#nameless seed

[midnight-in-town]

5 tips for childcare by Guideau (& a cursed doll statue)

1) Keep them entertained

2) Talk to them

3) Give them a proper bed to use

4) Don’t let them play with knives

5) Don’t let them fall through a window

And as a bonus, most importantly...

...let them get closer to you so that it can release you from your nightmares. :)

Perhaps this is ultimately what Ashaf meant by “I want to teach you what love is”?

TL;DR i’ve had that “nameless seed” forbidden instrument child for only one volume, but if something were to happen to him, i would kill everyone in this series and then myself

......Guideau will say, in the next volume or so, I’m sure. :D

[spoiledleaff]

nights where phantom and dewdrop spend cuddling in the witching hour, because phantom’s brain gets consumed by guilt and self-doubt that he’ll never fit into the daunting massive pairs of shoes left before him, and dewdrop’s still grappling with the change and as much as he wants to throw the new ghoul out and cuss his very existence for ruining his life, dew’s had to pick up his own shattered pieces enough times to know that no hood would ever come from it.

so, they cuddle. phantom whines periodically, and dew wonders if he knows the sounds he’s making while his newly summoned mind just races. dew scratches his claws in the space between those curved horns and phantom stills. he doesn’t think the others asleep yet. but that’s okay.

they’re together. and phantom is perfectly chilled in comparison to dewdrop’s red hot heat. with a soft sigh, dew leans down to kiss at the crown of phantom’s head.

he stirs. lifts his head up and is careful not to gouge the smaller ghoul with his impressive horns. they stare at each other for a bit, wide and bug-eyed. and oh so vulnerable.

phantom leans up and dewdrop leans in, long eyelashes fluttering over suspiciously wet cheeks.

they kiss.

…and dewdrop idly thinks that maybe they’ll be okay. if not tonight? then maybe tomorrow.

they have time.

[ritinja-draws]

“The tiny seed of hope” ch 1. Part 1

Story about the little wind wisp and his friend bard, who fought together for freedom and sky.

[serpentface]

FAMILY TITLES AMONG THE HILL TRIBES

(ft. various linguistic notes and tangents)

In-universe Brakul’s self-given title of ‘Red-Dog’ is Brakul 'ne-Dainh' in his native language (Bict-Urbinnas dialect of the Highland language group) and Brakul 'Chin-Reyla' in Wardi. Ne-Dainh/Chin-Reyla is not something he treats as or considers an actual surname or identity, just a self-styled nickname. He already has a title.

Family names/surnames are not a native practice among the Hill Tribes (though some clans or individual families have adopted this practice), and all traditionally use titles that designate immediate ancestry, clan and tribe. These full titles are officially given when one comes of age and are spoken aloud in ceremony (with the entire direct male and female lines listed by name, with most traditions expecting 12 generations of each being named).

The function is to cement one’s sense of place in the world, and their place in a direct ancestral line, which puts the person under the full watch and guidance of their ancestors. It's also a critical method of recording lineage- the long held practice of each person memorizing at least 24 total direct ancestors allows for very long, largely accurate records of family history to be kept, with some people able to trace their ancestry all the way back to initial settlement of the Highlands (or even beyond).

Brakul’s full title is:

“Brakul virsum Kuligan et Borunil an Briyonis ne-Taig an Bict-Urbinnas”

Which dead literally translates to “Brakul son of Kuligan and Borunil of the Foothills (of) Red-Cattle, of the North (Urbin/Erubin) River Valley” but has a much richer meaning in the original language.

"BRAKUL VIRSUM KULIGAN ET BORUNIL"

The actual meaning here is closer to ‘Brakul, son of Kuligan and his father’s fathers, and Borunil and her mother’s mothers’.

“Virsum” means ‘child (son/daughter) of’ (the gender is contextual), but implies the person’s status as a descendant of a full male and female line of ancestors. A different word is used if you’re just saying ‘I’m so and so’s son”. The title describes him as a son of his father Kuligan and of Kuligan’s male line, and of his mother Borunil and Borunil's female line.

All ancestors (within this particular system of kinship, divided into one direct male line from the father and one direct female line from the mother, and not including husbands from the female line or wives from the male line) are invoked and credited with the word ‘virsum’. Speaking it as part of the personal title is part of the routine and necessary honoring of one’s ancestors, who watch over their descendants from the afterlife and can temporarily return to the land to guide and protect (and sometimes punish, or teach sharp lessons to) the living.

"AN BRIYONIS NE-TAIG"

The actual meaning here would be understood as ‘clan/people of the foothills where cattle are lit red by the setting sun'.

‘Briyonis’ is the word for ‘foothill’, citing his clan’s specific location being the foothills that form the slopes of the north Urbin river valley. He is of a lesser clan within the powerful North Urbin River tribe. His clan benefits from close affiliation to their more powerful ruling clans located directly in the river valley, which grants them access to a greater variety of cultivated foods, but their actual position in the foothills still renders them predominantly reliant on cattle for subsistence. Clan names referencing cattle or horses are very common, given their frequent centrality to life.

The ‘ne-Taig’ literally means ‘red cattle’, but the ‘ne’ color word for red specifically invokes shades of red seen in and cast by a rising/setting sun. This red cast is culturally regarded as a unique beauty and evocative (and part of the name) of the solar god Hraighne. The foothills his clan is physically located on are a vantage point from which the western horizon is not fully obscured by mountains, and they experience very striking sunsets and are directly touched by the light. This is fairly unique to this location, and is invoked in the clan name and identity. ‘Ne-Taig’ here suggests a visual of grazing cattle illuminated red by the sun as it crosses the horizon.

‘Ne-Dainh’ carries the same implication, a dog illuminated red by setting sunlight. The Wardi language does not have a comparable word for a sunlit red and ‘Chin-Reyla’ really does just mean ‘(orangeish) red dog’ (‘reyla’ is specific to orangey-red colors, which is the closest match he could get. There’s no way to impart the meaning of ‘sunlit-red dog’ in Wardi that is non-clunky enough to be appropriate for a name).

"AN BICT-URBINNAS"

��an Bict-Urbinnas’ is fairly simple, Bict means ‘north’, and 'Urbin' is the name of the specific river that stems from a northern and eastern tributary. This river has a very ancient name (or a derivative of one) that predates settlement by the Hill Tribes, and its exact meaning is lost.

The root -(n)nas designates a river valley, but has strong implications of being an esteemed and bountiful place, rather than solely a literal geographical descriptor (as the river valleys are centers of power and trade in the highlands). It may be a loanword from the Wardi language family, as its usage is VERY similar in form and function to the Wardi -(n)nos, which also suggests a place of esteem and bounty (more specifically having connotations of a kingdom).

’An’ literally means ‘of’, but in the specific sense of describing the place and identity of a collection of people. ‘an Bict Urbinnas’ would be understood in speech as ‘of the north Urbin River Valley (people)’. The clans historically settled in and around the valley of the North Urbin River form the totality of the Bict-Urbinnas tribe.

The ‘Urbin’ word predates the contemporary Wardi name ‘Erubin’ for the river, the latter of which invokes the semi-mythological founding figure Erub, who himself was of a Wardi tribe located downriver to the south of the Highlands. The real historically extant ‘Erub’ was most likely named Urub after the river, with his cited name shifting over the centuries in folklore, and the Wardi name for the river shifting with it.

‘Erubin’ as a corruption of ‘Urbin’ functions very well in Wardi language due to ‘-bi/bin’ denoting something as a ‘gift’, usually in a more metaphorical sense. ‘Erubin’ is understood as meaning ‘(The river that is) Erub’s gift’, and the Erubin/Urbin river is a key tributary to the much larger Black river, one of the key rivers that feeds the region's wetter and more fertile west. This 'gift' meaning also occurs in the name of the southeastern Imperial Wardi city-state Erubinnos, which is understood as meaning ’((The kingdom that is) Erub’s gift’. He is considered to have conquered and taken the land (from the core city's actual founders, the Wogan people) and established a kingdom there in the early days of warring Wardi tribal monarchies.

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost's twitter feed used to be of him at conventions. his car. him in a pool. the gym. arm around johnny in his backyard. sprawled on his couch next to kyle. basic stuff. the occasional obligatory promo of the video he shoots.

then it's one faceless pic of you for your OF. pretty thing, puffy pussy visible through your sodden knickers. thighs spread wide, feet on each side of the slim mirror. retweets it with a water emoji.

now, it's him with a cup of steaming black coffee in his hands, a sleek macbook before him on the marble-top kitchen island (hand covering the lower half of his face because it's too damn early for the mask. kinda looks like he's yawning. cute.)

johnny throwing up two fingers, thick wrist adorned with a bracelet, sunlight glinting off of its jewels. vacation, it looks like. cobblestone street beneath his loafers. panna cotta gelato in his other hand.

it's him with his hands in his pockets, neck craned back to look at the masterpiece that hangs on the wall— brushstrokes of genius on canvas. he's got a healthy glow to him, sun-kissed gold. warm, unlike the clinical white of the museum walls.

then it's you again. this time you've got two small (in comparison to his very long ones) fingers stuffed into your greedy hole, glistening with slick. heart eyes emoji.

and again. a vibrant pink vibrator in your cunt, one arm reaching for the camera, remote control in hand. put it as intense as you like. i can handle it. two heart eyes and water emoji.

and again, 3 consecutive pictures. your face is covered by a big red heart, but everything else is visible. like the creamy white fluffy rabbit ears on your head, a collar around your neck, tiny carrot charm delicately dangling from it, white cottonball tail on your arse. small, black triangles on your head: cat ears. silky collar with a tinkling silver bell. long, furry plume-like tail, obsidian black with a precious white bow at the base. last is a puppy mask. buttery faux-leather, sleek and smooth. padded fist mitts, rosy, pink paws. whip-like tail. a thick collar around your neck, chain links glimmering with the camera's flash. handle on the floor, beckoning to be picked up, to lead you about. i'd be a good pet, don't you think?

(simon spam retweeted this 6 times. kyle sent him a message about it, telling him his twitter is freaking out. it was most assuredly not a mistake.) lowered his joggers enough to take himself out and fisted his cock until he covered that pretty arse of yours with his seed. was not fun cleaning up his phone after but so worth.

(he'll never admit that heat blooms in his cheeks when fans ask if you're his lover. how lucky you are. must be seeing nameless gods beneath him, touching the sky with your fingertips when he uses his mouth. seeing the universe behind your eyelids when he makes you come around his cock.)

he wishes, lol.

[pedge-page]

Live a Little, Give a Little ... More [Part 2]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Live a Little Give a Little part 1

Summary: you've got one last stunt in you before you retire to have your baby--will your mystery Baby Daddy make a final appearance?

Warnings: Breeding kink, pregnancy, exhibition, groping, public sex, public teasing, dub con, manhandling, rape-esc situation that may be triggering, unprotected sex, creampie.

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You keep waving to your camera even after it clicks off and stops recording. Leaning back in your streaming chair, you close your eyes. 

Well, you did exactly what you set out to do: gained a shit ton of views and earned a mega bonus from your subscribers, rating shooting up thanks to that little stunt you pulled a few months ago.

You peer down, drumming your fingers along the hefty bump that had grown in your belly since then. “Hope you’re a bit more responsible than me, kiddo,” you mumble, smiling softly as you stroke over with gentle fingers.

Getting pregnant was not exactly how you imagined achieving that feat.

In all honesty, the plan was never to fuck a stranger on a crowded train. You were on the pill, but STD and STIs were a thing, so the furthest you had genuinely planned with a few hand jobs and being groped by perverts. 

But the second you felt that man on you, felt his cock pulse in your legs, something else over took you. Your whole bodies shivers with excitement every time recalling that day. Trying to etch every single detail into your memory. His callused hands, the firm, broad chest and shoulders that easily could overpower you, his warm thick fingers dancing along your skin, the trace of his breath along the shell of your ear, each beautiful little grunt and groan echoing in your ear like a broken record. 

His massive fucking hung horse cock.

You’ve been fucked by big-dicked guys before. But to know how to use it so fucking well that you don’t need to be battered to a pulp just to feel it, is something that no man can compare to your handsome baby Daddy.

Slickness pools in your panties. At some point, your belly is going to be big enough that you won’t be able to touch yourself. But for now, as your hand dips into your underwear and gathers your arousal, you think about him. 

If he was here now, would he make you cum on his fingers before you could have his cock buried to the hilt in you? Tell you that you’re a naughty girl, so fertile and sweet for the taking? A cum hungry dumb slut who doesn’t know how to function without his seed filling her up at every conceivable moment. Make you watch yourself in the mirror cum like a whore from his touch as he promises to breed and brand you over and over again for the world to see. You bite your lips, feeling him hot on your skin, balls twitching with each pulse of his seed dumping safely into your waiting womb to take him.

The thoughts of the faceless, nameless man who impregnated you on a crowded train during rush hour brings you to orgasm much quicker than any toy or method you’ve tested. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, a slight grin tugging on your lips as you rub your pussy through her little quakes, desperate to feel complete again.

You come down from your high, sticky fingers tracing along your belly as you drift into your current situation, ironically brought on by your insatiable horny lust.

No, you didn’t intend to have sex with a stranger that day. And when you weighed the odds in the nano-second before he impaled you… I mean, even if you got an infection, so what, just this once? What OnlyFans streamer didn’t have a disease or two? (No, please don’t take that advice)

You got tested immediately afterwards, and thankfully everything else came back negative from your fun encounter.

It only took a few more weeks after that of peculiar symptoms to get tested for something else that, to you genuine surprise, was positive. 

The man must have super sperm to have blown past your supposedly unstoppable birth control, which hadn’t even failed you when you did that 5 creampie amateur gang bang porno last summer.  Maybe you were only an hour late in taking your dosage on time that one day, too drunk and more concerned about fingering him cum back into you, but still…

You went into shock for a solid week, not sure what to do. Sometimes even now you feel a little jolt in your tummy, and see your body changing, and it just keeps dawning on you that you’re actually about to have a whole ass child.

And you don’t know the father.

It’s both thrilling and horrifying shook up in a bottle of hormones and currently sitting on the edge of a cliff. You should scold yourself for how stupid you were, if only you actually regretted it.  Even if you’re about to be a single mother who cant explain a thing to your soon to be child about their daddy, you knew you were gonna love you baby. No doubts.

Besides, when you were more financially stable, you DID plan to have kids at some point. So what if it’s a little sooner than expected? Life is full of unexpected surprises! 

You decided after the baby is born, no more streaming. You were gonna get a more stable, (more cloth required) job and raise your precious kiddo on your own.

But a few teasing streams until then, just to milk those breeding, misogynistic, baby bump hungry men out there willing to throw money at you if you rubbed milk over your belly, would be worth those extra bucks before calling it quits altogether.

Still, it would be nice feel him just one more time…

-

Joel’s been watching your stream obsessively since that day you brazenly showed your pregnant belly to the world. He’s got notifications going off on his phone every time you upload something. 

Even with his cock in his hand, most of the time you just talk to your followers, answer their questions about your pregnancy so far, and about that day.

He sees the way your eyes glint, the corner of your lips curving into an unashamed smile as you retell details about him.

Sure, all the lonely fucks in the chat spam your inbox “that’s so hot”, “god I wish that were me,” “can I use your holes and breed you next? My bus departs in 30 mins ;)”

Honestly, who’s to say you aren’t pulling a total bluff? You’re a porn streamer; it’s your job to feed into men like his fantasies. Maybe you had fucked a dozen guys on the train that day, got pregnant from one of them, and only uploaded Joel’s session because it was the hottest? Maybe you were already pregnant, and you’re just spinning a scandalous story for your followers to hold on to? And who’s to say you don’t already have a cuck boyfriend or husband, who could have been filming or watching you two on the train that day from a different angle?

The thought of you belonging to another man, of the baby you “claim” to his being another’s makes his hand grip his cock tightly, teeth grinding down on one another while staring at your beautiful eyes and smile through the computer screen.

He drops a pool of spit on to his tip before sheathing it over with his hand, lubing his cock. You would usually end the stream with some tease:

“God, my breasts are just getting so sore,” you groan dramatically. You unbutton your blouse and reveal your naked cleavage. “Don’t even have any more bras because they’re getting so damn heavy!” You cup them and moan into the camera, relieving the ache while pinching your nipples. 

Joel licks his lips. He had gotten to know you (or the version of you on your stream) a lot more intimately thanks to discovering your blog. He spent hours studying every detail that he missed. Its one thing to have dumped his load into your exquisite pussy, but to be able to see your face, hear your unashamed moans, ogle your gorgeous breasts and body that he had been denied that day makes him yearn to have you one more time.

Your belly had grown just as quickly, drooping over your pelvis just a bit more than before. You’re not at full mast yet. He watches how you maneuver, maybe a little slower or more bulky than before. It fills him with pride, seeing how much you’re having to struggle with his child growing in you. At the very least, you can still reach to get a bulbous pink dildo in your cunt and flash the camera as you masturbate, crying out as you beg Daddy to breed you again.

Joel cups his balls with one hand while the other furiously works over his shaft. His stomach tenses, building towards his release with eyes transfixed on the way that little cunt still has enough room to fit that toy. He would know, you took him with very little prep. 

“That’s it baby, come on, Come for Daddy,” he groans.  Doesn’t care that he’s jerking off in a dark room by himself to a brightly lit screen of his baby momma that doesn’t even know him. Yet. 

You moan directly into the camera, mouth agape as you thrust the dildo in and out, hitting that sweet spot that has your eyes rolling. You spread your legs over the chair, and the skin strewn across your belly tightens as a gush of liquid squirts out of your pussy.

“Fuck Daddy, making my pussy squirt so fuckin good! M so full my cunt can’t hold all my naughty juices, too full with your cock and your cum and your baby!!”

Haggard groans rumble in his throat as his cock erupts into jets of white ribbons, shooting along the computer screen and covering your face as you smile and lick the dildo clean. He milks his sack of the last little spurts of cum before sighing and leaning back against the chair, dreaming about painting your womb white again with his next load. 

When you come down from your high, and the last of the generous tips come flowing in, you usually rub along your swollen tummy. Sometimes it’s subconscious, like you’re comforting your child, other times it’s for the show, twirling around and pushing it out to show everyone how big you’ve gotten. Your voice centers him back to reality.

“And before I forget, I have one final announcement: After our little baby is born, I will be retiring.” You smile softly, but there’s a sense of gratitude mixed with sadness. “I know! It’s been such a great journey, and I’ve never felt soooo good about something as amazing as this, and to share it all with you is more than I could have ever hoped. So as a final send off, I’m doing one last exhibition piece.”

Joel leans, ignoring the stain of his cum drying along his shirt and smudged into his laptop.

 “If you’re out there, Daddio, I want to meet you. Catch me in the same area, around the same time—and no I’m not going to tell you all exactly where on here!  If you’re there, you’ll know—and if not, I will be streaming the whole thing live this time so don’t miss out! Even if I can’t find my blessing baby daddy, I will certainly still be putting on a show for however many lucky bastards get to grope a pregnant, single slut like me!”

-

You stand along the train platform, anxiously glancing over your shoulder at the random passersby just trying to catch a commute. Some men have definitely eyed you in less than innocent ways already. It’s a cest pool of perverts today. 

You contemplate the biggest hiccup in your plan: You know the only chance you have to recognize him is from feeling his huge dick splitting you open again. Cinderella slipper style, if you will. You didn’t have a name, an address, any identifiable features—you wouldn’t even be able to recognize his face if it were right in front of you given that you never really saw more than a blurred partial reflection of it in the first place. That monster cock is the only thing that you’re betting your life on right now to find him.

But for the safety of your baby—you had 0 plans to fuck anybody today. And I mean it this time.

The wind from the train tunnels keeps riling up your frilly dress, the fabric now fitting a little more snug than it did before thanks to your baby on the way. There’s a sense of excitement mixed with disappointment steaming in your flip flops. No, you had no hope of actually finding him again. 

 But who’s to say you can’t still have a little fun, touch some dicks, get your tits squeezed and call it a successful career?

Rush hour got a bit crazy, and boy were the men just as in a hurry. You bit your lip and smiled at a man who brushed by you, his hand happily squeezing your little ass cheek through your dress. He seemed young, thin, definitely not your man, but his long fingers did feel nice, caressing your hips as he grinned to you as well. Swaying your chest in front of him, he peers over your cleavage. The two of you waited along the platform, the crowd shifting awkwardly around you waiting for the train. You twiddled your hair, angling your phone up so it could capture his hand gently caressing your lower belly. 

His eyes widen in surprise: your bump wasn’t entirely obvious under the skirt of the dress, still small enough to be concealed under baggy clothing but very obvious the moment you feel it or pull the fabric tight. You giggle as he eagerly stroked over your belly, and you can barely see the twinkle of a fantasy forming behind those eyes.

The train followed forward a little too soon, and the man got on without another glance at you. Probably his wedding ring might have had something to do with it, but no matter. You remained where you were.

When the cart rushed past again, the wind blowing your dress, you caught the eye of a group of two behind you. You winked at them, lifting your skirt scandalously to show off your bare ass and wiggle at them, before enticing them to follow you behind the stairwell. 

You propped your phone up quickly, conveniently cutting off from the neck up to disguise their faces before they too rounded the corner. One was a bit shorter, dark haired, maybe around 40s with a full beard. His hands were all wrong, not your guy, but you didn’t deter him as he stroked along your cheek and down your cleavage, pulling the fabric of the dress tight to see your swollen tits. 

The other man, tall and muscular under that tight shirt, blond and younger, pressed firmly along your back, the outline of his cock making you rub your ass along his crotch. You quickly reached behind you and stroked his stiff bulge while they pinched your nipple through your dress, held the weight of your pregnant belly and brushed their knuckles along your inner thigh. 

Their faces didn’t matter. Maybe they were your fans, maybe they were just some lucky pervs at the right place at the right time. Either of them could be your mystery man, while neither could be too. You try to brush off your disappointment with a flirty laugh, stroking both of them through their trousers as they breathed in your perfume and continued to touch your body. No, their cocks were all wrong. It didn’t feel this rigid or this plump, his tip was more bulbous than this, and the curvature is in the opposite direction.

You glanced at your camera, making sure you’re getting good angles of your pronounced body sandwiched between these two creeps. They didn’t say much, thankfully, and you didn’t care to talk. Your feed was blowing up, with them none the wiser at behind recorded.  It’s not until you peep again at the screen that you see a third man entering the frame behind you. 

The other guys shift uncomfortably at his intrusion, but you look up at lucky perv number three. You don’t bat an eye when he boldly put his hand between your thighs and slid up along your skin, thick digits grazing your wet folds. You hum contently. Oh, he’s here for the cake. You try not to go hazy, eying the cheeky bastard while being stimulated all over.

 His height was between the other two but that didn’t make him any less imposing. Broad around the shoulders with a bit of a soft tummy, but his denim shirt hugged those biceps so well. And he’s older too, much older due to the wrinkles under his brown eyes and the grays starting to take over in his curled hair and patchy beard—

Your brows furrow for a second, not enough time to process your thoughts before he’s shoving the other two men aside despite their protests and walking you back against the tiled wall, your bum resting on the metal bar there. His torso parts your legs perfectly, and you gasp, hands gripping his shoulders to keep your balance. He only grins, something very knowing behind that look, a secret you feel left out from, and you’re about to call it all off until he rolls that massive THANG between his legs against your uncovered core.

You moan out in surprise, your head falls forward on his chest. He growls something out to the other guys, who end up scurrying away with their palms pressed on their crotches like scared dogs. 

“L-Look, mister,” you say, and fuck you should be trying to fight this harder. Especially with the jangle of his belt coming undone between you. You don’t want some stranger fucking you—again—that defeats the whole purpose of the tease! You could still shout for help, there’s plenty of other people just around the corner if he tries anything funny. And your baby, your health, your safety— “I don’t —I’m not in the mood for anything—penetrative. But I could satisfy you in other ways,” you huff, dragging your lower lip between your teeth.

He smirks again. His breath is warm, so close to your face you could almost kiss him. He feels so strong yet so soft, holding you securely against him, his hand cradling your belly while his tented cock pressed along your clit. Your hearts racing, beating wildly that you don’t doubt he can’t feel it against his own. Maybe he’s considering it, something willing yet still satisfying. You feel drunk off him despite only sampling the scent of him, not the taste quite yet.

He holds your gaze with his curved nose honing yours. Its intimate.

Familiar.

You should protest at least a little when he flips you around and bends you over. He’s got one hand protectively over your belly, making sure you don’t fall into the wall. You glance up, and the sight of your body positioned perfectly centered at your camera. Fuck—he knew where the camera was? Was he a fan watching your stream before he came over? Your shocked expression fills the screen as his torso and hips press against your ass, yellow dress flipped over your hips for his private view.

Your mind is reeling, unaware of the thick slap of his length against your folds—that jolts your attention. You know that cock…

He thrusts in all at once.  No voice escapes your parted lips to convey the cross eyed, fantastic, unbelievable, one in a million stretch that you had been missing for months, now filling you up to the brim and suffocating every available micro meter inside of you, and making you whole again. The same stretch, the one that’s making you cum on his cock right now, flooding your senes as arousal electrifies every nerve in your body.

The man behind you only chuckles, still getting the perfect view of your gaping mouth and furled brows reflected on the phone scream. he hisses lowly between his teeth as you continue to clench around his cock with your sweet wet little cunt. It’s like scanning a membership, and your body finally recognizes the owner of the shop. You pant harshly into the bar, walls convulsing over his thick length buried deep to your occupied womb.

The man that had placated your mind, your pussy and womb for the last 6 months, the man who left the best gift you’d ever received, the man right here in the flesh, that you had almost considered a dream were it not for the growing swell of his child in your womb occupying your delirium…

He leans over you, just enough so that only his lips are visible at the top of the screen, his voice ghosting along your ear: “Hi babygirl. Missed you. Looks like you have a little surprise for Daddy.” You feel his bear palms caress your swollen tummy.

Your lips curl into a delirious smile, lashes fluttering in blissful patterns of love as your entire being welcomes this man into the home he’s already carved out of you.

Even your baby nestled small in your womb wiggles excitedly at the recognition of her Daddy.

Neither of you look away from another as he begins thrusting into you, rocking your body back and forth along his member like the toy you’re so good at being.

He was amazing—no, better than before if it’s possible. Impossibly hard, long, thick and throbbing, all shoved up your pussy with desperate ruts, impaling your soaking pussy over and over again. You had to remind yourself, still lost like a love sick puppy in his eyes, that you were still in public, being fucked raw, pregnant, behind the stairwell of a crowded train station during rush hour. Nosy chatter echoed through the tunnel as the two of you humped against one another, partially clothed minus your genitals connected in a haze of passionate fucking. The phone in front of you is only forgotten, and you can only imagine the comments and tips blowing up at the fact that you’d actually found him.

Despite the openness, the vulnerability of your position, it feels far more intimate, just the two of you fucking to your hearts content. You’ll wonder later about the wondering eyes from trains beginning to enter the station and seeing the two of you in the blurred windows , but right now, you’d be ready to take his second bastard child right this second. 

Your handsome hero reaches past you and turns the recording off, flipping the phone down. If he’s going to have you again, really have you, it would be his own little private show. No camera. No show. He abruptly pulls out before spinning you around and nestling himself between your thighs again, his cock aligning to your entrance before sliding right back in. Right where he belongs.

“Oooooh shiiiit. Shit Momma, you’re so good at taking it,” he rasps into your neck. He presses a wet kiss along your throat, each thrust pushing you back but he holds you close and sucks you right into his grasp again. Your open lips hover over one another as he sets his pace again, his tip now kissing your cervix with each kiss of your pregnant belly to his naval.

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” He growls with an edge of desperation. “Tell me it’s mine.” Beads of sweat begin to form along the creases of his forehead, but he didn’t once consider slowing his pace. With the pay your ass jiggles at each slap of skin.

“It’s yours,” you cry. There’s no doubt. your heart screams with joy just as the knot in your stomach snaps. he grips your mouth with his strong hand as your head rolls in ecstasy, wailing out into his flesh with unfiltered moans.

Harsh breaths are forced out of his nose, his lips switching between a snarl and a grin as he nears his end. 

“Inside,” you hum into his ear.

He wasn’t planning on putting it anywhere else. With one final heave, he lifts you off the rail briefly, your weight balncing under his arms and your tiptoes on the ground as he bursts inside of you, painting your walls with his hot cream.

You both breathe in the polluted air. Distant echoes of the rafters rattling in the darkened caves ahead while footsteps rustle down the metal stairs behind the two of you. The breeze of the caverned tunnels cools the sweat along both your bodies. He hasn’t let go, still glued to you, holding you close as if you’d slip away.

You sit upright in his lap, trying to catch your breath. You survey one another, pupils blown wide yet calming. The two of you just giggle as your pants slowly sync together. His rough yet gentle fingertips stroke your cheek before brushing away the strands of messy hair that had covered your beautiful face, and for the first time, he can really get a full look at you in person.

“I’m Joel,” he says sweetly. He brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a gentle and long kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.

You shake your head and laugh, offering your name to him as well.

Although, at this point, with his cock still impaled deep inside, his baby growing in your womb— its safe to say the two of you are well past such a redundant formality.

-----

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[vespertin-y]

i usually see venti no longer looking identical to the nameless bard presented as a tragedy, like he doesn't even remember their face anymore. but i would like to propose it as a bittersweet joy.

he used to look just like them (but his cheeks are rounder and rosier now from good food and drink) he used to look just like them (but his skin is darker now from days spent under the sun) he used to look just like them (but when he is ready - when he is ready, his face will start to crease from the repetition of his smiles)

the bard's legacy not as an unchanging statue, but a seed, to be carried forwards until it blooms into something unrecognizable but lovely all the same.

[wolfy1298]

Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Yes, Ma'am. - Part Two

pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

warnings: flirting & poor description of food, i think

overview: You find out why Sanji is known to be the best chef in the East Blue. The Straw Hat reveals his intentions.

a/n: this is turning into a full blown series😭 thank you for the support on the first part, i was so shocked and i am so immensely grateful for everyone who read and enjoyed it. i love you all!

part one — final part

Sanji had barely taken a step into the kitchen when Patty began reprimanding him on how Zeff had kicked him out of the kitchen for the day, but it didn't stop him from grabbing a pan and starting his work.

You waited patiently after watching Sanji disappear into the kitchen. As you waited for your food, your eyes darted to the party you had been dismissing since you first noticed them. You were busy flirting, after all.

The Straw Hat, the Long-nose, the Redhead, and the Pirate Hunter. Their complimentary bread disappeared within seconds of it being placed on their table, courtesy of the straw hat, which led to the long-nose whining about how he didn't get a chance to taste the bread.

Dish after dish arrived at their table as you recalled hearing the straw hat order every dish on the menu, and you couldn't help but wonder how the nameless pirate would pay for it.

In the middle of watching the Straw Hat, whose name, you learned, was Luffy, you noticed Sanji returning to your table.

He set down a plate in front of you as well as a glass of strawberry milkshake.

"Somethin' I've been working on – sauteed True Bluefin over a sweet soy glaze, sided with seared asparagus," he descripted as he set down utensils and motioned at the plate. Then he motioned at the milkshake. At a glance, you could see that it had been done the way you requested it be. It even had a pink and white striped straw to match.

"Strawberry milkshake with a thin coat of strawberry syrup, no seeds, fine whipped cream made by yours truly," he playfully bowed, "and a strawberry to top off a drink as sweet as you."

You smiled as he winked. "Thank you, Sanji."

He refused your utterance of gratitude. "Please, I find it a privilege to have been able to cook for a beauty such as yourself."

He seemed to have no plans to leave, instead waiting to see your reaction, so you began to cut into the fish, your eyes never leaving his as you brought the piece to your lips using the fork.

A burst of flavor overwhelmed your taste buds the moment you took the piece into your mouth. Your usually insouciant temperament slipped for just a moment as your eyes widened.

"It’s good," you managed to say as if it weren’t the best thing you had ever tasted in your entire life.

"Yeah?" He smirked. He knew you were masking your amusement, it was evident on your face that you were. He drank in your expression as you attempted to keep your cool.

You nodded. "It's nothing like anything I've had before," you admitted.

"Thank you, love."

You moved onto the drink. As you went to grab it, Sanji spoke.

"I realized I never got your name," he declared. You paused, simply holding the drink in your hand now.

"Will you be needing it?" You questioned while playing with the fountain glass. His flirty persona faltered with confusion as your tone seemed to have an implication.

"I saw you flirting with the redhead earlier, did you make sure her water came from heaven itself?" You jested, hearing even her crewmates teasing her about the interaction.

He smirked as he was ready to tease, "Are you jealous?"

You only shrugged. "I'm just stating what I observed, darling." Lifting the straw to your lips, your eyes never left his as you took a sip.

You were more of a whiskey on the rocks kind of person, but you had to admit – the strawberry milkshake was far better than good. You couldn’t understand how something so simple could taste so heavenly. There were, in fact, no seeds, and the taste was just the right amount of sweetness that you were looking for, even if you hadn’t mentioned a specific level of sweetness for it.

You think you'd never be able to find words to describe it, just as you had run short of words for the sauteed True Bluefin. "It’s good," oh, please. The two of you knew that you felt you never knew what real food tasted like until you had tried Sanji's cooking – tested out his skills in the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the drink. It was so delectable that it was almost painful.

"I like you, Sanji," You confessed before beginning to cut into the fish in your plate again. "I enjoyed our exchange. I certainly enjoy the dish and drink you've made for me." Sanji opened his mouth to reply when someone shouted from the kitchen area.

"Oi, Sanji! You’re here to cater, not to flirt!" Sanji evidently clenched his jaw.

"Just get back to cooking, Patty!" He turned to you again, his jaw now unclenched and his eyes thinning as he smiled.

You rarely told anyone your name. In your line of business, it didn't really matter who you were or how much they knew about you. It was all in the matter of how cheap or expensive your product was, and how hard you were willing to fight for its worth (and your life).

You told him your name. Just your first name – nothing more, nothing less. It led to less hurt that way, if you knew the least you could about each other.

He repeated your name as if to test how it rolled off his tongue, his tone velvety as he spoke.

"Likewise." He moved slightly, indicating that he was now leaving you to eat your lunch.

"But I do mean every word I say. It's nothing I've said to anyone before is all I'll say, I suppose it's up to you to believe that or not. I do hope you consider coming back here despite how shitty it is." You couldn’t help but chuckle as he deprecated the restaurant he worked at. "I'll be willing to cook you up another meal, if you’re up for it."

You pretended to think about it, but you were already dead set on your answer – "Sure, why not?"

Sanji's smile grew as he began to depart from your table, his eyes never leaving yours until he had to take another table's orders.

"That's the broker pirate hunter?" The straw hat declared with his eyes on you. You whipped your head to face them with a puzzled look.

The redhead's eyes widened. "Hey, not so loud!" She turned to you to find that you were already looking in their direction.

"Not a broker, not a pirate hunter!" You corrected irritably.

"See? I told you." The long-nose attempted to mutter as he lightly smacked the straw hat's shoulder.

"Hey, are you the nameless, bounty-less pirates that defeated Axe-Hand Morgan?"

"Woah, woah. You did – you did what?" The long-nose's eyes had widened. He seemed to be unaware of the gang of pirates he had joined.

"Nameless?" The straw hat echoed. He then stood to approach your table. He held out his sauce covered hand which you only looked at. He retracted his hand when you made no move to grab it.

"My name is Monkey D. Luffy. I'm going to be King of the Pirates!" Your eyes widened at his proclamation, your eyes returning to look into his.

Unlike what you expected from countless others who had declared themselves to soon be King of the Pirates, this Luffy character seemed to have something else other than pure determination glimmering in his eyes. It almost had you believing that he was going to be King of the Pirates.

"So just you wait," he then said your name as if you were close friends, "I'll get my first bounty soon."

He couldn't have been that much younger than you. And yet, something about him made you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"That's my crew, by the way." He pointed at his booth. "That's Zoro, Nami, and Usopp."

"Not in your crew," Nami denied.

"Don't introduce us to the pirate hunter, Luffy!" Usopp scolded him.

"What's up?" Zoro calmly greeted.

"I'm not a pirate hunter. That's a pirate hunter," you corrected Usopp once again, pointing to Zoro.

"Not anymore," Zoro corrected you, too.

"Well, I can see that, given how you're in a pirate crew."

He only scoffed. "Uh-huh, nice to see you again, too."

Luffy seemed to be unaware of the tension between the two of you. He grinned as he came to a realization, "Oh, you know each other?"

"Yep." You and Zoro answered in unison, which caused you to glare at each other before looking away.

"Well?" Luffy questioned expectantly, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You looked at the hand on your shoulder and wondered if the boy had any respect for boundaries. You simply shook your head and decided to return to your meal.

"Oh, come on. Zoro!" He whined as he returned to their table.

* * * * * *

taglist: @inf4ntdeath @x-uno @miloonmetis @angeli-fucking-cat @zzbloody-animezz

thank you for your support! <3

(there will be one more part after this one)

[leafyduckwebs]

in a genshin lore mood rn so I drew some of my favorite theories/predictions

explanations:

Teyvat is Upside-Down: From what I know, it's basically the idea that the stars are fake because the Abyss is above Teyvat, not the real sky. I've also seen someone say that Celestia is Hell because it's down below if this theory is true, but I'm not sure how many people think that.

Ajax is Partly Unaffected by Irminsul: Due to spending time in the Abyss (outside Teyvat) and being completely changed by it, Childe is probably at least a bit resistant to having his mind altered by the Ley Lines, which affect everyone else in the world entirely. Of course, we see that it did affect him after the 3.3 quest, but Irminsul is likely gonna pop up as a plot point again, so who knows. I'm not sure how widespread this one is because I've only seen it in Chiscara fics/art and one (1) discord thread, but I like it so ehhh

Traveler Dies: Less of a theory and more of an angsty "what if?" scenario. It's silly, obviously the MC themself isn't gonna die. HOWEVER their sibling might.......or they both live in the end, but Traveler gets another major injury or presumed death scene. I personally think that the twin will die fighting either us or Celestia if hyv decides to make them not playable.

Paimon = Istaroth: That one huge theory about Paimon being the Unknown God but its a different lady now. Istaroth is the god of wind and time, and is possibly one of the Primordial One's shades. She used to be worshiped in Mondstadt and Enkanomiya before being eventually forgotten. People made the connection between her and Paimon because:

1. We control time with the Paimon menu,

2. Traveler fished up Paimon near the nameless island, which is Istaroth's temple,

3. In the 3.4 Lantern Rite epilogue, Venti (who's connected to Istaroth) barged in saying "Seeds of story, brought by the wind…", and Paimon finished his sentence, "…and cultivated by time". Venti's part is the name of achievement we got from going to the sundial island, and there's the wind and time theme again. Paimon herself was surprised that she said that without thinking, so it's safe to assume that it was a subconscious response that's been ingrained in her head for a while.

[blueikeproductions]

Sentinel Prime also has an interesting conceptual history.

Also interesting is how he managed to be the main villain of two movies in the film series.

His origins lie in the Marvel comics, simply being the name of the guy who was in charge before Optimus, when the comics took the lead set by Rodimus in the original movie, and started setting up a proto-Prime lineage.

For the most part, Sentinel remained a comics only character, as the 80’s cartoon never had a Sentinel, instead using its own lineage consisting of various nameless generics.

Though modern material has retroactively declared this fella is the cartoon Sentinel.

Sadly this design and his rad space rhino truck mode has yet to be immortalized in toy form.

Sentinel’s personality didn’t start getting fleshed out until the Dreamwave era, where most material painted him as powerful, kind and a revered figure among the Autobots. Like Rodimus in the cartoon, Optimus felt inadequate stepping into the role Sentinel left behind.

Sentinel’s more pompous arrogance didn’t become common place until Animated’s version.

Originally more of a goofy friendly jock in his boot camp days, but after a falling out with Optimus during an off the books trip for treasure hunting that saw Elita lost and Optimus take responsibility for Sentinel’s stupidity, the big chinned bot became more entitled and bullheaded, unwilling to accept his own mistakes to look bad in front of Ultra Magnus. Developing a phobia of organics from the giant spider aliens, Sentinel isn’t exactly a people person, not winning over the citizens of Detroit like Optimus did during his time in Earth. This Sentinel would get increasingly desperate trying to make himself look better over Optimus who had won over Ultra Magnus, but usually this wound up backfiring for him like when the Headmaster cut his head off and took over his body. Sentinel got a bit lucky when Shockwave attacked Ultra Magnus, allowing Sentinel to become acting Magnus to lead Cybertron. This saw strict curfews and fear mongering propaganda, mostly about organics and Decepticons to Ratchet and Alpha Trion’s annoyance. In Sentinel’s brashness, he almost unwittingly destroyed Cybertron when attempting to shoot down an unstable Omega Supreme controlled by Megatron, leaking Transwarp energy that’d fry the planet if attacked. When Optimus’ crew came back to Cybertron with Megatron, the missing Protoforms, the Allspark and Omega Supreme they were regarded as heroes, but Sentinel wasn’t impressed, doubling down on how HE was Magnus over Optimus. In the semi but not totally official Trial of Megatron script reading years after the finale though, a dying Ultra Magnus officially appointed Optimus as the true Magnus, which only made Sentinel more desperate, getting fooled by Megatron into being put on a trial that ultimately ended in the Decepticon’s favor.

While a blowhard from top to bottom, TFA Sentinel was still trying to do what he felt was right to protect Cybertron, something that would influence his movie counterparts.

Pry the most well known version besides Animated Sentinel, the DotM version was initially a mix of his Dreamwave version and Star Trek Spock (cuz he’s voiced by Leonard Nimoy).

The IDW movie comics fill in some extra gaps, as Sentinel was a direct descendant of the Primes, and supposedly the last. Leading Cybertron into a prosperous age alongside his “sons” Optimus and Megatron.

Sentinel also fixed an issue that was never fully resolved from ROTF, where special technology was developed with Wheeljack in order to tether a sun to Cybertron, re-energizing the Allspark without needing to destroy it, and powering the planet. Turns out solar power was the answer still, the original Primes just… misunderstood it. The seeds of the eventual Great War were planted however when Megatron overheard Sentinel and Optimus talking, and grew jealous, as Sentinel revealed to Optimus he too was a descendant of the Primes, and is set to take over when Sentinel steps down.

Although it seemed Sentinel had died when the Ark seemingly exploded, he survived and his ship crashed on the Moon of Earth, kick starting the movie. While the Autobots were thrilled to see their old leader back, hoping the tech the Ark held could stop the war, their joy turned to horror when Sentinel Prime revealed he intended to bleed Earth dry, having made a pact with Megatron to save Cybertron in this way. The comics fill in the gaps by better tying it with RotF, where Sentinel and Megatron’s interests aligned, and they decided to go to Earth, the site of the final Star Harvester to complete The Fallen’s goals to save Cybertron.

DotM Sentinel was a noble being and a strong patriot of Cybertron. Like TFA Sentinel, he did what he felt was right, but unlike TFA Sentinel, he employed a form of tough love towards the end, realizing Optimus didn’t have the ball bearings to do what was necessary to win the war. Only too late did Sentinel realize Optimus actually DID when the Prime was pushed too far and shot his former teacher and beheaded his opportunistic brother.

Sentinel falls further in IDW, where due to a lot of retcons and current political events at the time, the orange and red IDW Sentinel Prime was the first instance of a false Prime. Originally an opportunistic Titan Master called Infinitus, he served the ancient Primes and vowed to keep their teachings alive: by keeping the weak in their place with the “good” insuring it. He took on the alias Sentinel and slowly rose to Prime rank, ensuring Cybertron kept its suffocating limitations like the Clampdown and Functionism in place. After being beaten by Megatron, and left for dead, Infinitus merely abandoned his old Transtector in secret (leading the Autobots to be confused how Sentinel was beheaded), and sought to build a new one to continue his plans. Disgusted at post war Cybertron, where the Transformers were slowly unifying with each other and the “disgusting” Colonists and aliens, Sentinel decided to make Cybertron great again by tearing it all down using the power of the Metrotitans. This didn’t go as intended and saw Sentinel die for good, but it did indirectly see the release of Liege Maximo Prime, who had been sealed away in his own MetroTitan that was needed to stop the lobotomized Citybots that Sentinel managed to send to Cybertron.

There was a brief reprieve in IDW’s poorly received reboot, where its Sentinel returned to the just but firm DOTM Sentinel prewar, with the impatience and boldness of TFA Sentinel. This Sentinel wasn’t a racist nitwit, as he led a cultural potluck on Cybertron consisting of other colonists both Transformer and organic aliens. Optimus worked as a political aide alongside Sentinel, and ultimately inherited the Matrix when the big guy was killed by the Rainmaker Decepticons.

Aligned Sentinel is a bit of a mess, because he was originally called Zeta Prime, but they wound up trying to have it both ways calling him Sentinel Zeta, with his younger self looking like TFA Sentinel, but his WFC design being completely unrelated. I’m saving him for Zeta Prime’s entry, but the main thing inherited from this version was being installed as a Prime by the Quintessons.

But now via, TFONE, Sentinel has fully embraced his villainous heritage. A blend of all the major Sentinels, DOTM and TFA visually and IDW personality wise, he inherits his Prime role from the Quints like Aligned. The main difference is Aligned Sentinel Zeta wised up and chased off the Quintessons, TFONE Sentinel sought to bargain with them for personal gain.

A former aide to the Primes similar to IDW, he instead grew jealous of their glory and power, wanting it for himself. He got his wish when the Quintessons invaded, secretly working for them to destroy the Primes and steal the Matrix. Once the deed was done, Sentinel instead took Megatronus’ T-Cog as a trophy as the Matrix spirited itself away from the unworthy blowhard. Creating an elaborate lie to the clueless populace, Sentinel painted himself as a hero who chased off the Quints and ushered in a new era for Cybertron, creating a new generation of diligent (Cogless) wokers to mine Energon, while he “led” expeditions to find the Matrix that was “lost” in the fight. In truth, he was paying off the Quintessons in Energon, though even Sentinel was forced to admit the arrangement was barely leaving the Transformers with anything.

His downfall came when the main heroes witnessed his dirty dealings, and heard the truth from a still alive Alpha Trion, with D-16 out for mech fluid. While Orion succeeded in showing the populace the lies Sentinel told Cybertron, that wasn’t enough for D-16, who first hand witnessed Sentinel’s mask coming off, his true cruel nature exposed at last. Sentinel was perfectly content in wanting to murder the rebellious High Guard and naughty Miners that fell out of line, wanting to use them as an example by massaging the truth. After all, the truth on Cybertron has always been what Sentinel wanted it to be.

While Orion didn’t want a murder (I assume Orion figured Sentinel would just be thrown in jail while Cybertron restructured itself), and took a shot for Sentinel, it was all for naught, as D-16 killed Sentinel anyway, and took back Meg Prime’s Cog, installing it in himself to fully evolve into Megatron.

TFONE Sentinel took the worst traits of his predecessors, becoming the embodiment of what a truly bad Prime looks like. Notably, Sentinel’s actions absolve Megatronus and Liege Maximo of their own counterparts’ misdeeds, putting all of Cybertron’s problems on Sentinel Prime only (barring any retcons in future sequels). Depending on what future stuff may do, perhaps Sentinel Prime is now the defacto bad Prime over Megs and Liege. What Sentinel Prime Transforms into varies, though with the inclusion of the cartoon “U-Haul Robot”, he tends to be a truck to mirror Optimus, but the truck differs depending on the character.

Hilariously, a new 40th anniversary Missing Link toy repaints the old Optimus toy into G1 Marvel Sentinel.

The modern G1 & TFONE Sentinel are the only deviations, opting for planes, and a space train that’s never really used.

Given the series’ habit of making most flyers villains, and ONE Sentinel’s quite literally being above the miners, maybe future versions of Sentinel will be arrogant jets instead.

[luminecent-sky]

Ooo i just got called out by that (hook still at Lv.1 at e3)

Well, in the case of Hook, she thinks (and this is reinforced by all the adults) that the Aeon of Fate wants to keep her safe! Because the Aeon knows best, and obviously, this is one of those moments.

While some of the older followers are more saddened by this, Asta and other followers that have responsibilities are thankful that they were given the strength and use it to do their duties more easily.

Teens like Clara, Yanqing, and HuoHuo, however....

Silence falls upon the teens as they take a break from training on the Astral express, seeing the adults come back from another successful adventure with their grace, the faint feeling of divinity that enveloped the train leaving it soon after they settled in. 

Yanqing looks over at the other teens in envy as they talk about the small adventures they sometimes joined their Aeon on.... Lynx looked particularly pleased as she recounted a valiant fight against a silvermane commander that she participated in.

It had only been a few hours since she became a vessel of Fate, quickly gaining power, and only a few of them could imagine of, unless you were Qingque or Pela, though the latter had confessed that her growth had been stopped as soon as a certain member of the Nameless reawakened his Vidyadhara powers.

Still, surrounded by other vessels that were younger than him, though being a teenager himself by the Xianzhou standards still stung. Was he not strong enough? Not capable enough? He knew that Sushang felt the same, but she still had something that he envied, she was at least a vessel with multiple glowing eidolons. He wasn't even chosen. 

.

.

.

 The Aeon was there when he fought the Stellaron hunters, when he fought Jingliu and he still lost, despite how their grace had done their damndest to help him triumph, guiding Pollux as she fought him under the control of that wicked woman, Kafka... were those battles, tests? 

Did the others have to face such things before they became vessels? Has he failed in the eyes of Fate? Was it the will of Fate that he could never be chosen? He sat there polishing his swords as doubt continued to swirl in his mind, he has to get better, for himself, and to prove that he was worthy enough for the Aeon to look upon him as a vessel worth relying on. The deep-seeded fear of abandonment rearing its ugly head the longer he dwelled on it. 

He needed to train, get his mind off of it.

—

Silver Wolf was getting bored, her games had gotten boring, and having no part in Elio's current script aside, she had to start from scratch, thanks to Herta and Screwllum* removing her accounts... along with the fact that she wasn't chosen as a vessel, 

It shouldn't bother her. This was fine, even Kafka wasn't chosen, the gacha didn't roll in her favour and all that. But it did sting, especially when Blade became a vessel, one of the main vessels, always returning back to base healed and with an expression of peace, unnerving to those who hadn't spent any length of time around him. 

Sending a hologram to the Astral express, she had the chance to talk to Pollux, to connect to their Aeon before the faint divinity she could feel faded away. 

She could never get used to it, the feeling of something watching you from every angle, seeing you, and through you. As the 'hacker', being unable to hide behind a screen, a hologram never sat right with her... she would only show herself when she wanted to cause chaos, or something really peaked her interest.

But lately, it seemed like the world was shifting again. The way that the other vessels moved seemed to be more.... lethargic, like their god had gotten tired and bored of them, it was unnerving to see the usually chipper and smiling members of the Astral express like this.

Until she found out the reason for this development, their god had encountered a lull in interest, much of the content had become tedious, boring, and much like a chore. But it would be alright, surely this game world would expand and bring their gaze back to her.

Just need to wait for the next update.

-

Clara always strived to be a good kid, caring for everyone in the vagrants' camp, making sure all the machines were in working condition and such.

It was always her dream to have everyone get along, no fighting or resentment, so she was overjoyed when the Aeon set their sights on her home, maybe they could really help unite everyone, sure they fought with Mr. Svarog, but it was a misunderstanding!

And after they came to help life had been slowly improving for everyone in Belebog.

They no longer had to fight with the other miners, and they could finally see the sunlight, feeling the breeze from the overworld. As a whole new world of opportunities opened up for her and the people of the Underworld.

But as she saw the others become blessed, blessed to help, blessed to make a difference in their slowly recovering planet, she felt empty.

Why was she not allowed the same? Was she not good enough? Had her efforts to help those she cared about lacking in the eyes of their Aeon?

Even if the other vagrants and robots assured her of the contrary, that seed of doubt would stay in her heart, taking root and slowly growing.

Nourished by the passing of time, as their Aeon moved to help other worlds, akin to a wound left to fester.

She hoped that one day she would be good enough to be seen by their god.

All she could do was wait.

A/n: no u didn't see this posted last year, tnx

lmaoo it rotted for so long, i will make a part 2 to this i think

[spoiledleaff]

dewdrop: “what the hell are you doing, swiss?”

swiss, doing laundry: “eh? oh, geez, dude! don’t startle me like that—“

dewdrop, taking no shit: “why do you have my blankets? what are you doing?”

swiss: “calm down, fuck. i’m just doing my laundry.”

dewdrop: “OKAY? but that doesn’t explain why you have my blankets?”

swiss: “fuckin— i swiped them? to toss ‘em in the dryer? geez, dew, what’s it look like i’m doing?”

swiss: “you said you were cold sleeping on the couch the other night, and since it’s winter, we know how you get with your magick and your old nihil joints, hehe.”

dewdrop: “but i just washed them.”

swiss: “yeah, i know. i’m just throwing them in the dryer so they’re warm for when you next wanna use ‘em. ‘s not that deep, dew. i’m not trying to somehow poison your fucking blanket.”

dewdrop:

swiss: “…?”

dewdrop, tackling swiss to the floor with a vice-grip on his head and smashing their lips together, tangling their tails together, and twirling their tongues together with a knee sliding up between swiss’ thighs, and—

[vixvaporub]

The Witch and the Beast | Majo to Yajuu by Kousuke Satake – Chapter 58 ◎ The Nameless Seed, Act IX

[doll3tt33]

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in…

(kai anderson x gn!reader)

Summary: Kai found himself watching that terrible 90s sitcom you loved ever so dearly. However, a series of uncomfortable emotions came up, along with haunting memories of you from that fateful night. (Yes this is a fanfic, not an ai bot this time)

Warnings: semi-descriptive violence, strangulation (just that, so nothing too hardcore), death, angst for daysssss

Kai sat alone on his living room couch, the whole house plunged into darkness. The only light came from the flickering television, its pale glow washing over his motionless form, doing little to brighten the heavy shadows blanketing the room. His gaze remained fixed on this horribly cheesy 90s sitcom playing before him, but no mirth touched his hollow eyes. It wasn’t just any ordinary awful ol’ sitcom—it was your favorite, a show you'd watch religiously and always swear by. Well, used to swear by... since the light and laughter have now gone from his life, snuffed out in a blinding moment of rage by his own hands.

A light furrow settled onto Kai’s brows as the sitcom’s canned laughter erupted, grating on his frayed nerves. He was two episodes deep, yet he failed to see the appeal when the laugh track cued every half a minute at each terrible excuse of a joke. He wasn’t even sure why he was watching this. He’d always brush off your requests to watch together, so why now? After pushing you away for so long. Why subject himself to this when you’re already gone for good? His eyes lifted and caught sight of the clock, its face stirring memories better left buried, eliciting a weary sigh from him—it was 7:01 pm, when everything had changed in ways even his guilt-laden thoughts could not grasp. Yet, it didn’t matter anyways—the indentation where her body once curled beside him spoke volumes left unsaid, a ghostly echo of her presence was far louder than any crappy sitcom ever could be.

As he stared into the empty spaces she left, memories long buried began to stir—memories of that night just one week past. That first poisonous seed was planted by one of his cultists when whispers of betrayal at 7:01 pm reached his ears, feeding him lies that you were a mole during this entirety. From hearing that alone, a cluster of emotions plagued his mind as though it was a virulent host taking over, fueled by some nameless hurt. Sickly paranoia took root in an instant, anger and an undeniable hint of hurt twisted within, invading his senses, feasting upon every rational thought left. Visions of lies and disloyalty swarmed his mind, utterly consumed by the ardent flames of his bitter rage as his hands that once clung to love now curdled to vengeance, with them wrapped around your throat, his grip growing stronger with each bellow he let out.

At 7:02, air felt like the most precious commodity as your lungs burned for relief. Each sob and croak of plea choked out fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the torrent of thoughts consuming Kai, with the remaining cultists showing only cold indifference to your struggle. To Kai, you were the one thing—the only person capable of unmaking all he built, rendering the cult that defined his existence meaningless. You were his greatest weakness and his deepest love all at once, yet he could not risk allowing it to unravel what he had wrought. Not even for you. Now, you were no longer the light who touched his stony heart—only a traitor responsible for imagined betrayals. Your attempts to fight back were futile, only compelling his hands to curl tighter and tighter, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Veins bulged starkly against his skin as you bucked helplessly in their clutch. Each struggle spurred only the demand pulsing in his blood: destroy what dared defy.

7:03 pm. Your face had lost its vibrant color, your skin paling as oxygen fled your thrashing form. When you strained to speak, only dribbles of spit emerged through your closing throat. With weakening strength, you raked your nails down his arms, yet your struggles became feeble, futile flailings. Tears blurred your vision as you silently pleaded for mercy, to make him see the truth—that you were no traitor but the one who had held his heart. One final time, you desperately searched his gaze for that one fragment of hope, of love remembered. Just a speck. But shadows had long swallowed any glint of warmth. All that glared back was a crimson fury, vengeance given form, as the darkness deep within now held full sway.

7:04 pm, and awareness began to fray at the seams, thoughts scattering beyond your grasp. Unconsciousness swiftly pulled you into its soundless depths, and you were now limp as a discarded doll. All that remained was a shell devoid of warmth—the body of one that Kai's twisted soul had cherished. A few beats of silence passed as madness loosened its hold, fingers uncurling from bruised flesh and blooms of brutalized skin. He had done it. He had actually done it. You, one of the few people capable of thawing frozen ruins within, were now gone for good.

Kai shook off memories clinging like cobwebs, trying to shift his focus back onto your favorite sitcom, finding bits and pieces, the faint remnants of you existing within the pastime that you’d never shut up about. Yet, it wasn’t the same anymore. It could never be. His gaze lingered on the vacant cushions as loneliness crept in, the empty space beside him mocked with finality. You alone had been a vessel for all the beautifully simple things possible, for him to feel what he thought was long dead—happiness, sadness, hurt, anger, and maybe... just maybe... that small spark of hope that kept him a tiny bit more human, now forever diminished.

𝜗𝜚 author’s note:

Sorry for not adding any dialogue like whatsoever 😭😭. I tried to come up with something but it came out so cringe and I just couldn’t kenensmwk. Oh and SORRY IF THIS IS NOT HOW STRANGULATION WORKS LMAO. I forgot to do my research and I’m not sure how long it takes until someone dies ((why do I have a feeling it actually doesn’t take that long 💀

Anywayss WHOO- first fic ever guys! I’m a lil’ bit insecure cuz I’m constantly like “am I doing this right?” But then I remember It’s literally just writing and I need to shut my stoopid thoughts up-

[anilyan]

Venti theory before i go to sleep

Edited 30/7/2024: I wrote a proper theory post here

Not so crack theory: Venti is Phanes and is the androgynous being born of the alchemical marriage between the Primordial One and Istaroth, before she was betrayed by the Sinners

(I should really go to sleep)

Also yes, I also think Istaroth has the ability to create alt looms of fate through those seeds she gives away, those basically grow into trees that are databases not controlled by Celestia

And I am using this lore in my old mondstadt fic, Nameless (actually soon to turn into trilogy, since vol 2 is about venti rewinding time and vol 3 is present time story and I took so long to plan all the lore with all the canon crumbs and theories we had...)

Here is extra stuff I claimed in my fic and repeat in the notes of chapter 14, that basically got confirmed in some of the next videos:

Teyvat is theoretically 2 worlds, the version we know and the mirror world. Not sure if the mirror world is the abyss but I chose to go with that for the fic. But it’s likely, and we can even see similar world structures in Honkai Star Rail, especially in Penacony, where the world there is literally mirrored and a dream too.

Cycle: People die » are absorbed by the roots » are supposed to travel to the top of the world tree (inverted, so top is in abyss) to become Irminsul fruit / stars » said stars form constellations that determine people's fate, or more accurately, since they are all in a dream, are data that allows the tree to predict their fates » it’s because people exist as stars that their fates and presence can be summoned in the form of shooting stars

Dainsleif confirmed that the leylines can be woven to determine Fate / have their records changed. The Loom used to weave them is a Symphony, or in other words, Remus’ Symphony of Fate is very similar or the same thing as the Loom of Fate. Add to that some Penacony’s parallels, and you can infer that the Symphony is controlled in the floating palace , that is actually a Grande Theater, by the Sun(day) (potentially Phanes), and it’s reflected by the moons (Aria, Sonnet and Canon, so the musical associations are fitting). Considering that the 3 moon sisters are also probably the mythological Moirai who weave Fate, yeah, that tracks.

I made up the part about the seeds given by Istaroth being used to create an alternate database that can contradict the information on Irminsul, but who knows, maybe I got it right. I mean, just recently I saw people associate her with Khaenri’ahs soldiers because they used the 8 pointed Ishtar star in their uniforms, so with her, anything is possible. Venti got a badass mom.

Some videos I suggest that basically confirmed some of the ideas I am going for (and that explain several of the reasons I say what I say):, from most recent and relevant to oldest and not so relevant