#control vs surrender

[pastorhogg]

The Illusion of Control

Life Lessons Learned There’s something deeply human about the desire to be in control. In Isaiah 44, the prophet pulls back the curtain on idolatry—not just in its ancient form but in its timeless spirit. His satire is biting yet revealing. The idol-maker takes a tree, cuts it down, uses part of it to cook his food, and with the remaining wood, carves a god. Then he bows to this lifeless block…

[turiyatitta]

What Can I Control?

A Nondual Reflection on the Illusion of Distinction From a young age, we are taught to divide reality into two columns: what belongs to us and what belongs to others, what we can shape and what is beyond reach. This dualistic framework—“mine” versus “not mine,” “inner” versus “outer”—seems practical, especially when navigating the everyday world. But there comes a moment, often brought on by…

[mommyownsmee]

What Is “Soft Domming” and How to Do It?

╰┈➤ A Detailed Guide

Soft domming is a style of dominance rooted in care, emotional attunement, and subtle power dynamics. It emphasizes psychological control, gentle authority, and nurturing dominance over overt force or aggression. Unlike hard or sadistic domination, which can involve intense power exchanges and pain, soft domming is more about leading with tenderness, calm confidence, and emotional intelligence.

This article explores what soft domming is, the principles behind it, and how to practice it effectively and ethically—whether you’re new to BDSM or an experienced player expanding your dynamic range.

This article includes:

What Is Soft Domming?

Soft Domming vs. Hard Domming

How to Practice Soft Domming

Common Types of Soft Dom Scenes

Soft Dom Archetypes and Roleplay

Soft Domming in Long-Term Dynamics

Communication Tools for Soft Domming

Tools and Props That Support Soft Domming

Soft Domming and Submissive Archetypes

Integrating Soft Domming into Vanilla Life

Emotional Risks and Boundaries

Is Soft Domming Right for You?

Final Thoughts

1. What Is Soft Domming?

Soft domming refers to a style of dominance where the dominant partner maintains control in a scene or relationship, but does so in a gentle, emotionally supportive, and often affectionate way. It’s not about being passive—it’s about being in charge without needing to raise your voice or break someone down. Soft domming combines intention with emotional presence.

Key Traits of a Soft Dom:

• Calm, steady authority: The soft dom isn’t reactive or loud. They exude grounded confidence that makes the submissive feel secure and guided. This can include measured pacing in speech, calm handling of unexpected emotions, and an unwavering sense of “I’ve got you.”

• Empathy and emotional awareness: A soft dom pays close attention to how their partner is feeling moment to moment. They notice the smallest changes in body language, tone, and energy. They prioritize emotional feedback over technical performance.

• Nurturing and validating behavior: Affirmation and support are tools of control. A soft dom leads through encouragement, not criticism. This is especially important for submissives who are sensitive, new, or healing from past trauma.

• Non-verbal control (eye contact, tone, body language): A raised eyebrow, a soft touch, a pause before a sentence—these tools become power moves in soft domming. Eye contact alone can keep a submissive grounded and obedient.

• Affectionate language, even when giving commands: A soft dom uses language that is warm, inviting, and laced with care. This could mean giving orders in a whisper, with a smile, or framed as a favor being done out of love.

Soft doms often engage in aftercare-focused dynamics, emphasize verbal praise over degradation, and create a safe space where their submissive feels protected, seen, and guided. That doesn’t mean it lacks intensity—it just manifests differently, often in a quieter, more psychological way. In many cases, soft domming can evoke even deeper emotional surrender because it builds on safety and trust, not intimidation.

2.

Both are valid expressions of dominance. Some people blend elements of both. The important thing is consent, communication, and knowing what works for you and your partner(s). A soft dom might still use physical tools or protocols—but the intention behind them is different. Where a hard dom says “Obey me or suffer,” a soft dom says, “Obey me because you trust me—and you want to.”

3. How to Practice Soft Domming

1. Understand the Power You’re Holding

Soft domming is not passive. You’re still leading. You still set the tone, establish the boundaries, and guide the experience. The difference is how you do it—with softness, consistency, and care.

Start by asking yourself:

What kind of control do I want to offer?

What does my partner need to feel safe and submissive?

How can I create a space where they can let go?

A soft dom does not seek control for its own sake—they offer it as a structure for the submissive’s self-expression. That’s a core difference: a soft dom views control as a gift given to the submissive, not a right seized from them. This mindset frames the entire dynamic in a more relational, cooperative light.

The role of a soft dom often resembles a caretaker, mentor, or protective lover—someone who holds space for their submissive’s surrender without violating trust. Many soft doms take on a teaching role, especially in newer dynamics, patiently showing their partner how to give up control safely and enjoyably.

2. Set the Scene with Intention

Environment matters. Create a mood that invites trust and openness. This might involve dim lighting, soft music, clear communication about roles, and rituals that reinforce your connection (like kneeling, collaring, or phrases of affirmation).

Soft domming scenes benefit from clear beginnings and endings. This helps define the emotional arc and signals when to “drop in” and when to return to everyday roles. The more intentional the scene, the more your partner can relax into it.

Examples:

“Look at me while you breathe, just like that.”

“Good. You’re doing exactly what I need.”

“Let me take care of you tonight.”

These affirming statements are commands in disguise—gentle but directive. They keep the submissive grounded in the moment while reminding them who is in charge.

Rituals are especially useful in soft domming. Even small routines (like having your submissive wait quietly while you prepare a scene, or removing their jewelry as a sign of control) build a framework of consistent dominance without harshness. A nightly “yes, Sir” check-in or a morning collaring ritual can reinforce emotional connection and power dynamics outside of physical play.

3. Use Praise and Psychological Play

Soft doms often lean heavily on praise kinks and psychological dominance. Instead of breaking someone down, you build them up—controlling them by becoming the voice they want to please.

Phrases that work:

“You’re such a good girl/boy/pet.”

“I love how you give yourself to me.”

“Stay still for me. That’s perfect.”

The goal is to make your partner feel wanted, seen, and owned—without needing to scare or overwhelm them.

Praise is not just about ego-stroking. It becomes a tool of emotional conditioning. You’re shaping their behavior and deepening their trust by giving attention and affection for obedience, vulnerability, or devotion.

Advanced tactic: Mix praise with mild teasing or restraint.

╰┈➤ For example: “You’ve done so well—but not yet. Wait for my word.” (This uses affection to control pacing and anticipation.)

You can also use psychological play with consensual emotional vulnerability:

Ask them to confess a desire.

Encourage them to write or speak affirmations.

Have them journal about their submission, then read it to you.

Control their focus through grounding exercises (“Feel the floor beneath your knees. Good. Now give me your eyes.”)

4. Touch and Nonverbal Control

Soft domming is tactile. It’s about controlling pace, movement, and reactions through gentle touch—stroking hair, steadying hands, guiding with a fingertip. Eye contact, tone, and physical presence often speak louder than words.

Tactics:

Pulling a partner close and whispering a command.

Holding their face gently while giving instructions.

Slowing their breathing with yours.

You don’t need impact tools to dominate someone’s body. You just need presence and clarity. A hand on the back of their neck. A slow inhale followed by, “Now exhale with me.” Touch can be corrective, rewarding, grounding—or all three at once.

Body language should be intentional. Every gesture—where you place your hands, how you touch them, how you lead their body—should reinforce control while offering safety. It’s the dominance of reassurance.

Breath play in a very light and consensual form can even be part of soft domming—not in the sense of cutting air, but of guiding breath to build rhythm and trust: “Breathe with me. Good. Let go now.” You’re not taking their breath—you’re teaching them to feel it more deeply.

5. Be Attentive and Responsive

A good soft dom reads their partner moment to moment. You’re not just doing things to them—you’re doing things with them. Pay attention to body language, breathing, eye movement. Ask questions when needed. Stay attuned.

Soft doms often check in without breaking the scene, using subtle cues:

“Still with me?”

“Do you want more, or should I slow down?”

“Give me a word if you need to pause.”

This maintains safety without disrupting intensity.

Also consider incorporating verbal or visual safewords, especially if your dynamic emphasizes emotion over intensity. For example, “green/yellow/red” traffic light systems work well, or simply: “tap once for yes, twice for no.”

When in doubt, overcommunicate. A soft dom doesn’t guess—they ask. And then they listen.

6. Prioritize Aftercare

Soft dom dynamics often go deep emotionally. That makes aftercare non-negotiable. Whether you were stroking or spanking, your submissive may feel exposed, vulnerable, or overwhelmed.

Offer:

Water, cuddling, affirmations

Gentle grounding touch

Reassurance of safety and value

Time to decompress and talk

The dominant may also need aftercare—don’t neglect your own emotional well-being.

A soft dom might use aftercare to reinforce their presence and ownership: “You’re mine, and I’ll always take care of you.” It’s a continuation of the dynamic, not a break from it.

Consider discussing the scene afterward in a debrief, not as a critique but as a way to reinforce trust: “How did you feel when I said that?” or “Did anything surprise you tonight?”

4. Common Types of Soft Dom Scenes

Soft domming isn’t limited to one kind of dynamic. The emotional range is wide—romantic, parental, mentoring, spiritual, and sensual. Here are some popular soft dom scene types that reflect the variety of dynamics:

1. Guided Submission

The dominant guides the submissive through a series of instructions—simple, slow, and intentional—using voice and presence more than physical restraints. This can be a highly meditative experience.

Elements to include:

Verbal pacing (“Take off your shirt. Slowly. Good.”)

Breath synchronization

Eye contact as a command

Praise for each step

Gentle corrections without shame

This scene is ideal for submissives who enjoy focus, structure, and affirmation more than degradation or discipline.

2. Service-Oriented Domination

Service submission is where a submissive expresses devotion by serving the dominant in practical or ritualistic ways. A soft dom uses tone and structure to reinforce that this service is an act of love and obedience—not obligation.

Examples:

Preparing tea, folding laundry, or assisting with self-care

Ritual grooming (brushing hair, running a bath)

Massage with instructions and affirmations

Following a daily care or task list from the dom

A soft dom might say, “Polish my shoes for me—not because you have to, but because it’s how you show you’re mine.”

3. Emotional Edgeplay

This is the most delicate form of soft domming. The dom gently pushes the submissive to explore emotional vulnerabilities—desires, fears, insecurities—while holding a secure, affirming space.

Examples:

Confessional scenes (asking the sub to speak secrets or confessions while kneeling)

Writing scenes (journaling assignments with deep reflection)

Mirror scenes (having the sub speak self-love affirmations in front of a mirror while guided)

Warning: Emotional edgeplay requires advanced trust and strong communication. Only engage in this with a solid aftercare plan and clear emotional consent.

5. Soft Dom Archetypes and Roleplay

Not all soft doms look or act the same. There are many expressions of gentle dominance. Think in terms of energy and archetype.

Common Soft Dom Archetypes:

Caretaker Dom: Focuses on healing, support, and soothing. May use nurturing tasks like feeding, bathing, and cuddling.

Romantic Dom: Uses poetic, affectionate language. Highly sensual, attentive, and deeply emotionally invested.

Mentor Dom: Offers structure, growth, and wisdom. May help the submissive with personal goals, mindset training, or emotional development.

Elegant Dom: Composed, graceful, and subtle. Dominates through poise, gaze, and precision.

Protective Dom: Soft but firm. Prioritizes safety, security, and acts of shielding. Physically or emotionally stands between the sub and the world.

Roleplay Scenarios That Fit Soft Domming:

Teacher / Student: Encouraging performance, gently correcting mistakes, rewarding obedience.

Royal / Servant: Soft authority, quiet command, focused on protocol and devotion.

Boss / Assistant: Not aggressive—more like calm guidance, mentorship, “I know what’s best for you.”

Healer / Patient: Grounded in body care and surrender. Can involve consensual caretaking in a ritualized way.

Roleplay is a way to express fantasies while reinforcing the tone of the dynamic. For soft domming, roleplay often emphasizes reassurance, personal development, or romantic tension—not humiliation or punishment.

6. Soft Domming in Long-Term Dynamics

While soft domming is often discussed in the context of scenes, many couples build ongoing power exchange relationships based entirely or primarily on this dynamic.

These long-term D/s relationships can include:

Consistent rituals and rules that affirm the power exchange in daily life (e.g., bedtime rituals, meal prep tasks, honorifics like “Sir,” “Ma’am,” or custom titles).

Emotional leadership, where the dominant offers guidance in the submissive’s personal or professional life with care and intentionality.

Long-term service tasks that provide the submissive with a sense of purpose and devotion.

Relationship coaching-style dominance, where the dom helps the sub achieve their goals by using encouragement, structure, and emotional accountability.

In this context, soft domming becomes a blend of dominance, life coaching, and gentle authority. It’s not about micromanaging—it’s about curating a lifestyle of support and erotic control.

7. Communication Tools for Soft Domming

Clear, compassionate communication is a hallmark of soft dominance. Here are some techniques that strengthen emotional safety and deepen connection:

Active Listening

Soft doms listen with their full attention. They mirror their partner’s words, offer empathy, and respond with care—even in disagreement.

Open-Ended Questions

Instead of “Do you like that?” try:

“What are you feeling right now?”

“What does this make you think about?”

“What do you need more of to feel safe?”

Tone Framing

Soft doms pay attention not just to what they say, but how they say it. A command in a calm, low voice lands very differently than the same words barked out.

Emotional Check-In Rituals

Establish regular moments where both partners can step outside the dynamic and reflect. Example prompts:

“How are you feeling about our dynamic this week?”

“Is there anything I could do differently to support you?”

“Do you feel loved and seen right now?”

8. Tools and Props That Support Soft Domming

Soft domming doesn’t always involve impact play, but some tools can complement the dynamic if used with care and intention:

Silk or leather cuffs for light restraint—focus is on containment, not struggle.

Blindfolds to heighten sensory focus and trust.

Feathers, soft brushes, or fingertips for sensory teasing and control

Vibrators or temperature play used while commanding your partner’s reactions.

A voice recorder (for recorded affirmations or commands they listen to when apart).

The key is not what the tool is—but how it’s used. The dom’s voice and presence remain the most powerful instruments in soft domming.

9. Soft Domming and Submissive Archetypes

Different submissives respond differently to soft domination. Here are some sub types that often pair well with this style:

The Romantic

They crave closeness, compliments, and feeling emotionally safe. They bloom under affection and poetic language.

The Caregiver Sub

They enjoy nurturing and domestic service and respond well to doms who appreciate and structure their efforts.

The Anxious Sub

They may have past trauma or fear around intense domination. They need stability, repeated reassurance, and warm authority.

The Praise Addict

They crave validation and emotional reward. Responds well to verbal encouragement, structured goals, and being noticed.

Soft domming isn’t one-size-fits-all—but understanding your submissive’s core needs helps you shape the tone of your dominance effectively.

10. Integrating Soft Domming into Vanilla Life

Not all soft doms are “in scene” all the time. Many couples incorporate the energy of soft domming into everyday interactions without formal BDSM sessions.

Examples:

Offering calming instructions during stress: “Pause. Take a breath. Look at me.”

Providing praise after difficult tasks: “You did that beautifully. I’m proud of you.”

Using rituals for intimacy: “Kneel in front of me before bed. Let me hold you.”

The power dynamic doesn’t disappear outside the bedroom—it just adapts to context. These moments reinforce the emotional bond and trust that soft domming thrives on.

11. Emotional Risks and Boundaries

Soft domming often goes deep. It builds strong attachment and emotional intimacy. That’s its power—but also its risk.

Potential Challenges:

Over-attachment: Submissives may idealize the dom as a savior or emotional caretaker.

Burnout for the dom: Holding space for someone else 24/7 emotionally can be draining, especially without reciprocation or breaks.

Blurry boundaries: Gentle dynamics can blur the line between kink and vanilla intimacy. It’s important to define what’s play and what’s relationship.

Unacknowledged emotional manipulation: When affection is used to subtly control without clarity or consent, it crosses a line.

How to Protect Against These:

Establish regular check-ins about emotional tone.

Define the boundary between dom/sub roles and “regular life.”

Encourage the submissive’s autonomy outside of submission.

Dom and sub both should maintain a self-care routine outside of the relationship.

Soft domming isn’t easier—it’s just a different kind of emotional labor. It requires ethical self-awareness and mutual respect.

12. Is Soft Domming Right for You?

Soft domming is ideal for:

Partners who crave emotional connection as much as (or more than) physical intensity

Submissives who feel unsafe with aggressive energy

Relationships built on caregiving, structure, or mentorship

People interested in blending intimacy and eroticism, without cruelty or humiliation

Doms who enjoy service, romance, or teaching roles

But remember: soft domming still involves power exchange. It’s not “just being nice.” It’s about intentional leadership with care.

And soft domming can absolutely include intensity—it can involve edging, restraint, orgasm control, or even tears—just held inside a container of kindness and safety.

13. Final Thoughts

Soft domming is about commanding with care, leading with love, and holding space for vulnerability. It requires maturity, patience, and empathy—but offers profound rewards: trust, depth, and intense emotional connection.

Whether in a short scene or long-term dynamic, soft domming is not about being less—it’s about being deliberate. You’re not giving up power. You’re mastering it.

In the right hands, soft dominance can make someone feel not just aroused—but cherished. Not just owned—but understood. It’s not about whispering instead of shouting—it’s about choosing your words like silk gloves instead of steel cuffs.

[honeygraves]

Ⅰ. Saturn is in its joy in the 12th house. At its highest expression, this placement allows a person to act as a bridge between the seen and unseen worlds. They often stand as quiet gatekeepers. Those who wrong them may trigger consequences they don’t understand and cannot see. Saturn in the 12th comes with ancestral protection or long-standing spiritual contracts. It is ancient. This is why the label of “unseen enemies” does not apply to them in the usual way: they are protected by energy not of this material plane.

Ⅱ. I have noticed that many Capricorn men exhibit a primal, almost silent protectiveness toward Lilith in Cancer women. Capricorn’s Saturn energy resonates with the archetype of the father, embodying discipline and boundary, while Lilith in Cancer channels the fierce, untamed mother. This dynamic stirs an instinctual response in Capricorn men to guard and stabilize what feels vulnerable yet potent in her. His need for control meets her refusal to be confined, creating a sacred, often unspoken dance between authority and emotional sovereignty.

Ⅲ. While not explicitly about Astrology, the book "Of Cosmogonic Eros" by Ludwig Klages presents Eros as the life-principle that binds the soul to the cosmos, the breath of the world before it was broken into subject and object. I believe this reframes Eros in the chart as a psychic portal to something far more sacred. Wherever Eros is in your chart, the world comes alive. A place where imagery, longing, and beauty overwhelm reason and where desire becomes revelatory, not purely sensual. It is not “what you’re into,” but about where desire becomes a path to soul-awakening.

Ⅳ. On February 20, 2026 Saturn–Neptune will conjunct at 0°44’ Aries. This initiates a new 36-year cycle between two of the most symbolically complex outer planets. I predict we will see a divide between followers vs leaders, structure vs surrender, authenticity vs illusion. A sort of renaissance around authentic identity: but one that is fiery, volatile, and radically individual. Not the soft Piscean dream but the Aries intensity: cutting through illusions with the sword of selfhood. It's a dangerous renaissance too. Some will confuse impulsiveness for truth, or fall into Neptunian delusions of grandeur masquerading as identity. Some will become a version of themselves they never thought was possible, but in the best way.

(art: night by edwin georgie)

[lheslie]

Mark Variants vs A Waterbender/Chi-blocker Reader

Y/N is a Waterbender/Chi-Blocker, and a superhero in their own right.

- Main Mark

He's amazed at your waterbending skills he's never seen anyone control water like you had, he started to admire your skills, he gained the courage to ask you to spar with him to learn more from you.

When you two were sparring, you stopped using your waterbending skills and blocked his Chi and he collapsed immediately.

He was so stunned at your fighting skills that he had, started to ask you to spar with him everyday.

"How did you do that?" He asked shaking trying to stand up from collapsing again.

He also learned that you could heal using your waterbending, so he sometimes get injured on purpose to ask you to heal him to get your attention.

He loves teaming up with you, he sometimes look at you so much that he accidentally flew to a wall.

He was flustered when you laughed, healing him.

- He loves your waterbending.

- He loves your fighting techniques.

- He is kinda afraid of your Chi blocking skills.

- He loves being healed by you.

- Omni Mark

He was flying on the sky as he was observing you, healing a lot of civilians with your waterbending.

You noticed his stare and presence, and you looked up at him.

"Why would you waste your time with them, they're not greatful for anything." He spoke, as you glared.

Wasting no time, you took water out from your water jug to create chains to tie him, pulling the chains down smashing him to the ground.

He immediately stood up, rushing to attack you, but your reflexes acted and used bloodbending as a means to stop him.

You can see him clenching his teeth trying to escape.

"Surrender or face the consequences." You declared.

- He is astonished at your blood bending skills.

- He's questioning why someone like you walks around among these humans as he gave his humanity a long time ago.

- Target Mark

"All fucking losers." He shouted as he tried killing another superhero, as you snuck up on him, blocking his Chi, he was able to react fast and avoid your other attacks but two of his arms were currently useless.

"Woah, you interested in joining my empire?" He smirked as he flew.

"No." You blatantly refused which sparked his short fuse making him mad.

"Then I'll kill you." He said as he flew in trying to kill you, using his legs.

"I'm an Emperor, there's no way that I'll let a peasant like you defeat me." He declared as he was able to gain control of one of his arms.

"That fast?" You looked at him shocked as he was able to recover quickly. 

"I'm a conqueror, of course I can snap back immediately." He flexed as you tapped him with Ice spikes.

- He wants you to join his empire.

- He has to learn those skills that made his limbs stop.

- Has very high endurance from a lot of fighting experience.

- Viltrum Mark

"Why don't you join me?" He asks as he descended from the skies like an angel.

"And kill thousands of Innocent lives? No." You glared at him.

He sighed in disappoinment, "You could achieve more than this if you joined me."

"I'm happy where I am, and I don't need you dictating on what I do." You spoke as you created a water whip, whipping his face.

"Then I'll kill you." He proclaimed rushing at you, as you made Ice spikes traping him, he struggled but he broke free, but as he tried to attack you again.

You were able to make an Ice wall to block his attack.

You jumped high and landed on his back, making him carry you as he flew, this gave you an opening to block his Chi mid air.

You were faling down from the skies as you created a water, lasso to grab on to something before you could both fall, grabbing Viltrumite Mark as well.

- He wants you to join viltrum as someone like you deserves better.

- He thinks that your healing could be of help in viltrum.

- Shiesty Mark

"Well, hello there. never seen you in my dimension before. Think you'd stand a chance?" He provokes you.

He flew to punch you, as you flipped mid air getting behind him, blocking his left arm's Chi

"What the fuck?" He muttered as he tried moving his left arm but to no avail. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?!" He yelled angrily as he started to aggressively punch you with his right arm.

He refused to stop fighting, and he made a mistake of leaving an opening letting you block his Chi on his other arm.

"OH HELL NAH." He yelled as he tried kicking you with his legs now.

You also blocked his Chi on one of his legs making him hop on one leg.

"Motherfucker, once I regain control of my limbs you're deadddd." He threatened.

"Let's see who's faster then." You smiled.

- He's Interested in you.

- He's also afraid of you after you made his limbs useless.

- He never fought someone like you before.

- Sinister Mark

"Looks like you've ran out of water to use." He mocked, slowly approaching.

You looked around to see any source of water to get from as you ran to the nearest tree available taking water from it.

"Interesting." He muttered as you made the water surround him to suffocate him within it.

He flew out of the water sphere to attack you, but you immediately took more water from the trees near you to make Ice spears throwing it on his face.

While he kept escaping from the Ice, you were losing water to fight him with, and you were left with no choice to use your bodily sweat as a means to gain a fighting chance against him.

"You're not running out of resources." He laughed as he was able to avoid the rest of your attack, flying in to finally kill you, but your reflex kicked in and you stopped him by blood bending.

"So you can bend the water in my body too?" He looked at you even more interested, as he fought back against your blood bending even if it breaks his body.

- He wants to see more of your powers/skills.

- He wonders if you could do more than this.

- Prisoner Mark

You were in Russia, and it was cold.

"You can't beat me." Prisoner Mark spoke as you waterbend the Ice into water making the water surround him, caging him by bending it into a block of Ice.

He was quick to set himself free, but it gave you enough time to run near him, blocking the Chi from his arm, as he flew trying to escape from you.

But you created a waterchain, transforming it into Ice pulling him back down, slamming him to the ground.

You didn't give him a chance to stand back up again as you the blocked the Chi in his other body parts making sure he doesn't stand up again.

But he immdiately recovers from the attack.

"I've suffered getting tortured for years, this is nothing." He said as you were left with no choice but to force him to sit down encaged in Ice with your blood bending.

But he was strong to resist your blood bending, he was still standing trying to walk to you.

As you gave it your all to immobilized him, you accidentally knocked him off with your blood bending, which you didn't know was possible.

- He's quietly observing you to look for your weakness.

- He has stronger willpower in fighting your blood bending.

- Mohawk Mark

"Well, what do we have here?" He smirked as he tried launching an a attack at full speed, but you used blood bending to stop him mid air.

"W-what the fuck? How is that p-possible who are you?" He asked struggling within your control.

But a falling building was about to hit civilians so you, switched your attention to save the civilians.

He got out of your control and started to fly faster at you.

You created a huge wall of Ice to block him.

"Wanna tell me how you did that sweetheart? That's pretty incredible." He compliments you.

As he started to throw random things on your way making you blind so you can't use your blood bending on him.

"Try it again, sweet heart but I apparently found a way to fight against you."

He wants you to join his empire, with you by his side he could achieve anything so he fights to find a way to contain you.

- Might make you his General if you join him, and his FAVORITE General even.

- He would try and negotiate with you just to make you join him.

- No goggles Mark

He was thrilled when you were able to block his Chi making him collapse on the ground within seconds.

"WOAH, WHAT WAS THAT? I CAN'T MOVE MY LIMB." He shouted amazed still trying to fight you, but his body won't listen to him.

He still fought hard to gain control over his body again, while you were trying to help the other heros.

He managed to stand up and try to sneak up on you, as your reflex made you use your blood bending on him.

"WOAH WHAT THE FUCK, this feels great" He said licking his lips fighting over control over this body.

"What's your name? I've never met someone like you before." He asked seemingly interested in you.

"Your worse nightmare." You replied approaching him making sure to immobilize him by blocking his Chi once more.

As you noticed something poking through down there.

"What the hell?" You looked at him weirded out.

- He's VERY INTERESTED.

- He loves the pain when you use blood bending on him.

- 10/10 fight, will fight and fight you again.

Taglist: @ik33ponmakinc00ki3s, @kundere20000000

I hope you like it!!!

[lottinlover]

The Game After The Game | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After a draw he couldn't stand, Kylian comes home needing to fuck something he can win. In the silence that follows, you let him destroy you, and then hold him like he didn't have to win to be yours.

Tags: Smut with Feelings, Porn with Plot, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Established Relationship, Reader POV, Power Play Warnings: 18+, it gets very filthy. I'm talking about: Spit Play, Choking, Nipple Play, Hair Pulling + more / etc. Word Count: 7,000+

Special Message: To my dearest mutual S, this is for you. Happy birthday beautiful! I share this little work with you as an extension of my love for you. I hope you find some sort of joy and fulfilment from reading it. I love you deeply and happy birthday once again, enjoy my princess.

The Game After The Game.

You didn’t go to the match today. Not out of protest, never that but because the world you’ve built doesn’t pause for 90 minutes, not even for Kylian Mbappé.

You had a boardroom to sit in. A deal to close. You wore your name like a crown and made men twice your age listen when you spoke. 

Power suits you. 

So does precision. 

And yet, somewhere between closing arguments and the clink of your champagne glass, you were refreshing the scoreline like a woman starved.

Real Madrid vs Atlético. A draw. The worst kind of ending.

Kylian hasn’t texted. Not once. Not a seen, not a typing. Silence. Thick, deliberate and vibrating with all the things he doesn’t know how to say when he’s furious at himself.

You don’t bother turning on the lights when you enter the penthouse. You slip your heels off by the door, your stride silent against the marble floors, and that’s when you see him.

In the kitchen.

He’s back to you, shirtless, barefoot, sweatpants slung low. His shoulders rise and fall in slow, controlled breaths, muscles flexing like they’re trying to hold back something. He’s drinking water straight from the bottle. Tilted throat, jaw clenched, the kind of posture sculptors fail to capture and lovers dream about.

The tension lives in his back. In the spread of his lats. In the twitch of his fingers where they tighten around the glass.

You don’t speak at first.

Not because you’re afraid but because you know him. And right now, words are landmines. You think about teasing him, just a little, maybe something bratty, like “at least you didn’t lose.” You wonder how hard he’d bite back.

But you settle on silence. 

Almost.

Your voice comes soft, low.

“You should’ve texted me.”

The sound of your voice cuts through the dark. Kylian sets the bottle down, slow. Rolls his shoulders back like he’s resetting his stance. 

And then he turns.

His eyes are blown wide with something unreadable. Jaw slack with exhaustion and rage that hasn’t found a home. He stares at you like you’re the only thing in the world that makes sense and the first thing he wants to destroy.

“Take your dress off.”

You don’t move at first.

You watch him. The way the low dim of the room gilds him, all bronze and shadows, a man made from rage and want. His chest rises slow, then faster. His sweat-damp skin glistens. Each breath feels like a held back growl, restrained only by ritual.

You step into the space between you like you own it. Because you do. Not just tonight, not just here. 

But always.

Your fingers move to the zipper at your side. You don’t rush. Not for him. You drag it down like it’s a promise, your eyes never leaving his.

The dress slips from your shoulders, catches for a moment at your hips and then falls. A whisper of fabric across skin, puddling at your feet like surrender. But this isn’t surrender. This is control. Because you know what you look like. You know what he sees.

The rise of your tits, the soft swell of your waist, the curve of your ass. He likes you like this. Bare, confident, your nipples stiffening under the cool air and the heat of his stare. You watch his jaw clench when you shift your weight, only slightly, making your thighs kiss and part again, and your tits jiggle in the way that mesmerises. A motion designed for hunger.

“You’re not gonna touch me?” You say, voice light and loaded.

He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t move but instead, he watches.

The silence is thick, stretched thin between you. And you stretch it further. You close the distance, slowly. Each step a tease. He’s taller than you, broader, body wound tight like a bowstring and you want to pluck him.

Your fingers hook at the waistband of his sweatpants. “These,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Off.”

He lets you.

You tug them low, slow, dragging, exposing hard muscle, honey skin, the sharp cut of his hips, the thick trail of hair that leads to what you want. He’s already hard. Long, fat, glistening, cock heavy and proud between you. He doesn’t hide it, he doesn’t react. The only sound is the heavy drops of his breath. 

“You’re so easy,” you hum, feigning sweetness, fingers ghosting the underside of his cock without ever holding. “One bad game and you’re already desperate for me.”

His jaw ticks. His hands flex once at his sides, barely restrained. “Careful,” he warns, voice rough. “You know what happens when you push.”

But you’re already pushing. Already rising onto your toes, brushing your mouth against his skin, his chest, his throat, his jaw. You lick at the hollow under his ear, slow and wet, and then pull back enough to smile.

“Maybe I want to be punished.”

Your fingers trail up his abdomen, nails catching gently on the ridges of muscle. His skin twitches under the touch. You watch his cock pulse, untouched, leaking and still, you don’t offer it what it wants. You drag your fingers along his chest, then down his sides, worship without worship.

When he finally moves, it’s sudden. Sharp. A crack of thunder in a slow brewing storm. He grabs you by the waist and lifts you like you weigh nothing. You gasp, half laugh, half moan as he turns and places you on the kitchen counter, his mouth finally, finally landing at your neck.

His lips are soft at first. Then teeth. Then tongue. He kisses like he’s starving, sucks like he wants to brand you. You moan, breath catching in your throat as your hands fist in his curls.

He spreads your thighs with his hips. Keeps you open. Exposed. His hands roam, down your spine around to your ass. He grabs you rough, fingers digging into the soft flesh, spreading you as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter. You feel how hard he is, how hot, how barely contained.

Still, he doesn’t fuck you.

Not yet.

His palms slide up, over the slope of your hips. Higher. To your breasts. He grabs one, thumb dragging over the nipple, but he doesn’t kiss it, doesn’t suck. He stares. You feel the ache bloom between your thighs.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Say you want it.”

But you don’t, not yet, not without a grin. And then breathless, bratty you say, “you look like you’re gonna come just from touching me.”

“You’re gonna regret that.” He laughs, sharp and low, mouth still against your collarbone, dimple peeking through.

And you will.

But not yet.

His laugh ghosts over your skin, all grit and danger, and then he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, not soft, not gentle. 

A mark. 

A warning. 

A promise.

You hiss, legs tightening around his waist.

“That all you’ve got?” You whisper, lips grazing his temple.

“Not even close,” he growls back.

His mouth moves lower, firing a path down your chest, slow enough to tease, rough enough to bruise and then he’s at your breast.

His tongue is warm when it finally flicks over your nipple but it’s a tease, nothing more. He doesn’t suck, he doesn’t linger, he drags the tip once, wet and slow, before blowing cool air over the sensitive peak. Your back arches, chasing the warmth again, but he pulls back.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your breasts as he grabs and squeezes the other. His thumb brushes your nipple, circling lazily. “So desperate already. I’ve barely touched you.”

You roll your hips against him, dangerous, grinding. His cock slips between your folds, gliding with ease, slick with your want. It’s not enough. Not nearly.

“Maybe I’m bored,” you bite, breath shaky. “You do a lot of talking…”

His hand comes up to your throat so fast it makes you gasp. Not squeezing but holding in that way that screams, possessive. Mine. The pressure is light. Controlled. His thumb strokes just under your jaw.

“You want me to stop talking?” He asks, his voice is quiet now. Dangerous. “Then stop fucking playing.”

You don’t.

Of course you don’t.

You reach between your bodies, take his cock in hand, fat, hot, pulsing in your grip and rub it through your folds again, relishing in the slow motions, never letting him in. His breath catches and his eyes flicker, darkening.

You press your lips to his ear.

“Beg.”

His hand tightens slightly at your throat enough to remind you. To make you feel it.

Then he spits.

Right into your mouth.

Your lips part on instinct, eyes fluttering, heat pooling between your thighs like a flood and you catch it, swallow it, moan into the taste of him.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

And then he kisses you.

Finally. 

It’s not sweet, not soft and not anything close to forgiveness.

It’s war.

Your teeth clash, your tongues tangle. He grabs your jaw to hold you still, to devour you properly, like your mouth is the only place he’s ever needed to be. Your hands roam, greedy and bold. You rake your nails across his chest, drag them over his ribs, press into the swell of his arms where muscle flexes under skin. You want to feel him everywhere.

He’s hard between your thighs, twitching with need, and still not inside you.

“You kiss like you lost,” you gasp when you finally break apart.

“And you talk like you want me to ruin you,” he snaps.

His hand twists into your hair, dragging your head back to bare your throat. He licks down it, always slow and possessive, letting his tongue claim the territory of your neck. Then he bites at the space just below your ear.

He returns to your breast, this time unforgiving. His mouth latches, wet and hot, tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks hard, drawing a cry from your lips. His hand works the other one, fingers pinching, rolling, tugging just enough to make you squirm. The nerves light up under his touch, your thighs tightening again as your hips rock into him.

“Kylian—”

“Say it right.”

You grin, breathless, tipping your hips forward again, letting his cock slip over your clit. Grinding and smiling through blissful foreplay. 

“You mean daddy?”

His groan is husky, low in his chest, like something feral just snapped its leash. He pulls your hair harder, your head tilting back further. His free hand is still on your breast, still teasing, and when he kisses you again, it’s all heat and punishment.

He doesn’t let you breathe between it, mouth owning yours, tongue plunging deeper, teeth biting your bottom lip when you pull away. Your moans come through the kiss, muffled and frantic. Your fingers dig into his back, nails painting red trails down his brown skin. He grunts when you hit a sweet spot near his shoulder blade, and you do it again. Again and Again. You love the feeling, the way his hips jerk forward, cock pressing harder against you.

“You want it rough?” He rasps. “Keep acting like a brat. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

You don’t stop grinding. You grind harder tilting your hips until his cock is nestled perfectly at your entrance, teasing the stretch, not letting him in.

“Maybe I want to see you lose control.” You tease.

His hand slips behind you again, fingers gripping your ass, spreading you wide as he lifts you and slams you back down against the counter. The cold marble kisses your spine, a contrast to his burning heat.

He hovers. 

Teasing. 

Not entering.

His eyes trace your body like a man cataloguing the things he owns. You feel embolden under his gaze. Under his worship. Nobody makes you feel empowered in the way Kylian does.

His hands explore every curve of your body. He traces the line of your ribs, your hips, your thighs. Then, finally, he plays with your breast again. He watches your nipple pebble tighter under his gaze and then he stops, eyes staring at them.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers. “I’m gonna wreck you.”

But still, he doesn’t enter, he doesn’t even thrust. Instead, he stays there, thick cock stiff, pulsing against your heat, your body begging in silence.

And god, you love it.

Suddenly, he moves like the decision was never his to make. 

Only instinct. 

Only inevitability.

One minute you’re pinned to the counter, catching your breath in gasps and the next, he’s lifting you again. His strong arms under your thighs, hands gripping your ass, squeezing and spreading your flesh like he’s memorising it. You barely register the motion before your back hits the wall.

Cool. 

Solid. 

Steady.

His mouth finds your neck again, teeth grazing the skin he’s already marked purple and red, and you moan low, deep in your throat, brushing through his soft hair.

But then he drops you, feet cold against the marble and now he’s lowering. Dropping to his knees like he belongs there.

And fuck, maybe he does.

Because the moment his mouth finds your pussy, open, wet and aching, the entire room dissolves. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s famine.

He laps at you like he’s starving, tongue gliding through your folds, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep them wide. You brace yourself against the wall with one hand, the other tangling deep in his curls, grounding yourself to the only thing real.

“God,” you gasp, head thudding back against the plaster. “You’re-fuck-such a fucking show off.”

He moans into you. The vibration shoots straight up your spine. Then he pulls back, lips messy with you, eyes gleaming.

“Say that again when you’re crying.”

And he dives back in.

Tongue flicking over your clit in tight circles. Slow. Then faster. Then slow again. The teasing matches the rhythm of your pulse, all heat and torment and unbearable pleasure. One of his hands slides up, soft fingers pressing into your stomach, holding you steady. The other trails under your ass, lifting your hips just enough so he can tilt you toward him, burying his mouth and nose even deeper.

You roll your hips, grind down on his tongue, desperate and his mouth smirks against you.

“That’s it,” he mutters, voice rasping, open mouthed against your clit. “Show me how much you want it."

You whimper. Your hand tightens in his hair. Your other hand slides down, finding his jaw, cradling it. His lashes flutter at the touch. It’s obscene, the way he looks up at you while devouring your cunt like he’s proud of how wrecked you are.

“Look at you,” he murmurs again, licking slow and long. “All that mouth earlier. Where’d it go now?”

“Fuck you—”

“Soon.”

Then his fingers join the game, two sliding inside you, curling perfectly, fucking up into that soft, trembling spot until your knees begin to shake. The stretch is so familiar it feels like coming home and yet the pressure is unbearable, precise, like he’s trying to write his name inside you. 

Wet sounds echo between your thighs, every thrust of his fingers smooth and crude, made worse by the way your body clenches tight, greedy, desperate. You can barely breathe, your moans break apart at the edges, half formed and high pitched, pulled from someplace deeper than speech. 

You're close, so close and he knows it, mouth curling into a smirk against your clit as your grip in his hair turns frantic.

“Kylian—”

“Come for me, baby.”

The pressure breaks.

No warning. 

No shame. 

Only need.

You shatter against his mouth, thighs shaking, cunt pulsing around his fingers and mouth, loud, helpless sounds spilling from your lips. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop. He keeps going. Chasing that high with you. He holds you there, pinned to the wall by your pleasure as you ride it out, grinding into him like the world’s ending under your feet.

When the wave finally starts to crest, he pulls back just enough to speak.

“We’re not done.”

You shudder. 

Your thighs still twitch. 

Your pulse thunders in your ears.

“I want more,” he says. “I want to see how many times I can make you fall apart.”

There’s no time to answer. He replies for you in worship.

He kisses your thighs, gentle and leisure now, the contrast like fire and ice. Up, up, tracing adoration. The dip of your hip. The valley of your stomach. Then he’s standing again, body heat flooding yours.

His lips find your nipple again, wet, open mouthed, tongue swirling as he sucks you back into him. You moan again, spine arching, hand gripping his arm for balance. His teeth graze the peak and he pulls back only when you’re gasping, eyes glassy.

He tilts your face up. Fingers under your chin, thumb brushing your jaw, gentle, almost tender. His eyes are molten. Heavy with lust. Dark with promise.

“Open.”

You do. 

Instinct. 

Worship.

And he spits into your mouth.

Slow. Controlled. Like he means it.

The drop hits your tongue hot, thick, sliding past your bottom lip. Your throat works as you swallow, but not fast enough a thread escapes, glistening down your chin. You don’t wipe it.

You moan, soft and ruined and before the sound even leaves your mouth, his lips crash into yours.

The kiss is carnage.

Tongues colliding, lips moulding, spit smooth between you. He licks your bottom lip then bites it, pulls it between his teeth, then sucks it back into his mouth like he’s trying to consume you.

He kisses like punishment. 

Like prayer.

He kisses you like he needs to know how you taste when it’s all his, the breath you give him, the moans you lose, the mess on your chin.

You kiss back with the same fire, chasing the flavour of yourself on his tongue. Your lips slide, stick, catch. You suck his tongue into your mouth like it’s his cock, and he groans deep in his chest.

His hand shifts from your jaw to your throat. He squeezes, tight, precise, just enough to make your breath catch, your knees wobble. And while you’re gasping, a trail of drool slips from your lip again, slow and shining.

He doesn’t move.

He watches it fall, then brings his thumb to your chin, he rubs it through the mess, smearing it across your lips, down your chin, to your neck and then back up, into your mouth, feeding it back to you.

“So pretty when you drool for me,” he whispers, thumb dragging slow over your tongue now.

You suck his thumb without breaking eye contact. You moan around it. He groans. The hand around your throat tightens, the pressure screaming ownership in the way you like. 

“You don’t even know what you do to me.”

But you do.

And you use it.

Your hips roll again, slow against his cock, still trapped between your bodies, still thick and angry and glistening at the tip.

“You ready to beg yet?” He growls, voice rough at your throat.

“You first,” you whisper, lips grazing his, spit slick and smiling. “You’re the one dripping.”

He laughs, low and dangerous, the sound vibrating in your chest through his palm. His hand slides back to your jaw, firm, selfish and he leans close, licking once more into your open mouth before dragging his tongue across your cheek.

“Then get on your knees.”

You smile, slow, smug and defiant.

But you obey.

You lower yourself with intention, never breaking eye contact. You want him to see it, the way you choose this, the way you sink at his feet, the way your thighs spread instinctively as your knees hit the cold floor.

“You like giving orders,” you murmur, looking up through your lashes. “Bet you’d come just from watching me listen.”

He huffs a laugh, cock twitching above you, flushed, fat, wet at the tip.

“I don’t come from watching,” he says. “I come from that pretty little mouth.”

You hum, almost laugh. Then lean in, slow, slow, so fucking slow.

You lick a long stripe from base to tip, tongue flat and wide, tasting him like he’s already yours. He groans, a low, involuntary sound that has your core clenching. Then you swirl your tongue around the head, featherlight, teasing. Your lips barely part.

“You sound needy,” you whisper.

“Keep going,” he growls. “See how needy I get.”

So you do.

You wrap your lips around the head and suck, slow at first, hollowing your cheeks, tongue rolling under him. You pull off with a wet pop, then do it again. Slower. Lazier. Eyes locked to his. 

Always. 

He looks down at you, watches you like a man possessed. Jaw tight. Hands pressed against the walls, barely resisting the urge to grab you, to control you. His chest is heaving now, golden abs flexing as your mouth works him, sloppy, slow and cruel.

You take more. Inch by inch. Drool spills over your lips, slides down your chin.

You love it.

You spit on the tip, let it slide down the shaft, and then pump him once with your hand before taking him back in. Deeper this time. Your throat stretches. Your lips stretch. Your eyes flutter, just once.

“Fuck,” he hisses, voice wrecked. “You want to choke on it that bad?”

You nod around him. Muffled, wet, a mess. His cock twitches on your tongue and then he grabs your hair.

Fistful. 

Rough. 

Controlling.

He holds your head in place and fucks into your mouth once, sharp, shallow, enough to make you gag. Your eyes water instantly, but you don’t move, you don’t look away. You look up at him, lips stretched wide, spit kissing your chin, and you moan.

It’s filth. 

It’s divine.

“Look at you,” he groans. “Mouth so full. Drooling like you were made for this.”

He fucks into your mouth again, shallow thrusts, controlled. Your throat tightens around him, and you choke once more, tears catching in your lashes. He hisses. Tightens his grip in your hair. Guides your mouth over him like he’s using your body to stay sane.

And you give it to him. 

All of it.

Your tongue works with him, your jaw aches, spit spilling down your chin, over your chest, dripping down your perky breast. You’re not just sucking. You’re offering. Every gag, every whimper, every filthy, wet sound is a love letter.

You pull back to breathe, gasping, and then you smile, mouth ruined, chin wet, lips red and slick.

“You’re shaking,” you murmur.

“I’m close.”

You slide your tongue under the head again, press kisses down the shaft, then take him in one last time, deep. He groans, loud and raw, hips jerking.

Then he pulls back.

Hard. 

Sudden. 

You fall back on your heels, panting, your face a dripping mess, eyes wide, lips open.

“Kylian—”

He looks down at you, flushed and sweating, jaw clenched like it hurts.

“You and that pretty face,” he growls, cock gleaming with spit, everything you gave and aching in his grip. “I can’t come in your mouth.”

You blink, dazed. Smirking.

“Why not?”

He leans closer down, thumb dragging your spit across your lower lip.

“Because I need to come inside you.”

He doesn’t speak.

He lifts you back up.

One sharp motion, muscle tightening under skin, your breath caught in your throat as your back hits the wall again, this time with no teasing, no pause. His hands grip the back of your thighs, spreading you wide, holding you up like you’re weightless. His cock nudges your entrance, fat, hot, impossibly hard, sliding through the slick mess between your folds.

You gasp. 

He groans. 

Your foreheads touch.

“Ready?” He rasps.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop now.”

And then he thrusts.

The stretch is brutal, instant and all consuming. You cry out, loud and raw, as he fills you in one hard, punishing stroke. 

No warning. 

No buildup. 

Just in.

So deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“Fuck—”

“Take it,” he orders. “Take all of it.”

You do. You have to. There's no room for refusal, only surrender. You cling to him, arms around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders like you’ll fall if you let go. Your legs wrap tight around his waist, heels locking at his back.

He fucks you against the wall, hard, fast, relentless. The slap of skin echoes off the marble and glass. Your moans bounce back at you, joined by his heavy panting, the low curse of French under his breath each time he drives back in.

Your head falls back, hitting the wall with a dull thud, mouth open on a gasp.

You feel him everywhere.

Your breasts bounce with every thrust, sweat trickling down the valley between them. Your toes curl in the air. Your nails scratch down his back, leaving more streaks of red. He grunts with every drag of your pussy over his cock.

“You’re perfect like this,” he mutters. “Tight little pussy holding me like you never want me to leave.”

“Then don’t,” you whisper. “Stay. Fuck-stay inside.”

And he does.

He stops. 

He’s buried deep inside, cock pulsing, both of you panting, dizzy. You whimper at the loss of rhythm, the need but he shushes you, still holding you against the wall. Hands firm, spreading your ass cheeks with a new sense of desperation. 

“Shh. Let me see you.”

Then he leans in, mouth hot, tongue dragging over the curve of your breast. He kisses it first. Soft. Wet. Then sucks your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking, lips sucking, his hands kneading your ass like he’s learning your body all over again.

Your breath stutters. You tremble in his grip.

“God,” you moan, voice wrecked. “Don’t stop…”

“I can feel you twitching around me,” he growls, mouth still on your breast. “So sensitive already. You gonna come just from this?”

You might.

Because it’s too much. His cock, heavy and thick, still inside you. His mouth, sucking marks into your chest. His body, holding you against the wall like it’s effortless. The sweat. The sounds. The scent of sex hanging hot in the air.

The room is filled with it , the wet sounds of your pussy around him, the slap of skin, the echo of moans and breathless curses. Your heart beats wild in your throat. Every nerve in your body is aflame.

He kisses across your chest again, nipple to sternum to collarbone, his lips trailing spit and heat, his tongue dragging slow, like he’s memorising the taste of your skin.

You look down at him, and he looks up at you, eyes dark, mouth swollen, cheeks flushed.

“You’re fucking mine,” he says. “Every inch of you. You understand?”

You nod. Barely. Dizzy.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you breathe.

He grins, cocky, wild, wrecked, that deep dimple of his loud and bold, and then he starts to move again.

Slow at first. Deep. Angled. Rolling his hips so you feel every inch of him drag inside you. In. Out. In. Out.

You cry out, you can’t help it, your head falling to his shoulder as he starts walking. Still inside you. Still fucking you, carrying you like a man on a mission. Your arms wrap tighter around his neck. Your body bounces slightly with every step and he always guides himself back inside you.

“Where are we-?”

“Bed. You wanted power,” he growls. “Now you get to feel what it’s like to be owned.”

He crosses the threshold, your back brushing the hallway wall once more as he adjusts you in his grip, his cock never leaving you, his lips never far from your skin. Another kiss to your neck. Another nip to your breast. Your body clings, tight, pulsing around him.

You feel it coming again, that crest. That unbearable edge. But he slows. Cruelly.

You gasp.

“Tease,” you whisper against his throat.

“You love it,” he says, pushing open the bedroom door with his shoulder.

And then he enters the room with you still in his arms, cock buried deep, breath hot on your ear. The door closes behind you and he carries you straight to the bed.

Still inside you. 

Still pulsing. 

Still his.

The bedroom is dim, the air thick with heat and hunger. You can barely catch your breath, lips parted against his shoulder, your body trembling from how long he’s kept you teetering.

And then he sets you down.

Not gentle. Not harsh. Just deliberate. You land on your back and he turns you over to your stomach. The second you shift, you feel him again, cock slipping out, dragging your wetness with it. Your cheek rests on the cool sheets, legs folding under you, your ass raises and spreads open by the angle. 

“Stay like that,” he says behind you. Voice low. Final. Worship and wreckage bound into one.

You hear the sound of his breath, ragged and uneven. The sharp inhale as he looks at you from behind, taking in the arch of your back, the wetness between your thighs, your arms stretched in front of you.

“God, look at you,” he mutters. “Laid out for me. All for me.”

“Then come take it,” you rasp, cheeky, shaking your ass in the air, inviting him for more. “Unless you’re too tired.”

The growl that rips from his chest shakes the room. And then he grabs your wrists. He pulls them back. Behind your back, pinning them with one hand, your shoulder blades arching, your tits pressing into the sheets. His other hand finds the base of your spine, guiding, pushing your arch deeper into in perfect position. You whimper, a sound between a gasp and a moan.

“You don’t get to talk,” he says, leaning over you now, chest grazing your back, cock poised at your entrance. “You get to take.”

And then he slams in.

You scream.

He plunges into you, deep, fast, brutal, dragging a sound from your throat so raw it nearly splits you in two. Your body jolts forward but his grip keeps you locked in place. Pinned. Owned. There’s nowhere to go but deeper into it.

He sets a rhythm. 

Hard. 

Vicious. 

Measured.

Your hands are trapped, your face pressed to the mattress, your ass lifted and spread with every stroke. His hips slam into you again and again, the sound lethal, echoing off the walls like applause. Skin to skin, sweat to sweat, your body shakes.

“So tight,” he pants, fucking harder. “So fucking good. You were made for this-weren’t you?”

You can’t answer, you can’t even speak. You can only moan, your throat going hoarse as he fills you to the hilt with every thrust. He leans over, the full weight of his chest against your back, and suddenly it’s not just fucking anymore. It’s enveloping. Surrounding. Suffocating in the best way. His breath hits your ear.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “Every sound. Every inch. Say it.”

“I’m—fuck—Kylian—”

He slams into you, so deep you see stars and a heated smack hits you a second later.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you sob. “All of me. Yours.”

His hand snakes under your body, hot and sure and grabs your breast. He squeezes hard, palm rough over your nipple, rubbing circles into your flesh while his cock drives into you like punishment and praise all in one.

You break.

Your whole body trembles. Toes curling off the mattress. Nails digging into your palms. Mouth open on a moan you can’t bite back.

He doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, through your second orgasm and into the next build, muttering filth into your ear, biting your shoulder, squeezing your tit, grinding his hips with the kind of power that makes the bed frame groan.

“Come again,” he breathes. “Give it to me. All of it.”

Your body obeys before your mind catches up.

You unravel under him again, loud, feral, wrecked. The kind of orgasm that shatters your name. Your thighs twitch violently. Your eyes roll back. You sob into the sheets, wet and open and utterly his.

“That’s it,” he groans. “That’s my girl.”

And still, he doesn’t pull out.

Still buried to the base, twitching with the threat of his own release, his jaw clenched tight behind you. His hand leaves your wrist just long enough to wrap around your throat from behind, tilting your face to the side so he can kiss your cheek, your jaw, your lips, anything he can reach while you tremble under him.

He presses his lips to your ear.

“You good?” he asks, low and rough.

“Mmm,” you breathe, spent. “Too good.”

He smiles against your skin. Then bites your earlobe.

And starts to move again.

Slow, at first. Rolling his hips. Savoring it.

But then he slips out and doesn’t come in again. He leans up, lifts you with him. Your body limp, shaking. Still impaled. He carries you once more, this time not to the wall. But up, deeper into the bed.

Because this isn’t the end.

It’s only the beginning of your destruction.

He carries you deeper into the bed, arms still under your thighs, cock sandwiched in your folds like puzzle, your body limp from release. He moves slow now, the kind of slowness that feels like sermons. When he reaches the center of the mattress, he pauses, just long enough to press a kiss to your shoulder, your collarbone, your temple.

Then he crawls around you, facing you and he lays back. Chest heaving. Skin glowing. Back flush to the headboard. His legs stretch out in front of him. And you know what he wants, what you want.

You crawl over to him, trembling and straddle his hips. Your thighs ache, body drenched in sweat, cunt still dripping from the three orgasms he forced out of you. But you’re not done. You won’t be, not until you watch him break.

You rise to your knees, one hand reaching between your bodies. His cock, slick and flushed, twitches under your touch. He hisses, head tipping back against the wall behind him.

“You sure?” he rasps, eyes dazed. “You can take more?”

You smile.

“I want to feel you,” you whisper. “I want to see you fall apart.”

Then, slow, slow like sin, you guide him in. Your fingers wrap around the base, angling him just right. You hover for a beat, the swollen head of his cock pressing against your entrance and then you sink.

One long, sweet, aching descent. Inch by inch. You take him back inside, walls stretched, hips trembling, until your ass hits his thighs and you’re filled, completely.

“Fuck-” he groans, hands gripping your hips like he might lose himself right there. “You feel-Jesus-you feel unreal.”

You hold still, watching him. His eyes are locked to yours. No cockiness now. No command. Just awe. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the world keeping him together.

You rock your hips once, slow, rolling. He gasps.

“Let go,” you murmur. “I’ve got you.”

You press down through your feet, thighs burning, and start to move. Up, then down. A slow rhythm, measured, teasing. Each time you rise, his cock slides nearly out, then back in with a wet sound that makes his head thump against the headboard again.

“Fuck, baby-”

You keep going. Relentless in your purpose now. It’s your turn to destroy. Your hands trace up his chest, sweaty, hard, beautiful and he grabs your waist, grounding himself in your motion. But he doesn’t guide you, he doesn’t control, he holds on.

You lean forward and his mouth finds your breast like a lifeline. Lips open, tongue dragging over your nipple before sucking you into his mouth. God, he loves your tits. He moans around you deep, broken and his hips twitch beneath you.

You ride him harder.

Sweat drips between your breasts. Your thighs tremble again, your pussy tightening around him with every grind. You feel the way he pulses inside you, the way he’s losing it. And when you look down, you see it; eyes fluttering, mouth open around your breast, brows furrowed like he’s in pain from the pleasure.

“You’re gonna come,” you whisper, breathless. “Right here. In me.” He moans, loud now, teeth scraping your skin, hand flying to your ass to grip it tight. “Give it to me.”

You rock faster, grinding your hips, letting him hit deep, your pussy clenching again, milking him. His hands spread across your back, one gripping the nape of your neck, pulling you down to him, the other clawing at your waist like he needs something to hold when the world gives out.

And then it happens.

He shatters.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” he cries out, loud, feral.

He thrusts up once, deep and stays there, buried to the root, his cock twitching violently as he spills into you. You feel it, hot, thick, so much and you moan softly, lovingly, because this is what you wanted. His pleasure. His undoing.

He buries his face in your chest, biting down on your breast as he rides it out, feeling your slow grinds wreck him more, muffling a moan so raw it trembles through you.

You hold him.

Hands cupping his face now, guiding him through it. His body jerks. His thighs shake. He whimpers once, quiet and vulnerable and you press your forehead to his.

“That’s it,” you whisper. “That’s my good boy.”

And you kiss.

Not rough. Not rushed.

This time, it’s slow.

A thank you. A confession. A soft worship between ruined mouths.

Your hands frame his face, stroking the curve of his jaw, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, fingers brushing over dimples that kiss his face. His fingers press into your back, steady and firm. He breathes you in and then leans in again, lips brushing yours like a question.

This kiss tastes like each other and the last tremble of ecstasy still lingering in your spine.

Your tongues meet again, gentle now, languid but the filth doesn’t leave. It lingers in the shared heat, the parted mouths, the soft moan that escapes you when his spit mixes with yours, slow and deliberate. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, wet and slow, and lets it go with a tenderness that feels filthy just for how loving it is.

You exhale into him.

He swallows it.

Spit drips your chins, not messy this time, not ravenous, intimate and shared. When he pulls back slightly, a thread connects your tongues, shining in the dim light. He watches it fall, then kisses you again before it can break, deeper now, filthy in its devotion.

His cock still rests inside you, thick and warm, your bodies still joined and sticky. You feel him leaking, slow, syrupy, the evidence of everything he gave you slipping out and down your thighs.

Neither of you moves.

You breathe together.

You be together.

His forehead presses yours. His arms lock around you, pulling you closer by waist. His voice a whisper you almost miss, he exhales like he’s found peace for the first time in hours.

“You took my mind off the game,” he whispers.

“Good,” you say. “Because all I wanted… was to make you forget.”

He nods, smiling, eyes closed, voice hoarse.

“You ruined me.” You thank.

“You liked it.”

“I fucking loved it.”

And you kiss again. 

Quiet. 

Intimate. 

Infinite.

You don’t know how long it’s been.

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.

Your body is still buzzing, skin damp, thighs sore, pussy warm and leaking. You’d collapsed on top of him after the kiss, still joined, your heart syncing with his in silence. There were no words. Only the echo of breath, the slow return of your names to each other’s mouths.

Now, you step into the bathroom on shaky legs.

The light is low. Gold and soft, like the end of a song.

The bath is full.

Steam curls in the air. Bubbles glisten across the water’s surface. Kylian is already there, naked, legs stretched out, one arm draped along the edge. He looks up when you enter, and the look he gives you...

It’s not lust.

It’s love.

It’s the kind of gaze that empties you of everything else, shame, doubt, memory and leaves only this.

“Come here,” he whispers softly.

Your legs ache, but you move. He watches every step, the way your thighs press together, the bruises already bloomed along your hips, the red flush across your chest and neck.

You ease into the water, a hiss escaping your lips when the heat touches sore muscles. His arms reach for you instinctively, pulling you into his lap. You curl there. Knees drawn up beside his hips. Your head resting in the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close like something precious. Something his.

“You okay?” He asks quietly.

You nod, breath warm against his skin.

“More than okay.”

He hums, a soft sound, content and dips the washcloth into the water. You feel the warmth first, then the gentle drag of cloth over your shoulder. Down your arm. Across your chest. He moves slow. Tender. Washing you like he’s unmaking the sins he committed earlier. Like he’s thanking your body for enduring him. Like he doesn’t want to miss a single inch.

His fingers trail through suds. His hands cup your breast just long enough to rinse away the remnants of spit, sweat, and sex. But there’s no lust in the touch now. Just respect.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, rinsing your thigh. “I don’t tell you that enough.”

You don’t speak. You lean into him, eyes fluttering shut as he lifts your arm to clean beneath it, as he kisses the top of your shoulder, the curve of your jaw.

You reach for the cloth next.

He doesn’t resist. He leans back against the tub, letting you take him in. And god, he’s beautiful.

It's him. Against the tub, arms stretched wide along the porcelain, eyes heavy-lidded and barely open. Cheekbones soft and sharp. All lean muscle and golden skin. Even in exhaustion, it's that dimpled, lazy smile that only appears when he’s wrecked and happy that undones you.

You watch him through the steam, his chest rising and falling slow. He's content, stunning in his stillness, like love itself made him softer.

You run the cloth down his sternum. Over his abs. Across the V of his hips. You trail it down his thigh, then back up again. When you reach his shoulders, you set the cloth aside and use your hands instead.

You... touch.

Tracing the lines of his arms. The cut of his jaw. The permanent dimple on his cheek. You map him again. This time not in desperation, but in awe.

“Thank you,” he whispers suddenly.

You blink and look up at him.

“For what?”

His eyes search yours, soft, bare.

“For letting me fall apart,” he says. “And for putting me back together.”

You smile, heart stuttering.

“Always.”

You kiss him then, slow and quiet, your lips tasting of warm water and peace. His hand slides up your spine. Yours rests on his chest, right over his heart.

Outside the bathroom, the world still spins. But here, in the heat, in his arms there is no game, no loss, no crowd. There is only you. And him. And the silence that says, you've already won.

[theambitiouswoman]

Force vs. Flow

Force (Pushing, Struggle, Control)

Resistance based

Requires constant effort & willpower

Feels draining & exhausting

Fear driven (fear of failure, scarcity, or lack)

Rigid and outcome focused

Creates tension and obstacles

Chasing, forcing, over planning

Often leads to burnout or frustration

Flow (Ease, Alignment, Surrender)

Energy moves naturally and effortlessly

Feels light, expansive and fulfilling

Rooted in trust and intuition

Flexible and adaptive

Inspired action instead of forced effort

Aligned with purpose & joy

Things fall into place with ease

More creativity, synchronicity & abundance

When you operate in force, you’re trying to control everything out of fear or impatience. When you shift into flow, you trust, align and attract what’s meant for you. Flow doesn’t mean no action—it means inspired, aligned action that feels good in your soul & works with life, not against it.

[rulesofdisorder]

i still see team cap vs team ironman discourse on tiktok and the main reason people are team ironman is because bucky killed tony’s parents (which. isn’t what the teams are about, it’s about the sokovia accords but whatever) and actually. bucky killing tony’s parents is proof that team cap is the correct side.

because steve’s main issue with the sokovia accords is that in signing them the avengers “surrender their right to choose” and if they sign them, they will be essentially owned by the government. and steve says that the government is “run by people with agendas and agendas change.”

how does bucky killing the starks come into this? howard worked for the government. he worked for shield, and thus worked unknowingly for hydra, for years. until one day hydra decided that howard was a loose end that needed taken care of. shield’s (hydra’s) agenda changed. and when their agenda changed they sent in the winter soldier to kill howard and maria.

howard and maria’s death are directly caused by hydras control of the government. if the avengers signed the accords and something like the hydra infestation happened again, then they could be the ones sent in to neutralize these kind of “threats”. but threats to who? that’s the problem with the accords. bucky is an example, albeit an extreme example, of what the avengers could be made to do if they sign the accords. the winter soldier neutralized the threat of howard stark at the command of hydra, who had infiltrated the government. because hydra’s agenda included howard until it didn’t and that meant he had to die.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

― bnd & edging vs overstim .ᐟ ❁｡ﾟ･°

౨ৎ☕ warnings ⋆.ೃ࿔ : 18+, mayhaps edging and overstim i dunno just maybe!! mentions of subspace, probably typos forgive me 🙏/ wc: 810 / masterlist / divider

˚ ༘⋆｡➳ sungho

sungho prefers edging, his confidence is boosted when he can hold out for a while. he has the longest stamina out of the five, so he can handle edging for a while. with overstim, the desperation makes him lose grip on his mind, which is something he'd only want to experience on special occasions. he prefers to be lucid during sex so that he can pay attention to how you look, what you're doing, and what you're saying. he prides himself on being obedient even if he's mouthy, and it's more difficult for him to follow your instructions when his mind is super hazy, which is often is during overstim.

˚ ༘⋆｡�� riwoo

riwoo prefers overstim. out of the five, he likes being in subspace the most and slips into it the fastest and the deepest. he likes being in your care and finds it romantic to surrender to you in that sense. during a lot of intimate sessions, he doesn't want to think outside of doing what you instruct. however, it's hard for him to relax during edging. he's so on edge, sensitive to every single touch and holding his breath wondering if this time you'll let him cum, but when you pull away he's so disappointed. he finds it fun, but it's not his favorite of the two. he likes the pain-pleasure of overstim more. similarly to edging, he's sensitive to every touch and word you say, but he gets to cum this way, it doesn't feel like he's holding his breath waiting for relief. he likes wondering if you'll have mercy on him and stop, or if you're going to work another one out of him, the lack of control over either is comforting to him.

˚ ༘⋆｡➳ jaehyun

jaehyun prefers overstim. to jaehyun, edging feels like a punishment. he'd much rather be sensitive from cumming than desperate from being on edge. edging would make him super frustrated, borderlining on not in a good way, so even as a punishment, it's not something you'd wanna keep up for very long. however, jaehyun always wants to be the #1 Best Boy, so he would try his best to take the punishment, but it's not long at all before he's begging, promising that he's learnt his lesson and deserves to cum, and he's cute, it's easy to give in when he's begging like that. jaehyun also just loves overstim. one orgasm is almost never enough to satisfy him, he'll immediately beg to keep going even if he has to do all the work because you're tired. he has stamina for overstim but not so much for edging. overstim is more likely to send him into subspace than edging, and he likes the haziness of subspace, the feeling of being brainless outside of following your instructions and being a good puppy. he's so satisfied when he's boneless and milked dry from an overstim session, whereas with edging, it takes him awhile to calm down after finally cumming, and if you overstim him immediately after edging him, it's a lot for him to handle, almost too much, and it takes a while for him to come out of subspace.

˚ ༘⋆｡➳ taesan

taesan prefers edging. he has a very love/hate relationship with edging. similar to jaehyun, it sometimes feels like a punishment, but he's not one to back down from a challenge. he can hold out the longest following sungho. however, the second you overstim him, his brain turns to static. the pain-pleasure is difficult for him to handle. he'd have to be in a mood where he's ready to be vulnerable for you, because overstim will definitely send him into subspace, and he doesn't want to be in subspace every session. going back to earlier, he's not one to back down from a challenge, so he's holding back pleas and only squeezing his eyes shut/grunting when you deny him. you will get him to the point where he's giving up and begging to cum, but it won't come without a fight for sure because taesan just enjoys putting up a fight. he wants to be able to (lovingly) brag about how good he is for you.

˚ ༘⋆｡➳ leehan

leehan honestly doesn't have a preference. similar to sungho and taesan, he likes seeing how long he can last during edging before he feels like the desperation to cum is driving him insane, but he also likes the brainless feeling that comes with being worked past his limit. he just likes being your sub, he doesn't care how you decide to use him. more than anything, he just wants you to praise him, either for holding back so well or for cumming so much for you. he also has pretty good stamina, but less than sungho and taesan, but even when he's tired, he'd wanna keep messing around if you do. he's just a chill guy,,

bunny and i agree that jaehyun would just be a big baby during overstim and edging so we think maybe he's the problem?

[crimsondinnerparty]

Hannibal, the Cannibal, and the Man Who Made Him Starve

Hannibal Lecter’s entire identity is built on the concept of consumption—of others, of experiences, of power. He devours not just bodies, but lives, souls, and control. It’s what makes him so terrifying: he doesn’t just kill, he consumes his victims in the most profound and intimate way possible. They become part of him, swallowed whole, stripped of their humanity and reformed into his idea of *art*. Hannibal is the **ultimate predator**, and his hunger is insatiable.

But then, Will Graham enters his life, and Hannibal finds himself faced with something he cannot consume. Will Graham isn’t a regular target. He isn’t a piece of art, nor is he someone easily twisted into Hannibal’s vision of humanity. Will is the **mirror**, the one person who sees through Hannibal completely, who resists his manipulation. Will is the exception, and he refuses to be devoured.

The Hunger Begins:-

In Season 1, Hannibal’s interest in Will is almost clinical. He observes Will’s brilliant mind, his sensitivity, his vulnerability, but never truly considers Will as a human being—he sees him more like a **specimen**, someone who could potentially be shaped, remade, or “eaten” in a different sense. He begins to teach Will, **grooming him to be his equal**, but without ever understanding that in doing so, he’s planting the seeds of his own undoing.

Hannibal, used to controlling everything around him, begins to lose that control with Will. He sees Will’s intellect, but more importantly, he sees Will’s ability to feel—to empathize, to understand emotions. Hannibal, who is all about mastering emotions, finds this fascinating, but it’s also something he can’t control. This fascination is the beginning of his hunger, and it’s a hunger that doesn’t easily satiate.

The First Taste of Loss:-

In Season 2, Hannibal’s obsession with Will grows deeper, more personal. It’s no longer just about seeing Will as an extension of his artistic project—Hannibal starts to care. He starts to want Will not just as an intellectual equal, but as someone who can understand him, someone who can *see him* for who he truly is.

But as much as Hannibal desires Will, he also underestimates him. He assumes that he can bend Will to his will—that through manipulation, gaslighting, and a constant game of cat-and-mouse, he can force Will to accept what he’s offering. This plan, however, begins to unravel when Will starts to question his own emotions, his own identity, and his connection to Hannibal. The reversal of roles becomes clear—Will begins to mirror Hannibal’s behavior, pulling Hannibal into his own psychological game.

Hannibal’s first taste of loss comes when Will betrays him. It’s not just an intellectual defeat—it’s personal. The idea that someone he loves could actively turn against him hits Hannibal in a place he’s never acknowledged: his own vulnerability. Will has not only rejected him, but he’s also gone behind his back, actively working against him. For someone like Hannibal, this is a blow to his ego, and the consequences of this loss are more profound than just losing Will.

Self-Denial: The Starvation:-

By the time we reach *Mizumono*, Hannibal is in agony—not just because of Will’s betrayal, but because of the profound emptiness that betrayal leaves behind. He has Will physically within his grasp, but he can’t consume him. Will has already betrayed him, and Hannibal has lost the one person who could have truly understood him.

In this moment, Hannibal chooses to starve.

He doesn’t eat.

He doesn’t kill Will.

And it’s not because he doesn’t want to—Hannibal has never avoided a kill. He’s never been afraid to

The Paradox of Hunger: Control vs. Surrender:-

Hannibal’s relationship with hunger and consumption in relation to Will becomes a paradox. On one hand, he wants to devour Will, to make him his own —to consume him wholly, both mentally and physically. But on the other hand, he wants Will to choose him. He wants Will to surrender, to fall into his arms, to see the world through Hannibal's eyes. He needs Will’s choice, not his subjugation.

This is the starvation that plagues Hannibal—he doesn’t just need to eat Will, he needs Will to give himself freely. Without that, Hannibal is left wanting, unsure of himself for the first time. For someone who prides himself on total control, Will’s rejection and betrayal leaves him in a state of hunger that can’t be easily filled by anything else. He isn’t just starving for Will’s body; he’s starving for Will’s soul, for the deep connection that he thought was within his grasp, but ultimately, Will has pulled away from him.

Final Thoughts: The Longing Never Ends:-

By the end of Mizumono, Hannibal's choice not to kill Will—or, even more telling, to let Will survive his betrayal—marks the culmination of his hunger. He doesn’t just want Will because he’s interesting or because he’s a challenge. No, Will becomes the one thing Hannibal cannot control, the one person who has the power to reject him completely. And that in itself becomes Hannibal’s addiction.

Hannibal doesn’t just eat people—he remakes them. But with Will, he finds himself starved, powerless, and completely consumed by his desire to have Will choose him.

The man who devours lives finds himself starving for the one person who refuses to be consumed—and for Hannibal, that’s the most excruciating fate of all.

[miyamiwu]

Vein and Xia Fei: Song Analysis

A Comparative Analysis of Burning Palace, Bloody Storm, and Rent a Shell

Last edited: Jan. 1, 2025, 15:31

---

Vein’s PV is associated with surveillance and control:

Xia Fei’s PV is full of him being the subject of a camera:

Vein is always looking at Xia Fei:

(In the scene above, only Vein reacted to XF. Liu Xiao didn’t bat an eye at him the entire time.)

One is behind the camera, while the other is in front of it.

Song lyrics analysis under the cut. Lyric videos have been included for your reference. Make sure to turn on the closed captions.

Burning Palace

In the beginning of the song, Xia Fei’s and Vein’s parts are intertwined. Notable lines:

The stubborn guys are fighting back. I’ll let them talk.

Incompetent guys better understand, time to shut your mouth.

Bloody Storm

Don’t lie to me, I see through your delusions If I want to win, I win with open dignity

....

If I don’t claim the throne, who dares to act more arrogant than I? Bow your head, surrender, and hand your kindness over to desire Absolute victory, this duel is already decided I want this world to surge and churn with a bloody storm

...

If I don’t claim the throne, who dares to act more wild than I? Like a blade unsheathed, shedding its disguise and revealing its edge Adore my facade yet dread my madness Slander or praise, it’s futile to think of shaking my scepter

Rent a Shell

To the lights, I lend this exquisite shell To stand in the center and excel I don’t care what it takes to stride Until the others choose to move on Or realize I wouldn’t do it wrong

...

Heaven hasn’t favored me, so I’ll crown myself with this star path Sharp whispers scatter, harsh and loud Like moths diving into flames unbound But I got the flame that can put out all the streams So just back off, back off

...

’Cause I got nothing to lose All I do is pursue

...

No need to guess, this seamless disguise The crowd will forget this masked facade in time Let the wildfire drown the truth’s cry Who will perfectly hide the stolen gaze now? Yeah, I know I gotta run Yeah, fake a smile in calm

Conclusion

Red Lines: Disallowing lies vs Allowing lies

V: Don’t lie to me, I see through your delusions

X: To the lights, I lend this exquisite shell

Orange Lines: Open vs Hidden

V: If I want to win, I win with open dignity

X: I don’t care what it takes to stride

V: Like a blade unsheathed, shedding its disguise and revealing its edge

X: No need to guess, this seamless disguise

V: Adore my facade yet dread my madness

X: The crowd will forget this masked facade in time

Green Lines: Receive vs Pursue

V: If I don’t claim the throne, who dares to act more arrogant than I?

X: Heaven hasn’t favored me, so I’ll crown myself with this star path

V: Bow your head, surrender, and hand your kindness over to desire

X: All I do is pursue

Blue Lines: Absolute Victory vs Nothing to Lose

V: Absolute victory, this duel is already decided

X: ’Cause I got nothing to lose

Pink Lines: Truth by Water vs Lies by Fire

V: I want this world to surge and churn with a bloody storm

X: Let the wildfire drown the truth’s cry

Edit: After rewatching Bloody Storm, I’m no longer sure about Vein being water because…he’s got literal fire in his PV lol. But water/fire association aside, the storm in his song does still represent truth / being true to desire

Violet Lines: On external opinions: Uncaring vs Defensive

V: Slander or praise, it’s futile to think of shaking my scepter

X: Sharp whispers scatter, harsh and loud

X: But I got the flame that can put out all the streams

X: So just back off, back off

In Burning Palace, Vein’s and Feifei’s parts were a celebration of their similarities. However, their individual character songs show how much they contrast each other

Edit: I was wrong. Burning Palace also juxtaposes Vein and Xia Fei. While Xia Fei is telling his enemies to shut their mouths, Vein is letting them talk.

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND ONE: MATCH-UP FOUR

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

BOBA FETT

Anon: Boba The Builder, can he do it? Boba The Builder, yes he can!

@spacetime1969: He grew up in the political game that is the criminal underworld and managed to out manuver all the other groups on Tatooine to take control of the planet. That's not something you can pull off without political and tactical skill.

Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: - Boba Fett was explicitly raised by his father, past Mand'alor Jango Fett, to be the legacy of his own adopted buir, Mand'alor Jaster Mereel; while this training did seem to focus more on the bounty hunting and mercenary aspects of their work, it presumably included many lessons about working with people and negotiating, both of which would come in very handy - Boba is commonly held to be a classic example of a child who grew up in a cultural diaspora, feeling largely disconnected from his Mandalorian roots; given the climate on Mandalore after the Galactic Empire glassed it during the Rebellion Era, his experience is likely representative of many of the surviving Mandalorians, who likely also grew up away from their traditional homeworlds in the sector, possibly even in hiding as in the case of Din Djarin's Covert - speaking of Din Djarin, the strong respect between him and Fett would likely put Fett in good standing with those traditionalists, who would similarly respect Fett's connection to their people as the son of a Foundling, even if he wasn't raised the same way as them - in Legends, Fett's connection with Goran Beviin and his family really brought him more fully back into Mandalorian culture, and in a way that makes a good story to sell to reporters (and readers, breaking the fourth wall a bit there, lol) - finally, Boba DID become Mand'alor in Legends continuity, and one that seemingly enjoyed popular support!

Anon: You know what? Boba Fett was given a bad hand in life. He’s done some bad things. But you know what he’s shown? Drive. Commitment. Determination. Resilience. Willpower. And a shocking refusal to die when he’s gone up against bitches badder than himself. Thats more than some Mandalorian leaders can say for themselves. He keeps going. And it’d be funny. Here IS how Jaster can still win. - Also I think that he would be pretty chill. Cody prolly couldnt be. We’ve seen him rule a city, maybe questionably.. but he was hot doing it. Fennec would probably help him and she’s hot too. Din would prolly be good with it. Cody’s last experience ruling was being involved in the empire and witnessing a horrible execution after negotiating a surrender. He prolly wants nothing to do with it now. And good for him! Let!! Cody!!! Retire!!! This isn’t a popularity contest.

Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: Boba Fett literally was the Mand’alor in legends, and he did a pretty fine job

COMMANDER CODY

Anon: Propaganda for Commander Cody: - Cody was a student of Alpha-17, who in turn had been personally trained by former Mand'alor Jango Fett, giving him a strong training lineage claim to the title - Cody's service as Marshall Commander in the GAR gave him a lot of the diplomatic, organizational, and military experience needed to govern a planet like Mandalore

@spacetime1969: This man has led more people at once than anyone on this list.

Anon: Cody should be Mand'alor because it would be unspeakably sexy

@cha0s-cat: Cody has experience with negotiating from accompanying Obi-Wan, he leads a massive amount of his brothers already. Can recognize when there is a need for negotiations vs a need for violence. This would balance out the majority of the two factions (pacifists/traditionalists) excluding the extremists on either end. And with the amount of chaos that he has to deal with when it comes to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this would probably be relaxing.

@skykind: - Has resisted facism and its attendant police/military state at great personal risk (Bad Batch 2.3), which is apparently necessary to successfully govern Mandalore so long as Death Watch is fully armed and also backed by someone more cunning than their usual leadership (Clone Wars 5.15). - Possesses exceptional leadership and organizational ability from his time as one of the highest-ranked Clone officers of the GAR. The Clone Wars and Bad Batch narratives furthermore present him as Obi-Wan’s peer, so he should be interpreted as equally skilled, wise, kind, and unhinged-in-battle as Obi-Wan. Jury’s out on the sarcasm. - Turns to diplomacy before fighting (Bad Batch 2.3). - Has caught a Jedi’s lightsaber mid-battle at least two times (Clone Wars 1.20 and Revenge of the Sith). This is a very useful skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who keep chucking the darksaber about. - Has returned a lightsaber to a Jedi at least two times. This is a crucial skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who should stop selecting said leader via darksaber acquisition.

[zazaiafe2]

Why you're struggling to shift (and why it's not necessarily your fault)

If you've already tried shifting many times... and you feel like "it's all your fault," read all the way to the end.

You might understand something crucial.

1) The data that changes everything

Study on 14 shifter profiles:

-> Correlations between mental state and success.

🥇 Constantly busy mind:

-0.68 (68%)

🥈 Very self-critical:

-0.51 (51%)

🥉 Constantly checking if you've shifted correctly:

-0.50 (50%)

4) Perfectionism:

-0.16 (16%)

5) Attachment to the DR:

0.01 (+0.1%) (no impact) (surprisingly)

2) Quick interpretation

What’s blocking your shift is NOT your attachment to the DR.

It’s your mind looping, your self-judgment, and your need to do things right.

-> All this feeds the ego, the idea of "me who succeeds" or "me who fails".The "me" of your CR

The more the ego is active, the more you stay attached to your present identity.

Shifting is not a performance.

It is a progressive disidentification.

More than 50% of the shifter sample have a very busy mind at 5 or above

3) Why does it matter?

In the shifting community, we often hear:

"You just have to believe", "You need the right mindset", "Act like you already have it"

-> But this ignores neurocognitive differences and the real effect of identifying with your mental state.

Shifter = not just believing.

It’s about letting go of enough control to no longer be just "you".

The ego is the perception of You of the "self" it's often tied to your physical body , to let go of the ego is to let go of the physical perception of the CR.

4) The mental state at the moment of the shift > Everything else

-> People who shift successfully aren't perfect.

But at the moment of the shift, they:

- Calm the mind

- Release self-judgment

- Gently dissociate from their "self"

They’re no longer in the mindset: “I have to succeed”

-> But in the mindset: “I let it be”

No more ego pressure.

Not a performance. A subtle absence.

5) Obsession,good or bad?

-> Obsession with the DR is often demonized, but it seems to be more nuanced.

If it comes from lack or the need for control -> it reinforces the ego -> blocks.

If it comes from faith, from sincere love -> it dissolves the ego -> helps.

Conclusion: It’s not the emotion alone, but your IDENTIFICATION with it.

An obsession experienced in fusion -> heavy.

An obsession lived through faith -> open.

6) Trauma and shifting

-> Many people who shift “on command” have a traumatic past.

My hypothesis:

Some traumas develop into increased dissociation (shifting = conscious focus elsewhere).

But it all depends on how the trauma was experienced and what coping mechanism the person developed.

Chronic vigilance (hypervigilance) prevents release.

A gentle, controlled dissociation can become a bridge.

7) Emotions and shifting

People often say: “You have to be positive.”

But in reality...

Anger, stress, euphoria = high tension -> blocks.(In most profile not everyone)

Sadness, serenity, surrender = release -> facilitates.

It’s not about “positive vs. negative.”

It’s: “Does this emotion allow my ego to dissolve or to contract?”

Itt also depends on your relationship to the emotion ,it’s not just the emotion itself.

8) Profiles that seem more at risk

-> Those who shift the least are often:

- Obsessed with control

- Want to follow “the right method”

- Constantly check “if it’s working”

These are ego strategies to avoid losing control.

But shifting happens when you’re no longer in control mode.

Often in a state of mental release.

I love listening to asmr fleur to meditate and let go

In short:

-> What blocks you is not your lack of belief.

It’s the attachment to the idea of “you doing things right.”

Shifting = gentle deactivation of your current identity.

No need to be positive.

Just relaxed enough to forget yourself.

9) Tips for each profile

High self-criticism -> Gentle acceptance meditation (not to perform)

Active mind -> Body–mind techniques (hypnosis, sensory floatation)

Perfectionist -> Non-linear, unpredictable rituals

Obsessive -> Redirect toward love for the DR, not fear of failure

Traumatized -> Observe your relationship to ego, vigilance, and the "self"

What is important is to find what suit you too.

Conclusion:

You don’t need to be perfect.

You need to be present.

You don’t need to force the shift.

You just need to create enough inner silence for your ego to stop screaming at you.

(Translated from my TikTok post)

[im-not-a-ghost]

Crush series : how you feel vs how they feel

Note : you can pick different groups if you feel called to. Meaning, you can think of one group for the way you feel and another for the way they feel.

Group 1 - Holy sh*t

How you feel about them - The Magician, The Devil, 4 of cups, The High Priestess

You are extremely attracted to this person to the point you are constantly thinking about them. They have become a vital part of your life and at this point in time, you can't think about anything but being with them. You wish to manifest this person into your life and you are so caught up in your imagination and feelings for them that you may ignore other areas of your life. You energy towards them is very sensual. Clearly, your main focus right now is to seduce this person at all costs. I asked for clarification for the Devil card and got the 6 of cups. The reason why you are so obsessed and attached to them is because you believe this person is your soulmate. They could be but even if it isn't the case, this shouldn't change how you treat this person and how they treat you. They are a human being first and foremost. So treat them as one. You are putting this person on a pedestal, constantly daydreaming and fantasizing about them. You intuitively know that this person is important to you and your journey, you intuitively know they are here for a good reason and you may fear losing them which urges you to act in anyway possible. You may be communicating a lot with them, making yourself known and seen, trying to get their attention. Be careful not to get too caught up in this. You may be receiving messages about this person in tarot readings. You may be a reader yourself. You are definitely using your psychic abilities to your advantage in this situation. Your energy feels extremely powerful and addicting I must say. You are standing in your feminine power, being the baddest B in town and making sure that they know who they're dealing with. You may not directly express to them that you care but rather use subbtle ways to show them your interest. For some of you, I feel like this thing you have going on is kind of a behind the scenes thing.

How they feel about you - The Emperor, 2 of pentacles, 10 of cups, 4 of swords

This person knows what you're doing. They know how you feel. They know your intentions and they feel in full control of the situation. They are extremely happy about the way things are going because they don't have to do a thing. They have you all figured out. They may be enjoying this a little too much and playing this game of push and pull with you. But little do they know that you are aware of this and are more in control of the situation than they think. They are interested in you to some extent but they might not be as into you as you are with them. This person is more wary when it comes to expressing their emotions and showing interest in someone. They voluntarily hold back and refrain from interacting with you. I asked for a clarifier for the 4 of swords and got the knight of pentacles. This person is holding back because they need time to study this connection and to trust you. They are going at their own pace. They also may be busy with other responsibilities which don't allow them to indulge fully in this connection. They're indeed playing with you, not because they want to take advantage of you but because they feel playful towards you and your energy makes them think that you're okay with it, that you can handle it. This person is currently more focused on their own well being and satisfaction. They may go back and forth with you, sometimes interacting and sometimes acting like a ghost. If that is something that doesn't sit right with you, you should make your boundaries known to this person. This person may be afraid to hand over control and surrender to the connection. They can be doubting you and your intentions, hesitating between focusing on themselves or giving you a chance because they are currently doing very well in their personal life and they don't want that to be ruined. They are being protective of their space and want to make sure you don't know what their thoughts or feelings are.

Shufflemancy : Stray kids - Chk chk Boom, Danny Worsnop - I got bones

Group 2 - Peace

How you feel about them - Queen of swords, the Magician, Emperor, 9 of cups, 4 of wands

You are very protective of this person because you consider them to be your future partner. You dream of being in a committed relationship with this person and you are willing to put in the work to be in this person's life and make this dream a reality. You are working hard to embody the best version of yourself and manifest this connection. You want to appear under your best light in front of them so you pay a lot of attention to the way you communicate around them, how you act, how you sit. You want to impress them with your skills and prove them that you are trustworthy, independent, mature, confident. You may dream about this person a lot. You may have clearly stated to this person that you liked them but you haven't shown them the full extent of your feelings and intentions. A part of you may be fearing rejection so you try to be careful about the amount of emotion you show them. You don't want to scare them. You wish to remain cool, calm and collected for this to be going well. You really want to build solid foundations with this person so you are taking your time with them. You may be fearing that this person is trying to manipulate you. You may be afraid of ruining the chemistry you have because of past experiences. But I really see you standing in your power and confidently interacting with this person in a very respectful and classy way. Your ways are very honorable and I can definitely feel your maturity here. You don't want to rush this process and risk losing this person. I don't know why but I picked up on someone expressing their feelings through music. Maybe when you communicate with this person, instead of straight up telling them how you feel, you send them songs that remind you of them and represent your feelings for them. You may be watching this person from afar, investigating about them to figure out what kind of person they are.

How they feel towards you - Judgment, 8 of swords, 4 of pentacles, King of wands, 2 of cups

I had to ask for a clarifier for the 8 of swords. And got the knight of pentacles. This person feels so strongly about you that it hurst them. They feel stuck because they feel like they don't have the opportunity to fully express how much they care about you. They are scared of being hurt but their attraction towards you is stronger than their fears. They feel like their karma is the reason why they met you. And they feel like life is unfair to them because they are currently stuck or at least they believe so. They feel like they can't have you, like they can't be with you. Maybe this person doesn't think they are worthy of you. Maybe they think that you don't like them and it pains them. They love you so much it breaks their heart. They wish they could free themselves of these feelings but they also don't want to let go of the love they have for you. It is a difficult situation for them. This person deeply believes that you are meant for them. Butterflies can be significant to this connection. Flowers as well. I get the feeling of someone praying for fate to be in their favor and allow them to be with the person they love. I am feeling very emotional doing this reading. There's a feeling of desperation coming from this person. I'm hearing "God please let this be my person, God please watch over them until we can see each other again". This person is afraid to show how much they care because they think that you would think they're crazy. They wish to seduce you and court you but they feel like they're not in a good position to do so. Maybe they think they're not beautiful enough or not rich enough. I get the feeling of two people coming from different backgrounds, living very different lives. They feel that you're out of their league. They're being very harsh on themselves when it comes to you. A part of them doubts that there is a possibiliy for you to be together and another prays for it to be true.

Shufflemancy : BTS - Butterfly, Ariana Grande - Thinking 'bout you

Group 3 - Fresh

How you feel about them - Empress, Queen of swords, Queen of wands, 6 of cups, King of pentacles

You are very certain of your feelings for this person. You genuinely love them and you are intimately convinced that they like you back. You feel very good about yourself and in control of what is going on between you. You are standing in your power and being very serious about this person and the connection. You know very well what you're doing with this person. You are aware of the effect you have on them and you feel like you don't have to nudge them too much for them to be into you. You feel pretty positively about this connection. You believe that they are your soulmate. You are very friendly and at ease with this person. You have no trouble communicating with them, being around them. You feel pretty confident about your ability to attract them and to keep them around. Maybe this person has already shown you that they liked you back. They could have offered you to spend time with them. You are approaching them with a very friendly energy and you are perfectly fine with being friends with them but you think that you would also be very happy if it turned into more. You just know you want to be around this person no matter what. You are trusting the divine with this connection but also mostly trusting yourself. You feel very attracted to them but also very protective of them. Your energy feels like a good mix of masculine and feminine. You are balanced and know when to be in their space and when to stay away. It looks like things are going well for you my dear! Your intentions are pretty clear when it comes with this person. You don't hide from it which I feel is a good thing in your case. You're not afraid of what this person's opinion will be because you are confident they will like you no matter what.

How they feel about you - Queen of cups, 4 of wands, Strength, 5 of swords, page of pentacles

I asked for a clarifier for the 5 of swords and got the 5 of cups. Group 3, your approach is working. Not only do they like you but they want to commit to you. This person is dead on wanting to make you their queen no matter what. They want to fight for you. They feel conflicted because they are scared they will lose the opportunity to be with you. Something may have happened that made them think you were not going to stay around. They are studying you and trying to learn how to match your expectations. They want to be good to you and good for you. This person can be doing actual research to figure out how to appeal to you. Lmao I feel like someone is inexperienced in love and typing "how to show your crush you like them" on the Internet because they're so scared to mess up. I also pick up on someone actually learning new skills to impress their crush. So maybe they're learning a new language or doing a new sport or learning to play the guitar. I don't know. I feel like this person misses you. Or fears that this connection will be a missed opportunity. Maybe you live at a distance from one another. That doesn't show in the cards but that could be possible. This person is just so in love with your energy. I feel like the lion on the strength card is just turning into a big purring kitty looking for cuddles lmao They just instantly melt in your presence. If this person is pretty strong and confident in their daily life, when they're around you they feel like a marshmellow. They just can't find their composure anymore. They become giddy and just so dorky. If they appear very mature in public, with you they become a kid again. You bring out their inner child. They just feel so good in your presence they don't ever want this feeling to stop. They love your warm aura, your beauty, your confidence. Good job group 3 !

Shufflemancy : BTS - Spring Day, Beyoncé - Halo

[urlocalnctstan]

In The Quiet Between Us - Ju Ji-Hoon X Reader X Choo Young-Woo

CHAPTERS: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN

Main Characters:

Ju Ji-hoon (CEO) - 45, enigmatic, poised, dominant. Public image: calm, refined, untouchable. Private self? Caged chaos, precision, hunger. Has a strict no-dating policy… until her.

You (Reader!Employee) - 25, a corporate strategist at an enterntainment company. Vanilla, career-obsessed, cautious. Never knew submission could feel like liberation. Until him.

Choo Young-Woo (Employee) - 32, empathetic, poised, comforting, Public image: Career focused, sweet, shy, ambivert. Private self? Soft, yearns in silent, patient. Wants nothing but to care for her, protect her.

Themes:

Age gap (20 years and 7 years)

Power imbalance (celebrity x corporate staff)

Forbidden workplace romance

BDSM x vanilla dynamic

Soft to intense smut

Emotional unraveling

Public facade vs private surrender

ANGST ANGST ANGST

SLOW BURN

YEARNINGGGG

So much miscommunication

Red flag Ji-Hoon (I know he's far from it I am sorry yall)

A/N: This story is completely fictional with absolutely no relevance to the characters' real life persona or personal lives. It is meant for enterntainment purposes only and is not to be taken literally. Thank you.

You were warned.

"Don't stare." "Don't engage unless spoken to." "And never—never—flirt with Mr. Ju."

Which was fine, really. You had better things to do than pine over your new boss, even if he was obscenely sculpted in a black turtleneck, his bone structure seeming engineered in a lab. You were there to finalize the budget approval for a global campaign shoot, not drool over his fingers as they leisurely swirled his espresso.

But he noticed.

He noticed everything.

"You work in finance?" His voice was velvet over marble, smooth but cold.

You nodded, startled that he’d spoken to you at all. "Strategy team. I'm here for the contract review."

“Hmm.” His eyes didn’t waver. “And yet you look like someone who’d rather control people than numbers.”

Your pulse stuttered.

"I'm sorry?"

“Apologies,” he said smoothly. “You just… hold yourself like someone who’s never been told what to do.”

That was the first crack in your shell.

[darkbluetennessee]

i think a lot of taylor “making the moves” in relationships just came down to her need (conscious or subconscious) for control. it’s like she always wants to have the upper hand, or know she can easily gain it in order to avoid being hurt. but i think a big lesson for her in 2023 was about relinquishing that control and embracing surrender. it’s the difference between i am an architect i’m drawing up the plans/what if i told you i’m a mastermind/my spine split from carrying us up the hill/in my defense i have none for digging up the grave another time/should’ve let it stay buried vs who are we to fight the alchemy? always forcing things to fall into her plans vs accepting something she never planned for.

anon your mind......this is one of the most insightful messages i've ever received