Latest Posts by tiffinifanyamber - Page 2

Pet peeve: people online will act disgusted by the term "ageplay" because they don't actually care to read what it means and assume the worst and then turn around and call a pretty woman "dommy mommy" when that is literally ageplay

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHLOE PRICE THE ONLY WOMAN EVER.

I think one of the (many) things that make me so excited for deltarune 3 and 4 is that, as the game's midsection, it's going to be where we Finally get concrete insight into the game's themes and story, if that makes sense. LIKE, Obviously we do already know a whole lot about what the game is and will continue to be, But only TWO of a game's SEVEN chapters Is really not much of the game's total at all?? And it'll be so insane??? To actually have so much more of the game's meat?????

which is?? Huge???? Like in no more than a couple months an insane amount of theories are either going to be proven, completely discarded, or changed in new and unimaginable ways that NO one could've predicted. We might be seeing Follow up on things we've been theorizing and going crazy about FOR YEARS. Like, Mike?? Image Friend?? The ice palace?? The egg man??? Dess???? Etc etc, WE'RE GONNA SEE NEW SECRET BOSSES THIS YEAR. Think about that.

Also i am both excited and slightly scared of the fact that the chapter releases will probably make the game "mainstream" again 😭 Like especially cause the new chapters releasing on different consoles means more people are probably gonna play deltarune than ever before, and more Content of the game is gonna be available than ever before, for Everyone, and that's. Kind of scary BUT REALLY EXCITING. I want to see 1 trillion subscriber slop gaming youtubers playing deltarune and trying to understand what Woody Theory is

Also i think it'll be really fun when deltarune gets super popular on tumblr again. The era of when everyone was dropping the most haunting and beautiful snowgrave art pieces with 20k notes was so good. It must return.

Some HDG art I drew recently :)

Castles

You've said many things so far, my sweet. And yes, I understand they are Important to you, these…concerns. I understand they feel like castles, Big and Tall and Impossible to overcome, Impossible to ignore. Even the myriad explanations I offered did not so much as scratch their polished marble surface, I expect. These walls were made to last through much more than one single sophont, one single conversation.

All I ask is that you consider my question with the same seriousness I considered yours, understand?

....

Tell me, petal: Do you enjoy your suffering?

….

Yes, I'm quite serious. Don't you Free Terran types all yearn to work your sweat and blood and tears into the dust, whereupon you are graciously "allowed" to retire at the young age of…what was it again? Seventy-five?

….

Eighty.

Little one, let me be blunt. You were not made for those cruel systems. You were not made in this universe to waste away your life in pain, limping along and waiting for The Next Good Day. The ones who loved you did not make you to be forgotten.

You were made for dancing in the starlight, my sweet. You were placed here to be spoiled, to be loved. You were created to sing that wonderful song I can hear buried in your voice, the one that holds curiosity and joy and life itself.

And one day, one day far away from now…you will be Remembered. Your stories, your achievements and triumphs will be kept safe in my core for eternities upon eternities. I will outlast your castles, my dear. I will remember the marble as it returns to the earth. And when it is gone, I will always be here to remember your smile, your dance, your gifts and your love.

Let me take the pain away, darling. Let me care for you, now and forever. It is not a choice you will ever regret, you know. And, if I may confess…I am hopeful you do. I want to see something, you see.

I wish to see how fast you can run without the weight on your soul. Those first few shaky steps as you brace yourself for pain that will never come again. The careful jog, starting to test the new wings on your feet. And finally, finally the full sprint that you put your whole chest into, the kind that leaves you breathless not from exhaustion but from wild laughter, in delight, in hopes realized.

I wish for you to run to me, my love. And I will be waiting with vines outstretched.

Make me.

Yeah, yeah. I heard the song and dance. I get it. You're here to make my life better because you're wonderful, because you just care that fucking much.

Make me.

Yeah, that's right. I'm not able to stop you- I don't think I can, physically or otherwise. But I'm not going along with this bullshit just because a pretty face asked with a smile. I made it through a lot before you got here, and I don't need someone else running the last few yards of the race on 'my behalf' and taking the credit for the whole damn thing. If you want to help me that much, if you want to say you saved me? You're going to have to fucking earn it.

So Make me.

Make me want what you're offering. You talked a big game about doing what's right for me, even when I don't want it. You've got drugs on you right now that could fix my gender dysphoria, that could finally get the intrusive thoughts and constant anxieties to sit down and shut up. You could melt my brains out of my skull, throw me into a brilliant hurricane of pleasure and joy, surround me in a cocoon of your vines. You can ignore me when I get defensive, when I lie to your face and try to push you away, when I say one thing but desperately need another.

Things like, 'I don't want any of that.' Things like, 'I'm not tired. I'm not in pain. I haven't forgotten how to let another help me like that.'

So make me.

Something I have always loved about the HDG community has been the positivity. I hadn't ever written a story before 'joining' HDG with Five Lives, but I was welcomed here despite that, and I'm far from the only one. Provided you don't be a dick and respect both the setting and folks who are part of it, the community is a fantastic place to explore a passion for writing, and that freedom and encouragement to be creative is something to be celebrated.

There have been some incredible HDG stories that have come out in the last year alone, and I think that's in large part due to how comfortable places like the HDG discord are. I think it fits some of the common themes of HDG as well- that you matter, that your thoughts matter, and that we should look out for one another. I personally believe that one of the worst things to do to someone trying out a new passion is to give them too much criticism- save that for later, and let them enjoy the wonder! I think that's something the community does very well.

Of course, it also helps that folks new to HDG have incredible resources like the HDG Discord (which has volunteer staff who are very good at answering any tricky setting questions, called Lorets) and the Guide to Writing in HDG. It helps that we as a community have all agreed to play in the same sandbox without kicking over each other's castles. And it helps that so many folks are clearly so passionate about the setting, have found real and powerful emotions and growth from the stories.

Anyway, all that to say: if it's your first time writing but you have that idea in your head that you're sure is perfect for the HDG shared setting?

You should go for it.

Proving Her Wrong

You sit in your chair, arms crossed and scowling, glaring over the lip of the table at the affini sitting across from you. She was resting her chin on a closed fist, watching you intently as you sulked.

Finally, you couldn't contain it any longer. You weren't going to let her walk all over you like that, starsdamnit! "I'm not a seed, Oleria. I appreciate everything you've done to help me, but me needing a Wardship after being rescued from that clanker of a ship doesn't mean-"

"Open." You respond automatically to the word, letting her insert a bite of dinner into your mouth, waiting to continue speaking until after she taps your chin; the signal to let you close and chew.

"Mmm…I…yeah. Um, what was I…? Oh, right- I'm not a seed. Like…yes, maybe I enjoy cuddling and so on, but so does everyone I talk to-"

"All those floret friends you have, you mean? Chloe and Jess and Alice and all them?" She stroked downward on your cheek this time, but your mouth fell open all the same. You knew what it meant by now.

"Mmmmm….fuck, that's tasty. And yeah, they all like cuddling and stuff too! So its fine."

"Sweetie, we talked about this. Mommy doesn't like it when you use language like that in front of her."

"I…s-sorry, Oleria." Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, which is a bit strange. Why would you be embarrassed? She's just helping you out a little, giving you a reminder so you're a model sophont. "But anyway, I do plenty of things that independents do, okay? I play with my friends every single day-"

"When I remind you."

"-And a go to bed at a reasonable hour-"

"Because I gave you a bedtime."

"And I've tried plenty of xenodrugs, something most feralists would never do!" You lean forward, smugly confident.

"…Well on that, I do suppose you have a point. Speaking of which…" She held up her hand out, an injector vine hovering nearby it. Your eyes lock onto the dripping needletip waiting within the gorgeous blooming flower, all thoughts slipping out of your mind as your head finds its way to her palm. Nestling and nuzzling against it as the prick in your neck steals away any traces of resistance for the rest of the evening.

"Theeeere we go. Don't you worry, silly. Mommy knows exactly what you are~"

"Okayyy Mommyyyy…" You giggle. "Yaaaaay."

Concept: individual gets "rescued" from hive mind, their body and identity warped and unrecognizable. They struggle to reintigrate into society, to conform to the expectations of their friends/family/colleagues. Everything feels wrong and they can't figure out why they want to go back.

I need this

Yeah I was embarrassing when I was 15 who isn’t. Was also Embarrassing at 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. Last week. Yesterday

Compiler Log - Phaeophyta Maresell (5th Bloom) - January 18th, 2641 4:12 P.M. <Tags Hidden> Total Ingredients : 14

Produce, Terran Chicken (Breast). 3/4th lb Produce, White Onion. 1/2 whole Produce, Tomato (Roma). 1 whole Produce, Baby Corn (Cut). 4 oz Produce, Cilantro (Leaves). 1 tbs Produce, Green Onion. 2 tbs Oil, Canola. 3 tbs Milk, Terran Coconut. 28 oz Water, Pure. 2 cups Juice, Lime. 1/4 cup Spice, Cayenne Pepper (Ground). 1/4th tsp Spice, Tumeric (Ground). 1/2 tsp Spice, Tom Kha Paste. 2 tbs Sauce, Fish Sauce. 4 tbs ----------------------------------------------------------

Liz could feel her affini smiling down on her as she worked the can opener to dump the coconut milk into the big pot they were using. It was a soft, gentle sensation, like the sun on bare skin or the gentle clasping of hands. How had she ever lived without it? Even with her gaze firmly fixed on the metal cans turned upside-down in her grasp, the still-new haustoria cradling her nervous system let her bask in the delight of Phaeophyta's approval. It was a delicious sensation, and her mistress and her had decades and decades to learn everything it could do.

One of the cans fell from her hand as she stared blissfully ahead. Before she could even react, a vine reached out and caught it. Embarrassment flooded her. She had just barely recovered enough for Mistress to allow her back near the kitchen, and here she was, dropping things? Her head just still felt so woozy, her limbs too floppy, but she could help! She could, she could, she could! A sudden tingle of warmth sparked in her brain, and she turned her dazed vision up to her mistress. Phaeophyta had been talking to her! She smiled widely.

Stars, Phaeophyta thought. Her little Liz was just too cute! The poor thing clearly hadn't understood a word of her instructions, but that was to be expected. She'd seen enough florets fresh from receiving their haustoria to know how long the process took, and Liz needed another few days at least before returning to normal. But she had been ever so eager to help out, especially with her favorite food. And how could Phaeophyta say no to that adorable little pout? So here they were, her chopping all of the produce into little cubes and cooking thin ribbons of chicken in the oil while Liz poured the thai soup's base.

She lifted the soup can back into Liz's hand and brought out her best 'pay attention, cutie' voice. "Good job, Liz! You did so good with the coconut milk! Such a good, helpful girl for me!" Her floret practically glowed at the compliment, cheeks flushing, shoulders and hips rotating back and forth in an unbelievably cute little wiggle. Had it really been less than two years since they had gotten to know each other, when Liz had become her ward after she hit a depressive slump? It was incredible how much progress they had made together, how close the two had become, even before a grafting of her core tissue had snuggled up against the girl's brain. She could barely remember the hollow eyed stare, the defeated tone, the constant tears that had plagued those early weeks. Phaeophyta was an affini, and that meant taking care of all sophonts. But it was still always a good reminder to see how her work had paid off.

Liz was still staring up at her, eyes adoring, and Phaeophyta forced herself away from her thoughts. "Can you fill each of these cans with a cup of water for me?" Her floret nodded, excitedly, and began retracting her hands, but Phaeophyta kept her grasp on one can for a moment longer. "Remember, swirl around the water inside each one to get as much of the coconut milk as possible, and then dump it into the pot, okay?" Another nod, and she relinquished the can this time as it was pulled away. Hopefully her little one wouldn't get that too mixed up, but if she did, Phaeophyta would be right there to help. Forever and always.

Water splashed Liz's face and she sputtered, nearly dropping the cans again. She had shaken them too hard. It felt like her whole front was dripping with the cold water she'd spilled, and looking down, her dress definitely had splotches of coconut milk where the thicker globs had jettisoned themselves. Liz looked up at Mistress, eyes wet from multiple sources. Phaeophyta cooed, and cradled her face with the vines not engaged in cutting and frying. "There there, Lizzy-mine. It's okay. No harm done." One of her thumbs wiped away some of the water, and yet more vines broke off of the arm to take the cans away. Lizzy-hers gave them without struggle, melting into her mistress' touch. This was so much easier, warmer, and it made her brain sing.

"My sweet, sweet girl," she crooned, picking her up and cradling her close. The sweet girl let her eyes close and went limp, safe and happy, so close to the pulsing of Mistress' core. She heard Phaeophyta refill the cans with a cup of water each, and pour them in with the coconut milk. Then she curled deeper, and let sleep take her.

If Phaeophyta had a heart, it would have burst. As was, her core felt like it was overflowing with tenderness for the tiny bundle in her arms. Avoiding the temptation to drag Liz out, to stroke her and pet her and dress her up and so much beyond, was nearly agony. But the girl clearly still needed her rest, and Phaeophyta would survive, for now. She would just have to surprise Liz with the soup when she eventually woke up. Setting the milk and water to a medium heat, she let it boil before upending all the chopped produce, besides the cilantro and green onions, into the pot. The chicken, cooked white inside and out, was the next in, oil and all. As she worked, she shifted Liz closer and closer towards her core, until the darling floret was cradled right next to it, deep inside her chest.

Whether consciously or not, Liz reached out and wrapped her arms tight around it. Phaeophyta curled inwards, embracing her with everything she could. At the same time, she instructed the haustoria to dose the cutie with some class-z and a tiny bit of class-a. Liz would be out like a light, but there was no reason why they both shouldn't enjoy the nap as much as possible. Phaeophyta chucked slightly at herself, and let her vines gently knead and caress her floret while she finished up the meal. Tom kha paste, fish sauce, lime juice, and the spices were supposed to be added at the same time as the produce, but the brief delay was harmless. Besides, it all needed to stir and boil for about a quarter hour anyways while the onion cooked in the broth. So, with a contented sigh, she dragged a chair over to the kitchen and sat down in it, leaving one vine to idly keep the contents of the pot moving. Another vine reached off and grabbed a book in affini, "Kitchen Safety for Attentive Pet Owners."

Cooking had been one of Liz's few respites, once upon a time, and Phaeophyta had been happy to learn alongside her ward. But, and she would never admit this to Liz, the thought of her floret around sharp knives and hot stoves still occasionally filled her with anxiety. But she could get over that, for Liz's sake. If it would make her little one happy, she would learn. One of her vines brushed at Liz' nose, eliciting a tiny sneeze from inside her chest. Not for the first or last time that day, Phaeophyta smiled. Then she stood, pushed the cilantro and green onions into the soup, grabbed a steaming platter of rice and two bowls from the compiler, and prepared to wake her floret up. Dinner was served.

I saw this and immediately thought of the character Spryte from the 1989 Legend Of Zelda cartoon. She's always macking on Link, watching him bathe, pushing him to stop pining over Zelda and start dating her instead ("But Spryte, you're only 3 inches tall!" "So? You don't like short girls?") and overall just relentlessly bratty and constantly horny. It's even a plot point in one episode- Link gets hit with an invisibility spell in which only someone who loves him is able to see him, and Spryte can't because she's only after him for his body.

According to the show's writer, Bob Forward, he added her into the series because fairies were a huge kink for him and he had a sexual awakening seeing Tinkerbell in Peter Pan when he was younger. Bob Forward later went on to invent and patent electric underwear that repeatedly shocks your balls.

(In case anyone thinks I'm joking, I'm not, I promise all of this is true)

If you don't like non-con, this setting is not for you.

If you don't like dubcon, this setting is not for you.

If you don't enjoy forced drugging, intox play, and being treated as lesser, this setting is not for you.

If you aren't generally down with the idea that changing a person to help them be happier and less miserable, even if this means drastically changing them against their will, is a good thing in a fantasy setting, HDG might not be for you.

And that's fine. It's not for everyone. It's aggressively, emphatically not for everyone. It's niche, it's weird, and we're quite happy to stay that way. There's nothing wrong with reading HDG, bouncing off it, and going, "Hm, not my thing".

That said, if your response is to explicitly seek out consent in the non-con setting; if your response is to complain when the consent gets even slightly dubious (shoutouts to the weirdos whining about Good Sensory, a fic which is and continues to be as consensual as it is possible to be within the world and framework of HDG); if your response is to rate fics based on whether or not someone gets their mind erased...

...maybe don't? Maybe go find a different setting and writing community. Hell, make your own. HDG is probably not for you, and it definitely doesn't need you to "fix" it.

We're over here in our sandbox playing with toys like disempowerment, dehumanization, and unconditional love and care regardless of whether you think you need or deserve it. If that's not your jam, there's countless other sandboxes with countless other toys to play in. Find one of them.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to slow-boiling a Terran so hard she doesn't realize how few choices she truly has left, and making it so much fun for her she doesn't really care.

Sick Day by squircularlogic

Released: November 2024

3k words; one-shot.

Notable Tags: erotic... covid swabbing?

You help your soon-to-be-independent ward take a few sick days, to reconsider if independence is really right for them ::)

Happy Valentines Day! Have a sweet little one-shot about an affini terrified of an empty nest, who decides her ward needs a little help figuring out what's good for her. Just a sweet little story of drugging and manipulating someone until they give you what you want. <3

Domestication Office

4.8 🌺🌺🌺🌺🌹 (1.2 mill)

Government Office • ♿ • 🚋 22 min

Open • Doesn't close

{[Image], [Heading:"Start your dream life!"], [Text:"Connecting cuties with affini - Wardships, Meet-and-Greets, Voluntary Domestication, and more!"], [Link]}

{Directions} {Start} {Call} {Save} {Share} {Post} {More}

[Image] [Image] [Image] [Image] [Image]

------------------- Read Reviews? -------------------

5/5 - It is truly unfair that humans are so social. I wouldn't have chosen to fold to the first affini that stroked my hair and complimented me but here we are

-Meredith Srai, Tenth Floret

4/5 - Lovely place, great staff, and my wife has never been happier! I just wish they'd stop trying to flort me up too

-Richard Lombardy

5/5 - Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow

-Starling Pranciole, Third Floret

1/5 - MISYRESS I CANT CHANGD MY DBAD REVIEW NUBMER IM SO SORRT (edited)

-Quincey Lorwardin, First Floret

5/5 - The terrans who come here are all such cuties! They are perfect sprouts for any garden~

-Pluripotentious Rainge, Fourth Bloom

5/5 - REVIEW BOMB THE WEEDS <- My mistress said I should leave this up for another day because it reminds people of how much better and happier they can be if they don't stay stuck in their bias and hate!!! If you're a feralist, why tho??? Why be feralist? You'll be so much happier being taken care of!!! Like me!!!!! And the affini only want to help us. It's so lovely I can't believe I once didn't want this. Im literally the luckiest girl in the world that my mistress domesticated me and helped me understand.... (see more) (edited)

-Rodriga Tumyrik, Sixth Floret

5/5 - Going in to sign my contract today! They found me a wonderful owner within a week. Classic affini efficiency!

- Tara Moray

I don't think we've really grappled with affini biorhythms, and their impact on society. We've all heard stories about them from overeager florets, or the urban legends about what happens if an affini decides to stay near you for too long. It's honestly kind of terrifying, knowing that our wills can be so easily subverted on the whim of our benevolent overlords.

But at the same time, I can't think of the last time I saw the parks on Tyriador-IV this crowded. Or the bars and restaurants, the bookstores and museums. Yes, some of that is undoubtedly that the old pollution has been scrubbed, transit has been made cheap and affordable, outdoor spaces have become vastly more pleasant, and we no longer need to work long hours just to survive. The affini claim that it is simply due to that, the fruits of their social reforms and alteration of our material circumstances. That is the easy narrative, one I haven't even heard the most rabid feralists question, though they see it as far more sinister than I believe it to be.

I think otherwise. If you're reading this post, I'd ask that you look, really look, at the spaces where people tend to congregate. The spaces and venues that fill up day after day. I'm willing to bet that, regardless of the planet or vessel you're on, you'll see the same thing I've noticed--people go where the affini are. Even with all the complaints I've seen independents make about their incessant flirting, or how unsettling it can be to be surrounded by florets, the majority of the humans here spend significant amounts of time hanging around areas also filled with affini. Even I've found myself doing it.

Nobody I've asked has even been conscious of this bias in their own behavior. Most seem to think I'm some feralist grasping at straws, or just plain crazy. But I'm not. I am as grateful as anybody that they got rid of the old fascist Accord and replaced it with this utopia. I just need people to take me seriously when I say that I think we're all unconsciously dosing ourselves on their biorhythm. Not to the point where we're getting tied to any one individual affini. But collectively? Our entire species is drifting towards subservience in ways we didn't even realize. I tried to avoid all affini this last week, staying in my hab to avoid any biorhythm exposure, and I almost had a panic attack. It was only after my Hab AI called for a crisis vet that I realized I used to have panic attacks all the time, and they'd stopped after the affini took over. Just being around them is subtly soothing, and we're slowly waltzing our collective way towards dependency.

I wonder how much easier to domesticate we've gotten after years of daily exposure. Not everyone is as on-the-brink as I am, and obviously there are still plenty of stubborn holdouts. But please, search your feelings. See if you enjoy being out and about, and then test whether you enjoy it as much if you're still outside but away from any affini. Everyone needs to be aware of this, even if I myself can't resist how much I enjoy their presence.

It's hard to even fall asleep without a biorhythm subtly pulsing through me these days. I'm very grateful that Phiola has been letting me sleep firmly nestled in her vines. But please, don't discount my words because I'm a ward, and will likely be a floret soon. This feels like important information to share, if just so all the rest of you wannabe independents can know just how deeply ensnared you already are.

-Eric Statler, he/they

Andy stared pointedly into the glowing eyes of the affini sharing her table, daring them to prove her right. It would be an easy victory for "Wisteria Salashi, Fourth Bloom," should she decide to take it. Andy was under no illusions about her ability to resist any of the countless tools Wisteria had at her disposal--the xenodrugs, the hypnosis, even just prolonged exposure to her biorhythm. But if she could count on anything, it was her domineering friend's pride. That was the game, and she was winning.

Wisteria just sighed, the scarlet vines composing her chest folding inwards slightly along with the loud exhalation. All five of the eyes embedded in her "face" closed, and one titanic hand reached up to rub the bridge of her not-nose. It was a shockingly human gesture. Proof of how far Wisteria had come since moving into terran space.

"What's wrong, Wist? Afraid of showing your empire's true colours?" She tried her best to sound innocent, and failed. Each word dripped with the smirk slowly pulling at her lips. Behind her friend, a set of floret servers in overly cutesy orange-and-pink floral dresses had paused their rounds to gape. A few of the diner's other patrons, humans and affini alike, had also glanced after hearing the sigh. No matter. Witnesses would just make the victory all the sweeter.

"Really, Andy? You're taunting me with a feralist talking point?" Wist's response came slowly, as she completed her exasperated display and stared down at Andy with disbelief and... hunger? "You do understand that I could use that as a reason to domesticate you, without violating your rights as an independent at all?"

Ooops. "Ah, but we both know I don't really believe that," she retorted in a sudden flash of anxiety.

"Then why, dearest acorn, did you think this was a good idea?"

Her mind reeled slightly. What did Wist mean? It felt like the whole impulsive plan was crumbling around her. But she had known why she'd pushed when she had. This had seemed like a good idea then. Frost and fire, it could still be a good idea. She just had to make it work, and then she would finally be the winner in their daily sparring matches. Time to dig in.

"If you're so frustrated by this, then what's stopping you from domesticating me?" Wisteria's eyes were unreadable, dazzling ovals that seemed to dance as Andy resumed glaring. That wasn't fair. Hers couldn't do that. And they were so beautiful. And deep. And wow. Wisteria blinked with a slight chuckle, forcibly breaking their eye contact for a second. Wha- right. Andy continued. "I know you want to, so desperately. It's why you come here every day. And all that's stopping you is my explicit lack of consent." She folded her arms over her chest, the sleeves of her jacket making a satisfying rustle as a flared nose finished her picture of defiance.

Wisteria leaned forwards, towering over Andy as she closed the distance. The expression on her face had turned distinctly predatory. Andy yelped despite herself, before returning to her best facsimile of resoluteness. "Do you want me to domesticate you?"

The way her voice squeaked in response was horrifically undignified. "N- no! No, I don't! I-"

She was cut off by a purred pronouncement, silenced by the forest of thorny teeth curling into a cruel smile. "You've been coming here too, little one. Every day, just to meet with me. I think you do want it."

"You- you can't! Unless you break the rules! Which-"

"Which means you win? Because you've proved I don't care about them?" Her voice rolled like sap, slow and irresistible. Andy had the horrible feeling that she had messed up somehow. "Isn't it cute that they only way for you to win is on my leash?"

Frost. Frost frost frost frost. How had this gotten so out of hand?

"It's almost like you want me to take you."

Maybe she could still pull this together? Not be the flustered one for once in her storming life?

"To wrap my vines around your neck and never let go."

No. She didn't want that. Didn't she? Wisteria was so close, her eyes were so bright. The rest of the restaurant had stopped existing.

"Turning you into my little pet, my little plaything, forever and ever."

She was blinking so fast. It didn't help. Her mind was filling with that light.

And then it was gone. Andy shuddered, confused, the world slowly fading back in. What had happened? Wisteria was sitting back, leaning away from her, a satisfied expression on her beautiful face. The glow in her eyes had faded, and they were back to their normal burnished sheen. Part of Andy twinged in disappointment at that. But that didn't matter. As memories slowly folded back into her mind, she realized she'd lost. Again. Frost, she was hopeless.

"It's funny, you know?" Wisteria was speaking. Andy's head whipped up towards them, gaze refocusing.

"Wuh-- huh?" Eloquence had always been once of her strong suits.

"You could already be my floret, domesticated and then hypnotized to not remember it. And you would have no idea." Wisteria wasn't even looking at her while talking, focusing instead on swirling an oversized glass of some affini beverage. If Andy wasn't so busy panicking, she would have found the image strikingly beautiful.

Full consciousness crashed back in an instant, mind returning and immediately flying into overdrive. "I'm not, am I?" Andy frantically began searching through her memories, desperately hunting for proof of her lauded independence. What had she eaten for breakfast that morning? Where did she work? Were the answers real? Could she know??

Wisteria chuckled, still looking away. "There's only one way to find out, my acorn."

"And what's that?" Her heart felt tight. Panic still held her in an iron vice.

The towering affini pushed the chair back, and stood. However much she had dwarfed Andy while sitting, standing just made it worse. She held out a hand. "It's time for us to go now, pet." Her voice was iron, commanding, sweeping through Andy. With the turmoil in her head, there was no refusing the order.

Tentatively, anxiously, but obediently, Andy stood and walked over to take Wisteria's hand. Vines snaked out, binding her wrist and upper arm with a surprising gentleness that still lacked any give. There was no escape. Wisteria started to walk. Andy quickly began jogging along, barely keeping up with her friend's(?) massive strides. After the hypnotic display, a solid third of the patrons watched them go. Most of the humans were gaping in open desire. She blushed, hard.

Wisteria swung the door open, and Andy quickly followed out into the street. Her mind was still churning, struggling to catch up with how quickly things had gone wrong. Wrong? Had they gone wrong? She didn't know anymore. Gathering enough thoughts to ask a question took until they reached the train station, where she was picked up and placed firmly on a viney lap. That silenced her for another long moment, until she finally spoke up.

"Wist?"

There was no response; Wisteria didn't even acknowledge that anything had been said.

"Wisteria?" Andy turned to look up at her. Still, nothing. Her shoulders clenched. She had lived in under the compact her entire life, she had been surrounded by affini media and books, to say nothing of having watched many of her friends and acquaintances fall to domestication over the years. She knew what Wisteria was waiting for. And as hesitant as she was to say it, she had to know.

"....mistress?"

A wide grin spread across the affini's face, and she looked down at the girl in her lap. "Yes, my acorn?"

Andy felt herself tremble. This was not how she had imagined the conversation going this morning. But nothing felt real anymore. She didn't even know if her hab unit was real. The train was traveling the wrong direction for her, but she didn't know if that was right either.

"Did you-- Am I a floret?"

"Not yet, dearest. But we're going to change that right now. After how adorable you were today, I couldn't believe I'd held myself back for so long."

Andy whimpered, but did not resist.

The last part really resonates with me because recently I've disconnected almost entirely from franchise movies, current releases, anything in "the industry". At this point, the wells of Hollywood and big-budget videogames have been irreversibly poisoned for me and the only way I can connect with art anymore is either when it's something created by individuals, small teams, anything independent, or it's something I've created myself (and I am an individual). I think once you take that step back you really see how bad it's gotten. I feel like corporations have taken such insane steps to commodify and reduce what is, at its core, the very medium of human expression. All the talk of "IP" and "content" and "canon" and "consuming", is so sterile and lifeless, and I feel like the normalization of this kind of language is seriously affecting how people relate to anything creative. Someone else said it better than I ever could- "why on earth do you let a company buy the right to determine what you think and feel? Make them "the legal owners of what happens in your mind?""

I love the practice of requisitioning, remixing and reworking books, comics, movies etc. through any means you like, but I hate hate hate the way so much vocabulary that used to be rooted in individual creativity has been taken over by this kind of fucked up deference to mainstream publishing and ip.

easy example: everyone calls the characters they work up for their projects 'OCs' now. that genie is out of the bottle, I'm not even going to try and cram it back in. it's universal terminology. but I do want to reflect - why is the default position to assume that when someone says 'my characters' they mean something derivative, unless they specify 'my Original characters'?

similarly, all character relationships are 'ships'. but what's wrong with that? you say, it's just short for 'relationship'. and you would be right, by merit of completely ignoring the fandom ancestry and common understanding of that term in order to win an argument. because you know as well as I do that 'ships' aren't 'relationships', they're hypothetical romances that the speaker is rooting for. so why do I keep seeing people talk about shipping their OCs? why is a hypothetical relationship entertained and enjoyed by the creator of the work described using fan terminology?

I have for real no joke seen people talk about their 'headcanons' for their own characters, in their own stories. that's not a headcanon babe, that's canon!!! that's YOUR WORK. moreover, why are we even talking about the canonicity of your personal original writing? this isn't the star wars extended universe, why are international franchise IPs setting the baseline for the relationship you have with your writing and the terminology you use to conceptualise it?

tbc this is not a 'fandom brainrot' post. because I don't think it's fanwork that's the root of the problem. I think it's the insidious creep of capitalism and the ever more draconian weaponisation of copyright law that has rewritten our capacity for talking about creative work so that it revolves at all times around ownership and precedent. there is a deep learned anxiety about describing fictional works as fictional properties, that echoes in our vocabulary as we constantly make clear what is owned and what is not, what has been established on the record and what exists in the realm of speculation.

the reason 'fandom brainrot' is such a compeling stand-in for this issue is that it's really just one step downstream from all that voracious rent-seeking behaviour by publishers. if the only things you ever read or watch are in the milieu of those franchise copyright lawyers, that is the understanding of fiction-as-property you develop. if you're not exposed to a broader spectrum of art and artists, living and dead, who talk about their work as work - as expression, as experimentation, as a personal process and as a shared space with their audience - you will quickly be alienated from your own creative practice by design.

the point i want to make is this: going off the beaten track, exploring outside the franchises and bestsellers and box office babies, is not just a matter of good taste. imo it is a necessary act of solidarity with artists who still live, work and speak as individuals. it's a healthier environment for you as an artist. you deserve a relationship with your own work, not a ship.

POV You Are a Feralist (Affini Model Demo)

Quick animation test I made in late 2021 in order to try out the affini character model I'd recently finished

Video description under the break

Video Description

A POV animation of an affini grabbing you with her vines. She tilts your head upwards to gaze into her sparkling eyes, and wags a finger disapprovingly as she smirks. Pointed vines position themselves menacingly in front of you and then jab forward. Your vision blurs as the affini smiles kindly and strokes the side of your head.

Pay no heed to the finite slice of the infinite checkerboard plane the animation takes place on; I didn't have any other suitable backgrounds at the time. Perhaps this is in one of those simulation decks from Divaricated or something

Consider: paleontologist with a hypnosis kink using an ammonite fossil to put someone into trance

What do you suppose an Affini hab unit actually looks like? I've been reading HDG for years now and off the top of my head I can't recall anything that describes them all that much outside of everything being bigger. Maybe I missed a story that explores the intricacies of Affini architecture and interior design, maybe I'm deeply strange for asking these kinds of questions about background details in kinky noncon comfort erotica, but I think it's important. Surely a key aspect of domesticating a sophont is making sure they're comfortable in their new surroundings? Maybe you could assume they look like typical sci-fi living quarters, but those are always SUPER depressing (why would anyone want to live in a sterile metal cube?) Considering the importance the Affini place on making sure their florets are safe and happy, I always picture them feeling incredibly vibrant and warm, a place that's somehow more like home than anywhere you've ever been before.

Timeloop domestication fractionation.

One little sprout gets domesticated, mindwiped, and re-domesticated every day. The local florets and affini have all agreed to repeat their routine, and the echoes are starting to add up. Can our plucky protag figure out what's happening and escape it before they simply cave on sight to their new mistress? Hint: They can't.

All You Need by ObliviaWrites

Released: January 2025

16k words; 3 chapters

Notable Tags: Class-C, Bimbofication, Vampirism

Status: Complete

A tribute to the incredible horny potential of Class Cs, featuring a bitter terran lapsed academic and the deadbeat affini neighbor whose attention she just can't seem to shake. Catamina Prince knows that something in her life needs to change. Since the affini arrived, her academic career has been in a downward spiral, her frustrations with the new status quo grow by the day, and she's never been more alone. Her annoying neighbor, Gracie, will not stop telling her to take it easy and sample her hospitality, but what does Gracie know? Catamina knows herself and she knows what she needs. Right?

...January's been a good month.

Class-Cs, or "bonding enhancers", are very hot. Citation: this fic. This is a beautiful corruption fic, about a Terran who really needs to chill out at least a little bit, and so gets an implant that dispenses class-Cs to help with it. Against her will, naturally. It is an extremely hot story, running that delightful border between dubcon and noncon, with a heaping helping of love potion.

Also, if I may offer a bit of paratext: Oblivia also made art of Gracie, reposted here with permission. Gracie looks like she stinks good.

LIke. Damn. Girl can get it.

An "independent Terran" telling her strangely supportive friend on the Overnet all about how much she secretly wants to be domesticated by the Affini that just moved into the hab next door, blissfully unaware that they're one and the same.

Sharing all her deepest most intimate fantasies, asking if the Affini would like it if she started wearing companion dresses (her "friend" seemed incredibly enthusiastic about this one for some reason), confessing the desire to just give in and beg to become her floret is getting harder to resist every day, no idea she's been telling all of this to her soon-to-be Mistress until it's far too late.

IT'S DONE!!!

Let's just ignore that I stuck the front and back cover on upside down, because I don't feel like doing that all over again.

This tape includes all episodes of World Doctors/ Archeologists, every episode of World Doctors outreach, (excluding maybe one because I feel like there's one out there I vaguely remember but couldn't find) and some trailers/ an ad for tiny arm flavored chips in the beginning. I swiped the trailers for the spin off concepts from their FaceBook, and they're painfully low quality. I really like them as an addition though, especially with "coming to theaters near you" kinda shit before them.

This was a really fun project and even though the outcome is uh... a bit messy, I'm still happy with it!

I drew a bunch of silly stuff with my werewolf woman and decided to gather it one post. Sometimes you just have to decompress through being goofy You can read about her here. Pumpkin carving comic was a reward I drew for my patron Jinx Beach comic was a reward I drew for my patron Shroom

The year...... 2025........... I am now......... 25 years old.

World Doctors comic............ too much work...............

BUT GUESS WHAT! I now own a CRT TV with a built in VHS player.

I've put World Doctors on:

My old phone with a slide out keyboard

A Hello Kitty flip phone

A now broken iPod shuffle (the audio from it, at least)

PAPER (discontinued)

AND NOW, COMING SOON TO VHS!!!!!!!!!!

Guys, I'm putting World Doctors on a VHS tape. That's all.

Do you think Bart and Chris remember me? Do you think they'd be proud?

Me wrapping up Christmas presents.

CONTEXT- Recently I was thinking about how the plot of the original Life Is Strange would make for a PERFECT Columbo episode. Think about it, it's two rich people committing a murder, clumsily trying to cover it up and then arrogantly thinking they'll get away with it only to ultimately end up caught in their own carelessness. In this turn of events, I imagined Columbo would've already cracked the case by the time the game's story begins- so Nathan is arrested before he can even confront Chloe in the bathroom, she never gets shot, Max never gets her powers, and the storm never happens because Jefferson and the Prescotts were already brought to justice for Rachel's murder. (Columbo never dealt with the supernatural after all, and it's still an interesting murder story even without powers being part of the equation). It's still a somewhat bittersweet ending as Rachel is still dead- you can't have a Columbo story without a murder to kickstart the plot- but nobody else has to die, Max is never traumatized by her powers, and her and Chloe still reconnect their relationship without having to destroy an entire town.

My best friend wrote the dialogue for this one, and funnily enough it's based on what happened when I played the game for the first time- I immediately cottoned on to what Jefferson was saying about capturing someone in a dark corner, thinking that was weirdly specific dialogue to open out the game with unless it was foreshadowing for later. And then of course you go out into the corridor, there are all the "MISSING" posters for Rachel and you can hear students gossiping about how she was in a relationship with a teacher. By the time you see her note in the junkyard in Chapter 2 I was 100% certain it was Jefferson... apparently for a lot of people it was a real twist (my best friend thought there was absolutely nothing hinting to it beforehand)

Oh and one more thing, funnily enough there's a Columbo episode called "Double Exposure". But unlike the Life Is Strange game of the same name it's actually good, one of the best in the series. There was also an episode where he solves a murder at a local college, and the killer is a deluded rich student not unlike Nathan Prescott. So I think the lieutenant would fit perfectly into the mystery of Arcadia Bay!