#lune thinks

[lunarcloak]

Not enough people are talking about this. No, I don't mean the Rinsagi breakup or Rivalry breakup or whatever.

I mean this.

All those jokes about Rin and Isagi being the same... Because their expressions, when confronted with such a sheer, impossibly high gap in ability are the exact same. Really, this particular football maneuver is not rare. It has happened plenty of times.

But only Rin and Isagi have reacted this way to bring overthrown in such a callous, effortless manner.

And not to mention, Rin himself. The words he's heard come from Sae, every time this happens to him. "What have you been doing in Japan? You'll never be able to surpass me. "

"With such a lukewarm existence... You're a failure of a rival. "

Even when he's trying to beat Sae, he cannot help but be Sae. Learn from Sae. Acknowledge Sae. And he sees himself in Isagi, just as Isagi sees himself in Rin. The pages after this are of Isagi acknowledging that, while their drives and reasons may be different, they are both MORE than willing to put everything. EVERYTHING. On the line.

The same blood runs in their veins. And Isagi and Rin are absolutely delightful rivals.

[lunarcloak]

Gonna quickly thank @a-mel-tomelts for pointing me to this. But I've got some WORDS to say on those tags.

"The way ALNST expresses love is so... so..." You're SO right. At its core, Alien Stage's story revolves around the idea of love and loss. Aliens seeing humans as lesser than, enough to pit them against each other after forming bonds strong enough for the deaths to hurt.

Of course the winner of this season is the one man who had no ties to the rest of the competitors. Of course he only crumbles when he's faced by the One Person he "loves".

Every single round has revolved around the idea of love, and then followed by the longing for it, or the loss of it.

But isn't it interesting? I don't think any of them know what love feels like. They've all got terrible views of it, in twisted ways.

Mizi is so sheltered, her love is so pure. She doesn't know how tragic it can be, and how brutal it can be, to love someone. She's only ever known requited love, the kind that was supposed to be everlasting. She has the most wholesome view of it.

Sua only perpetrated this, I think. Love for Sua would have been something that's inevitably fated to end, with the coming of their competition against each other. It would have been the most tragic beauty. It was never the sweet forever it was for Mizi, even if they truly did love each other. It would end one day.

For Till, Love had always been an ideal. The chase was towards perfection, sweetness, and the epitome of beauty, for Till. He would never be able to understand the nuance and bittersweet nature of it, because he's only ever looked at Mizi's smiles and laughs. It was unattainable, for Till. Love was something to only admire from afar, never be able to experience.

You'd think Ivan would be similar to this. But Ivan is probably just fascinated by the idea of it, rather than chasing after the ideal of it. He's fascinated by Till, fascinated by his ability to chase after the ideal, and so he pokes and pokes at Till to see how he reacts. Ivan wants to analyse what it's like to be in love, what it's like to care so deeply about a person. So he's always watching Till, because Till is the representation of everything Ivan wants to understand and seek.

For all of Luka's faults and insanity, I think he and Hyuna probably have the most, mature views of love. Luka is absolutely UNHINGED, don't get me wrong. But to be able to imitate the sweetness of Sua enough to get Mizi, who has known Sua for forever, and to be able to capture Ivan's distinctive gaze so well-- it would not be so flawless, by someone who did not understand it. [but I also think Luka and Ivan are two sides of the same coin-- discussion for another day.] Luka's spent enough time seeing and learning to probably know all about it. But not be able to feel it himself. Luka feels Loss better than he feels Love.

Hyuna, obviously, is the best for the example of love. But we don't see or know enough for me to confirm this. Hyuna feels Loss better than she feels Love.

So of course, when it comes down to it, the ones who never experienced any form of love-- ideal, twisted, or true, are the ones who are now forced to face the ones who ruined themselves for Love.

the difference between till at the start of round 6 and round 7

he doesn't seem like he's trying at all during round 6, having already fully given up living after losing mizi

but in round 7, even though he's lost even more, he's clearly putting all he has left into it

and the reason for that... has to be ivan, right?

he must have recognized ivan sacrificed himself for him, so for the sake of ivan's feelings till tries his absolute best to respond to them and perform that till sings at all here is for ivan

...but at the same time ivan is what haunts him

obviously, right? there's no way watching someone you were so close to you die like that right in front of you can give you actual "strength" (and this isn't even getting into the kiss...) contrary to ivan's (clearly wrong) conviction that till doesn't care enough for him to become a trauma to him, that's exactly what happens

this inextricable mix of love and hate, hurting and healing... this is the tragedy of their relationship to the end no matter how much ivan and till care for each other, they can't ever cure each other

[r-aindr0p]

Thieving around and finding out...... Idia was on a side quest from Azul to get bottled sustenance in exchange, he is funkging dead now, rip idia Uhhh bonus Jamil contemplating his stone by the pond

[justgazan]

466 days of hardship, days so overwhelming they cannot be captured in words, blood, or tears.

We are grateful to have survived with our lives and the lives of our loved ones through one of the greatest massacres of modern times. We lost so many dear ones, our homes, and our possessions. But we hold onto the promise of God’s compensation.

It was a year and months of suffering unlike anything humanity has ever witnessed. We pray that God grants us the strength to forget the pain we endured, that these days pass and never return.

Peace be upon us for the patience we bore. 💔

@oorevitcejda @yellowwperil @sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais

@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice @tetrafelino @think-queer

@timothylawrence @roakkaliha @lostacelonnie @huzni @laurajameskinney

@gamb0fficial @vincentspork @teabisexual @officialscud @evilponds

@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters

@witticismz @dovv @capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation

@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke @userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard @melon-colli

@demilypyro @lesbocrocker @kahin @chososhairbuns

@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain

@stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy

[lunefuforu]

[hasty-hintless]

I've been so long out of the layton fandom that I didn't know luke HAD A DAY??!!! Omg happy luke lunes!!!!

I wonder if the professor sometimes misses little kid Luke with his Big Emotions once he becomes an adult and it's far rarer to see him lose his composure... I like to think Luke as an adult smiles the exact same way he did as a child but the professor will never tell him :) after all it'd be a crying shame if he got self-concious and stopped, yknow?

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 1st — pride — 1804words — nsfw! aka regulus purchases something and james is fortunate enough to unpack for @itmeanssungod & @veryinnovative

It’s been a while since Regulus started toying with the idea of trying out packing for himself. 

He doesn’t have too much dysphoria during sex anymore—which he is grateful for—since he’s completely healed from top surgery and especially with partners he knows. 

But lately Regulus has found out it feels really fucking good to just- keep the strap on afterwards. Just haphazardly yank on his boxer briefs once they’re done, purple tip peeking out over the top of the hem, and sex drunkenly stumble into the kitchen to get himself a gatorade from the fridge. Evan prefers water, which they keep in the room, and Barty prefers to crank open a window and smoke one.

It’s empowering in a way, he guesses. He’s still living with his brother and James is over more times than he is not. Just liking the company of a busy house full of people he reasons with a shrug every time the topic comes up. Missing the old days in a dorm.

Regulus is pretty sure there’s truth in that statement but he’s also not stupid and convincing himself he’s only imagining the looks James is sending his way has only worked for so long. It’s near ridiculous to think he’s been oblivious to it for so long.

But Regulus isn’t anymore because when he’d gone to get his gatorade James had, to spell it out politely, nearly died from choking on his pasta salad when he’d looked up from his phone and at Regulus.

So with the arrival of pride Regulus had saved up and treated himself with the purchase of a flaccid strap on. It matches his skin colour nearly perfectly, the head showing from under the foreskin. It’s got a nice feel to it, it’s proportionate to his body when Regulus looks at himself in the mirror and it’s comfortable where it’s hanging between his legs and resting in his underwear when he puts his clothes back on. It’s a little ridiculous but he knows it’s important so Regulus allows himself to tear up about it a little. About how bone deep good it makes him feel about himself.

He’s in grey joggers and a form fitting black T-shirt. Regulus turns to the side in front of the mirror, cups himself through the soft material of his pants. Barely audible he can hear James humming to himself in the kitchen. Regulus smirks.

“James,” Regulus greets as he enters the kitchen.

“Oh, hi, Reg,” James says, lifting from over the stove and taking out his airpods from where he was bobbing his head to the music playing on them. 

Regulus plops himself on a free spot on the counter and picks up a bottle of sauce he doesn’t recognise to busy himself with reading the label. “What are you cooking?”

James hums and proceeds to explain to him where he found the recipe on social media and what health benefits it has and how good it’s going to taste.

Regulus half listens and half plots internally how he’s going to subtly make James aware of his newest possession.

“Can I do something to help?”

“Err,” James blinks for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle, “The Regulus Black offering to help in the kitchen on his own volition? How much money do you need?”

Regulus rolls his eyes and swats him in the chest. “I was very much being sincere, for your information. But I can go of course, if my presence is not needed,” he says and makes to stand up.

“No no,” James replies quickly, raising his palms in a pacifying manner. They’re closer now and Regulus can see where James’ brain has momentarily paused its task of persuading Regulus to stay in favour of simply staring at him. His curls, his eyes, his lips. 

Regulus raises his eyebrows.

“You– ehm,” James starts, swallowing, “You caaaan– set the table?”

“Are you asking or telling?” Regulus inquires, taking another half step closer and delighting in the small intake of breath from James.

“Telling,” James answers. “Please.”

Regulus nods, biting back a smirk, and steps around James to get cutlers.

After he’s set those out he waits for James to go back to stirring the pasta that’s cooking on one of the back burners, right underneath the shelf with the plates. 

Regulus comes up from behind and sets a hand on James’ hip. “Pardon,” he murmurs and then stretches up on his toes, pressing his crotch right into James’ backside.

It has its desired effect immediately.

James’ breath hitches and in the next second he’s making an aborted noise deep in his throat.

Regulus’ lips twitch upwards at the corners, “Something wrong?”

James shakes his head, his voice cracking on the m-mh he makes, not opening his mouth. His hand is completely still where he’s got the wooden spoon gripped.

Regulus hums, leans in impossibly closer, really rubbing himself into James’ ass. James lets out a wheeze. Regulus tilts his head, mouth right next to the other’s ear, “How many do we need?”

“Hm?” James’ voice is thin.

“How many do we need, James?” Regulus repeats, fingers over his hip tightening marginally.

“Ah- um, what? Sorry, I’m—”

“Plates, James,” Regulus tuts, grinding his hips forward slightly, “How many plates?”

“O-oh,” James seems to take a deep, steadying breath, “Five?”

Regulus hums and then with one last little thrust grabs the plates before lifting back down and extracting himself.

He can feel James’ eyes glued to him the whole while Regulus is setting them on the table, neatly next to the cutlery. It fills Regulus’ entire body with a warm feeling. Eventually he saunters back over, coming to a stop right next to James, who is currently indecently staring at Regulus’ crotch. If it was anyone else in any other situation Regulus would have already punched them in the nose but this is different. This is Regulus purposely instigating and James stepping right into the trap Regulus has carefully placed between the foliage.

“Something you wanna ask?” Regulus ducks his head, catching James’ gaze where it’s evidently trained on his lap. 

He doesn’t quite manage to suppress his grin this time. James seems to notice that, sputtering at first before realisation dawns on his face.

“You– oh, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” James replies, eyes narrowed slightly, flush high on his cheekbones regardless.

“Doing what?” Regulus asks innocently. He sets his elbows on the counter behind him, jutting out his hips teasingly.

James groans obscenely and then proceeds to cage Regulus right in, settling two palms on either side of Regulus’ elbows. 

“Regulus.” There’s a warning quality to the way James presses out his name.

“James,” Regulus purrs, angling his face to look up at the older man through his lashes.

James breathes out roughly through his nose, pupils dilating. “You’re packing, aren’t you?”

“I might be.”

“And you wanted me to know.”

Regulus makes a non-committal sound.

“God,” James curses, “You’re so infuriating. Do you know how hard it is to not—” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence. James’ eyes are roving over his face for clues and Regulus guesses if James is taking the inch, Regulus might as well give him the mile. Or, rather, the rest of the inches.

“You wanna see it?”

James’ mouth opens soundlessly. It takes a moment before he answers. “It?”

“My cock,” Regulus explains, licking his lips. “It’s new.”

James moans quietly, “Yeah, Reg, I wanna see your cock, fuck.”

Regulus sets his hands against the muscle connecting James’ neck and shoulder, “Can you get on your knees for me?”

“Is the sky blue?” James retorts, eyes glazing over as he sinks down in front of Regulus without further prompting. When he looks back up at Regulus with big, Bambi brown eyes from behind his glasses he looks so sweet Regulus considers briefly if he might be in over his head. “Can I?” James asks, gently hiking his fingertips into the band of Regulus’ sweats. 

Regulus nods and with that James pulls the clothing down.

There’s a little bit of nervous yet excited sweat breaking out on Regulus’ palms but before he has the opportunity to overthink, he already hears the groan punching out of James. 

“Fuck, Reg,” James whispers. “Oh, Christ, you’re so gorgeous. Look at him.”

Regulus sucks in an unsteady inhale and twists his fingers into the unruly mess that is James’ hair, having to hold onto something suddenly.

“You like it?” Regulus rasps.

James answers with a slightly delirious laugh tumbling out of him. He shakes his head in awe, fingers digging into the soft muscle of Regulus’ thighs. “Reg, don’t slap me, I’m just being sincere when I say I wanna take you into my mouth so badly.”

Regulus dampens a moan into a sigh, “You can.”

James rips his gaze away from his cock, a starstruck look in his pretty, dark eyes when he gapes up at him. Regulus nods his reassurance.

“Oh fuck.” 

Then James is sucking Regulus’ flaccid strap into his mouth. Working his tongue around it, hallowing his cheeks and really giving it his all. Like his goal is to get Regulus as hard as fast as humanly possible.

And Regulus knows it’s logically impossible but he swears he can feel James tonguing at him, getting terribly aroused by the image and feel of James giving him a fucking blowjob right there in the kitchen. A small noise slips out of Regulus and he accidentally tightens his grip in James’ hair. James responds beautifully, moaning around Regulus in his mouth and eyes fluttering like he’s getting off just as much on all of this as Regulus is. His lips stretch prettily around the silicone and Regulus thumbs softly at the stubble on James’ jaw.

There’s a moment where their eyes meet when James takes him all the way into the back of his throat, making the end of the strap push back against Regulus’ centre, where Regulus has the sudden realisation that he’s going to come if James keeps this up.

And that is decidedly the moment the front door opens, the laughter of their friends echoeing through the hallway.

James keens when Regulus pulls him off and quickly tugs the waistband of his sweatpants back up and pulls on James’ shirt until he stands as well. He looks like a kicked puppy as Regulus ushers him back to the stove, shoving the wooden spoon against his chest to stir the probably totally overcooked pasta. His mouth is twisted into a pout or maybe that’s just them being swollen from having Regulus in his mouth. 

Fuck it.

He takes James’ jaw in a loose grip to get his attention again. “Finish this after dinner?”

James’ answer is a bright smile and a quick kiss he steals himself against Regulus’ wrist.

[ilikedetectives]

the face I make when I fall for the same fake attack for the 33rd time

[dangergggg]

Congrats to Clair Obscur Expedition 33 on 3.3 million copies sold!!!!!^^

[lunarcloak]

The same blood

runs in their veins.

[kiyrian]

Another fantastic but heartbreaking part of Expedition 33 is the way the narrative frames the passing of the painted Dessendre family and Simon. For us as players and for the most of the Expedition they are just obstacles in our way to the end. But not for all, especially not for Verso.

When it comes to Renoir, killing him is a necessary step. He, a painted creation himself, stands between them and the Expedition's goal. Getting rid of him is exhausting but joyous - for all but Verso. Mealle is confused, she is finding her new powers while a version of her brother is loosing his father. The next time Verso will see Renoir it will be a father that doesn't even acknowledge him being there, it won't really be HIS father.

We have the Paintress herself, a grieving mother that needs to be reminded that some of her children are still alive. That seems to blame her youngest for a death of her brother enough to punish different versions of her (she lets Mealle have Gustave. And yet she hasn't forgiven her. She sets her on fire just so Verso can again smother it with his own body). Once again, it's a joyous occasion for the Expedition that leaves Verso on his knees and leaves him to face the consequences of his choice to save HIS mother.

Then Alicia, who longs to be free from the painted world created by a mother who could have given her a voice and could have healed her but decided not to. Here most of the companions aren't as emotionally connected to this loss, leaving Verso and Mealle. Mealle who sees it as mercy, as fulfilling her other-self wishes. Alicia freezes time just so all versions of this one girl can spent some time alone. And then when the time starts all Verso can see is HIS sister's death at the hand of this healthier version of her.

We also have Clea, poor Clea that has become a source of the monsters that destroy her world. Taken from her family and repainted by another version of herself, up until her brother finds her and helps her gain enough control to kill herself. The Expedition hangs back during her final moments, having won against the source of their misery or maybe giving Verso a moment. This death wasn't a necessary step but would always happen as long as he reaches his goal. Only now he has to witness it, watch the only living member of HIS family chose death, just like Alicia did. Just as he will want to in the end.

And lastly, Simon. Not a direct member of the family as far as we know, but Clea's partner and someone close enough to Verso. Just like Verso he had come into contact with the Painters but for him Clea, the painted Clea, was the most important one. He was tricked by Painter!Clea and lost his beloved, only to be locked in the fight against Painter!Renoir to help in keeping him from destroying the painted world. We don't need to kill him - he's no threat, he will die just like everyone else. But when we do he passes his sword to Verso, the only one who once again recognizes him and bears the burden of killing him. Does he think Verso will use this sword to keep his sister safe? Is he passing along the duty to fight against the Painter!Renoir without knowing that his sword will bring the end to their world? Verso looks back at his companions before accepting the sword but they neither know Simon nor do they know the fate awaiting them once Verso gets the ending he wants.

After all of this I'm not surprised Verso wants it all to end. All of the Expeditioners have lost someone. Only, the latter two parts of the game see us killing each member of his family. Even if he had started with this goal of rescuing his mother, it feels like the goal shifted toward the end. He too just wants it all to stop.

[r-aindr0p]

deuce defo is the disastrous organist who has only been at the cathedral for a short time, lol

He's doing his best alright !!!

But Azul can do it better

[warmsol]

yaaa this convinced me to give her a chop sometime soon weeee

[cicadaknight]

Renoir wouldn't even look at Verso in the end.

I think the most obvious reason is that he truly doesn't believe this Verso is real. That he doesn't deserve any of his time or compassion because he is a figment and no matter how many lifetimes he's lived, or people he's loved, he is unworthy. A poor imitation of the real thing, a used up tool that should have been cast aside long ago.

Or maybe after everything, over a century of life in the canvas, 67 years of suffering, Renoir feels utterly betrayed that Verso has once again taken Aline's side. That even though Verso has lived this torture of being a manipulated memory of a person, at the cost of his family's lives, he would choose this fate for eternity. Is it shame and disgust Renoir feels towards him?

Or maybe it's because he can't risk losing his resolve. Maybe deep down there's a fear that if he even glances at this creature who lives and breathes as his son, he'll fall into the same fantasy plaguing Aline and Maelle. And he's come too far to take that chance.

[lunesart]

if you think about it, MK and Archie Knuckles have a lot of parallels

[hasty-hintless]

(slams the post button with 15 min left to the end of the day) HAPPY LUKE LUNES!!!

I liked this conversation! thought it was a shame that it's the only notable one between these two. That said, sometimes I wonder if Luke has "please mess with me" written on his forehead or something, bc like... it seems to be a recurring pattern...

(game dialogue under the cut to help readability)