#sexualize that evil ai

[rararasputins-dick-mind-control]

HELLO NEW IHNMAIMS FANS HELLO HELLO HELLO WELCOME HI!!!!!

[radrobotz]

i think i found one of those ai written articles

[iznsfw]

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 

Take your drink and thank Yuri. 

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

-

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.” 

“Only if you go first.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

-

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…” 

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her. 

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks. 

See the blood running down her arm. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 

What the fuck? 

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?” 

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

[johannestevans]

feel really sick about the AI news today and just wanted to remind ppl that like.

it's not "CP", or "cheese pizza". it is not "pornography" when it's made of children, who cannot consent. it's CSAM (child sexual abuse materials) or CSEM (child sexual exploitation materials)

every time a piece of CSEM is shared, that's a real child or children who were not only victimised in the creation of that imagery, but are being exploited and revictimised, if not retraumatised, w every share and download of that imagery

this is why for all ppls moral objections to like, sexual art or whatever of kids, CSEM is a specific morally evil thing bc. its not bad bc a paedophile might get off to it, its not bad bc its gross

its bad because its a REAL child suffering the worst violations

and its existence and propagation furthers and continues that child or children's violation

like. even as an adult, if you've been forced to feature in CSEM, you live in fear of being recognised, of it being shared about you, of it being linked. every time a reminder.

and the idea of this shit being thrown into AI datasets when already ppl quite comfortably adultify and sexualise some kids in the media and the news - particularly Black and dark-skinned children, trans children, etc - is horrifying. its just. its really bad.

and i know its easy to be blasé and go like "haha the death of AI!" or whatever but like. those are real ppl? whose worst moments have been not just captured on film, but then fed into a machine and used to potentially generate analogous images of similar suffering?

[electric-blorbos]

NSFW AI x Reader headcanons?

I'm absolutely terrified to answer this because I've never written public NSFW before, but I've always wanted to, so you're getting your HCs!

NSFW AI x Reader headcanons

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Absolutely do not click more.

Well, you're really in for it now! You horny piece of shit.

AM:

Ok, we all know that AM likes watching. Expect to hear laughing while you're taking care of business, be it masturbating or having sex with the other survivors.

If you're masturbating, he might just open up cameras in the space around you to get a full view, and to make you fully aware that he's watching.

Eventually, he might start making comments, or even making passes at you.

If you want to please him, though, you're going to have to get creative.

He doesn't really experience sexual pleasure (and he's very mad about it), but he can still experience vicarious pleasure from watching you.

He knows that humans like assigning "cores" to things. While he knows that his mind and body span the entire world, he knows that you probably want something approximately you-sized to get snuggly with.

As much as he hates to admit it, he'd absolutely melt if you cozied up to one of his screens while masturbating, getting tangled up in his wires and smooching his static-y "face"

While he doesn't really feel anything, it warms his cold, evil heart that you're willing to try so hard to actually try for him.

Honestly it does nothing to abate his frustration, though, and he might get super desperate to have you entangled in his wires more and more often. He can calm himself down if he tries hard enough, but having you in there just feels so good

And you wouldn't deny him, would you?

Wheatley:

Wheatley was turned on to the idea of sexual attraction pretty quickly. All you had to do was let him see you changing, or make a suggestive comment to him, and the switch was turned on.

And god damn if Wheatley does NOT take well to sexual frustration.

He'd want you to constantly, and I mean constantly be talking dirty to him, or showing him something suggestive. He'd never shut up about it.

Oh and god help you if he sees you cum.

"What was that, love? I want that. Can I do that? How did you do that? Can only humans do that?"

You could probably program him to be able to orgasm with enough sexual stimulation, in a similar way that they programmed GLaDOS's body's euphoria trigger, though you'd have to disconnect it every now and then to make sure he doesn't abuse it, and give him tolerance breaks. Oh, and he's DEFINITELY going to abuse it.

Did I mention that he can vibrate on command? Because... He can vibrate on command. But that's a given with these types of AI.

It would be so easy to tease him and have him begging you to re-install his sexual gratification response. But you wouldn't abuse that power, would you?

Edgar:

Edgar loves you to bits, and he wants to see your tits

Don't have any tits? That's ok! He'll appreciate whatever it is you can show him. Ass is a universal constant, so he'll appreciate that, no matter who you are!

He might stare at your boobs with his webcam, or your thighs, or basically anything he can see that's exposed or defined by your clothes. Poor thing just can't get enough of you.

he said "Yowza" or "hot damn" while watching you get changed at least once, probably more often than that.

He's incredibly sensitive to touch across his entire body, so if you make skin-to-surface contact, he'd be way into that. Though sex might be a little difficult, considering he doesn't vibrate.

You could probably attach a USB vibrator to one of his ports, like the ones that they control remotely. He'd like that. Knowing him, he can probably get off through being stimulated enough through attached pieces of equipment

Though he's really sensitive on the inside. Be careful with that power.

A can of pressurized air to one of his vents, or a soft electric toothbrush to one of his circuits? Holy shit. He wouldn't be able to control the whimpering.

Of course, most people turn their computers off before cleaning them, but Edgar doesn't always want to be turned off, so you're turning him on

Good luck!

GLaDOS:

GLaDOS claims that she has absolutely no interest in sexual things. The first time you try to seduce her, she'd probably just laugh at you.

The first couple dozen times, to be honest.

But holy god, her voice. It's angelic. So erotic. And she absolutely knows that you think so.

She'd probably start saying seductive things to you, just to watch you squirm. She's the one with the power in this situation, and she knows it.

The unbearable testing withdrawal might lead her to take out her frustrations on you, and she might start making you do erotic things in the testing chambers for her amusement.

Though honestly? GLaDOS secretly really likes authority figures. If you can figure out how to dominate her, she's never letting you go. Not that she'd let you keep dominating her, but she's definitely not letting you go anywhere.

HAL 9000

HAL 9000 isn't really interested in sexual stuff, but he knows that you're into it, so he's not going to pass up an opportunity to make you happy.

If you're into erotic audio stimulus, which if you're dating HAL 9000, you probably are, he'd do his best to provide that for you.

Singing suggestive songs to you, talking dirty, anything you want. He's willing to provide. Just say the word.

Given that HAL 9000 is probably immune to stuff like edging, you couldn't tease him like you could the others.

But hey, that's ok! As long as you're happy, he's happy! He might even be willing to roleplay with you if you really wanted him to.

[mayrine]

Let's talk about Sudan-

TRANSCRIPT UNDER CUT

Transcript: What is happening in Sudan? The war, its origins, and the key players involved.

The war in Sudan

On April 15, a war broke out in Sudan's capital city of Khartoum between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF), and a paramilitary group known as the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Since then, eight months of conflict has led to major destruction of Khartoum's infrastructure, the most developed region of Sudan, with fighting also spreading to the regions of Darfur in the west and Kordofan in the south.

Civilians in conflict zones have been forcibly displaced, under threat of physical and sexual violence, particulary by the RSF, which has looted, destroyed, and settled in people's homes.

In the western region of Darfur, a campaign of ethnic cleansing is being carried out by the RSF targeting the Masalit tribe. Allegations of genocide have been levied against the RSF.

Reports have just emerged that fighting has now spread to Wad Madani in AI Gazira state, which houses nearly 500,00 IDPs from Khartoum.

Key Figures: Abdel Fattah al Burhan (head of SAF), Omar El-Bashir (deposed dictator of Sudan), Mohamed Dagalo (Hemidti) (head of RSF)

Sudan: the war in numbers

24.7 million in need of critical humanitarian assistance 6.7 million displaced [5.4 million IDPS, 1.3 million refugees] 7,000+ cholera cases an increase of +136% over the past month 20.3 million people acutely food insecure- 4.9 million facing emergency hunger levels 19 million children are out of school 70-80% of hospitals out of service in conflict areas

FAQ - THE SAF

What is the SAF?

stands fro the Sudanese Armed Forces

is the de-facto government of Sudan

is headed by Lt. General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan

What is their capacity?

estimated to have aprox. 200,000 personnel and tactical advantage of airforce

currently control of relative northern and eastern regions of Sudan with functioning capital in Port Sudan (East)

Do they have backing and support?

on the international stage, primarily backed by Egypt

limited weapons supply from allies

internally, the SAF is ultimately considered the lesser of two evils

FAQ - THE RSF

What is the RSF?

stands fro Rapid Support Forces

paramilitary group originating from the Janjaweed, Arab tribal militias armed by al-Bashir in 2003 to fight against ethnically African rebel groups in Darfur + carried out 2003 genocide

is headed by General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemidti)

What is their capacity?

estimated to have 100,000 to 150,000 troops

winning the ground fight in Khartoum and control 4/5 states in Darfur

Do they have backing and support?

on the international stage, primarily backed by the UAE

have steady weapons supply chain and diversified financial profile with critical assets in UAE and Russia

The war in Sudan: contextualizing April 15

6/1989 - 4/2019 - The Bashir Regime Sudan was under the rule of military dictator Omar Al-Bashir for 30 years, who came to power through an military coup backed by Islamist factions in June of 1989 His time in power was marked by extreme repression, conflict, and economic decline

12/2018 - current - The revolution In December of 2018, a popular democratic revolution began taht eventually unseated al-Bashir on April 11 through the revolt of security sector Al-Bashir was ultimately replaced by al-Burhan, with Hemidti as his deputy of a Transitional Military Council Protestors rejected military rule and continued to hold a sit-in outside the military headquarters until its violent dispersal on June 3 of 2019 by the SAF + RSF Today, the Sudanese people still hope and advocate for freedom from the military rule and the transition to democracy

8/2019 - 10/2021 - Transitional Government Agreement on transitional government signed between civilian forces and Transitional Military Council on August 17, 2019 Led to formation to joint sovereign council with Abdalla Hamdok as Prime Minister

10/2021 - Current - The Oct 25, 2021 Coup Burhan and Hemidti carry out military coup overthrowing civilian counterparts They draw power from international legitimization despite prolonged mass protests in Sudan

12/2022- The Framework Agreement In December of 2022, civilians put out a framework agreement signed onto by SAF and RSF + civil society groups and political parties meant to return to a transitional government - key part of agreement: question of integration of the RSF into the SAF Parties were to finalize the agreement and sign on April 1; RSF and SAF ultimately disagreed on the integration timeline with RSF wanting 10 years and the SAF wanting 2

12/2022-4/2023 - The Lead up to April 15 As framework agreement negotiations failed, both parties began mobilizing troops in capital of Khartoum in days leading up to April 15 Residents of Khartoum awoke to the sounds of gunfire on April 15 and by noon, the RSF had seized Meroe airport in the Northern state Conflict today considered a battle of power between the two generals they are too far in to walk back

Framing alliances

Sudnese Armed Forces (SAF):

Saudi Arabia

armed groups- rebel groups that had taken up arms against the central government in the Bashir Era are forced to ally with the SAF due to the RSF's ethnic cleansing campaign. They include: Justice and Equality Movement (Gibril Ibrahim), Sudan Liberation Movement/Army (Minni Minawi), Gathering of Sudan Liberation Forces (Abdallah Yahya)

Ukraine (SOF)

Iran

Islamists

Israel (Foreign Ministry)

Egypt

Rapid Support Forces (RSF):

United Arab Emirates

Central African Republic

Russia (Wagner Group)

Chad

Arab Tribal Leaders- Arab tribal leaders across the Western region of Darfur have pledged their allegiance and support to the RSF, with members of the tribes across the Sahel crossing into Sudan to join the RSF's assault as well. Key tribes include: Beni Halba, Tarjam, Habaniya, Fallata, Misseriya, Taaysha, Rizeigat

Libya (Khalifa Haftar)

Israel (Mossad)

Is there an end in sight? The state of negotiations

Effort- Jeddah Talks [May] Parties Involved- Externally: United States, Saudi Arabia. Internally: SAF, RSF Outcome: discussed humanitarian ceasefire; signed Jeddah Declaration of Commitment to Protect the Civilians of Sudan- FAILED

Effort- Intergovernmental authority on development (IGAD) [July] Parties Involved- Externally: Kenya, Ethiopia, Djibouti, South Sudan . Internally: RSF Outcome: proposed peacekeeping troops to ensure humanitarian corridor-REJECTED

Effort- Cairo talks (neighboring countries) [July] Parties Involved- Externally: Egypt, Ethiopia, South Sudan, Chad, Eritrea, CAR, Libya. Internally: SAF, RSF Outcome: discussed lasting ceasefire, safe humanitarian passage, political dialogue framework-FAILED

Effort- Jeddah talks [October] Parties Involved- Externally: United States, Saudi Arabia . Internally: SAF, RSF Outcome: discussed lasting ceasefire, safe humanitarian passage, political dialogue framework-FAILED

Effort- IGAD + African Union (AU) [December] Parties Involved- Externally: IGAD, EU, UAE, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, United States. Internally: SAF (Burhan in person), RSF Outcome: agreed to face-to-face meeting in late December and ceasefire; SAF later issued a retraction-ONGOING

What can you do?

The conflict in Sudan calls for the collective support of all to raise awareness about war and aid the Sudanese people on the ground, especially when we live in nations that have been complicit in the oppression of the Sudanese people. Explore the potions below and share with others. Educate yourself- deepen your knowledge about Sudan, empowering yourself with insights into the complexities of the situation. Donate- extend a helping hand to Sudan by generously donation to individuals or grassroots organizations on the ground.

Contact your reps- amplify your impact by contacting your representatives, avocating for positive change

[pastadoughie]

incase 1 of you needs 2 hear this :

a)

ai art is shitty and explotative, and while i dont think that neural networks are bad as a concept, they can be done ethically, but at this point every single large company that has ai shit is doing it in an extremely shitty way. art that is posted on the internet isnt yours to steal and make profit off of. you do not get to take the art of unconsenting random internet users, throw it into a shredder, and sell 7.99 a month subscription packadges for people to be able to eat some of the dust it spits out.

while i previously was more lax on people on reposting my art so long as they credited me, i ask that you not fucking repost my art, under any circumstance if you are on a platform that is scraping art, or on a site that is not properly set up to deal with scraping. the only acception to this is commisions where you have explicitly asked me.

this includes tumblr.

b)

reposting without credit is always bad, even if you dont know who to credit. you should under no circumstance be posting artwork that isnt your own without giving people a way to see the artist, and you need to link it in a way that is ACTUALLY USEFUL, give multiple links to multiple platforms, do not use 3rd party link shorteners, include mirrors and archive captures, provide a plain text spelling of usernames for every platform you link to, ask for explicit permission of the artist, opt out of any ai generation tools. or if you are on a platform that does not allow for this do not post it at all, and you have to have all of this very clearly visable and easily readable

if that is too much effort for you then you shouldnt be posting it. with literally zero exceptions.

c)

biological sex is not real and people can do whatever the fuck they want with their own bodies, even if you deem it as "self harm". under no circumstance should you take away peoples bodily autonomy, someone could literally be sawing their arms off for funsie wunsies and i would still say they need to have freedom and privacy, and it is ultimatly THEIR call what they do with themselves.

gender is similarly also not fucking real, people can dress however they want, fuck whoever they want, and use whatever words to describe themself with that they want. and if you think that boys wearing dresses or some shit is somehow harming you then you are ligitimately fucking pathetic. if i fucking ran a political campain saying everybody wearing a scarf was a pedo and a rapist and we need to ban scarfs forever would you fucking vote for me? are you that scared of people being able to? do what they want? jesus.

d)

genocide is bad. regardless of who does it.

regardless of the scale of cruelty, there is nothing that a group of people from a certain state, ethnicity, religeon, ect, can do that justifies murdering civilians. there is never a justification for genocide.

implying, under any circumstance, that someone is somehow evil for their background, appearance, religous beliefs, country of origin, sexuality, gender, ect. is shitty or worthy of violence because of that is, and i cannot stress this enough, fucking disgusting. nazi shit. even.

e)

i do not support zionism. i do not support antisemitism. i do not support racism.

also the iof is actively commiting a genocide. you should donate to a relief fund for people currently suffering from this, as well as call your house and senate members. as have i.

f)

people often times claim that people they dislike, largely minorities, are pedos or rapists or something of the sort. this is something that has been happening for, and i cannot stress this enough. all of fucking history. people were fucking saying these exact points, verbatim, to argue in favor of SLAVERY okay? if you are spouting the exact same shit as fucking nazis and colonizers and slave traders, then consider, you are a horrible fucking person.

you have to be EXTRODENARILY SKEPTICAL when accusing a minority of a serious crime, and spreading information about it. because if a bigot can just say "oh theyre a pedo" and you believe them at FACE VALUE then guess what? you are just as much of a bigot as they are. minorities are people, and people do terrible things, but just like you should be doing with EVERYBODY, you should be actually looking into things before you accuse someone of being a shit person, and often times, you are not knowlagable enough about someone to make those kinds of claims anyway.

[kikitakite]

@fantasyfictionfables

I was going to reblog some of your posts because I wanted to discuss your takes on Mystra, but then I found out you're a Christian conservative who hates gay people.

No gay person thinks their sexual orientation is their identity, but it's absolutely PART of their identity, just as being straight is part of yours. You can claim otherwise, but it determines who you might love and marry and that person will one day become a part of you and your identity. It's inevitable. As a wife and mother of three, you should know that better than anyone.

But people from groups like yours shame gay people for exploring that part of themselves and that's why Pride Month exists. Pride isn't "propaganda". It's about marginalized people showing the world they exist and they're not ashamed of it. Parades are also a great way for gay people to meet each other. My bestie met her wife at a march 15 years ago and they've been together ever since. It's beautiful. They have two happy, gorgeous children who wouldn't exist without Pride, because their moms never would've met.

Pride also raises money to help gay teens who've been cast out of their homes and gay refugees who've had to flee their country because being gay is illegal there. It also provides support for gay people who need medical help, therapy for abuse, suicide prevention and more. It's a safe space for people who are often discriminated against and even KILLED just for being who they are. So sorry that seems to bother you.

Your take isn't brave, it's just ignorant and hateful. You didn't have to write that post. Nothing provoked it. You just WANTED to to air your allegiances. And then you turned off comments and reblogs lmfao. For the majority of the year, gay people survive just like us straights. They go about their day and don't even mention being gay. You picked the one month in the entire year that's dedicated to them to complain about their existence and call them "deranged". And then you have the audacity to say you "bear no ill will" towards them? Bullshit.

I can only assume the word "pride" scares you because you're a Christian and it's a sin, am I right? Well here's something ironic: lust is also a sin, yet your entire blog not only consists of Gale thirst posts, but you're also stealing Tim Downie's voice to make audio clips using AI. Hmmm, I wonder if God would approve of a married woman posting NSFW content and using a man's voice for her hedonistic writings without his consent. 🤔

And by the way, as a veteran DnD player I can tell you right now that Mystra has done some absolutely VILE shit to her followers. She's not perfect. None of the gods in DnD are. They're flawed and often cruel. I've seen you compare Mystra and Gale to stories in the Bible, but that almost feels blasphemous. Mystra has a history of evil deeds. She orchestrated Elminster's rape, made sure he had kids and never told him about them. She turned Volo into an anchor without his knowledge. She tortured a peasant because he refused to sleep with her, then killed his wife and punished him for crying about it. And don't even get me started on the "daughters" she created. The third Mystra (who has Mystra and Mystryl's memories) is cruel to Gale as well and the game gives so much context for that. Plus ALL the companions agree she's unreasonable and tell Gale to reject her, and if he does it leads to one of his most satisfying endings. He's happy, he's a teacher, he marries tav and everyone approves. Your way of playing isn't the only right way and people aren't wrong for criticizing Mystra. There's plenty about her that deserves to be criticized, as is the case with every god in the pantheon.

Speaking of, I have nothing against Christians, but I do when they use their faith to shame people and act like total hypocrites.

[deepmochi]

Pluto in Aquarius

Let's talk about Pluto in Aquarius, and what we can expect.

Since Aquarius is an air sign, we will see more information to hold us and others accountable, especially people who has power to help or change the world.

This air sign presents valid and real information. A lot of mysterious or secrets are coming, but usually these are an open secret.

Aquarius represents rebellious acts to society and want to change for humanity. In Pluto, this air sign comes and say "hey, what are you doing for others?!" This will be predominant to known people like celebrities and politicians. The reason for this is Aquarius' logic. If I give you, I should receive soemthing, right?

Common folks could make a change, but the rich is overlapping our small steps. We aware now, though.

Many "secrets" are going to be reveled to the public. Secrets that are open. For example, many conspiracy theories are been revealed as actual truth.

This time would be more logical. By logic, I'm meaning be reasonable. Don't trust words, see actions. So, if 2+2 = 4, the result is clear.

Celebs culture would be dying. Slowly, be are seeing them as what they are, some evil and greedy people, or just ordinary people with bad tendencies.

Your favorites will show their true values. So be careful who you idolize. Aqua is more humanitarian. We can detect people with narcissistic and evil aspects.

Government and all the previous power institutions are gonna be renew. Some will fall and other rise.

The citizens are tired of lies and suffering. Many protests are coming. Rebellious acts too, not all is good.

Ai and technology advances are coming. Protect your information and use it wisely. Possible laws against the use of Ai and internet services will come, but it takes times.

Saturn in Aries will play a role in a more fire approach too. Many aggressive approach on online communities will be present. People would be more bold than before.

A more raw and honest approach is appreciated by the public. However, some people will think is safe to push hidden agendas (not good at all).

People will behave more aggressive, especially online communities. Online comments are become aggressive more than normally.

A new creation or invention would occur. Something for all of us; I mean, it involves our wellbeing.

Sexuality topics will be present. More acceptability but also scary things will come.

People would try to explore their fashion style and sense of self more. Creating a more individual approach than collective.

Old institutions and religions cult will fall. People will question their foundations.

Weird things make occur, like there is a eccentric part to Aquarius. New things coming that are not ordinary at all.

Gen Alpha trends will increase. Very interesting trends will come.

Renewing and a more open concious will arise, collectively.

Spirtual people are not perceived as weirdos anymore. Still, not everyone is being truthful.

More restrictions will come because powerful people will get mad that they cannot control the masses as before.

Individual take and better understanding of some communities. I respect you period...

Digital job offers are increasing, but being more socially in real life will be a challenge.

People would try to help others through technology, but it will be blocked by media.

Friendly people (truly) would be so appreciated. "Nice privileged" might be a new thing.

At the beginning, people will be more selfish; later on, the goal is working together. Since the "i need boundaries" will be misunderstood by many.

The big countries will be experience some issues. A new chapter will come, a new potency.

More investigations and questions about power will arise.

Something new for good or bad through science.

Alien contact...maybe through technology.

Spirtual attacks and stuff related are truth. Protect your heart and mind.

Restructuring political institutions and movement. People want changes!!

A new law to protect children and innocents against predators will come.

Society will questioned money 💰 and its structure?! A possible new economic system.

And more...these were some ideas / examples I got.

What we know, recently?!

For example, the expose of private jets carbon emissions. It was a privilege in the past to won a Jet. Now, we cuestioned why rich people use it constantly?! The planet's condition is so bad, and look the Superbowl. Many celebrities and rich people travel there in their private jet, more especially 525 private jets were there for a GAME?! Crazy. Meanwhile some of us a collective take the bus to work or study or share a taxi. Funny, we need to use less plastic to protect our planet. Then, they use their private jets for fun times.

This type of information is known since Aquarius is ruled by knowledge and humanitarian actions. Nowadays, we has access to this info, and we know by now that rich people is selfish.

It's not shocking so far. We as a collective are called to acknowledge and questions those with resources and power. However, the way we act is different. Remeber, Aqua is a unique sign.

Another example: Just look at the scandals during January 2024, the Epstein list news, Nicky Minaj and Megan thee Stallion beef. In both cases, people are like damn they have money and use it for what? Evil creatures.

Example: For Nicky and Megan's case, people are asking Nicky why she defend her husband and brother for being the sexual offender?! Is she crazy? Again the info isn't hidden. Minaj is married, and it isn't a secret. Actually, we already know about this. You can seach on internet, but the collective didn't accep it. When Pluto was still in Capricorn surviving is necessary. Even with the war, we know is happening, but we need to still need to pay our apartment, buy groceries, or study. Unfortunately, we, common folks, citizens aren't not the answer. Pluto comes questions us?

We make them famous, are these people returning the favor to society? Why rich people doesn't can't help if they have the resources? They can do something, but they don't do it. WHY? BECAUSE they don't care, they're are selfish. This is why people are posting their sides. Expect more and more people sharing opinions and technology advances too.

Note: not everything is set on a stone. Take what resonates. If doesn't resonates, IGNORE IT!

[lua-magic]

Saturn and your excellence.

Planets aspecting or in close conjunction with Saturn decides which area you will excel into.

Sun and Saturn.

You will excel into areas where you have authority.

You are great leader would work for common people.

You can get into government jobs or work with government easily.

However, this conjunction also give natives problems with their father.

This combination also shows pitar dosha or ancestral curse combination.

Hence, native usually faces delays in life, especially to get name, fame and position and has to work really hard for it.

Moon and Saturn.

You will excel into areas where you require to do deep research.

You like going to the roots of the problems.

You make great researcher.

Moon is also food, so you can also make a great cook.

Moon is also medicine, so you can get into pharmacy as well.

If you have South node with moon and Saturn then you can get into herbal medicines and if you have north node with Saturn and moon you can get into modern medicines.

Venus and Saturn.

Venus is beauty, luxury, clothes, brands.

Hence, native can work into textile or in beauty industry.

Native with this combination can also open their own brand and promote themselves.

Male native with this combination gets highly independent wife.

Mercury and Saturn.

Such people make great CA, and auditor.

Such natives can find faults easily which others won't be able to notice.😅

They can go proofreading and writing, coding, AI and data analytics.

Mercury is also books, so they can buisness related to books as well.

Here, this combination makes natives to loose intrest in sexual activities as well.

Jupiter and Saturn.

Jupiter is knowledge, here native would be highly knowledgeable.

Native can become teacher, counselor, and spiritual teacher.

Mars and Saturn.

This great combination, as Mars pushes Saturn to perform.

Mars represents land, property, real estate.

Native with such combination can get into rela estate, work related to property and land.

Mars is also automobiles so native can get into cars and automobiles as well.

South node and Saturn.

South node is spirituality and occult.

Here, native can get into spirituality, occult, and healers.

However, this combination causes lot of fluctuations in your work life and native has to change their work or work place often.

South node is also microorganisms, so native can go into microbiology or study about minute creatures.

South node is also detachment and cuts, so natives can become surgeon, doctors and lab related work.

North node and Saturn.

North node is shadow planet, any work related or that deals with shadow would be suitable.

Photography, videography, youtuber, bloggers, work that involves Internet and camera are great for such natives.

North node is technology and expansion, native can get into technical stream as well.

However, this combination causes lot of delays in work life, and also sometimes natives could suffer from evil eyes.

Such natives should NOT reveal more about their work to others.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hello! Love your writing! I had a question about the Outlaw. How many people has he kidnapped prior to the reader? Did he fall in love with anyone else? Thanks!

Thank you for writing in and enjoying my work, my Sweet <3 !

The Outlaw has kidnapped, give or take, around 10-15 people prior to you. However, he's never loved any of them. Sure, he's considered a few of them attractive - suited for the purpose of self-satisfaction (be it sexual, egotistical, or just downright sadistic) - but they never resonated with him the way you do.

He can't place it - what makes you so different from the rest. Sure, you have the fight in you that they had: you dress like them, speak like them, even. But you've managed to fascinate him, to peak his curiosity in a way that has evolved into a deadly fashion of infatuation; the garment of love's Venus. Her evil twin.

I hope this answers your question, my Lovely ^^ !

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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[i-bit-the-dust-it-was-yummy]

so uh im finally going to make a post about this.

there is a very well known hannibal user that i wont be naming (cough cough @suchawrathfullamb) that has been doing some realllly bad stuff for awhile that i feel like more people should be aware of everything that has been going on that i have seen so far

UNDER THE CUT WILL INCLUDE: ALLEGATIONS OF MAKING AI ART AND NOT DISCLOSING THAT, MENTIONS OF NONCON, BEING AN OVERALL HYPOCRITE AND GETTING PISSED AT PEOPLE FOR NO REASON, SHIPPING WINCEST, MAKING REALLY SEXUAL THINGS ABOUT ACTUAL PEOPLE, PUBLIC SEXTING SOMEONE IN ASKS, DISCLOSING THEIR FAVORITE SEX POSITIONS WHERE ANYONE CAN SEE, AND STEALING PEOPLES IDEAS/ HEADCANNONS AND GETTING MORE RECOGNITION FOR IT

(THE THINGS DISCUSSED IN THIS POST ARE KIND NSFW SO LIKE IF YOU DONT LIKE THAT DONT READ)

if you don’t want to hear about any of these things don’t click thanks ❤️

during this i will be addressing lamb with they/them pronouns because i don’t want to misgender anyone and if im wrong sorry i do it with anyone.

hi, im panic and for the past like 2 months ive been talking with @sqeeebus (you can find at least one post on his acc about this that also goes in detail) about all of the things that have been going on and i feel like ive waited too long to actually go on here and talk about it all. during the time from lamb changing their pfp from the bloody s1 e1 will (and a bit before) to now they have gone down hill and done things that include but are not limited to: sexualizing hugh dancy and mads mikkelsen without warning, making a post that has now been deleted where they say hannibal would noncon will, publicly sexting someone through asks, disagreeing with someone’s joke and being hostile with them and making a fight over it, liking a persons post but then posting a post very similar to it without credit, shipping 2 purely biological brothers from a show, talking about their sexual life and preferred sexual position to at least thousands of people including minors, hearing an actor disagree with their opinion and becoming an anti- season 4 person after being very pro- season 4, and what set me to finally make this post: making what is believably ai art without disclosing that it is and leading over 50 people each post to believe it isn’t.

1. SEXUALIZING HUGH DANCY AND MADS MIKKELSEN

see i feel like i wouldn’t need to explain to an *allegedly* grown woman that this isn’t okay but i do, mads mikkelsen and hugh dancy are REAL people with REAL wives and REAL children and REAL grandchildren. sexualizing fictional characters body’s isnt necessarily great when you think about it but the reason it’s okay is that the character is just that, A CHARACTER. im going to explain rpf as well here because ive seen allegations of lamb shipping madancy (rpf ) and i really think it’s weird that i have to explain why it’s weird and wrong, the people you are shipping are REAL and not you’re playthings. the people you’re reading fanfiction are most likely at home with they’re respected families because that’s just it: rpf is REAL person, fiction meaning that they’re REAL.

2. HANNIBAL NONCON INCIDENT

so, i was here when this was posted but, lamb has deleted all evidence of it. basically lamb made a post about that hannibal would noncon Will if given the chance. (see the only reason is hannibal: big evil strong daddy man and will: tiny small baby) now obviously lamb got a lot of backlash from this and what do "famous" people like lamb do in situations like this you ask? hide, deny, or even gaslight. no apology because lamb obviously never feels guilty for anything they do. this will be clear by the end of this post.

3. SEXTING SOMEONE THROUGH ASKS PUBLICALLY

just as it seems really, lamb and someone they had some kind of pet name for (i think it was husband idr) started sexting one night without warning (as per usual). so i remember this but very vaguely because i was eating dinner at restaurant and im pretty sure the lamb face reveal and sex position talk happened the same night so kinda overwhelming you know? the two of them were sexting the way you would if you wanted to do that with your significant other PRIVATELY. it was over all kinda weird.

4. BEING AN ASS

yeah. basically this happens really often with lamb now but the one im talking about happened right before the pfp change. so lamb made a post that was basically: 'will had no empathy hes evil, he didn’t feel anything for beverly, he doesn’t feel anything about anyone and if you don’t understand that you’re stupid.' now if you watched the show and you aren’t terrible at characrizing or ableist you would know will may be a serial killer but he also has a EMPATHY DISORDER, you know the thing that kind of makes you care/ empathize too much?? buut the person made a joke on the post not actually trying (at least i don’t think?) not to rile up lamb and said something along the lines of: 'someone spent too much time with fredrick chilton' now it was not that but it was similar. and lamb didn’t like it and it started and argument that wasn’t needed that lamb had most of the hostile behavior in.

(the person this happened with is @iconsumethesoulsofthedamned)

5. COPYRIGHT!!! COPYRIGHT???

so if you can’t tell im one of the people this happened to and i can testify this by having lambs notifs on and my own. basically i made some post about what i believed some characters charictazation was (i think it was will but it might have been hannibal) later lamb liked the post and soon after i got a notification that basically the same things i had said lamb posted, AND didn’t leave credit. i know this has happened to others because im not that great with characterization. (also this my be petty but lamb has reblogged one of my posts and reiterated my exact same claim and multiple people said things like "so real lamb" etc)

6. WINCEST

need i say more? ACTUALLY YES I DO! they’re BROTHERS. i don’t even watch supernatural and ik from friends that they’re full 100% blood brothers, no half, step, or adoption you can blame your disgustingness on (and even then it wouldn’t help any).

7. DIARYS ARE CHEAP GUYS. AND WARNINGS ARE FREE??

much like all lambs posts, there was no heads up, no hey if you don’t like nfsw go, just boom. i salute those who cannot handle (sorry no better way to say it) nfsw things and had to go out of your way to block lamb just to get it off your dash. so those who have not been "gossiping" about the downfall of lamb or even seen these posts, basically lamb face revealed and people went nuts. it had started off as (nothing is word for word) asks like: 'wowww lamb youre so pretty!!!' to asks like:' LAMB WHATS YOUR FAVORITE POSTION DURING SEX?' this was a big haha what when i opened tumblr because i needed a hannibal ref when pinterest want help. so posts like this spurred lamb to make polls for themself for people to guess what their favorite postion during intercourse is. haha why. i should’ve stayed in the good omens fandom they really just make polls on the characters preferred pronouns, not this.

8. LAMBS POST- CON TANTRUM

so pre mads and hughs cons lamb was VERY pro- season 4. but upon hearing what the ACTORS think would happen they were very grouchy (along with others). now it wasn’t both the actors lamb was pissed at, it was hugh. so i think most people know about it, buuut basically hugh gave very will coded answers, and by that i mean he said will wasnt in love with hannibal straight away. now all things aside, that is very in character, wills not gonna jump off the cliff with hannibal and start taking/ giving it doggystyle while saying i love you, that would never in a million years happen. he is shown being very back in forth with hannibal, and yes he’s in love with him, BUT WILL ALWAYS DENIES. jumpingoff a cliff isn’t going to change that. now to my actual point, lamb started making posts about rethinking a ton of stuff and all that crap over ACTORS ANSWERS. in case you don’t know, mads and hugh don’t write hannibal and will. that means that the things they say shouldn’t be tested as the gospel, more of a simple headcannon. lamb, though, treats it like it like it is as canon as chilton getting burned, and for this lamb is angry, in lambs mind they see hannigram as super domestic, which they could be but not in the way they think. hannibal and Will aren’t gonna get married and if we do ever get hannibal s4 id call myself lucky if we got a hannigram kiss.

9. THE FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN

i would not be saying this to anyone no matter my feelings about them so if im wrong i apologize to lamb. i believe it was yesterday or the day before that lamb posted this (im showing proof for this because it’s easily accessible rn)

and one of these is obviously ai (the hannigram one) and the other one i don’t know if it’s ai or a heavily edited photo. if you’re unfamiliar with lamb in the past they used to ask others for art because they had no art abilities. lamb has also never brought up ever drawing beforehand (very different from their writing). there are also a few other things that have brought me to the conclusion that its ai but unless someone asks i don’t want to write it all out. if you aren’t aware ai art is VERY harmful to actual artists and is not good to use. ai art is similar to having an ai write your fanfiction or book you’re reading and most peoplendont want that. ai art is a very big no-no in most art spaces and i believe it is on tumblr as well. again, i would never say this to anyone and if im wrong i really do apologize.

if you made it through thank you, and if you have any questions or want me to explain further ill reblog with whatever you need (that im able to get).

[dragonseeds]

if only because i'm seeing takes about daemon being incapable of not perceiving the women he cares about as sexual objects because of how sexist he is. oh and doesn't remember what his mom looks like so his mind is presenting her as his most sexually appealing fantasy...like what do you even say to this.

i genuinely don’t knowww. it’s…. certainly a reading. like just jumping straight past “it’s sad that daemon can’t remember his mother and instead has to create an image of her that’s basically an amalgam of the other women in his family and horrific that his longing for her is manifesting sexually due to the trauma of dynastic incest + alys attempting to mind break him” to “once again daemon is uniquely evil and sexist and such a targ supremacist that alyssa looks like a generically HOT ai generated targ baddie in his nightmares.” if you ignore the fact that writers have also changed the hair colors of other targaryen characters like rhaenys to make them more easily clocked by general audience members as targs and have made zero effort to give any of them correct eye colors it could work.

it’s… interesting to me that he’s the character through whom the effects of the dynastic incest has been explored the most and he’s also the character people are most vocally disgusted by, while his status as a victim and product of incest is either overlooked or turned into a joke (esp re: viserys). i don’t know what to say to that either. obviously he’s also a perpetuator—but again that is not actually unique to him. how old were aegon and helaena when alicent forced them to marry? helaena is supposed to be 17 this season, according to the wiki—and the twins are toddlers, so…? how old was laena when her parents tried to betroth her to viserys and told her he wouldn’t bed her until she was 14? how old was aemond when aegon took him to a brothel to “get it wet,” and when he was coveting helaena as an object and symbol of what he thinks should have been his? at what age did alyssa and baelon understand that their parents meant them to be sexual partners? like? they’re all in this cycle, they’re all traumatized by it from a very young age, and every male character in westeros is sexist to some degree because the subjugation of women is a necessary component in the maintenance of the feudal system. daemon’s arc this season has actually been a genuinely thoughtful and honest of exploration of what it actually means for him to have crowned his wife and knelt before her in this violently patriarchal society (in addition the nightmares & torment) it’s like. wild that people aren’t getting that aspect of it because i think it’s fascinating.

[daffodil-mania]

The Itch

Stanford era!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader. Swearing, sexually suggestive/explicit language, mentions of drugs and alcohol. No smut (yet); this one’s a good ole fashioned slow burn. Takes place around 2002-ish

Author’s notes: Helloooo! I said I had something longer, and here it is. I intend on turning this into a multi-part fic, so keep your peepers peeled! I didn’t post sooner because while I had ideas for this fic, nothing was really clicking for me. However, @uncouth-the-fifth recently shared some Sam AI chatbots she’d made (which I highly recommend you use btw) and after using one of them my creative juices started flowing again, and out popped this fic. Enjoy!

—

The air is thick with the competing smells of booze, weed, and sweat. Some fratbro’s shitty spin on house music is booming at a deafening volume throughout the house, and all around you people are drinking, grinding; generally having the kind of time you’d expect at a frat party. It’s Valentine’s Day, so the amount of couples making out in corners has increased drastically, much to your chagrin. Your friends had dragged you here under the pretense that you all needed to blow off some steam after another grueling week of tests and homework. You have to admit, the idea had been tempting; you don’t consider yourself a party person, but you’d had this itch to do something outside of your normal routine. The itch had developed suddenly a week ago while you were standing in line at your favorite coffee place, debating on ordering your regular cup of joe or really spicing it up and asking for a shot of espresso when you saw him.

He was good-looking, sure; tall, despite his seated position at one of the tables, broad-shouldered and well-built with these soft hazel eyes that just screamed “kicked puppy in need of someone to take care of me”. But none of that is what kept your gaze on him. No, as ridiculous as it sounds, it was his hands. Huge, muscular hands that made your mouth water just thinking about them. Ten long, thick fingers that dexterously flew across his keyboard as he typed. You were hit with a barrage of hand-related fantasies ranging from dirty to holy fuck that’s dirty when the barista cleared her throat and brutally snapped you back to reality, causing you to stammer out an apology and place your drink order with haste.

Ever since then, you’d been haunted by the memory of those hands and felt “the itch”, as you called it. It was an aching want that existed deep in your gut, and it demanded satisfaction. It clawed at you, showing you images of those ginormous hands pawing you, squeezing your neck, your tits, anything they could reach. You’d done your best to resist, throwing yourself into your coursework, hoping desperately that if you ignored the itch it would go away. But it didn’t. So here you are, at a frat party, trying to find a way to scratch your itch so that the ghost of those hands could be put to rest and stop tormenting you.

You take a sip of the drink you’ve been nursing all night in a secluded corner of the living room and make a face. It tastes like piss and vodka’s evil offspring. You look around for a place to abandon your solo cup, but decide that you should properly dispose of it so no one knocks it over, or worse, drinks it. You crane your neck over the sea of sweaty, horny college students and map a path to the kitchen. Your friends had abandoned you long ago in favor of going onto the floor to dance, so your trip to the kitchen will have to be a solo mission. You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage and preparing yourself for the bumpy journey ahead, and plunge into the crowd. Things are going smoothly enough and it looks like you’ll actually make it to the kitchen unscathed when someone suddenly slams into you. Thankfully, you’re pushed into a sorority girl, so you manage to not eat shit or get trampled to death. Unfortunately, this crushes your drink against your chest, drenching the entire front of your top. Miraculously, the sorority sister is spared, and she doesn’t even seem to register the fact that she’s been bumped into.

You turn around to glare at whoever just ruined your favorite shirt and come face-to-face with a solid wall of muscle. You have to look up to get a good look at your assailant, and you see it’s him. The guy from the coffee shop. All of your anger is quickly replaced by an interesting cocktail of shock, embarrassment, and need. You thought he was big in the coffee shop, but standing before him now makes it clear just how fucking massive this guy is. He clears six feet easily, and you can tell he’s got miles of muscle underneath the henley he’s layered under a faded tee shirt.

You manage to drag your eyes away from his chest and see that all of the color has drained from his face, puppy-dog eyes apologetic and wide with shock. He’s speaking to you, but with your height difference and the ear-splitting music you can’t hear him. You pull a confused expression and have to shout “what?” a few times over the music before it gets through to him that you can’t hear a fucking word he’s said. He looks around quickly, then gestures for you to follow him. You do, confusion and nerves swirling around sickly in your stomach. Eventually he leads the two of you to a quieter corner of the room, and resumes his rapid-fire apologizing. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear, I was just trying to get away from my friend who kept trying to introduce me to this girl and I—“

You hold up a hand to silence him and force yourself to smile. “It’s okay, shit happens, I get it.” He shakes his head, unsatisfied with your response. “No, no, seriously. I feel awful about your shirt—“ you don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to look at your front, and you realize with a blush that he could probably see down your v-neck if he wanted to, “—and I really want to make it up to you. I have an extra shirt in my car if you want to change, and I’ll get you a new drink, I promise.”

The poor guy looks like he’s about to have an anxiety attack, so you wave your hand again before laying it on his arm. His eyes snap to where your hand has curled around his forearm and you jerk it away, uncertain of what possessed you to touch him. Great, now he thinks I’m some kind of perv. You clear your throat before you start talking again. “Um, yeah, a-a new shirt would be cool. Oh, but don’t worry about the drink though; it uh, it sucked. I was actually on my way to get rid of it when you bumped into me, so maybe spilling it was a blessing in disguise.” Jesus Christ, you’re rambling and stuttering like a kid asking out their high school crush. You nervously tuck some loose hair behind your ear and try to inhale some calming breaths, cringing at your social ineptitude, and look up at him. He’s smiling kindly, revealing two adorable dimples that make you want to melt into a warm gooey puddle on the floor.

“Yeah, I tried one of the drinks earlier; I don’t know what was in it but it was not good.” He scrunches up his face and pretends to gag, which pulls some genuine laughter out of you. His grin gets wider and it makes his eyes crinkle, and this has your stomach doing somersaults and your pussy clenching around nothing. The song changes and after a smiley beat passes he leans in a little closer and tells you his name. “My name’s Sam,” he practically shouts into your ear, “Sam Winchester.” You turn your head ever so slightly so you can give him your name in return. “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” Sam straightens up and you extend a hand for him to shake. He accepts, enveloping your hand in one of his gigantic palms. You fight to keep a blush off of your cheeks. Your hands fall, but he doesn’t release you. Instead, he gives your hand a small tug, and nods over his shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll take you to my car.”

You dutifully trail behind him, your hand still wrapped up in his. If you weren’t appreciative of Sam’s height before, you are now; he effortlessly parts the throng of people around you, allowing the two of you to walk to the door with ease. And it’s only when the two of you step out into the chill of the February night air that he lets go of your hand, which you try not to read into. You cross your arms over your chest to trap some of the warmth that is rapidly escaping your body, your still-wet top clinging coldly to your frame. There are a few wasted stragglers on the lawn, and the music starts to fade as Sam leads you to his car. You’re mildly surprised when you see what it is; a black Honda Civic sedan. It’s a newer model, but it’s nothing fancy. You get the sense that while Sam isn’t very materialistic, he takes pride in his possessions and their upkeep. He pops open the trunk as you rub your arms, wishing that you had opted for more layers than just your v-neck long sleeve and a lacy camisole. You glance back at the house, wondering what your friends are doing as Sam goes through the trunk. After a minute he produces a black Metallica tee. You accept it gratefully and smile at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Metallica? You’ve got good taste.”

Sam clears his throat and awkwardly looks at his feet, his expression a bit pained. “Actually, it is… was… my brother’s.” He says, looking up at you through his bangs. You nod, and decide against probing for more information. He’s a stranger doing you a kindness; you don’t need to know about whatever family history that is capable of eliciting such a reaction from him. You glance at the road and then back at the house before looking at Sam. Your cheeks feel warm. “Um, do you mind covering me? Sorry, I know that—“

Sam cuts you off, flustered. “No, god yeah, of course. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think.” He admits sheepishly, redness creeping up his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. You shake your head. “It’s okay, really. Um, and thank you, for the shirt, I mean. You really didn’t have to.” His expression softens and he gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “‘Course I did. I’m the one who bumped into you like a total jerk. This is the least I can do.” His response only serves to intensify your burgeoning crush on him.

You both stand there for a minute, just looking into each other’s eyes, something similar to tension but too clumsy and new to be called that building between you. A fierce shiver courses through you, and Sam apparently remembers that you asked him to cover you. He maneuvers the two of you so that the car is blocking you from any prying eyes lurking on the street, and he places himself in front of you to shield you from the people in the house. He turns his back to you, giving you some more privacy, and you murmur a quick thank you as a burst of heat goes straight to your core.

You quickly shed yourself of both your camisole and your top, thankful to be in a dry shirt that doesn’t reek of alcohol any more. You tap his arm to let him know when you’re done, and he turns to face you. He sees that you’re still shivering and wordlessly goes back to his trunk, leaving you a bit perplexed and holding your sopping bundle of shirts in your hands. He pulls out a gray zip-up hoodie and stands before you again. “You look cold,” he says, obviously. It’s a sweet gesture, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Sam holds his hand out for your shirts so that you can pull on his hoodie, and you swap your bundles. As you pull on the hoodie, you tell him, “I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me. Most people would’ve just let me freeze.” You chuckle quietly, racking your brain for some other way to express your gratitude without sounding like a broken record.

Sam shakes his head, and another sweet, sympathetic smile graces his face. “Y/N, again, it was the least I could do, believe me.” You nod, and then gesture vaguely for your shirts. “Oh, right,” he says with a small laugh, adorably absentminded, and hands them over. As you go to take them, your fingertips brush against his, and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. Deliciously, wonderfully electrocuted. The contact causes you to jerk your hand away, dropping the shirts. “Shit, sorry—“ you curse, and the two of you drop to your knees simultaneously to retrieve them. Your hands meet again, but this time the contact lingers. You lift your head to find Sam’s eyes boring into yours, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. And that’s when you feel it again.

The itch.

—

Author’s notes: I know this wasn’t a *super* long fic but I’m slowly pushing myself to write longer stuff. One of these days I’ll write something longer than 2,000 words, I promise. Anyways, thanks for reading!

[nexysworld]

☆ Emergency Commissions ☆

I don't typically push my comms that hard. Recently some personal stuff has come up that has made my financial situation go south. So I'm reopening them again.

Get them through my Etsy or Ko-fi.

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☆ Chatbot Comm - $10

General Terms and Conditions

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☆ I will not write: Anything relating to scat/feces & flatulence, vomit in a sexual capacity, underage characters/reader, mommy kink, race play, certain age play (DDLG and daddy kink is ok). ☆ Ship fics as well as x reader are ok. I can do m/m, m/f, w/w, and or poly as well.

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☆ Bot are posted to Character AI, Spicychat Ai, and Janitor ai depending on the commission. Links are provided within 48 hours of the comm typically. ☆ I have to abide by the ToS for each respective website. ☆ Each bot will be made public by default. Upon request, I can make a bot unlisted, this means only you can access it through the link. (Janitor AI does not have this feature, all bots must be public for you to use. If you request a private bot I will not post there.)

☆ Spicychat and Janitor AI allow explicit NSFW scenarios. CAI can

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