that, but as Grandma Agnes once said, "Aim for the fucking moon and If that makes people mad, then so be it."

"Speaking of people who feel you shouldn't be racing, there's this association called the FIA. While they do not openly admit to it, the FIA will hate you and it's only because any chance you get, rather it be on social media or in person, you'll call them out for their bullshit. But you'll prefer to do it in person because nothing will make you happier than seeing a bunch of crusty, crunchy, salty, bitter old men get red in the race with anger."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, bracing herself for the end of the letter to herself. "The journey to formula one will be one of the hardest things you'll ever do in your life, but you'll be rewarded with new friendships and experiences that'll last a lifetime. So, I'll end by saying you may never ever win a formula one championship, and that's okay. You will however inspire the next generation of girls to pursue their dreams in motor sports and that will always be more gratifying than winning a title."

"Oh! And PS, make sure you remind your husband, who is a pasty white Irish man who burns brighter than Ferrari, to put on sunscreen with a spf of 75 or higher because you don't repeat of Mykonos 2021."

Niall, being the only one who knew what happened in Mykonos 2021, laughed while getting up from his chair, bringing her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. After she read the letter, dinner was served and not too long after that, the bride and groom had their first dance. And as they twirled around on the wooden dance floor, they looked into each other's eyes, seeing their entire future ahead of them and they couldn't wait for what was in store.

---

I've had this in my drafts for a hot minute.

Happy Birthday to me! :) 🎉🎂🥳🎁

tagging:

@patzammit @mrspeacem1nusone @alexxavicry @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119 @green-thots @2pagenumb @myescapefromthislife @ironmaiden1313 @lottalove4evelyn @mynameisangeloflife @newlifeforus @jxnellat @loloekie @c-losur3 @czennieszn @d3kstar @reiofsuns2001 @sweate-r-weathe-r @itsjustkhaos @hiireadstuff @wcnorris

[r3dcam3llias]

How to Download Our Life: Beginnings and Always Mods

(a step-by-step guide!)

If you've ever wanted to download extra content for OLBA but were unsure how or where to even start, this post will hopefully explain everything you need to know!

What you will need:

Our Life: Beginnings and Always

RPA extractor

Latest version of Python

RPA repack tool

1. Finding mods.

As far as I'm aware, there are very few people who make OLBA mods, but if you do happen to come across someone who makes mods/script edits and would like to download them, you'll likely end up with files with the end extension ".rpy" or ".rpyc" Because the software used to make OLBA is Ren'py, these are ren'py script files that basically contain the script that runs the mod and official script files. (Note: Some mods that don't just simply add onto/edit/add more scenes may also include other important resource files (images, sounds etc...) and might be formatted in a ".zip" file. I'll cover how to unzip and use those as well.)

2. Find your game files.

First of all, before you do anything with your .zip or .rpy/.rpyc file(s) you're going to need to find your copy of your OLBA game's files. For Steam, you should be able to open the Steam app on your computer, navigate to your library, right-click your copy of OLBA, select "properties", navigate to the "Installed Files" tab, and click the "Browse" button.

For a direct download of the game such as from Itch.io, you should just be able to navigate to wherever you downloaded your game and find the same results. You should see your game files now like the picture below.

3. Finding/extracting the RPA file.

Now, you are going to want to navigate to the "game" folder inside the OLBA folder. Here you should find these files:

(Note: depending on whether you have the DLC or not, you may or may not have the DLC files. I do not have the Baxter or Derek DLC so I don't have those files here.) These files are basically all the .rpy/rpyc files, along with images, sounds and all other resources for the game, compressed into single files. So, in order to add our modded files, we will need to extract whichever RPA file pertains to the mod. For example, archive.rpa contains all the scripts, etc from the main game. The rest should just be DLC, so if you have a mod that only affects the main game, you will only need to extract that file. The same works if it is a mod that only affects a DLC; you will only need to extract that respective DLC file.

To do this, you can either download this RPA extractor or find your own and follow its steps. For this tutorial, we will be following the steps of the RPA extractor provided. Once you have downloaded the RPA extractor, drag the .RPA file you want to extract out of the OLBA folder, into a new folder, then drag and drop it onto the RPA extractor icon (shown below)

This should open a new Command window where the .rpa file will be extracted. You should end with something like this:

(for this example I extracted the step 3 DLC RPA file)

Now you should have a new folder containing all the .rpy and resource files you need.

4. What to do with modded .rpy/.rpyc and/or .zip files?

If the mod you downloaded just came with the files not zipped, you can skip this first part. Otherwise, you will need to unzip this zipped folder. To do this, you can either just right-click the zipped file and click "Extract All" and "Extract" when a new window pops up.

Alternatively, you can use a program such as 7-zip, which may help extract speeds for large files. Now, you should have, or already have your modded .rpa files on hand (finally!) Normally, if these files are editing preexisting material from the game or adding new scenes, at least one file, if not all of them will have the SAME EXACT file name as an already existing file. In this case, BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHING go into the folder(s) you got earlier by extracting the .rpa file(s) and look for the file(s) with the same name(s) as your modded .rpy/.rpyc file(s) and either make a copy or move them somewhere safe in case something is wrong with your modded files/you no longer want the modded files, you can put the original files back in. Once you have done this, you are going to drag the modded files directly into the folder(s) you got earlier by extracting the .rpa file(s). MAKE SURE YOU PUT THEM IN THE CORRECT FOLDERS AND EITHER OVERWRITE THE ORIGINAL FILES OR MAKE SURE THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED.

If there are any other files, such as sounds or images or .rpy/rpyc files, feel free to just make another folder to put these in.

5. Repacking the RPA file.

Now these next steps can get really complicated, so I'll break them down into smaller steps. 1.) Download the RPA repack tool (make sure to unzip it) and the latest version of Python if you haven't already.

2.) Inside the unzipped "rpa-master" folder you'll find another folder of the same name. Inside this folder all you need is the "rpatool" file. Take this file and move it into a new folder completely outside of the "rpa-master" folder, name this folder whatever you want, it doesn't matter. (EXAMPLE BELOW)

3.) Now take the folder(s) you got from extracting the .rpa file earlier or created and put them in this new folder. (EXAMPLE BELOW)

4.) Type "cmd" into the path while in the folder with both of these.

5.) Now, a command prompt window should pop up, type in this:

 py rpatool -c

followed by the name of the .rpa file you want to make and the name of the folder(s) you are repacking separated by a space for each. (EXAMPLE BELOW)

6.) Depending on the size of your file it might take some time, but once you see the .rpa file appear in the folder, you're all done! It should look something like this:

Now, all that's left to do is put that .rpa file into the game folder with the rest of the .rpa files !! After that you can test it out and your mods should now work!

As always if you have any questions or need help doing this yourself, feel free to contact me or submit an ask!

[19thperson]

19th's Steam Next Fest Impressions Feb 2025 Edition - Day 4

Day 0/Day 1/Day 2/Day 3

Rusty Rabbit

If I had a nickel for every game I've played this next fest featuring cute characters and whose protagonist is voiced by Takaya Kuroda, voice of Kiryu Kazama, I'd have two nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird it happened twice.

It's a Metroidvania about evolved rabbits digging through the ruins of humanity after the apocalypse.

Written by Gen Urobuchi. I'm liking the premise and tone, and enjoy the running gag of "no one in the rival group The BB's can agree on what their name actually stands for." But aside from that there's not much "hook" to the plot yet.

Your starting mech has a nice balance between being agile and feeling appropriately "stiff," since it's a homebrew pile of junk. Nothing gets in the way but it feels right.

The game has an experience system, where both fighting enemies and digging through rubble blocks gives XP. Worried the latter might encourage drudgery, but it's not there yet.

The combat was kinda boring, but they barely threw any enemies at you anyways. I'm hoping getting actual upgrades and actual combat will make it interesting.

There's supposedly going to be a crafting system but the demo stops before you can touch it.

Mashina

One game about digging deserves another.

compared to Rusty Rabbit, this game's idea of digging is a lot more freeform. Fly about on a 2d plane and drill through rock. Get minerals for items and, assumedly, upgrades. A conveyor belt building system suggests there will be a layer of automation. But the demo didn't really fully explore that.

The demo was very barebones in general. It seems mostly there to show off Jack King Spooner's trademark visual style: Mixed media, assets created by molding real clay and other items, cutscenes shot on a real camera, faces on the characters drawn with marker. From what I've seen this is always been his forte, but it feels like a step up from his previous game, Judero.

No idea how plotty it's going to be compared to Judero. There were a lot of characters, but trying to talk to most of them got an abrupt "NOT AVAILABLE IN DEMO."

The Electrifying Incident: A Monster Mini-Expedition

A Monster's Expedition was a puzzle game that was both incredibly relaxing and incredibly in depth. I'm glad the devs are going back to this particular well.

A Monster's Expedition was about pushing and rolling trees by hand, sokoban style. This game is about picking up and placing boxes using a grappling hook, putting them on buttons to turn off electrical grids, create bridges, or open doors.

There are some strong limitations, as expected for a puzzle game. For one, once you grab a box, the grappling hook functions like holding it at the end of a stick. Considering the large amount of bottomless pit in the map, this can make getting the box to solid ground a problem. Not only can your character not step on electrified ground, but if a box they're grabbing touching electrified ground, the shock will carry over. Not only can your character not step on electrified ground, but if a box they're grabbing touching electrified ground, the shock will carry over.

The demo was painfully short, and cut off abruptly, but it's already surprised me with a couple of its mechanics. I'll be keeping an eye on this.

The Path of Ren

Celeste-like precision platformer. The two main differences are 1) While there's wall and ceiling climbing, there's no stamina system limiting it. 2) the dash is not the central mechanical pillar like it was in Celeste. It's one of many very limited power ups.

The other power-up the demo offers is, for lack of a better word, "ghost mode." For a short period of time, your speed and jump height double, and transparent platforms become visible. Useful for when you need to do a long distance obstacle course quickly, but gets in the way when you want to do precision jumping in closed areas.

The game also plays more with enemies, or at least "obstacles with player-reactive behavior" The earliest is a spider that drops from above when you go under it, but it leaves a web you can climb. There are also grasping hand obstacles that do some light tracking, forcing you to give them a wider berth than expected.

While its pixel art and music can't fully match Celeste's quality, I do like the zen atmosphere they're going for.

Grimshire

If I'm going to follow themes today, might as well throw another bunny game in the mix while I'm at it.

Thinking about it, it's kind of odd that "farming" became synonymous with "cozy." I mean I get why, it's a good mechanical backdrop for daily routines, and there's a lot of idyllic pastoral imagery surrounding it but… aside from the labor aspect, farming can be pretty precarious.

That's the sort of scenario this game is exploring. It takes Stardew Valley and adds more pressure.

Your character arrives in the hamlet of Grimshire after being saved by a merchant ship, after the unnamed capital went in flames. You've given some abandoned farmland as is the norm in this type of game, but soon learn that the capital event is tied to a plague outbreak. With the majority of trade gone… your farm is the town's main source of food.

While there is individual buying and selling, the majority of your crops will be heading to a communal cellar. While I didn't test this, since I only played for a few in-game days… if you don't keep up, villagers will start dying. The woodland creature characters isn't just an aesthetic choice. It's a community of herbivores and carnivores, and you need to keep both fed.

There's also a voting system where the townsfolk will decide on emergency measures. While the first one is simply "do we build an herb garden or mushroom garden to try and keep up the medicine supply" I can imagine this will be used for dramatic effect later.

This isn't to say that the game is constantly bearing down on you aesthetically, or abandons any connection to the "cozy" games before it. Both the visuals and audio have a sort of soothing aspect to them, and there's still a sense of getting lost in the momentary tranquility. But the tally at the end of the day telling you exactly how many days of food are left in the communal cellar kind of snaps you out of it.

The game is in pre-alpha so a lot is up in the air of how the final product will look and play but this is a cool seeming twist on the formula.

I really need to dip further into Stardew so I can better experience the formula straight, though.

Hypogea

If I had a nickel for every time I've seen an indie game platformer about a decrepid robot exploring an impossibly large superstructure, I would have two nickels, (the other being Lorn's Lure.) It's not a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

Also if I had a nickel for every time I got to say the "it's weird that it happened twice" joke today I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice twice.

The main gimmick is your staff. Your character doesn't exactly have spring loaded heels, so you need to use it to boost yourself, pole vaulting and grasping distant ledges and hooks to swing from. These small hiccups add a nice sense of friction and momentum to what otherwise would just be "press a to jump."

There's only two "characters," your robot and another, one armed one that recussitated you. There's no dialogue, everything is expressed via body language. This makes me think it'll either be story lite, or try for abstractly heart wrenching a-la Team Ico's ouvre.

You do get to see some memories from now deactivated robots, showing there used to be humans in whatever superstructure this is, as well as some artefacts that give some very vague clues at what's happening.

I do worry the environments will get samey if it's all going to be blue-grey cavernous industrial stuff. Hopefully the final release will expand on the visual palette.

Kejora

I see time loop game, I click. I then get disappointed.

Kejora is an Indonesian puzzle adventure game about the titular girl realizing her village is stuck in a time loop and also there are monsters hiding around. Also her mom is sick and her dad is dead which will probably be used for a good heartstring tug.

The art direction is for the most part good, and while the effort is unevently distributed, there's proof that they CAN animate here. It's just that the areas that are stiffer are the moment to moment game interactions. The stuff you see most often.

the puzzles are either standard adventure game "bring object A to area B" or "summon one of your friends to use one of their abilities." Those latter ones especially felt... kind of like busywork. Especially since your friends just teleport to you when you call them. No reason to consider their positioning when setting up the puzzle.

The translation is… ass. Weird wording, constantly shifting tenses, everyone has a robotic tone. And yet I can't blame the entirety of the writing on the translation, because the game has an exposition problem. Everyone is constantly restating things and saying the obvious.

Anyways I looked at the Dev's youtube and apparently this used to be a Metal Slug-like???

Nitro Express

Since I already got Metal Slug on the mind might as well try this.

A run and gun where you're a gun freak girlfailure who has been hired to be part of the special taskform for when companions, multipurpose autonomous vehicles, go rouge. in other words, shoot robbit.

The pixel art is gorgeous. There is a slight problem of the screen feeling a bit busy though, Kinda wish they pulled a CAVE and did purple bullets.

The combat overall feels good. The dodge roll feels nice, and it's not a free get out of jail free card, since you can only roll forward. You get your I-Frames in exchange for staring right down the enemy's barrel.

The gunplay feels nice. I kinda wish there wasn't a reload system though, even if it happens automatically. I'm already dealing with positioning and aiming, I don't want to have to track my mag at the same time.

My other complaint is that if you cause a car to explode right in front of your face you take damage. Which. makes sense. But I'm still mentally going off Metal Slug rules.

Lastly, I like that the health pickups are you shooting down a food delivery drone and stealing someone's meal.

Worth checking out.

[voxofthevoid]

Mundane Unclekuna Wednesday #2 ✨

I'm 25k and 4+ chapters into the fic, and it's been...a fun adventure. The PoV structure is Yuuji - Gojou - Sukuna - Sukuna - Gojou - Yuuji for the main six chapters, with a Megumi PoV chapter to conclude the story.

And Chapters 3 and 4, the Sukuna PoV chapters, come to a total of 12.4k. This is the first time I'm tackling his PoV. I thought writing Grimmjow PoV (which is one of the most fun character voices I've ever written) for Bleach would give me some guidance; it did and it didn't. There are similarities, but Sukuna is a very different flavor overall.

Something I realized a few passages in is that I just...could not write Yuuji's name in Sukuna's interior monologue. It wasn't happening. Despite the modern context, the fucker just would not acknowledge Yuuji by name. So we have over 12k of "brat" and "boy" and assorted insults. Won't lie, I enjoyed it, though I'll have a time polishing the phrasing during edits. Contextually apt, relevant epithet usage is always a fun challenge.

Click through for some uncle-nephew incest: Sukuna is his own warning, but Yuuji matches him well enough.

“Strip.”

The brat freezes. “What?”

“I said,” Sukuna enunciates slowly, “strip.”

“But—why?”

“I want to see your damage. If some two-bit sons of a whore fucked you up any, there will be hell to pay, brat.”

“They didn’t,” the kid snaps, eyes all fire. “I told you, they only got Fushiguro, and even that was—”

“I do not care,” Sukuna cuts in, “about Fushiguro Megumi.”

“I do.” It’s a snarl, the mouth matching the eyes. “He’s my friend, and he got caught up in that shit because of me.”

“Did I ask?” Sukuna’s on the kid before he can speak again, grabbing his collar and throwing him to the center of the room. He doesn’t stumble, turning around midway and controlling his momentum so he doesn’t so sprawling on the mat. “Now take off your fucking clothes before I rip them off you. And don’t let your twisted little head fool you, brat—you won’t enjoy it.”

Furious red streaks the brat’s cheek—anger or arousal, even Sukuna can’t tell.

Both, knowing this freak.

“How much?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow.

The brat raises bold hands to his collar, undoing the top two buttons of his jacket with quick, flicking motions. “How much do you want to see? The top? All of it?”

Despite everything, including all the nights this same boy lied his way into Sukuna’s bed just to molest him in his pretend-sleep, Sukuna finds himself surprised.

“I’ve found dirt-cheap whores with more shame than you,” he says, marveling.

The brat just holds his head higher. “Says more about you than them.”

“You little—”

The rest of the jacket is unbuttoned with startling speed. The brat shrugs it off unceremoniously. By the time it hits the floor, he’s already halfway done with the thin white shirt underneath.

It’s almost like he’s eager to get naked.

The shirt joins the jacket on the floor.

Topless, the brat raises his head, meeting Sukuna’s eyes with a challenge splattered all over his face.

Never had the sense god gave a worm, this one.

Sukuna steps closer—and closer and closer.

The brat doesn’t waver, eyes to toes.

Sukuna drops his gaze to the sweat-slick column of a neck and further down, sneering at the hard curves of muscle. The brat had thinned out a little after that growth spurt last year, like fat and muscle just couldn’t keep up with changing body they clung to, but that didn’t last long. The brat filled right back out, bulging out from biceps to thighs. The uniform shows it better than his casual clothes, straining against shoulders and arms and legs like seams will rip and buttons will pop any moment.

It’s a powerful body—Sukuna’s body, in every way that counts. This boy would never have become what he is today if not for Sukuna.

The brat wasn’t lying, at least. There’s not a mark on him, not even a bruise.

Sukuna’s thorough with the check, circling around the brat once, twice, then again and again, and the little shit relaxes into parade rest, playing at nonchalance, as if Sukuna can’t see his breath quickening and skin dewing.

He comes to a stop directly behind the brat, close enough that he can feel the warmth of his body—a half-phantom haze in the air.

“I should make you take off the rest too,” Sukuna murmurs, watching those shoulders tense up in response. “But you’d enjoy it too much, wouldn’t you?”

The brat’s clasped hands grow tight around each other, those bruised knuckles spotting blood.

But his voice is steady when he says, “Don’t pin this on me. You’re the pervert here.”

Oh, the fucking audacity.

“I’ll tell you a secret, brat,” Sukuna tells him, grinning till his lips sting at how every inch of the brat grows stiff. “You truly are your mother’s child.”

The deflation is almost as amusing as that taut-wire tension.

“That’s not the insult you think it is. I like Mum fine.”

“I wonder about that.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Turn around.”

The brat practically whips around, taking a step closer till he’s glaring up at Sukuna from less than a foot away.

Sukuna meets his eyes, and the brat doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink.

Some fools never learn.

“Are you going to ask?”

Sukuna blinks, trying and failing to make sense of the question. “Ask what? Whether you were dropped on your head as a kid? I already know.”

“Funny,” comes the flat response. “The fight—why I did it, why they started it.”

“Am I supposed to care?”

“Yes.”

Sukuna snorts in spite of himself. “Alright, let’s hear it. Might as well know what I’m wasting my time for.”

“I was talking to Fushiguro.”

“That all it takes to stir up you kids these days? Things must be goddamn boring there.”

The brat growls. “Just listen.”

“Get to the point then.”

“I was talking to Fushiguro,” the brat repeats pointedly, the sheer intensity of it all not matching his words—not yet. “I was telling him something. Something I realized recently. Those guys overheard—and didn’t like what they heard. I wasn’t planning on a fight, but the shit they said…” The kid shrugs, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t regret it.”

“Good for you,” Sukuna drawls. “This is still the most boring fucking—”

“I like men,” the brat cuts in. “I was telling Fushiguro about my type of guy. That’s what pissed off those assholes.”

Sukuna’s mind blanks for a moment, before whirling to life with a vengeance.

Something I realized recently, the brat said. But there’s no way in hell even this idiot would’ve been so oblivious. Yeah, he fucking likes men. He’s been eye-fucking Sukuna since puberty, and the last year or so, he’s also been trying his perverted best to turn that into reality.

“I must’ve kicked you in the head one too many times,” he says, clicking his tongue and grinning when the brat’s expression twists up. “Congratulations, you fucking idiot. You finally figured out what everyone and their mother—yours included—knew since before you knew what to do with your dick.”

“Oh, shut up—”

“So, what, were you talking about opening up one of those kids? Singing loving odes to his shit-crusted backside? Word of advice, brat, if you’re perving on people where they can hear, be ready to commit, one way or the other.” Sukuna glances down at one of the brat’s bloodied knuckles. “And this way tends to get you arrested.”

The brat’s gaping at him.

“What kind of a creep do you think I am?” he asks with all the self-awareness of a piece of rock. “Of course I wasn’t doing that! I didn’t even know them. And you know damn well why they picked a fight.”

He does. Sukuna’s broken his fair share of bastards who couldn’t keep their mouths shut about who and how he fucked. And the world’s changed but not that much.

He’s not worried for the kid. He never will be. Either he’ll survive or he won’t, and if he gives the world more reasons to hate him, he better be ready to chew up every resulting misery till it shows its belly.

“Enlighten me then,” Sukuna says despite his better judgement, “on your type.”

The brat freezes—only for a moment, but it’s telling enough. The air between them thickens.

Blood in the water.

“You shy now?” Sukuna asks softly. “Come on, brat, spill. It better have been something else to get those shitstains so worked up.”

The brat’s jaw sets. “Big, tall men with a good ass.”

Sukuna blinks, somehow caught off guard by the sheer, shameless bluntness.  

“Helps if they’re older,” the brat continues, a corner of his mouth curling meanly—an expression Sukuna recognizes from the goddamn mirror. “But I’m not sure about that yet. Girls are easier. I like how they’re soft and warm everywhere. Guys… I guess they can be soft and cute too. Like Fushiguro. He’s pretty. And I guess it’d be easier if he’s the sort I wanted. And I wouldn’t mind, I think, but he doesn’t make my brain light up like that. Don’t look at me like that—I didn’t tell him this part. He’s my friend.”

Whatever the expression on Sukuna’s face, it’s not judging what the brat thinks he’s judging.

“Your friend,” Sukuna echoes, hearing his voice with a hollow, ringing echo that trembles down every one of his veins, “but not your type—unlike that teacher of yours, the Gojou brat.”

There’s a minute flinch, mostly there in the mouth. “Gojou-sensei is way too old for you to call him a brat.”

“And that’s just how you like ‘em, isn’t it?” Sukuna watches his hand move, curling around a throat that moves under it with a harsh swallow. The brat’s eyes are wider, wilder. “That man will eat you alive, you stupid fucking child.”

The brat curls his hand around Sukuna’s wrist, the pressure of it blisteringly familiar.

“As if you won’t,” he says quietly.

Sukuna tightens his grip. “Speak up, brat. Show some balls for once in your pathetic life.”

The boy snarls, surging like a storm.

Sukuna thinks it’s a punch at first, the force and fury of it like nothing else, and then teeth cut into his lip, drawing blood, and he realizes it’s meant to be a kiss. The brat’s throat is pulled taut, the bulge there digging into Sukuna’s palm as it works around air and spit and swallowed sense. The mouth is a mess, more teeth than lips. He’s kissing Sukuna like he wants to bite off his jaw, the heat of it like nothing else.

Sukuna hasn’t frozen for anything in well over a decade, but now, he does, if only for a moment.

He makes the brat pay for it.

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 6

Had some time this evening to work on another Jilytober fic! (Edit: Oops, forgot to tag! @jilytoberfest ). Hoping to go back and catch up on the days I missed, but in the meantime, here's my try at today's prompt:

October 6th: Making food together / food disasters

Clearly, something had gone wrong.

James furrowed his brow, staring at the chunks of apple and squash that he'd painstakingly peeled and cubed — by hand! — before dumping them into the tall Muggle goblet. Maybe he'd made a mistake with the plugs?

Around him, the kitchen hummed with the soft crooning of a record player and the clinking of pots and pans. The aroma of thyme, sage and cinnamon filled the air, suffusing the space with the unmistakable scents of Christmas Eve.

Lily and her mother were chatting about a neighbor's upcoming baby shower, occasionally pausing to check a recipe book or put a dish into the oven. James glanced over to make sure that neither of them had yet noticed his mistake, then turned back to the eclectic goblet on the countertop.

He double-checked the plug. It sat in the wall, exactly as Lily had shown him. He looked once more at the switch on the back of the device. It was pointed toward the word "On."

Wasn't something supposed to be happening?

James yanked the plug out of the wall and flicked the "On/Off" switch again. No change. He removed the tight-fitting lid from atop the goblet and peered inside, trying to see if anything stirred. He could see the circle of blades at the bottom, but they didn't move.

There was nothing else for it.

"Um, excuse me. Mrs. Evans?"

"What is it, dear?" asked Lily's mother, looking up from where she had begun to measure out a cup of sugar.

James thought back to his fifth year Muggle Studies vocabulary exams, trying to remember the proper phrasing. "I think that your power might be out," he said.

Lily looked up, and she and her mother exchanged a glance, confused. James cringed internally at the awkward moment. He must have gotten it wrong. "I mean, I think there's something wrong with your eckletricity," he corrected hastily. He gestured at the goblet. "It isn't working."

Mrs. Evans still looked wrongfooted, but Lily smirked. "Having trouble with the blender?"

Even as embarrassed as he felt, James couldn't help but return her smile. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied.

"Did you plug it in?"

"Yes."

"Did you turn it on?"

"Yes!"

"Did you hit the button?"

James paused. "The button?"

"In the front." Lily giggled as James turned back to the device, examining the raised knobs on the base. He always forgot about Muggle buttons, which looked nothing at all like normal buttons, the sort one might use to fasten a cloak. "You have to press the button to make it start, James."

"Right," said James. He looked over at Mrs. Evans and ran a hand through his hair, trying to project confidence. "I know about buttons," he told her. "We covered them in school, I just forgot. I'll get it started now—"

"No, wait! The lid—"

But before James could react to Lily's warning, he had already pressed the fateful button that began the eclectic spell. With a horribly loud whirring sound, the blades at the bottom of the machine came to life, turning with a speed that made the goblet shake. In moments, it had sent chunks of apple and squash soaring through the kitchen — and splashed the chicken stock directly into James's face.

Without thinking, James grabbed his wand from his pocket and cast a Body-Bind curse on the machine. He'd mostly done this on impulse — he hadn't been at all certain that it would work — but the machine froze, salvaging most of the ingredients inside. He flicked the switch to "Off," then removed the curse.

James turned sheepishly back toward Mrs. Evans, who looked as if she were caught between amusement and disbelief. After a moment, amusement won out, and she laughed warmly before handing James a towel from a drawer.

"That's alright, James, dear," she said. "Why don't I take over the soup for now, and you stir up the batter for the pudding?" James nodded, switching places with Mrs. Evans to join Lily at the table. He wiped the stock from his face. "Can you double-check the roast, love?" Mrs. Evans asked her daughter, grabbing some more apples to replace what had been lost. Lily nodded and turned to the oven.

Putting the towel aside, James picked up a wooden spoon to work on the pudding. He hoped his face wasn't too red.

Gripping the spoon awkwardly in his hand, he began to mix the sugar, chopped cranberries, flour and molasses together in wide circles. This was only his second time meeting Lily's parents —the first had been on the train platform as they arrived home for the holidays — and his first time visiting a Muggle house. He'd been so proud to be invited to Christmas Eve dinner, and when he'd offered to help, he'd been hoping to show the Evanses that he could fit in — to make a good impression. But the sheer number of strange devices and loud sounds to remember had overwhelmed him, made it difficult to keep Lily's instructions fixed in his head. He hadn't meant to use magic. Not, James grumbled internally, that he'd been doing so well without it...

James's spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand taking his own. His heart stuttered. "Hold the spoon like this," Lily said, stepping in to rearrange his grip. "Like a wand. You'll have more control, and you'll be able to whip the batter faster."

James could think of nothing but the warmth of Lily's hands over his own. She stood so close that he could have counted her freckles without his glasses.

The sudden din of eckletricity made him jump. Mrs. Evans had managed to fix the issue with the eclectric goblet (The blender, Lily had said? Or was he thinking of a fender?). After a few moments, the apples and squash were pulverized into a thick, liquid mixture. It looked as though the soup was saved.

"There," Mrs. Evans said with satisfaction, turning back toward Lily and James at the table. Her lips quirked upward, and Lily took a quick step back.

"I was just showing James how to hold the spoon, Mum," Lily said, reddening. "He doesn't mix batter often, since wizard families usually use spells for cooking..."

Mrs. Evans, who had looked skeptical of her daughter's excuses, turned toward James with interest. "Really?"

James nodded. "Oh, yeah, we always use magic to cook at my house."

"Well, isn't that the most exciting thing!" She looked impressed. "Could you show me?"

"He can! He's seventeen, too!" said Lily eagerly. That was right — she'd said that her mum was interested in magic. It was her sister that was the problem...

James ran his hand through his hair, which (to his embarrassment) was still wet with chicken stock. Lily's mother was watching him expectantly. This was his opportunity to make up for his earlier fumbling, James thought, drawing his wand. He tried to remember the spell for stirring. He'd seen the wand movement so many times...

The cranberry batter exploded in his face.

The kitchen was silent. James blinked, covered in food for the second time in a row. "Um. Usually my mum does it."

Mrs. Evans burst into loud guffaws, and suddenly, James felt lighter than he'd been all afternoon. "Of course she does," Mrs. Evans said. "Nothing new under the sun. Let me grab you a towel to clean up, dear..."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Evans," James said. As she bustled from the kitchen, he turned back toward the table, wondering if he should measure out ingredients for a second batch.

As Mrs. Evans footsteps grew quieter on the stairs, Lily stepped close to James once more. "Very smooth," she whispered in his ear. In a quick movement, she licked some of pudding batter from his cheek and kissed the skin underneath. James blushed.

Lily walked back to her side of the table, eyeing James with mock thoughtfulness. Cranberry juice and molasses stained her mouth like lipstick. "The batter's okay," she said, grinning. "Let's add more sugar this time."

[ghosttrolls]

Okay I actually just recently rewatched RTGame's playthrough of American Arcadia, which is a story based game about a guy living a Truman Show-esque life in 2023, with a few differences in concept. Mainly that the whole town doesn't know they're in a tv show, everybody living there still thinks it's the 70's, and you can come from the outside to visit it as a tourist location (DON'T break the fourth wall)- kind of a mashup between Walt Disney's original EPCOT idea and the Truman Show.

The people in the town of Arcadia are broadcast on their own individual twitch streams, and ones who get no views are eventually given a Retirement Package and removed from the show. The main guy we follow in the town is named Trevor, and his best friend at work gets the retirement package. The job itself is dull, and Trevor leads a boring lonely life, so it's sad when his friend leaves. But when he's alone he can suddenly hear music playing that says "don't be a fool..." and sees signs edited to tell him "YOUR FRIEND IS DEAD" and stuff. Eventually Trevor also gets the retirement package, but he gets a call from an edited voice calling themselves "Kovacs" (named after the head scientist in the creation of Arcadia, also a guy who had a tv show in the 50s/60s, so Trevor also knows who he is). Kovacs tells him not to go for the vacation, that it's dangerous, he needs to leave town, it's all a lie! So he runs away from his boss, and security, and starts following everything Kovacs tells him to say.

The game cuts to a first person view and we now play as Angela, an employee in the corporate offices of the company that runs Arcadia, who is the one going by the alias of Kovacs. She is in contact with a group of six people who escaped Arcadia decades ago - the only ones to ever do so. They advise her on what to do while her manager is always getting more and more suspicious that she's doing something against the rules.

As the story progresses, we get introduced as well to the character that's like, the great granddaughter of Arcadia's Walt Disney or something. She's the face of all the channels they run. The big one in charge. I forget her name so I'll call her Miss Disney, I guess.

Trevor gets very close to escaping early on, but it becomes clear that every Arcadia resident comes equipped with either some kind of brainwashing or an implanted chip that makes them able to hear a specific frequency of noise that's played from large speakers at any possible exit, at every highway leaving town, and it's an unbearable noise that makes you unable to move or do anything because it hurts really badly. This is called The Jingle. Visiting tourists can't hear it. This is when Trevor realizes how trapped he is, and fully commits to working with Angela to get out.

It's a really fun and engaging story. Angela is helping him get out but she's not all-knowing, she calls the big six group a lot and they give her advice. At one point the group gets raided by the police and they have to mobilize, but they call her from the car, only cutting contact when different police pull them over for speeding. Meanwhile, Trevor finds an old abandoned Pre-Arcadia town, where he is able to undergo a ten hour brainwashing process that removes The Jingle from his brain! But he still can't actually find a way out. It turns out Arcadia is in a giant dome.

The story climaxes when he goes back to Arcadia headquarters, confronts Miss Disney, and presses a big button that's supposed to unlock the dome. It doesn't actually, but it opens up a discussion. It turns out Miss Disney is one of those six people who escaped - she's not actually the real heir, the lineage died off long ago. But she escaped, faced reality, and wanted to go back to Arcadia, so she volunteered to pretend to be a long lost great granddaughter, and reassimilated herself into Arcadia.

She then reveals that this entire plot that Trevor had to unravel was part of a new spinoff series, Escape From Arcadia! She shows clips from Trevor's escape, and there's branding, a whole trailer. A popular jock character will get a crack at it next week.

She tells Trevor, I hated it on the outside. It's so cruel and the adjustment to jumping 50 years forward is too much. He should stay in Arcadia. But he chooses no, and then it cuts to like a year later and he's happy living on his own, with Angela, and that's that.

But something about the big final reveal bugs me.

Why stage a police raid if you're not getting raided? Why did she put so much effort into all that? I don't doubt that Miss Disney was one of the six that escaped but I didn't understand her motivation for some things in the end. The reveal of "Escape From Arcadia" felt more like a coverup than something she'd actually been planning, because they were using deadly force the entire time Trevor was trying to escape. She assures - to the audience watching - that he was never in real harm's way. But the guns, the dogs, the electric shocks and more, cast so much doubt in my mind that the escape was intentional. Angela wasn't in on it, she really was an individual employee who thought she was conspiring against her employer.

It feels like just rearranging a couple things would make the end align better for me. Like there's so much hidden information, even when Trevor is looking it in the eye the people in charge are denying it until the very end. At the same time, I don't think the company should be so all-powerful that the whole story was according to plan, either! Multiple times they capture Trevor and try to make him sign an NDA, try to offer him a high quality retirement for not speaking up, and then use deadly force when he says no. And then they turn around and we're supposed to believe they wanted Trevor to escape,,, like the narrative of the story says that's what happened, no tricks this time!

I like the idea of Miss Disney being one of the escaped six, I don't mind her being manipulative or whatever. But I think it would've landed better if the spin-off show was a coverup, not a planned all along thing. I also don't get all the charades they played, because some of them ended up being pointless. Man, there was one more thing I was gonna say in this post to tie it all together, but I wrote so much I forgot what it was. Uhhh. If you have seen or played the game let me know your thoughts.

[starrvlight]

should i make a web toon??

chat should I make a webtoon?? I already have some story written out, it's kinda lie sbg?? It's not like taken from SBG I promise 😭 but it's the same genre??and I have not ppl to edit my art / anyone to help out with the comic CONSIDERING IM A MINOR (13-15)??I also don't consider myself good a drawing:p But I'll tell u about it and lmk if I should try to make it a comic??:D

it's about these kids (12-13) I KNOW IT'S YOUNG BUT WHATS A LIL TRAUMA GONNA DO?? And like (I'm still figuring this out 😔(ok nvm I'm just going to copy and paste I have a 2 starts so far starts so far))

starter one: (2nd one I made + still working on)

They use walkie talkies the communicate *FIFI RUNNING THRU THE HALLS OF HER SCHOOL* Hey- I'm Fiona or fifi- whatever u wanna call me. For the past few months I've been having this recurring dream, or simalar to that.. Cut to fifi panting, crying and bleeding a lot from the side of she stomach, running in a hellish realm from a multiple runners going to some massive treehouse and she climbs a ladder and axel rolls up the ladder, and fifi pressing a button and collapse shaking

Cut back to Fifi, running into her class "your late miss Weech." Fifi looks up "sorry Mr mordini" she mumbles

starter 2: (og one)

Fifi was looking thru her dad's stuff and saw some "fun" looking horror game that was shoved way way way in the back1-2 (axel and fifi) people are playing a game, then the game glitches and the game like sucks them in.they were playing some horror game where you had necklaces/ bracelets/earrings rings that they found then they had some type of power (but didn't know||powers:, water,fire,air,earth,flying, manipulate gravity,super speed, instant healing, able to shield Able to manipulate blood, shrink/grow is size, teleport abe to see into the future by a.little bit, lightning yk?) and so they kinda just walked around for a bit and then saw something glowing..it was a crimson shade of red..like blood.. axel grabbed it and looked at it then hesitantly but it on, then continued walking it was really dare,, they came across this neighborhood/ghost town and a whole bunch of houses were like decaying and they walked in, hoping to find stuff,they ended up finding some water, a backpack and a couple flashlights +batteries.. and a ring that had a dark green gem..then l of a sudden they hear EXTREMELY loud screeching and they remember it from the game they the began to run out the house but screeching got louder and louder to they ran the opposite way, but there was no way out so they had to kill the creature (it's a black creature that's completely black and has like a really open mouth andna head that's tilted back, a massive eye on their chest and in the same pllace on their back, really tall massive claws, they r called runners/screechers, then there are other ones that can fly at really high speeds r called flyers) they didn't know how so they just ran and ran, until axel fel...Fifi pulled axel and help him up..but it was too late and the monster lunged at them then the crouchd and covered themselves, then hears some running and then a loud screach,. They looks up and say a trio, one has black, really curly hair, one has a bit with bleached hair and one with browns hair and some hair dye, the one with h dyed hair has black goop on her hand she shirt, then the one with curly blkack hair ran to them

And I drew both comics a bit both have I think 3 panels :p

AND SORRY FOR RANDOM NAMES IN IT I CAN POST THE CHARACTER INTRODUCTION STUFF IF U WANT MORE INFO

ANDDD ANOTHING THINK IM WITTEWLIWLY DRAWING IN IBISPAINT 🤨 LIKE??

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

You may have seen my recent post about possible new styles Dante could have in a future installment of Devil May Cry. One of the proposed styles I named "Redshifter". This is a separation of Dante's teleport mechanics from his Trickster style.

To elaborate, I think this style would share a lot of moves with Vergil's "Darkslayer" style from Devil May Cry 3: Special Edition. Dante would have a 'Ground Shift' sending him a short distance across the ground and closer to his target, an 'Air Shift' sending him a short distance closer to and slightly above his target, and a 'Back Shift' sending him a short distance across the ground and away from his target.

In the same game, Vergil would have equivalent moves in his complementary style - for the sake of symmetry, named either "Darkshifter" or "Blueshifter" - albeit with slightly superior speed and range. However, they would each have a fourth more unique move.

For Vergil, his neutral Style Action would be a teleport that places him slightly closer to and level with his target, whether they're on the ground or in the air. Dante doesn't need this move because his 'Air Shift' wouldn't place him as high as Vergil's 'Air Shift'. Speaking of, Vergil's 'Air Shift' would be his forward Style Action, his 'Back Shift' would be his backward Style Action, and his 'Ground Shift' would be his back-to-forward Style Action.

However, Dante's Ground Shift would serve as his neutral Style Action, with his back-to-forward Style Action being an 'Up Shift' that sends him straight up.

Each brother would also gain a different effect if the player holds the Style Button instead of just tapping it. For Dante, this would simply cause him to repeatedly Shift, allowing the player to change direction simply by holding the left analog stick. For Vergil, this would cause him to teleport straight to his target rather than a short distance closer to them, provided they have been impaled with a Mirage Blade.

I'll have to make a whole other post some day about my thoughts on Style Actions during Sin Devil Trigger, but for now I'll say I do want Dante and Vergil to have the same range of moves during this transformation.

Dante's Shifts would become as fast as Vergil's, and holding the Style Button would cause him to teleport straight to the enemy like he does in Devil May Cry 5 (and the way Vergil does by default).

But for Vergil, I struggled to imagine how his teleports could become any more powerful for a long time. It's not like there's any way for them to be faster than instant, right?

In the post linked above, I described a possible expansion of the Quicksilver style, and one move that I added was called 'Rewind Time'. This allowed Dante to reverse the flow of time briefly, restoring himself and his enemies to the state they were in a few seconds prior.

During Sin Devil Trigger, Vergil can now Shift straight to his enemies simply by tapping the Style Button. But by holding the button, he will appear in the proper location, while his enemies rewind by a couple seconds. Furthermore, his 'past self' will appear like an afterimage, performing whatever actions the player did before using Vergil's time-traveling Shift, before disappearing himself. This wouldn't have the recovery application that Dante's 'Rewind Time' would, but it would provide a niche opportunity for combo-savvy players to exploit.

So long as I'm talking about Styles, I want to discuss a second one that Vergil could have. This would be more-or-less his answer to Dante's Royal Guard, called the "Blackguard" style. Blackguard is a real word (though it's not pronounced how you think), for someone 'who behaves in a dishonorable or contemptible way'. I think this reflects in the selfish path Vergil has taken up to this point, contrasting his brother who's upheld his duty to protect the human world.

While in this Style Vergil would have access to his passive block from Devil May Cry 5: Special Edition, blocking attacks at a very small Concentration cost, so long as he isn't in the middle of an attack, a taunt, or a jump. To complement this, Vergil's side-roll would be replaced with a dodge similar to the one he uses with the Style Button in Devil May Cry 5: Special Edition while he is in 'Darkshifter'/'Blueshifter' style.

His neutral Style Action would be a simple parry, much like the one he uses when hit with a melee attack during his boss fights in Devil May Cry 3 or Devil May Cry 5. This can be a block with Yamato's scabbard like in the latter, or a swipe with his free hand like in the former. This would only be effective against melee attacks.

His forward Style Action should be based on how he counters ranged attacks during his boss fights in Devil May Cry 3. He draws his sword and spins the blade, before flinging projectiles back to his enemy, complimenting Dante's Royal Revenge in a way. This would be ineffective against melee attacks.

His backward Style Action should cause him to cast his sword away and summon Urizen's crystal shield around it, creating a shield with limited health at the temporary sacrifice of his most reliable weapon. I'm not sure if he should be able to recall his sword with the attack button, or if he should be committed to this state until the shield is broken or until combat ends.

Finally, his back-to-forward Style Action should be a new version of World Of V, transforming Vergil into V, and allowing him to command Urizen in some way. I think this fits into Vergil's defensive Style because World Of V is a means of recovering health.

I think 'Blackguard''s equivalent to Royal Release should be in Sin Devil Trigger, a two-handed dashing sword swipe mimicking Nelo Angelo's, negating and reflecting damage from both melee and ranged attacks. It wouldn't rely on stored charges like Dante's would, but rather damage dealt would scale based on the attack being deflected.

Again, the post about Dante's Style Actions in Sin Devil Trigger will have to wait.