#was it even worth being born in the first place?

[morlock-holmes]

So, people explaining that AI isn't "real art" bother me, not so much because of the answer they reach but because most of the people saying it isn't seem to romanticize not just commercial art production, but also bizarrely to romanticize AI as well, in ways that bother me for subtle reasons I want to try to articulate.

So, first of all, I personally don't think fine art will be changed much by AI.

"What if the artist isn't directly producing the art but instead letting some process create it?"

Convergence by Jackson Pollock, 1952

"What if the so called "artist" is merely rearranging and recontextualizing something that already exists?"

"What if the artist outsources a tremendous amount of work?"

Cambell's Soup Can, Andy Warhol, 1968

The fine art world already confronted these questions and answered between 1912 and, what, 1980 at the latest maybe?

My point here is not to assert the artistic worth of these paintings but to assert their undeniable importance to 20th century art history.

Nobody paying thousands of dollars for a traditional painting on canvas is going to buy an AI version because it's cheaper; such people are already paying a premium for artistic technique and cultivated human talent.

Or, alternatively, I have absolutely no doubt that people would pay a lot for an AI project with, I don't know, Banksy's name on it, even if it was made with freely available, open source tools, because in other cases people are paying for, essentially, a name.

The fine art community already confronted the questions raised by AI art and we're already on the other side of that confrontation. Statistically, the large battles being waged over these issues already finished before you were born.

The actually (potentially) endangered part of the art world is the commercial art world.

Not fine art, but art produced as part of an essentially commercial process in large part under the direction of other people. Fan Art, scripts for films, stock footage, key art used for commercial campaigns, pulp fiction cover illustrations, etc.

And, first of all, the reason that you can be so romantically attached to low-brow, heavily commercial art in the way that you are without feeling utterly absurd about it is Marcel Duchamp's Fountain and the works of Andy Warhol, so maybe have a bit more respect for them and their place in history if you are going to romanticize commercial art production.

Second, because it is those things that are threatened, defenses of human art against AI tend to have this kind of implicit view that the things which characterize commercial pop art are the most important characteristics of art. There is something about this that kind of bothers me for reasons I have trouble bringing up.

Okay, like, one I just watched a YouTube video where the creator said, more or less, "Can you imagine a world where people are so alienated from the production of art that instead of learning to produce it themselves, they type 'woman painting a picture' into a box on a computer and something just pops out?"

The video background was stock footage of a woman painting.

You have this really obnoxious trend of people who make monetized YouTube videos out of other people's copyrighted clips (Claiming "Fair use") talking about how awful it is for AI to "steal" other people's works, and people who fill their videos with stock footage and library tracks talking about how crazy it is that anybody would want to outsource this stuff instead of learning to do it themselves.

But also, beneath that, there is a kind of picture of "What's important about art" that is being built purely out of commercial concerns but masquerading as belief in something higher, and that really bugs me. Stock footage is elevated to the highest of human endeavors purely because it is commercially threatened by AI production.

[lesbiannnsstuff]

i know what you want

warnings: alpha!shauna x alpha!reader, top!shauna x bottom!reader, afab reader, dub con, porn with plot, power dynamics, cunnilingus, fingering, biting, swearing

7k words

If life was a gamble, being born as an alpha would be considered winning the lottery. Physically submitting betas, easily attracting omegas with your scent, and commanding a room just by stepping in one, if so desired. It couldn't get better than that, really.

Even so, you were never one to get too cocky about it. Choosing to protect instead of attack. Just like when you used to fight to save your betas and omegas friends in middle school, against alphas bullies. You promised yourself your strength was a steady rock to rely on and not a pedestal from which you couldn't allow yourself to fall. You refused to lean into the overwhelmingly aggressive nature expected of you.

Some of your alpha friends thought it was nonsense, wasting your high rank, but every time some weaker leaned on you, it made it all worth it. And you were proud of that because the survival of the fittest didn’t mean standing above those with lower rank, but standing beside them and helping them thrive as well.

Your principles followed, you anywhere, and the same thing happened once you joined your school’s soccer team in your senior year.

“C'mon, girls! We need to score only one more to get to the nationals!” you yelled to your teammates as you saw how the numbers on the timer were getting closer to zero. It all happened so fast and before you knew it Jackie was heading the ball and scoring the much-needed point. You're going to the nationals.

The locker room felt like a party. Everyone was singing or laughing. You were the state champions, after all. Considering it had been long since Wiskayok High School had won a significant tournament, it was a big deal. And taking into consideration that the only other team in school was the boys from baseball, well, the responsibility was on your back after all. You were the last to get out of the locker room, closing your locker and throwing your bag over your shoulder.

“You’re still here,” you quickly turned towards that familiar voice, a little unsettled by the interruption of your thoughts.

“Shauna? I thought you went home with Jackie,” she glanced at you briefly, before walking to her locker.

“Forgot something,” she murmured, her voice low and smooth. You stood there momentarily before nodding, even though she didn’t look at you anymore, her gaze fixated on the notebook she grabbed from the locker, tucked in her bag.

Her movements are deliberate. No rush, she never rushed. Ironic for the fastest player you’ve ever met. She also didn't seem to feel pressured by your presence, completely unbothered by the idea of having to interact with you. But, again, you doubted Shauna felt pressured to do anything. You thought that maybe for being the only other alphas in the team, she would either befriend you or challenge you for dominance or influence. Still, she didn't seem compelled to do either, leaving to Jackie, her beta best friend, and you, the caring alpha, to lead the way as captain and co-captain.

But, in the end, Shauna always had this thing about her, this quiet confidence, moving calmly as if the world rotated around her. For her, it was unsettling, in a way, how composed she seemed all the time. Most girls thought that her apparent indifference and intimidating posture were all there was about her, but not you. You thought there was something so much more intense and wild about her, and you never knew what it was.

“You played well today. That assist? Perfect timing.” you began, filling the silence. She paused, glancing at you. Her brown eyes were deep and charged with something you couldn’t quite place like she was sizing you. Her gaze lingered a second too long before she looked away. “Thanks”

You couldn't fathom her cold answers, this is the first time in ages since you’ve been alone with her and you don't know exactly what but there's something about Shauna Shipman that is way too magnetic just to let her go like this. There's something about her that every time you brush shoulders, or when you catch her staring whenever you're changing after a game that makes you incredibly anxious. Like you're anticipating, waiting for something you don't know why. “Are you going to that party before nationals?” You leaned against your locker, watching her, trying to seem as unbothered as her.

Shauna sighed, almost imperceptibly. “Jackie didn't give me a choice.” She closed her locker ready to go. “Are you guys together?” You regretted your question the moment it came out of your mouth. Shauna's gaze sharpened in a matter of seconds.

“I don't think that's any of your business” The sharpness in her tone sent a jolt through you, leaving you breathless, her words cutting through the air like a knife. You knew you’d overstepped, but something about the way she looked at you now, ferocious, unflinching, and ardent with quiet fervor, made it impossible to regret the question entirely.

“Yeah, fair,” you replied, crossing your arms and forcing a casual shrug even as you could barely feel your knees.

Shauna didn’t move for a moment, her eyes boring into yours with a potency you never felt before. You hated the heavy silence but you didn’t dare to say anything, scared of how weak your voice would sound. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her movements deliberate.

“You always ask questions you don’t want answers to?” she said finally, her glare locked onto you. Her voice is quieter now, but no less sharp. There was a challenge in her tone, a dare.

You felt the blow hitting you intensely. You hesitated, caught off guard, but you wouldn't let her see it, so you just scoffed, rolling your eyes in a weak attempt at nonchalance. “Maybe I just like to get to know my teammates.”

At that, Shauna let out a smooth, humorless chuckle that made your whole body buzz. “You want to understand me?” She asked seriously now, tone low and steady, each word weighing heavy on your ears. “You wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag, trying to hold onto something. “Maybe I’d start with how you're always behind the scenes,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “So controlled... you never even tried to come up to me once. You never challenged me or tried to assert your dominance.”

Her eyes were unreadable, as she stepped even closer. She moved so confidently, every step more precise and sure than the last one. As if the space between you was hers to take. You didn’t realize your back hit the lockers.

“Dominance isn’t something you show off,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. “It’s something you make people feel.” Her words sank into you, pressing against your chest with unmeasurable force.

“Is that what Jackie feels?” You were trying to redirect the tension, to shift the focus off of yourself and let you breathe for even as long as a second, but the question only seemed to deepen the intensity in her gaze.

“Jackie?” Shauna repeated, her eyebrow shot up almost imperceptibly and her lips curving into the smallest hint of a smile that didn’t even reach her eyes. “Jackie’s safe with me. because I want her to be, that’s all there is to it.”

The message behind her words was impossible to miss. “So... people are only safe if you decide they should be?” you asked, slightly annoyed at her calm arrogance. She leaned in just slightly, her scent suddenly overwhelming with something unmistakably alpha. An aggressive scent that seemed to fill the entire room.

Her voice dropped to a near murmur. “Do you think anyone’s safe when I don’t want them to be?”

The words made your breath hitch, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. Her eyes were too much but you couldn't dare to look away either. You forced yourself to say, though your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be. “Am I safe?”

Shauna chuckled again, brief and so low you could feel it vibrating on your chest. “You're an alpha too, you tell me,” she said, sizing you up, but something in her eyes made you realize she wasn't so impressed. You couldn't hold back how that pissed you off.

“You don’t have to be so intense all the time,” you spoke as steadily as you could, gathering all the fight you still had.

Shauna’s eyes narrowed, and she took another step closer, chests barely touching. “And you don’t have to act like you’re not affected by it,” she said, her tone final. And just like that, all the left fight was gone.

Your heart pounded, your throat dry as sand as you struggled to find a response, a witty comeback, or anything to close the gap between your positions. But before you could say anything, Shauna turned toward the door. Then she delivered her final blow.

“And by the way, I never tried to assert my dominance over you for a simple reason”

She stopped at the door, her head tilting slightly as she looked back at you. “Because the way you look at me… it’s submission enough.”

The door closed behind her, leaving you standing there, stunned and breathless. You let yourself slide to the floor. Her voice still echoed in your mind.

The way you look at me, it’s submission enough

You’re an alpha. Submission and you were like oil and water. Or, at least, they were supposed to be. Then why does Shauna seem so certain? And why you’re feeling so exposed like you've just been caught? Then it hit you.

You were not only intrigued by Shauna or her ways. You were drawn by it.

You were attracted to the same alpha characteristics that made her an alpha, just like you.

No, not like you. She was something else, something more. And, as much as you hated to admit it, you were being pulled to her because of it.

You saw Shauna at the party as you confidently sipped your drink. You couldn’t help but notice Randy chugging his beer in some sort of drinking game and dedicating it to her. You scoffed and she rolled her eyes. Like Shauna would be interested in him, yeah, sure, Randall.

“Look, I don't know if you realized, but this is a party. You should be having fun and not sizing up the competition” Van elbowed your torso playfully, and you turned to her wide-eyed. Were you so obvious? Could she possibly have noticed your disdain for Randy? Or, even worse, your attraction to Shauna?

"Randy? Please, like he even stands a chance with Shauna. She's way out of his league," you said, sipping your drink trying to seem nonchalant.

Van raised an eyebrow, her smile widening amused. “You know I wasn't talking about Shauna, right? But it was interesting that it was your conclusion. Interesting,” the redhead laughed loudly, looking at you like you just told her the best joke she’d ever heard.

“What the fuck were you even talking about?” You asked with a scowl trying to cover your embarrassment. “I meant the drinking game. Thought you’d take him on since you’re so good at it.” You almost lost Van's explanation as the girl couldn't stop laughing.

Van began to recompose herself, slapping your back as if to break the awkward tension. “Relax. I won't tell anyone that you dig alphas too” You thank Van, forcing a small smile, but your mind is already spinning.

Then the night took a turn.

It started with a heated argument between Shauna and Taissa, voices cutting through the music before the other girls joined in the mess. Jackie was trying to part the fight unsuccessfully. Shauna's scent had begun to make its presence in the air, the rich and smooth smell growing overwhelmingly. You observed how a few omegas nearby began to shrink back in discomfort.

Before you knew it, you were standing beside her. “Shauna, come here for a second,” you said firmly, your hand gripping hers as you led her toward a more empty corner.

Shauna didn’t resist, though her anger could still be seen coming out in waves, her sharp fangs threatening to make their appearance. Once you were far enough away from the chaos, you let go of her hand, she leaned against a tree, exhaling slowly.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked pissed off, clenching your fists in annoyance.

“Your savior complex is incredibly annoying, you know that right?” she said, her voice tight.

“Your scent was all over the place!” you replied, your voice heightening a couple of tones, standing a few feet away, arms crossed. “Some of the others couldn’t handle it. It was too much for them. They were scared”

Her eyes locked onto yours, stepping closer. “And what about you? Can you handle me?” she asked, her voice smooth, the challenge unmistakable.

You swallowed hard, refusing to step back. “You know I’m not like the others.”

Her lips curved into a slow, teasing smirk. “No, you’re not.” She took another step, grabbing your jacket and pulling you close enough now that her scent was all you could breathe in. Her gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes.

Your pulse quickened loudly in your ears as you tried to hold your ground. “I didn’t bring you out here to fight,” you managed to say, though your voice was shakier than you intended.

“Are you sure that’s not what you want? Trying to be the alpha of the team, huh?” Shauna leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Or maybe," she murmured, her voice dropping dangerously, "you just wanted me all to yourself."

Your stomach flipped and you pushed her away. You felt like you were teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t name, and Shauna was right there, daring you to jump. You just didn’t know if she’d catch you or let you fall. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back, almost in a growl. Her smirk widened, her fingers still gripping your jacket.

"Oh, I don’t need to," she replied smoothly. "I can smell it on you."

"Don’t play games with me, Shipman," you warned, your voice sharper and steadier than you were feeling.

Her expression didn’t falter, but her eyes shone with something untamed, something that was enjoying the situation. Like she was amused to see you so worked up. Her eyes were predatory, like a beast who toys with its prey. "Who said I’m playing? You think you’re so above it all, don’t you?" Her tone was mocking. "Such a noble alpha. But deep down... you’re just like the rest of us. Driven by instinct. Waiting for a moment where you can bare your teeth.”

Shauna smiled. “But it's a tragedy though,” the alpha continued slowly. “Maybe you could go fucking crazy if it wasn’t for me. Because as long as I'm here you'll never be able to bite, only bark”

“You are drunk” you replied trying to prevent yourself from lashing out.

“And you are pretending” Shauna tilted her head. “Like you’re unshaken, my equal, a threat. You're acting tough, trying to press everyone else but I don't buy it for a second. I can see what you are.” Her smile widened in defiance.

“You better watch your mouth, Shipman.” Your scent became stronger, lingering in the air.

“A big puppy who likes to growl but wants to be tamed by someone who knows how” That was it. When you began to lunge towards Shauna. She bent her knees waiting for the impact.

“What the fuck is going on here?” A high-pitched voice stopped both of you. You both look at the same time to that familiar scent. “Jackie…”

“I thought you brought here for some air and not to fight,” Jackie said visibly annoyed and she walked towards you and pointed her finger to your chest. She was right. You lost your composure, you let your anger lead you instead of your thoughts.

“It was my fault,” Shauna said, fixing her hair. “I had way too much to drink and didn't think straight. They were actually trying to make me behave” She continued with a knowing smirk.

“It’s fine, just, let's get you out of here. We're almost past our curfew anyways” Jackie grabbed Shauna's hand and began to pull her out of there. “And, thank you, really, for earlier” Jackie turned to you momentarily. You only nodded back.

You clenched your jaw, watching Jackie pull her away. Running a hand through your hair you realize that Shauna had you exactly where she wanted you, and who knows what would happen if Jackie didn't get there in time. You were sure that there wouldn't be the last time Shauna would test or the last time you’d rise to meet her. You just didn’t know that the next time that would happen, Jackie would be there to stop here.

It's been months since you have been in the wilderness. If you knew that that party would be one of your last moments of normalcy, you'd enjoy it to the fullest, maybe even play against Randy in that disgusting drinking game until you passed out. Or, even talk more with Shauna. Even if just fighting like the last time. It's been such a long time since she had a proper conversation with someone. Taissa being the one gets closer to doing so. Although you can still notice her staring at you from across the room.

All of you just fell into this system. Everyone has their chores and works together to make survival minimally bearable. After Shauna lost Jackie and later the baby she became feral, disrupting the fragile society you have built together. You weren't at the house at the time hell broke loose. When you came back you only saw Lottie on the ground, beaten up and bloody. You yelled at Shauna that day, throwing insults at one another as the fine line connecting you both snapped. After that day you barely talked with each other anymore.

Over time, it fractured into two groups, those who followed Shauna, driven by her ruthless determination to survive at any cost, and those who sided with you, clinging to a semblance of empathy and humanity amidst the chaos. The divide was subtle at first, but it grew into something much more pronounced.

The girls made sure that you wouldn't be in the same room alone and your chorus were never in the same place or at the same time. The wilderness was dangerous enough as it was and none of you really needed two enraged suppressants-lacking bloodlust alphas growling at each other and stinking the forest with musky pheromones. And that worked. For weeks. Until it didn’t.

It was like any other day, boring and repetitive, as you finished your daily chores. After putting aside the makeshift cleaning tools you just wanted to allow yourself to be lazy for the day. Stretching your sore limbs.

“You're not in charge anymore”. That voice. After hearing the sound, you quickly went straight to the window trying to catch a glimpse of the commotion outside.

Shauna stood tall and imposing over Nat, smirking sinisterly at the omega. The blonde was shaking, clearly distressed by Shauna's overwhelming scent. You didn’t need to be a genius to know what was going on. Shauna was again threatening the group's fragile hierarchy. You were aware Shauna wasn’t happy with Natalie as the antler queen, but you didn't realize she’d question her authority in front of everybody.

“What the fuck is going on here?” you yelled, stomping out of the cabin, your voice cutting through the silence of the crowd.

“She’s weak,” Shauna said unbothered, her tone dripping with disdain. “She isn't a leader. You know that.”

Nat gave you a desperate glance, her bottom lip quivering. She wanted to say something but couldn’t defend herself in this situation.

“You’re out of line, Shauna,” you replied, stepping between them. “The wilderness had chosen because she earned it.”

“It was a mistake,” she replied matter-of-fact, crossing her arms.

“You aren't the one to decide it” You stepped in front of Nat, eyes boring into the challenging Shauna.

“Look around. I'm not the only one” She opened her arms confidently, inviting you to observe everyone's faces, and you realized that Shauna was right. All were staring at you with cold glares, demanding change, even those you thought would be against this pseudo-coup. Van, Taissa… God, even damn Travis Martinez. But you didn’t care, you may not be the most fervent wilderness worshipper, but if it decides their antler queen, you'd make your job to protect her.

“If you want to challenge her, you’ll have to go through me.” You growled, making sure to show your growing fangs.

“I’ll give you a chance to take that back.” Shauna scowled, releasing pheromones so heavy you felt like gravity doubled its force, but you didn't back down, releasing your own pheromones.

Murmurs spread through the group. Mari, standing beside Shauna, grinned like she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Why don’t we settle this the way alphas should?” Mari offered, her voice beaming with dark enthusiasm. “A fight. You and Shauna. The winner takes charge. Let’s see who really deserves to lead.”

You clenched your fists, your blood-boiling anger at Shauna for starting this mess, anger at the group for not saying anything about it, and anger at yourself for not being able to handle this situation any better. You didn’t want to give Shauna the satisfaction of a fight, but deep down, you knew this wasn’t any other way. The pack needed stability, and Shauna’s challenge threatened to tear down what little unity remained within you.

“Fine. Not in front of everyone. I don’t want anyone possibly hurt or overwhelmed”

Shauna’s smirk widened. “Of course not. We’ll take it to the forest. Just us.”

The sun had set, and the moon shone beautifully in the sky. “You don't have to do this for me,” Nat said as she cupped your cheek. “It's not only for you, Nat. The whole pack is in danger if Shauna actually takes over.” Nat smiled, closing her eyes and connecting your foreheads. “May the wilderness be with you”

Shauna cleared her throat, visibly annoyed. “It’s time,” she said, putting her knife on the belt. You had a small knife with you as well.

“The rules are simple. You'll walk to different points in the forest and will have to find the other. Whoever gets the other to submit wins. As the tradition says.” Mari said after clapping her hands to call everyone's attention.

“Remembering no one is supposed to get seriously hurt.” Taissa stepped up, her voice firm and commanding as she observed Mari's enthusiasm with narrowed eyes.

With one last look to the cabin, you and Shauna began to walk to the forest, on opposite sides. You knew things would never be the same after this, but whatever the consequences would be, you were prepared to face it.

The forest seemed quieter that noon like it was holding its breath in anticipation. Its oppressive silence pressed against your limbs like a suffocating weight. Your steps on the soil and dry leaves were the only sounds in the middle of that vast forest, but every crack of a twig underfoot was stifled by your racing heartbeat in your ears. It's been about ten minutes you haven’t heard of Shauna. You tried to steady your breathing, but the idea that Shauna could be watching you, lurking you, made it impossible as your skin crawled. At some point, you just wished she would appear at any moment to free you from this building anxiety making your knees shake.

Your sweaty palms clutched the hilt of the knife in your hand with great force, a solace in this ocean of uncertainty. The oppressive silence of the forest drove your senses heightened to the point of exhaustion. You were here because you wanted to protect everything at risk. The ones who didn’t agree with Shauna, the society you’ve built throughout the months, peace. But a question lingered insistently in the back of your mind: aren't you at risk as well?

You tried to steady your breathing, tried to cling to the reason that had brought you here, but that was hard to think about when you knew that Shauna was out there, somewhere.

The woods seemed endless, each tree seemingly the same as the last one, blending into the next in a maze. Suddenly, you hear the faint rustle of leaves behind you, you turn immediately, but you can’t see anything suspicious. No movement, no sound. Maybe this whole situation is driving you crazy, making your anxious brain play tricks on you.

Or that you thought.

“You don’t seem very well,” a low chuckle broke the silence, and your stomach dropped. You spun around, your eyes scanning the shadows. “Poor baby. Seems so scared” Shauna’s voice echoed through the woods mockingly.

Your grip tightened around the knife as you scanned your surroundings, forcing yourself to stand tall even though your legs felt like jelly. “Are you so scared you can't show yourself?” you yelled, trying so hard to sound firm, but still wavering slightly.

Another sinister chuckle broke, slightly closer this time. “No, it's just so much more fun watching you scared.”

Then, she appeared. Right behind you.

“I'm so sorry, I know it isn’t right to play with my food”. She whispered in your ear., making your skin crawl. Your legs felt glued to the ground. Her scent hit you like a freight train, unrailed. You wanted to look back, your instincts screamed at you to turn to her and use that knife you brought with you. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

“Look at you,” she murmured, her voice dripping with mockery as she buried her nose in the crook of your neck. “Trying so hard to look brave, but I can smell it on you, you know? The fear.” Her front pressed against your back firmly, and one hand on your waist pulled you closer, as the other slid down your thigh. “Your legs are shaking…” Your eyes widened in horror.

Move, move, move goddamnit.

In a moment of bravery, you elbowed her torso, and turned back, creating some distance between you. “I’m not afraid of you!” You pointed the knife at her threateningly, daring her to step closer. And she did.

“I bet you think you look so intimidating right now,” Her steps were firm against the leaves, creating a rhythmic sound as she stepped closer. “Stay where you are, Shipman!” You began to back away slowly, she smiled at your motions. “I bet you think you look so big and strong… but let me tell you something…” you kept moving back, trying to create some distance. “I'm not kidding!” your hand clutching the knife was trembling, you barely could stand your arm straight.

“The truth is, you look exactly what you are” Your back hit a tree, ceasing your steps. She stopped walking when the tip of your shaky knife rested on her stomach. “Like a cornered little rat.” In a hasty move, she grabbed your knife and threw it somewhere you couldn't bother looking. “Did you even know how to use that thing?” she asked, visibly amused, her smirk beaming in arrogance and someone else, something you were scared to find out.

“We don't have to do this, Shauna. We can just talk and solve this”. You offered, voice cracking midst sentence. She tilted her head, in a slow, deliberate motion, her smile widening as her fingers brushed against your cheek, feather-light.

“You know something that always intrigued me about you?” her fingers trailed from your cheek to your jawline, contouring your bone. “You always act so righteous, so put together and proud of not being like the other alphas,” her eyes burned into yours, a predatory gaze staring into your raw soul.

“But you're so attracted to the wild, to bare instinct… to primal rage” You swing yours first, targeting her face, but she was faster and pinned your wrist to the tree, squeezing it so hard it made you wince. “Is this why you like to put yourself in danger? Because you want this adrenaline, to hear your heart racing?” her fingers began to glaze on your side, Shauna seemed entranced by the movements of her own hand.

You took it as an opportunity to strike again, your knee moved into the direction of her torso, but once more Shauna was too fast, and defended herself. A hand grabbed your jaw forcefully, “I'm trying to go easy on you don't make regret on that” She let remnants of her alpha voice escape in that sentence. And you froze for what seemed like the 100th time that noon.

Menacing fangs made their presence as she pressed her body flush against yours, soft but firm flesh. Her lips ghosted against yours, close enough to make them tingle in anticipation. The hand on your jaw slid slowly to your nape and then your hair, pulling it roughly exposing your neck to her.

“Shauna…” your voice sounded so weak you almost didn't recognize it. Soft lips brushed on the surface of your throat, sharp teeth grazing it just slightly, enough to make you shiver. “Tell me,” She said, breathing hot on your skin, “What are you most afraid of? That I’m gonna hurt you? Or that you'll like it?” She kissed your skin, open-mouthed and warm. Too softly considering your current situation.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, before letting out a gasp once you felt Shauna biting down. “Shh,” Shauna pressed her body even further on yours. “Just let me do this. I know you want it too” You let yourself melt, little by little. The alpha in front of you smirked against your jaw.

You weren’t about to give in without a fight. Once you felt Shauna lowering her guard you summoned every ounce of courage you had left, you twisted your body, wrenching your wrist free from her grip and pushing her shoulders. Shauna growled at your defiance but didn't back away. You swing your arm at her, punching as hard as you can. She dodged your strike and grabbed your arm mid-swing, using your momentum against you, she spun you around and slammed you into the ground.

With a grunt, you twisted beneath her, trying to buck her off, trying to shift her weight. But Shauna was too strong, too determined. When you tried to turn to your side in a failed attempt to spin her, she was the one to spin you around once more, landing you on your face this time. You swung your elbow, this time aiming for her side, but Shauna caught it way too easily, twisting it painfully and pressing it on your back. Before you could react, she had you helpless, her weight pressing against your back, her breath hot on your nape.

“You're still fighting,” Shauna muttered, voice covered with annoyance and amusement. “But I can see you're liking this… I've always known you liked this” She licked a long stripe on your neck. “You always looked at me with those big puppy eyes when you thought I didn’t see it” Her hips rolled forward, beginning to grind against the back of your thigh.

You froze. “Shauna, what the-”

“So composed” She interrupted you, breathing hot on your face. “Playing the knight in shiny armor, trying to hide how much you just wanted to be broken, tamed… devoured”

You felt your blood rushing to your cheeks and a way too familiar sensation on your clit, asking for something you didn’t want to acknowledge. “You’re so stubborn. But I like that about you. You wouldn’t be so fucking sexy if you weren’t” She wrapped her hand around your throat and used her thumb to turn your chin towards her, making you look at her.

Her other hand slid under your shirt, roaming down your side, her fingers grazing over your ribs. “Together, we would be unmatchable. Have you ever thought about that?” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple. “We are stronger, more powerful, better… We shouldn’t take orders, we should give them. Like we were born to do” She gave a last bite of your earlobe before turning you to her completely.

She cleaned the remains of dirt from your cheek. “Think about it,” She began to lift her shirt, and your eyes widened, scanning her every move. “You by my side. Ruling together. No one would challenge us. Not Nat, not Lottie, not anyone”

“You want me as your slave with benefits?” You said, eyes still fixated on the soft and toned muscles of her abs. “I wouldn’t say, my slave, more like my right-hand man” She began to tug on the hem of your shirt, and when you thought she would lift it too, she used her other hand to rip it open. “But I wouldn't say you won't have benefits”

“Are you craz-” Shauna connected your mouths before you could finish your protest, she harshly bit down your bottom lip, making you groan. You tried to push her away by instinct, but she didn’t budge, only bit it harder. Trying to get away from the pain you swung a punch to her ribs. You thought she would be pissed off and would lash at you, but Shauna only pulled smiling sinisterly at you, with remains of your blood on her teeth. You couldn’t escape the shiver running down your spine.

“There it is…” She closed the distance between you again, but this time she truly kissed you. The kiss was feral, uncontrolled… Shauna. Her skin pressed against yours, enveloping you in this primal heat that made your skin tingle. Her tongue shoved in your mouth, you didn't have time to assimilate completely that wet sensation, when her thigh pressed between your legs, drawing a gasp from you. God, you hated how you pulsed under her touch.

Shauna slyly took her hand to toy with your bra clasp. Her bloody sleep traveled down to your jawline, biting it hard. Your hand shot up to grab her wrist, nails digging in as you tried to push her away. She winced, before chuckling darkly unclapsing your underwear anyway, before throwing it somewhere.

Your first reaction was to cover yourself, but she was fast. “Don't you dare” With a growl, she pinned your wrists down, nails digging into your forearm. Her gaze burned on your chest. You felt exposed, but with Shauna's like full weight in pressing you against the dirt, you couldn’t move. You just lay there, like a prey playing dead not to startled the predator. You couldn't stop yourself from sneakily rutting against Shauna's thigh pressed on you.

She looked hypnotized, in a trance as she moved closer and without any warning caught your nipple in her mouth. Shauna moaned on your chest, her soft plump lips sucking on it eagerly. Her tongue flicked at the bud inside her mouth. With a last bite on your nipple, she captured the other chest. You felt your body buzzing, your back arching towards against your command.

“Don’t move your hands” She let go of your wrist and moved her fingers to unzip your shorts. Her mouth began to liss its way down your body, until your lower stomach, where she licked and bit it. “Stop… Shauna…” You tried to push her shoulders, but she ignored you, pulling your shorts off you and spreading your legs wide.

“You're fucking insane…” You said it with gritted teeth, cheeks burning as you watched her gaze fixating on your panties. “And you're wet,” she said lowly, and as if to prove her point Shauna used her thumb to rub on your clothed pussy. She was right, you could feel the fabric sticking to your slippery, warm folds. A moan broke out before you could stop.

That seemed to turn something in Shauna's mind. Seeing you struggling, squirming under like a small rabbit trying to run from a big bad wolf. It was the hottest thing she'd ever seen. She leaned down, her breath hot against the soaked fabric, she pressed her nose on it, your smell driving her absolutely crazy.

She pushed your panties to the side and looked up at you, hungry eyes expecting you to say something, to fight her. “Tell me no, tell me to stop” Her mouth was so close now, hot kisses on your inner thigh, fangs gripping into your flesh, tonguing darting out and tasting your skin. No one ever looked at you like this before, you were supposed to be the hunter, the alpha. But now you were questioning everything, clenching and unclenching your hands over your stomach trying to say something.

But Shauna wasn't waiting.

Her tongue darted out, dragging a long, deliberate line along your folds. The shock of the sensation sent your hips jerking upward involuntarily, and she chuckled darkly, the vibration against your skin making you bite back a moan, you could feel her smile against you.

Her fingers gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you spread open for her as her mouth worked passionately. Each flick, nip, and slurp was messy but not careless. She knew how to break you, to draw out sounds you couldn't contain no matter how hard you tried. "You taste like you've been waiting for this," she said against you, her voice smug,

The sheer audacity of her words lit up a fire of indignation within you, and you reached down, grabbing a fistful of her hair to yank her back. But instead of being unmotivated, Shauna groaned, her eyes rolling back slightly as if the roughness only turned her on even more. She just dived into you with more passion. She was moaning, and groaning against you, like she tasting her last meal.

As if that wasn't enough for her, Shauna slid her finger in you, relishing in the way your gummy walls clenched around her. Her breath hitched. "That's it," she muttered, almost to herself, her voice raw. "You can fight all you want, but this…" she curled her finger inside you, hitting a spot that made you arch uncontrollably, "...this doesn't lie.”

Her nails were so purposefully deep on your thigh, scratching your skin. Every action was possessive, unrelenting as if she was claiming you with every touch. She adds another finger, her pace brutal and unforgiving. Her other hand pinned down your hips from fucking yourself against her hand like she selfishly wanted to be the one giving you pleasure. Her thumb found your clit, circling it with a precision that made your vision blurred.

Shauna leaned up, her face hovering just inches from yours, her breath hot and heavy. "Every time you look at me, every time you challenge me... I've wanted this. Wanted you.” The wilderness swallowed your sounds, Shauna and the trees being the only ones to hear your desperation, the pleasure the alpha was giving you. “Come on, bunny. Lost all the fight in you?”

Your teeth clenched, your body trembling in want. You're close, and Shauna knew that, and Shauna would take advantage of that. “I could keep you like this all night, edging you, leaving you…” you shot what you thought to be a threatening glare at her, but clearly it wasn’t threatening enough since it only caused Shauna’s smile.

"Say you're mine. Say you love this, that you love me fucking you like this." You shook your head, your pride clashing with the raw pleasure. "Never," you hissed, though your voice wavered. Shauna's grin turned sinister, and without warning, she withdrew her fingers from you, leaving you empty. “Oh, you will," she said, her tone dripping with dark amusement. "Because if you don't, I won't let you come."

Your jaw clenched, your body shaking with the effort of holding back. But Shauna wouldn't make it easy for you, her fingers still resting on you, rubbing you teasingly, driving you closer and closer to the edge without ever letting you fall completely. You could take just as much. Finally, the tension snapped. Your voice broke, and came out as a desperate moan. “Fine!" you yelled, "I want this, I want you!"

Shauna's laughter was satisfied, her fingers immediately entering back into you, her thumb circling your clit once more. "Good bunny," she purred, her voice dripping with victory. "Was that so hard?"

The intensity of her movements made your head spin, and she leaned down, her lips capturing yours in an intense kiss. "You're mine now,”. A cry tore from your throat, and a wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Shauna didn't stop, drawing out every last tremor and drip from your body until you were a trembling mess beneath her. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. "I told you, bunny... you were made to be mine.”

[soviet-supersoldier]

Alright, since the events of Raid on Greymalkin directly affects Arkady, let's talk about it and how terribly the X-men have all been written in this narrative for this story to work and what it likely means for Arkady’s future.

So, in the first issue of Sentinels, Omega Red was captured and brought to Greymalkin Prison by the new Sentinels that Larry Trask and Warden Ellis have created to hunt down "bad" mutants. Keep in mind, Omega Red did absolutely nothing to deserve being thrown into a place like this, as his arc in the From the Ashes Infinity Comic shows. In fact, no one imprisoned here deserves to face what goes on behind these closed doors:

Here, we are shown the state of this prison. It's flithy, rat-ridden, and disgusting. These characters have to live in this place. Blob is being tortured, and -- as we later come to learn in the events of Raid -- brainwashed KGB-style through this method of torture to become a "trustee." I'm going to focus on this a bit as it is important to not only show how this is going to affect the imprisoned characters moving forward from this storyline, but also how it paints the X-men in a very bad light for allowing this to continue.

So, the characters who are imprisoned in Greymalkin currently are all characters who have been villains at one point or another. Every one of these characters has faced judgment and hatred for being what they are and what they were made into. Omega Red is a prime example of this. As a child, he feared and hated his powers:

This is not a view of himself that has improved in adulthood. Arkady still views himself as a monster, that his abilities make him a bad person:

And this is a view he holds even after his time spent on Krakoa where he was able to start turning his life around. He doesn't have to kill to live anymore, and Sage had done a lot to help him improve himself while he lived there and worked as a member of X-Force. Even after all that and her encouragement, the doubt lingers. The self-loathing is still there. I know Arkady is not the only prisoner trapped in Greymalkin right now who struggles with such doubts. Who carries guilt like he does. It's a subconscious view that a lot of mutants have about themselves because society has pretty much told them for their entire lives that they're horrible people because of their powers. That they're all monsters and freaks of nature that need to be killed or locked up. And now, these characters have been put into a place where those fears and doubts about themselves and their place in the world are being indoctrinated into them to be the only thought they're allowed to have about themselves:

This creed that these trustees are forced to recite and believe in is just sickening. Any amount of self-worth that any of them started to get in their lives as of late is being stripped away again in the cruelest possible way. They're being told -- through torture mind you -- that they were born evil. That they're monsters. That they are lesser than humans and lesser than any other mutants because the genetic lottery gave them powers that were a burden and a curse rather than something that can easily be used to benefit others or that would allow them to pass as a normal human like so many of the X-men can.

Which brings this all around to the main point: the X-men. Before this new era even started, I want to point out a few things. The first is that the X-men worked with all of these current prisoners in one form or another while living on Krakoa. They (eventually) gave every one of these characters a chance. Blob was a bartender. Omega Red got cured of his need to kill and became a member of X-Force. Theresa was able to reconcile with Sean and Black Tom and bring their family together. The X-men were able to see these changes and progress made by all of these people. In Omega Red’s case, they even voted on the decision to give him a second chance, with Kurt being a voting member of the Quiet Council who decided to listen to Sage’s argument to have him brought back. They should know that these former villains have been making an effort to improve themelves. The last time they saw any of them, these former villains were all allies, which makes comments like this seem very out of character for someone like Kurt to make:

Kurt should know Arkady is an ally. But yet he's acting like Omega Red is a monster and that nothing he did on Krakoa to improve himself even mattered. Which, again, is something that all of these prisoners are being tortured into believing about themselves. Hearing the X-men hold the same view about you as these horrible guards do is not something that will make a person feel welcomed or loved or help them believe that they can be better than what the world made them into. The trust that Omega Red had started to build on Krakoa with the X-Men is going to start to crumble because of how they are continuing to view him and the plight that all these characters are in.

Which brings me to my next point: just what are the X-men doing? When Krakoa fell, Orchis had mutants under siege. They rounded up mutants in camps to strip them of their powers and torture them. The X-men and Avengers didn't stand for that and fought tooth and nail to get rid of Orchis. They went to war for their kind, for their right to exist. And they beat Orchis. But what did they really end up gaining at the end of it all? Well, if you're the X-men, you got some variation of peace or concessions, getting bases, time to relax and enjoy the world and your victory. Being able to pass for human really helps in that regard. If you weren’t able to pass, however?

You faced violence. Discrimination. Hatred. Society is not kind to mutants who look different. Who are unable to blend in. These were the mutants --villain or not -- who benefited the most from Krakoa. Because they all finally had a place where they could be safe and accepted no matter their looks or abilities. When the X-men finally beat Orchis, they seemed content to leave everything at that and didn't try to reclaim any piece of what they had lost for the sake of those mutant brothers and sisters who were bound to struggle the most without a mutant community to support them.

They unfortunately seemed to just accept that everything was still fine since they themselves weren't personally being bothered by the hatred. But all the while, mutants have started to slip through the cracks without support from the wider mutant community. A community that the X-men are supposed to protect. And this extends beyond characters like Omega Red and the other Greymalkin prisoners, although they are the ones currently being tortured the most. Lifeguard. Chamber. Firestar. These are all characters that have faced a world that hates and fears them without the X-men doing anything to help them. Why haven't the X-men done anything? Because so many of them just gave up and settled for what they have. They had the luxury to be able to do so because they look human. Their powers aren't horrendous abilities that they can't control or that kill people.

Even still, even if they want to take a break, they should all know the fight is not done. They are all well aware of what was done to their former home, the X-Mansion. They know it was turned into a prison. Jubilee scouted it out. Rogue and Scott had phone calls about it. And yet they did nothing. They let it continue to stand, this place which sullies the name of the X-men and their history. This place -- which treats mutants in a similar way to how Orchis treated mutants -- is allowed to continue to grow and thrive even after the X-men and Avengers had just put their foot down and said such places were not going to be tolerated. Now they're tolerating it? Why? There is absolutely no reason to wait. And yet they did. They did absolutely nothing to correct this injustice towards their fellow mutants until one of their own was impacted. Until they themselves finally started to face the same things characters like Omega Red had already been facing for months now. It was only when they were personally threatened that they decided to do anything. Which brings us to the Raid itself.

The Raid... was a mess. A disaster. A series of unfortunate events that didn't have to be. Instead of going into this place, seeing the atrocities committed on the grounds of their first home and feeling a strong urge to eliminate this threat, what did they do? They fought amongst themselves. They argued. They did absolutely nothing to help any of the prisoners. Kurt left Omega Red to rot in his cell. They did nothing to free the trustees nor made any sort of real threats of anger towards the warden for what she was doing to their fellow mutants. Rogue came the closest to saying this place was wrong, but all her concern was devoted to Charles Xavier, the only mutant willingly imprisoned in this place. No concern was given to any of the others at all until it was too late.

And yet, again, this whole thing just seems wrong and runs as an antithesis to what the X-men are, what they stand for, and what they would actually tolerate. A big laser gun should be something they should be able to take care of. The X-men shouldn't be this easily cowed into obedience after everything they recently faced with the fall of Krakoa and how they fought back against Orchis. Thry shouldn't be taking "no" for an answer. They shouldn't allow for this prison to stand. They NEVER should have. And yet, time and time again here, they have failed in their work to actually help their kind, to make the world a better place for mutants. This is not the X-men I fell in love with reading about. This is not the X-men that I know. The X-men should be doing so much better than this. But they're not. They've rolled over and accepted that this is the reality and that they are powerless against a podcaster and her satellite weapon.

This is something the X-men should have never allowed to happen. They should have never allowed things to get this far. And as a result, by doing nothing when they could and SHOULD have been doing something, their enemies were allowed to regroup and begin targeting the most vulnerable members of the mutant community. The X-men failed in their responsibilities and let a place full of cruel and unusual punishment to stand because they weren't the mutants being personally affected by what was happening. And now, so many more have to pay the price for their inaction.

Where does that leave the unfortunate prisoners of this place? At this point, beyond being torn down in mind and body, it's hard to say. Every single one of them does have the right to call the X-men out on their failure, though. They all would be very justified in their anger at being left behind, both after Krakoa fell and here at this prison. In Omega Red’s case, I could very easily see this whole experience souring him on the X-men again and making him very unwilling to trust them again. Because even after everything that these former villains have been trying to do, there's still some part of the X-men that seem to view these unfortunate souls as monsters that deserve to be treated like animals. That they deserve to get beaten, fed rotten food and forced to sleep in wretched cells.

The X-men have failed in their role to protect mutants. They have failed to stand for what is right and failed to help their fellow mutants from being condemned to one of the worst fates a mutant can face: to be weaponized and used like a tool to attack other mutants. The Raid on Greymalkin story arc is a blight on X-men comics and is an example of what not to do when doing a story like this. Characters and their histories cannot be ignored. Petty fights over arbitrary issues should not be taking place when there are SO many higher priorities that need to be taken care of. This story was nothing but disappointing and sours me on the direction Marvel is taking the X-men. There is nothing to look forward to. Like the mutant prisoners who were left behind to be further tortured and devalued, we the readers have been left to a similar fate, wondering when in the world we will finally be freed from this prison that Marvel's writers are putting us in and what we -- and the characters we love -- will even come out on the other side looking like.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[kavehater]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[stringsbasement]

ngl i 100% thought peri would be an antagonist

he's the first fairy in thousands of years, born directly under the lineage of what has to be the most powerful fairy family line in current existence

(cosmo is a von strangle, and also the very reason fairies stopped having babies in the first place. he's incredibly powerful and nobody talks about it for some reason. it's clear peri inherited that destructive potential)

the second he was born, entire fairy species (including his own kin) were out to get him to use his volatile magic for their own selfish goals. he's nearly kidnapped thrice, and almost ends the universe on the same day

the threats keep coming, and he's being dragged to countless adventures that put him at risk. he literally ceases to exist more than once

anyway, i wouldn't be surprised if some form of expectations were placed upon him growing up. maybe not by his family, but he's famous (a teacher described him as such once); in fairy world, he's automatically adored and celebrated by adults and peers alike, which foop antagonizes (and tries to kill) him for

cosmo and wanda would, realistically, of course try to shield him from all this, but no matter what they do, he's inevitably isolated

people either want to use him, put him on a pedestal, or is a universally infamous human godchild who will forget all about him in a matter of years

(cosmo and wanda becoming godparents and learning (choosing) to eventually let go of their kids is one thing, but it can be assumed poof was still a young, underdeveloped child by the time timmy (+chloe, for what it's worth) got his memories wiped

and he sees that timmy's able to live his own happy life without him in it. he lost his brother just like that, and there's nothing he can do despite all his godly powers)

there's so, so many ways he could've gone wrong

thus, my initial thought was that peri was going to be a somewhat petty, "spoiled brat," and him becoming a godparent would be the result of spite or rebellion, which cosmo and wanda would feel entirely responsible for. I HATE MY PARENTS!! yada yada yada

it was a pleasant surprise to see all those clips of them loving each other. and it's not even because i doubted for a second that cosmo and wanda are bad parents, it's just what you usually expect when seeing shows from the 2000s, even if it doesn't make sense

all things considered, i'm very glad they went for the lighthearted silly family trope. not every show needs such conflicts, and showing healthy dynamics are better for kids overall

still, i find it interesting to think about if they'd gone down another route instead. i love me a pathetic cringy villain who tries (fails) to hate the people they love the most

[bixels]

Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.

Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).

Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.

Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.

Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).

AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.

But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s

At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.

[mac-tirs]

the usage of different types of english in elden ring

most human/tarnished NPCs we meet, like rogier, ansbach, and nepheli, use late modern english:

"a sorcerer, as you might have guessed. i'm looking for a little something, here in the castle. when i'm not hotfooting it from the troops, that is." - rogier, first meeting "general radahn. a pleasure to see you, after all this time. but those remains do not belong to you." - ansbach, upon summon for PCR

but older demigods like messmer, ranni, and morgott use early modern english:

"thou'rt tarnished, it seemeth. mother, wouldst thou truly lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light? yet… my purpose standeth unchanged." - messmer, pre-battle cutscene "thou needst not indulge them unduly, but they too wish to appraise thy worth. it hath been a passing long time since a newcomer entered my service, after all." - ranni, after agreeing to serve her

then there are the younger demigods, like miquella, malenia, and potentially melina, who use a later variant of modern english, similar to the tarnished NPCs we speak to:

"if we honour our part of the vow, promise me you'll be my consort. i'll make the world a gentler place." - miquella, post-PCR cutscene "the scarlet bloom flowers once more. you will witness true horror. now, rot!" - malenia, phase 2 transition cutscene

finally, the hornsent NPCs like the hornsent, hornsent grandam, and the hornsent spirits such as the one outside the whipping hut, who use late middle english similar to the english found in shakespeare's sonnets:

"fie, another? ... then, as that woman would surely say, we are in our purposes well aligned. but understand. your kind are not forgiven. the erdtree is my people's enemy. by marika long betray'd, set aflame." - hornsent, first meeting "all your resentment lingers yet... the raw stuff from which i shall surely forge a curse. upon the dastard messmer's head. upon marika's children each and all." - scorched ruins hornsent spirit

i find it interesting how different the usage of english is in the game, and i feel that it can be a hint on how to properly date an individual's occupation in the lands between/land of shadow. the hornsent, being a people much older than many in the lands between, use the most archaic version of english, while the tarnished and younger demigods use a form of english more closely related to our own in the current period. older demigods (and marika herself, as heard from melina's recounts of marika's spoken echoes) use a form of english more closely related to the period of transition from middle english to early modern english.

additionally, another interesting thing to me: mohg is almost certainly nearly the same age as morgott (since they're referred to as twins), yet he speaks a little differently compared to morgott:

"tarnished, thou'rt but a fool." - morgott, post-battle dialogue "dearest miquella. you must abide alone a while." - mohg, pre-battle cutscene

this makes me wonder if it's possible that, assuming that miquella's verbiage is indicative of his younger age in comparison to the older demigods (aka the demigods born before the marika/radagon union), miquella's charm altered mohg's perception enough to also alter his manner of speaking and carrying himself in some way. if his pursuit of finery (dressing in embroidered robes and handling himself with poise, juxtaposing his bestial growls and strength) was mainly done in an effort to fit into miquella's ideal of a consort. of course, mohg could just be as vain as he seems to be all on his own accord, but i find that it's interesting to entertain the idea that even his current state of being was due to miquella's charm.

i'd love to hear what others think about this. i'm not very learned when it comes to english (it's not really my first language), but i find this all very cool to think about.

[harmoonix]

west side

Astrology Observations

Do you ever have a hard time to accept some planets or signs in your birth chart? Personally i have a hard time to accept my scorpio placements because they are not so easy to have in ones chart

Venus in the 1H, 5H and the 11H are the most outgoing placements for Venus! Social, creative, charming! they got all the plate

Moon aspecting Mercury in good aspects can be liked for their personality and the vibe they give to others

A Fire rising in your mars persona chart can indicate a desirable person, or someone people love to have to around

Lilith in the 2H, 6H, 10H can often charm people with their bossy atittude, they have a specific earthy energy

People with LIlith In air signs can often use dirty words while they are talking and sometimes dirty words are in their everyday dictionary

Venusian Moons (Libra and Taurus Moon) can have a pleasing voice and personality, often they can have a seducing aura

Aries Risings tend to have extremely beautiful relationships thanks to their 7H Libra, is honestly such a beautiful energy

Neptune aspecting ascendant natives can not always see their worth! They are very worthy people but tend to fall under certain stereotypes which can bring them down

Leo Lilith and Leo Rising both need to recieve attention in order to feel loved. They need to be feel seen to feel like they are worthy for you

If someone has their mercury in the same sign as your venus, you can often get compliments from them!! or to be praised by them

I feel like people with a taurus rising dont always realise their beauty, they are so modest and nice when people appreciate their beauty

People who have 11H placements often have the desire to change the world somehow or to make the world in a better place

Chiron in Scorpio or in the 8H can talk about how deeply the natives needs are, they can become needy of certain things or people

You can always tell the majority of zodiac signs someone can have in their chart based on the season they are born, for example people born in spring will mostly have planets in aries and taurus and sometimes even gemini, someone born in winter can mostly have lots of planets in sagitarrius pisces aquarius and so on

Aries Venus/mars and lilith are always full of energy! they can struggle with being stubborn though because when have a plan or an idea, they have to finish it

People with mars in libra, cancer and virgo can be the submissive ones in a relationship but without that toxic "dominant and submissive" thing, is just their energy to not rule but to help the ruler

People with an earth sign in their 8H love intimacy and in the same time will keep it priviate from others, usually those people who are shy to others but the most sexual beasts to their partners

Gemini rules over the hands/nails, gemini placements can have really gorgeous hands and nails naturally

If you have your moon between 0 and 9 degrees , your moon has a new energy which can indicate that is more active, more sensitive, more curious, they are little explorers from a young age

I think i said this more times in my observations but if you have Pisces or Libra placements, do not start a relationship until you dont learn how to love yourself first, because you can end up hurt,

People with Saturn in Libra or the 7H can actually become more mature while in a relationship, is like their partners can open their eyes and teach them how to be more mature

i started to love my 7h Saturn honestly, i have it at 0 degrees in my siedereal chart and is honestly an indictor that i dont have to rush love relationships at all. my mom tells this everytime, love will find a way in your life when you least expect it

Aquarius and Capricorn Moons in my opinion are so loyal they will keep everything private but still being loyal and loving to you, they are honestly so sweet

Usually mercury in fire signs can be a bit harsh in love relationships, they have a harsh humour which not everyone can understand, deep dark humour jokes

If is something im not sure if is accurate about astrology and birth chart is probably those asteroids that are related with genitals.. like you cant tell about someones genitals just by looking at some asteroids

Aquarius and Scorpio in the 4H, 12H house can talk about a deep wound connected with your family or close relatives, if someone hurt you from your family you can easily cut them off

People with pluto or saturn aspecting south node can indicate having a dark past in the current and past lives

[littleprinceabdullah]

"Born into Hope Amidst Destruction: Abdullah's Journey from Gaza"

Hello, I am little prince Abdullah, and I am a six-month-old baby from Gaza. I was born into extremely difficult circumstances amidst war and destruction. Let me tell you my story from the beginning.

Daddy, Mahmoud, is a young dentist, 25 years old. Mom, Abeer, is also a dentist, and they were eagerly awaiting my arrival (their little prince as they called me), dreaming of a bright future for me.

My parents got married and moved into a new home, spending two joyful months there before everything changed drastically on October 7, 2023, when the war in Gaza began. Our home, and the clinic were all destroyed in an instant. They had to flee with only a few clothes, having nowhere else to go. The place that was supposed to be filled with love and laughter turned into rubble and ash.

Mom endured her pregnancy amidst the war, without enough food, water, or medicine. As I grew inside her, I could feel the stress and fear that surrounded us. Mom often went without proper nourishment, sacrificing her own well-being to ensure that I had a chance to come into this world. Every night, she would cradle her belly, whispering prayers and promises of a better life, even as bombs fell around us. She dreamed of holding me in a safe place, free from the horrors of war, where I could grow up surrounded by love and peace.

Despite the chaos, dad and mom clung to the hope that I would be a symbol of a brighter future. They imagined my first smile, my first tooth, my first steps, my first words, and the joy of seeing me grow up in a home filled with laughter. But the reality was far from those dreams. Mom faced countless sleepless nights, worrying if she could bring me safely into a world that seemed determined to tear us apart.

When the time came for me to be born (6th, Apr.2024), there were no hospitals with clean beds, no doctors ready to ensure my safe arrival. My parents faced this moment with courage and a deep, unyielding love, praying that I would be born healthy despite the dire conditions. Each day inside my mom's womb, I felt her love and fear. I heard her heart beat fast when explosions echoed nearby, and I felt her tears when she thought about the uncertain future we faced. She whispered to me that I was her miracle, her reason to keep fighting, and she promised to do everything in her power to give me a life worth living.

Now that I am six months old, my parents continue to face immense challenges. I have spent my first six months of life in a world of uncertainty and hardship. There are days when my parents struggle to find enough food and clean water for us. They do their best to keep me safe and healthy, but the lack of proper medical care and basic necessities makes every day a battle.

My parents' love and determination are unwavering. They look at me with a mix of love and desperation, knowing they are unable to provide the comfort and security every baby deserves. Each day is a struggle for survival, and the joy of my birth is constantly overshadowed by fear and uncertainty. They dream of a world where I can play safely, have a warm bed to sleep in, and grow up healthy and happy. Instead, they face the harsh reality of war, where every moment is filled with anxiety and the haunting thought of what tomorrow might bring. Their only wish is to see me smile, free from the burdens that weigh so heavily on their hearts.

Here is daddy's account telling his own story: @mah99moud

The pressures and burdens on our family continue to grow, so my parents decided to turn to the GoFundMe platform, seeking help from kind-hearted people around the world.

Your generosity can turn our darkest days into a beacon of hope. Please consider helping us rebuild our lives and give me a chance to experience the childhood every child deserves, and help my parents rebuild their lives. Please, help us restore hope for a better tomorrow and give me a chance to grow up in a world where dreams are possible, not destroyed. Every donation, no matter how small, will make a significant difference in our lives.

Thank you for your kindness and generosity.

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

[acid-ixx]

gets fucking stabbed by damian and my last breath still be like "it's not his fault ! he is ten and was raised to be murderous since he was born ! kid entered a household where everyone ignores my existence, i don't blame him for assuming that to be the norm and acting evil to me so that he assimilates to his new environment ! bro literally went through the worst all his life so of course the way he expresses himself is harmful to others !"

and then i get stabbed again lol

— masterlist !

OH MY GOD PLEASE 😭 the gaslighting yourself is real, i'm telling you.

unfortunately, the reader's toxic mindset of justifying everything your family does is a common scenario for every time one of them fucks up; only in the past though. the present chapters will have you slowly realize just nothing really is ever your fault. that you've never once been in the blame for the actions of your youngest brother.

but right now, i want to focus on why you just seem to let damian go about his own crazy path of targeting you. and it's either it's because you have nothing, nobody else to fight back with you, or it's purely because you allow him to.

to destroy you, to make you suffer, to make you learn that you have no place, or standing in the family. and if you do have a place, it is at the rock bottom.

this is what damian is taught: the weak should be eliminated before they fester into some type of unnecessary cancer.

you're weak, when he first saw you, when you first approached him with your tail tucked behind your legs and an invitation to hang out together with the scent of cookies wafting in the air— he knows that it is you who will make him weak.

you give him temptations to be a child, he's raised to fight against it. he ignores the unwelcomed feeling of wamth that blooms in his chest, those are feelings that gets you killed.

so it's how the story goes: he brings his sword up to your neck, and sways his hands swift enough to make a small cut to ensure that the first thing you associate him with is fear. and for someone vulnerable like you, it doesn't take much before you quickly submit to the prospect of your place beneath a trained assassin like him.

he ignores the sudden pang of his heart and the aching, gnawing dread that chews at his mind at the memory of your widening eyes and the wobble in your steps.

it's already damaging enough to have the youngest be introduced and immediately accepted into the family, but it's worse when he's significantly younger than you, a boy nearly half your age; someone you've always wanted to have, to care for, to help raise and cherish... despises you from the start, before you two even formed a connection.

someone you once called your younger brother, now became an enemy in opposing lines in a place called home.

what would've been fine-tuned jealousy towards him because he was given everything in a silver platter turned into shame that you couldn't even face him, not right after he threatened to kill you, no... and especially not after you've convinced yourself that if you couldn't even prove your worth for a young boy like him, then you really have nothing good to offer.

you give him the autonomy to think it's alright, that due to his upbringing, alongside your naive brain always justifying that your other siblings are right, and you are in the wrong— he was given every opportunity to torment you when you even go as far as being in the same room as him.

and i have my receipts on why you're just like that; all in the grace of low self-worth and self-esteem. past you reasons out that it's because it's always your fault.

you couldn't even find a way to save your mother, you couldn't even establish your place in the manor, you couldn't comfort bruce when he was still not over jason, what more could you be when all you see damian as is a young, broken child like you? that behind that veil of threats and weapons ready to attack you, is someone you knew could've been different, if he was raised right...

if he'd given you a chance to help nurture the softer, more humane part of him.

you've always wanted a younger sibling, not only from back when you were just with your mother, but also when you were introduced to the manor. because not only did it mean that you'll know how your mother felt when she raised you, but because you thought you'd have somebody by your side throughout the silent torment you've went through.

and when you're graced with one, who doesn't even consider you his older sibling; you let it be.

you let him be himself.

damian wayne, demon's granson, the son of the bat.

so many titles he's called, but never one where he's your younger brother.

it doesn't help that you justify his past, because the man you idolize, dick, does so too whenever you try to complain. his excuses are never out of malicious intent to have you suffer further— it's just that he never once actually considered you as important enough to bat an eye on, like how the rest of them treat you.

because you know that even dick has his limit towards the youngest member of the family; he just never reaches it when it comes to you.

so if you have a person allow another to act terribly towards you, but have another, a friend or family, who teaches you that it's not right, who fights by your side; it wouldn't take long for you to also learn how to defend yourself then. you'll gain confidence that you're at least not alone, that your actions are completely valid.

... but if you have an entire family that couldn't even scold the boy for leaving a scar on your neck, who brushes his mean comments about you aside, who isolates you even further with malicious words that you know becomes crueler when targeted at you—

then you have no basis for what is right, and what is wrong.

and that makes your authority, your trust in yourself dwindle like your already crumbling relationship with all the others the further you try to fight back.

that's when you learn what it's like to give up, all over again. if you accept his vidictive insults, if you know your place to turn back if you see him in the same room, if you knew from the start that sometimes trying doesn't equate to succeeding; then it'll at least numb the pain that comes after.

for the entirety of your life from when damian was introduced, that was how you coped—

but your life after the manor, after damian matures and learns softness, about empathy (that he's buried long ago during his training from when he was all but a toddler) on your situation; reading your journal entries because he still felt entitled to due to some hidden, twisted trait of possessiveness... that's an entirely different story.

would you still be as understanding as you were back in the past towards him? would you still force yourself to love the demon you saw as just a little boy? or would damian finally understand that it's too late to turn back time, to correct all his mistakes?

either way, if you were capable enough to change (at least, in his eyes), becoming an independent person (you think, huh? your place is at the manor), then maybe you could give him a chance too, to fix your relationship and build a bridge to an even stronger one.

one where you could finally baby him, like what you've desired. one where he could feel vulnerable, when he learned that it's valid to feel weak— it cuts back to the previous points: you make him weak.

and when he's out to find you after going through every single diary, every entry, after deducing that there's still a small spark in your that'll forgive him if he tries; he refuses give up any sooner if it meant replicating the same warmth he felt when he stood by your presence.

so... you wouldn't want to leave your youngest brother waiting for you, don't you?

after all, it's just like what your entries told him, right? this is what you always wanted, right?

a/n: everyone is entitled to their own feelings about how i portray damian and mc's relationship!!! i love how all of you guys have different conflicting reactions to this. it's all so complex for me, how damian sees you as someone who's weak and makes him weak (he's just a stubborn little guy), and you, who sees yourself in damian, alongside the added desire to just have someone to care for (because you want to so badly honor your mother's memory), and that person also caring for you is ARGH!!?!

i apologize for my long rambles (if anyone wants me to cut back on posts like this, just tell me), i'm sure everyone is anticipating chapter 5 and possibly (soon) chapter 6 (since the drafts, not the final work is becoming too long). but right now, all i could provide are my depictions of the reader's relationship with every member of the family. i love to churn scenarios where it feels like you're actually part of the family so i'm actually manipulating all of you guys to become attached to the characters too, just to add an extra layer of angst, hehe...

[seresinhangmanjake]

I love all your Feyd works! Thank you.

My request is regrding a sensitive topic. So if it makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free not to write it.

Reader has arranged marriage with Feyd. After a few years they all discover (including her) that she has fertility issues and has trouble getting pregnant so the Baron wants them to divorce. Wife is becoming hopeless. But Feyd who’s utterly in love and devoted to his wife will not have it and pledges loyalty to her.

Worth To Him

Notes/Warnings: obviously this is about fertility problems. It is a sensitive topic. If this bothers you, please do not read. Mention of period sex.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Sobs wrack your body. One after another after another that keeps your breaths shallow and ragged. Tears coat your lashes, weighing them down. You gave up trying to see clearly through them an hour ago and let yourself get lost in the haze of blindness.

You can’t stop it. You haven’t been able to stop for days. You clutched your pillow like a lifeline, crying into the plush material in a way you haven’t since you were a child. You’ve really proven yourself useless now. You officially have nothing to offer this planet, and the Baron has made that well-known. But what else can you expect when you are incapable of doing the things that are expected of you? How can you expect not to lose the one thing you care about if you cannot give him what he needs?

“If you cannot provide him an heir, you are worth nothing” is what the Baron declared in front of all that exists of his court.

Nothing—the word bounced around the walls of your skull before it finally sank in. You’ve never been nothing until now. You’ve always held some sort of value in some manner or other, even if that manner is in being a political pawn. But no. Here, now, you’re nothing to these people.

At first, you pleaded with him, nearly fell to your hands and knees and told him you’d only been trying for a few months. A few months barely qualifies as adequate time. On your home planet, medical intervention is not discussed until the couple has gone a year with no success. But you’re not on your home planet; there is no medical intervention, and all the Baron said in response was: A few months is too long. You will divorce in a week's time.

Feyd doesn’t know. For the last five days, he’s been on Arrakis, and it was on the third day of his absence that you once again woke to stained sheets. He’ll be disappointed in you, just like the Baron, just like the people of Giedi Prime, just like your parents who agreed to marry you to Feyd for the sake of an alliance that will soon be broken. 

When he returns, they’ll tell him, and he’ll nod with acceptance because that is what he does under order, and you’ll be shipped off. You’ll never see him again. He’ll remarry. He’ll become a father to a child by a woman who is not you. He’ll raise what the people want. He’ll do them proud.

You wonder if he’ll miss you as you will miss him. Will he ever think of you and wish you were in her place? Will he look at the children she’s borne him and wonder what your children would have looked like had you the chance to have them? Will he see their hair and imagine your locks flowing down to their little shoulders? If he peers into their eyes, will he prefer them a shade to match yours instead of hers? You wonder if he’ll be filled with sorrow at what could have been. 

Selfish to think it. There’s no reason to assume he will not enjoy the pleasure his new wife will offer. Neither are you fair in hoping that when he’s inside of her, making the children the Baron demands, he will be thinking of you. 

You cry harder. Your pillow will take ages to dry. Perhaps you’ll move on to his. Soak in the scent of him before you’re ripped away from him and returned to what will be considered by many the end of your life. No other Lord, or future Lord, will take you, not after being owned by a Harkonnen—tainted meat, as they say. You’ll be a burden on your family, an embarrassment to your House’s people, a waste of valuable blood. 

—

Touch stirs you: a soft brush of fingertips over your tear-stained cheek, a thumb grazing over your parted mouth. 

Then a voice. “Wake up.” Your groan of resistance is cut short by a press of lips against yours. A quick peck and then another. “Wake up,” it says, and then one more kiss, much longer this time, that you return before bothering to open your eyes. Your arms wrap around a familiar neck. A tongue gently glides along yours. And then it’s gone. Stolen from you. You want it back. 

Your eyes snap open. At the sight of him sitting beside you, you gasp, quickly scrambling onto his lap. He holds you without question or word. He holds you close to him. You hold him like you never will again. 

Leaning into his body, you push him down onto the mattress and he lands on his back with a chuckle. Your legs straddle his hips, your weight resting comfortably on top of his, and with his hand in your hair, he pulls you back into a kiss. Gentle at first, a caress, then harder, needier, greedier. He could bruise you if he wanted, leave his mark, and you invite him to. Something to take back home with you—a bruising kiss. You hope it hurts. You hope you internally bleed and purple blooms around your mouth. You hope it never fades and you wear the reminder of him for the rest of your life.

His lips part. His tongue is back in your mouth, asking for yours. You savor the slick warmth, knowing you’ll never again be kissed like this. To be honest, you never thought you would be kissed like this at all. You didn’t know kisses like this existed. If someone had told you a year ago that this man would be kissing you this way, with a passion you wouldn’t have dreamed him capable of releasing, you’d have laughed them out of the room. 

He unlocks your mouths for a breath and gifts you a smile. Rare. Almost out of place on his face. The first one you received was five months into your marriage, and you’ve never gotten used to them. 

“I missed you,” he says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

You want to tell him how you’ve missed him, how painful it’s been without him by your side, but you don’t know that you can speak the words, not without every emotion you’ve felt over the last few days bubbling to the surface and overpowering your joy at seeing him—the last time you’ll greet him upon his return before you’re gone. 

He frowns. “You didn’t miss me?” he asks, and since you can’t deny him a damn thing, you gather the will to say: “Of course I did,” but your throat catches midway through. You can’t look at him. He allows it for a few seconds, giving you a chance to meet his stare on your own, but when you don’t, his fingers on your chin turn your face back to his so you can no longer avoid the prying blue shade of his irises. 

“What is it?” he says.

“I know he told you.” There’s a brief pause before your husband hums in acknowledgment. Fingertips trace up and down your spine over the thin material of your nightgown. “The doctor was ordered to examine me after I bled. He’s not sure I’m able to give you a baby. And the Baron–”

“My uncle does not make my decisions for me,” he declares, and you’re so stunned by the defiance that it takes you a moment to collect yourself. 

“Feyd, do you not understand? I don’t know if I can do it,” you tell him. “My body is–”

“Perfect,” he interrupts. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine. You will never belong to another man, nor will I belong to another woman.” 

“Neither of us has a choice.”

“You believe so?”

Your brow pinches, mouth setting in a line. If he’s playing a game, you’re not enjoying it. “As if you aren’t aware of who has the power here.”

“I am aware,” he says. “But Rabban is dead. I’m all that’s left of our line. If he wants his heir, then I’m keeping my wife.”

He speaks with such certainty that the charge of excitement you get whenever you watch him take command of his armies seeps into you, giddily wiggling all of your little nerve endings. But the feeling fades as fast as it came. It changes nothing. Whether or not he defies his uncle does not alter your circumstances. 

You sigh. “But what of your heir?”

“We’ll keep trying,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere. I'm too attached. He doesn’t get to marry me to a woman like you and then take you away.”

“A woman like me, who might not be able to give you what you need,” you say. “Why aren’t you bothered?”

“Having my heir is not where your worth lies to me. If we cannot have a baby, we will take someone else's,” he tells you without snicker or grin. His fingers fist into the material of your nightgown. “Now take this off. I want my wife.”

“I am still bleeding.”

He scoffs. “When have I ever cared?”

[anemoiashifts]

what to do if you’ve been trying to shift since 2020.

if you haven’t shifted yet & you’ve been here since 2020 or for a long period of time, waking up in your bed the following morning after a method & your doubting that shifting isn’t real then that’s simply not true. you are not doubting in shifting, you are doubting in yourself. if you doubted in the belief of shifting or subliminals or working towards a goal, you would have walked away from it a long time ago. you wouldn’t still be here if it was really all for nothing. you still have hope. there is something keeping you here.

you are looking for exterior validation that you shifted & that’s normal. it’s human to look around for confirmation for our manifestations. it’s hard to believe in something we cannot see. what you have to do is recognize that you are the creator of everything you have ever achieved, done & acquired in your life. because you are waiting until you are in your desired reality to recognize your progress, you are giving your “failures” attention.

when we give our failures attention & dwell on what we lack & what we want, we start to see it more. i mentioned this a while back in one of my very first posts but i really wanted a volkswagon beetle & i started seeing them everywhere. this is because your subconscious is showing you what you desire. the cars (your desired reality & manifestations) were always there, the issue is you don’t believe they are yours yet. shifting is a success other people have achieved. not you.

so what’s the issue ? how do we fix this ?

let go of wanting to shift. why ? because you have it. people who have things already don’t sit around & say “i want a million dollars in my bank account” because they already have a million dollars in their bank account.

instead of focusing on what you don’t have, see what you do have. you were born into a life where shifting was brought to your attention. a lot of people don’t even know what shifting is & half of the people that do know what it scoff at it & don’t ever try. be grateful that you are not letting yourself become one of those people. the fact you are trying & attempting this is a testament to you bettering your life & by extension bettering yourself. if you look at your shifting journey, what is working for you ? what methods do you like ? recognize that the universe may be trying to help you out by delaying you being in your desired reality.

people seem to not like to acknowledge the concept of divine timing & how important it can be. there is a time & place for everything we do. between when you first discovered shifting to now, you would have missed out on so many lessons & experiences that are needed for growth. majority of us look at our first script & cringe. if your someone who scripts, reflect on how many’s scripts you had. did you look at how much your desires & maturity changed through those ? the universe — god, your spirit guides, whatever higher power you believe in — may be protecting you. there could be something in your script that you could not handle, there could be a toxic relationship that you may have suffered from if you had shifted successfully & it would’ve done more harm then good.

shifting will always be there; no matter your age, what you go through. you have all of eternity to figure it out. there is no time limit. nothing is worth rushing into. if you want something don’t well, take the time to do it correctly. while there is no “correct way” to shift take a look at yourself. are you nurturing yourself ? are you depressed ? are you in a stable headspace ? the only thing you have is this moment. the moment you are reading this on tumblr or tiktok, this is the only point you have control over. are you going to scroll away ? have you already gave up on reading this long of a post ? are you thinking about the past & your past shifting attempts or mistakes ? why are you thinking about them if they have nothing to do with your future ? if you know you will shift or manifest a job or money or whatever it may be — why are you giving something attention that goes against that ?

what’s the conclusion ?

look at what you have & how you’re still here. start small, recognize that this post came to you for a reason. recognize that this is something you manifested based on content you’ve put energy towards. this post is proof that you are capable of manifesting shifting, even if it isn’t your desired reality directly.

also, this reality is a desired reality. maybe not in the same way as another desired reality you may have but you have manifested plenty in this reality & that’s what shifting is. if you think you haven’t, guess again, because I’m sure there’s one thing you can find that you truly believed in & it became physical right before your eyes.

[vinjinssunglasses]

could you write something about Yamazaki shingen can be anything

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♯┆character yamazaki shingen

♯┆summary you are somi park, the woman who conceived. Strangely, you and Shingen get closer?

���┆cw oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, squirting, belly bulge, slight size kink (?)

♯┆w/c 4.4k

♯┆a/n first smut fic, i hope you guys enjoy!! <3 also I do not condone somi park’s actions, nor is anything in this fanfiction canon. none of this is an excuse for her actions ^-^

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The day you gave birth, you were filled with a mix of joy and emptiness. That warm feeling of joy wasn’t for yourself, it was for your own clan. Everyone cheered for you, so you should feel content too, right? Yet all you wanted to do was cry, let yourself loose with tears, hands soaking wet and makeup dripping. That child, the one who was too unworthy to bare the Yamazaki surname, was yours. And you hated it.

It reminded you of the day and nights of endless moaning from your parents, reminding over and over that you are one of the ten women to try to conceive that man’s child. Intercourse is only for those who are inlove, you firmly believe and stuck to your whole life. However there you were, taking in the ruthless thrusts of his man. His hands rest a firm grip on your hips, while his cock mercilessly spreads your hole. Yamazaki was indifferent; keeping his usual stern attitude and quietness, not sparing a sound.

It’s for your family, it’s for your clan. Those dreadful words ran through your mind endlessly. It felt like your perception of love and sex were being ripped to shreds right in front of your eyes. As soon as he finished, the room was dead silent. Not a word or a sound, other than him flipping the blanket over himself. Getting up to clean up, you only sighed as you felt it running down your leg. The mirror showed the pathetic sight of tears running down your face again. And there, the bathroom floor, you sat there curled into a ball, letting the tears run down your red cheeks while you silenced your own woeful cries.

Upon the announcement that you had conceived, you didn’t know what to feel. Relief, knowing you want to have to betray your own beliefs like that again? Or grief, knowing that the baby in your stomach could be deemed useless, and all your efforts to keep your mental state together has been futile? Everybody cheered and congratulated you nonetheless. If only somebody even cared.

That son of yours. Every time clan members reminded you, murder ran through your mind. However you were only allowed to smile and thank them. None of the idiots spared a second thought about how you felt, nor did they even ask.

‘THE HOPE OF YAMAZAKI’

As soon as that forsaken child was born, everyone seemed to take their judging eyes off of you, and onto that mistake. It was the birth of a being that was fuelled with all your grievances. All your hatred shifted onto that child, the one who was worthless enough to take up your last name, Park. Pitch black eyes and a tiny body that giggled when played with. He couldn’t even say ‘mama’, and his mere existence was worth more than yours.

The only ones by your side was the other nine women who also slept with that beast. You all made jokes to lighten the mood, yet the lingering feeling of ‘it’s all your fault’ lay deep inside your hearts. None of them congratulated you on that child, they all experienced similar to what you have. It felt as if they were your only safe space throughout this whole home.

If you were going to live here, you figured you may aswell call it home. Nothing about this place felt like home to you. It was your place of endless suffering, that felt like you were paying the price for your sins.

The first day you had to take your punishment, was the day you were scheduled to sleep with him. Everytime you even think of your last digit, you remember your trembling hand against the knife that pointed at your helpless finger.

Yubitsume, where severing a finger signifies an apology and loyalty to the clan. All of you trembled with sweat when holding that blade. Terrified gazes exchanged, you had to go through with the yakuza tradition. The reason was simple — the desire for his seed. All of you were considered lowlifes, therefore you weren’t allowed to express your opinion. As a result of these actions that were considered sins, the blood splattered over the tissues provided.

Afterwards, you were responsible for his daily tasks: bathing, cleaning, etc. It was an awkward silence, though you weren’t expecting much since he was never a speaker. Dark eyes rested on your curves as you went for a towel, in his eyes you were beautiful. The reincarnation of Aphrodite. While he would never let the words flow off his tongue, you noticed the way Shingen’s gaze rested on you for longer than it should. Though he only sat there, otherwise resting his gaze on the bathroom tiles while you scrubbed.

════════════════════════

You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. Gun was only young, unbeknownst of what was to happen. Born by unluckiness to serve the clan against his own will. It’ll be the only thing he knows from now on. To be a killing machine, just like his father, ‘Machine Gun’. To treat him like that, you felt terrible; absolutely ashamed.

Stopping him from having the childhood he was meant to, playing kendama with the friends he made, maybe you were part of the blame. You didn’t want to, but the vice-president presence looms over your shoulder, threatening that if you do not comply; it won’t go well. It’s not the child’s fault, he didn’t deserve any of this. If you had it your way, you’d him play kendama for as long as he pleased; never force him to fight. Still, you weren’t worth a dime to these people, therefore you were forced to your pesky mouth shut.

.

It’s strange. The contact with you two has always been the same — for the traditions of the Yamazaki clan. Then why does the air between you two feel a little lighter? It was odd enough being so casually naked around each other, even though you’ve already seen the other like this.

“How was your day?” Shingen muttered under his breath, and you paused in shock. The room fell silent as you stopped spreading the soap over his body. No, he’s not the type of guy to spare a moment of care for another. Ruthless, unforgiving and selfish is his nature; he tears his opponents limb by limb, not slowing them to spare a breath before they meet their demise. A man like Shingen doesn’t bother caring for his underlings, as they’re under him for one reason and one reason only: they’re weak, unable to reach his level.

Then why..?

“It.. It was okay.” You responded, mindlessly continuing with the task at hand. The room fell silent again, as per usual. It was a nerving stillness, one that has your heart racing. It was softer, less rough like his calloused, scarred skin, a result of all the treacheries he’s gone through. Shingen raises his brow as he studied his hands. You’d just realised — you had been staring at his hands for too long, and he had noticed.

“What is it?” Shingen spoke in a low tone as he inspected all the scars, callouses and rough texture of his hands, they were simply huge. One handshake could snap your wrist in two, not to mention the once soft knuckles that had hardened from the continuous strain from punching. The long, thick fingers which felt like rough sandpaper along his own skin, he had already gotten used to the sensation. So when your unfamiliarly soft hands run along his back, it successfully soothes him. Unlike his, your hands are slender and soft, with well-kept nails that are moisturised often to keep their ‘femininity’.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” You clear your throat, proceeding to grab the shower head. Even when you suddenly splashed water over his body, he never flinched, no matter the temperature. Most times you could never tell if the water was too hot, as he would just sit there in silence.

The next few days weren’t any better. When you were simply cleaning the house, he’ll take a seat near you, sipping at tea while minding his own business. When you moved rooms, he’d do the same, following along and silently observing. Occasionally he’d ask you questions, but that’s as far as conservations went. At first, you tried to ignore him, pretending his presence didn’t bother you and focusing on your work. But over time, the heavy silence between the two of you became more and more unbearable. Shingen’s eyes would follow your every move, his gaze felt heavy, as if he wanted something, yet he never spoke.

One afternoon, as you dusted the walls, you finally had enough. You turned around, forcing the words out of your throat in an attempt to find out what you really wanted to know.

“Is something the matter? These past couple days, you have been following me around.” Your hands become sweatier and you could barely maintain eye contact. Shingen withdrew the cup from his hand, resting it on the table before gazing right into your anxious eyes. He was surprised by your sudden outburst, yet he maintained his neutral exterior.

“Is it bothering you?” He simply spoke, waiting for your reply. Unsure of how to answer, you hesitated — one wrong word and he could snap you in half if he wanted to. But did it bother you? Perhaps at first, however it’s a feeling you can’t put your finger on. It was intrusive, but it left you curious. Why was he there? Is he hoping to see, or hear something?

“No…” You muttered, letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you had been holding. His eyes lingered in you for a moment longer than it should’ve, leaving you with a shiver running down your spine. Expression unreadable, as if he was weighing your answer. You shifted uneasily, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your clothes, trying to maintain your composure under the scrutiny of his deep gaze.

“I see.” He spoke, voice low like a well-tuned instrument. It was as if he learnt something from your hesitation. Unsure of what to think, you swallowed trying to understand his body language, yet it proved futile. You psychically can’t understand a man like him. What is even thinking right now? The air is thick, filled with words you wish you could say.

“Well, if you need anything..” your voice trailed off awkwardly, and he nodded as to acknowledge your attempt at conversation before turning his attention back to his cup of tea. You returned to your work, yet the question still gnawed at you. Everytime you moved, you could feel his unwavering gaze on the back of your neck.

“Why me?” The question slipped out of your mouth without thinking, and you started to silently panic. Turning back to face him, he simply looked down at his reflected expression from the ripples of the liquid. Now that it was in the open, it was too late to take it back. For a moment, Shingen didn’t answer. No matter how much you squinted to see a pinch of emotion, you couldn’t see past the barrier between the mask he wore and his raw emotions. Angry, sad, disdained — you couldn’t tell. It was like staring at a stone wall, unmovable and devoid of emotion. To your surprise, you notice his lips curve into a frown. Did you perhaps do something wrong?

After what felt like ages, he spared a few words. “You interest me.”

‘You interest me?’ Your breath caught in your throat. His words hung in the air between you, heavy with a meaning you can’t grasp. You tried to search his face for even a tiny hint, yet he remained unreadable, as always. Before anything else could be said, he stood and left with the room. The only thing you could do was watch him. He didn’t even look back, leaving you with the echo of his strange words replaying through your mind.

The following week, he personally invited you into his chambers. A cold shiver ran down your spine when he suddenly asked you to meet in his room that night. While you were cleaning the dishes, he quietly entered the room unbeknown to you. Suddenly speaking in a low tone, you flinched and raised your head to look at him. Those same, cold and dark eyes gazed down at you.

“Come to my room, tonight.” Simple, and sweet. Usually he’d keep a distance from his underlings, yet he was close enough that his arms brush yours. You dropped the sponge and took a moment to process the situation — his room? Tonight? What?

“Is there a reason?” You felt compelled to ask. What could he possibly be thinking? He’s unreadable, and you struggle to understand him.

“No.” Leaving no room for anymore questions, he turned around and left. Standing there, puzzled, you could once again only watch him walk away as you were forced to continue your task.

That night, the clock struck ten and you had just finished washing up. You got changed and put your old clothing into the laundry. It was bothering you, what was he doing to do? Did your parents do something outlandish again? The whole thought of it left you pacing around the hallways wondering if you should just say you forgot. But then you’d be going against his order, and who knows what your clan will shame you for now? Sighing, you took the chance and knocked at the door.

“Oyabun.” You called out, and he opened the door. He let you inside, and you took a seat on the bed where he sat beside you. The quiet of his chambers felt oppressive, the air thick with words unspoken. You shifted a little and fidgeted with your hands as your mind spun with questions. Were you over thinking? The silence stretched between you, his presence looming next to you, quiet and unyielding. You tried to shut these thoughts out, but you could only focus on how close he was sat, his body heat radiating against yours in the lamps dim light.

You cleared your throat. Hesitating, the question you’d been holding back forcing its way out. “… What did you mean by that?”

Shingen shifted his gaze from your fidgeting fingers to your jumbled expression that could barely maintain eye contact. “The other day, where you said..”

Did you say too much? You paused and instantly regretted saying anything.

For a moment that felt like ages, he didn’t say a word. You could feel his gaze on you, but he didn’t make a move to speak. Anxiety coiled in your chest, and just as you were about to apologise for saying anything in the first place…

“You think too much.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you pulled your head up to looked at him. For once, he showed an emotion you could make out — troubled. His brows creased with worry, lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, struggling to look you in the eye. “You..” Shingen paused, as if carefully choosing his choice of words. “…occupy my thoughts.”

What? It wasn’t as you expected ever coming out of his mouth. He’s a gruesome man who doesn’t hesitate to tear limbs apart, yet here he is, in front of you, weak and docile. Between the cracks of his yielding facades, a hint of emotion shone through. It was as if your hand moved by itself, curling his hair behind his ear.

“Why?” You whispered, trying to grasp onto any sort of reason. “I don’t understand you.”

“There’s no need.” Shingen replied, his voice low and soft. This time, his eyes gazed longingly into yours, filled with an unspoken desperation, like he was hoping for something he couldn’t put into words. In all honesty, you were speechless. Before entering this room, you had no expectations, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Now you want to stay here, in this moment, forever. Seeing his face so soft was a sight engraved in your mind, one that you wouldn’t get tired of seeing.

“Just.. stay. Stay with me.” He bit his lip, his expression tender, waiting for a response he desperately needed. These words were simple, yet they carried a weight that made your chest tighten. His words resonated deep inside of you, and you couldn’t explain his new feeling.

The silence returned, but it didn’t feel thick and heavy, nor suffocating. It felt as if something growing between you two, something fragile and real.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, as your hand lands on his. Stroking his thumb, you noticed a faint smile creep onto his lips as a wave of contentment washed over him. It was a side of him that you had never seen — no, nobody has even seen — and it made you feel so special. *I was the only one to see this monster oh-so vulnerable. You saw it — how his shoulders eased and body relaxed, leaning into yours. As if he’d been holding it in for so long, and only now, in this room that he bared his suffering alone, has he been able to express it.

He turned his hand over, lacing his with yours. The feeling of his weathered hands felt so warm against yours, and you embraced his imperfections for what they were. That simple gesture sent a warmth through your body that made your chest ache. His other hand lifted, hesitating for a moment before resting it against your cheek, thumb brushing softly across your skin.

Shamelessly, you almost couldn’t keep your eyes off of his lips. And he couldn’t either. An eagerness that rested in your heart hedged for you to kiss him. You shifted closer to him, taking the chance and pulling him closer while your lips met his, hesitant but eager. Shingen’s mouth was warm, a firm contrast from his cold exterior. Your eyelids flutter close as you let yourself melt into the tenderness of his embrace. Restless, your hands finding themself gripping the hem of his robe, unable to get enough of him. Straddling his lap, you felt his hands naturally settle upon your hips. You finally take this chance to take a breathe, and you look into his eyes — hungry.

For the first time in your life, you felt as if you were in control — his gazed lifted to you, not looking down. You cupped his face,, watching how his cheeks squish against his lips, before leaning in to kiss him again. This time, you didn’t dare part them.

It was a moment you never wanted to end.

Yamazaki lifted you by the hips, taking care to lay your body onto the bed before climbing in between your legs. Untying your robe, his hands eagerly explore each crevice of your body. From your breasts, to your hips, to your thighs — you were perfect. Shingen leaned towards your breasts, gently circling his finger around your areola. Your nipples ached to be touched, yet he only groped your tits, kissing at the sensitive regions of your neck.

His kisses travelled down your collarbone, chest and stomach, towards your dripping cunt. Shingen’s long hair draped along your thighs, his warm breath causing your pussy to tremble.

“Hurry.” Voice aching with anticipation, he complied; his tongue slurped up all your juices, taunting your clit with the feathery contact. Every glide of his tongue has you loosing control of your pesky mouth once more, moans carelessly spilling, making his own neglected cock throb. Moving the strands of hair from his forehead back, you can see the lust and hunger embedded in his eyes, as if he’s holding back from having his way with you. It’s so sexy, seeing those glaring eyes gazing right back at you. His fingers grip deep enough into your skin that it could bruise, pulling you in closer to ravenously lavish in the juices of your leaking cunt.

Shingen leaned in closer to circle your clit with his tongue. A pleasured gasp came from above, which encouraged him to keep going. What if someone heard? You tried your hardest to suppress your moans, covering your mouth. Why’d he stop? A hand grips onto your wrist, pulling them away from your panting mouth as he looks up into your eyes.

“Don’t hold back your moans. I want to hear them.” He slowly pushed a finger through, thrusting in a come hither motion. Those hands, they were fucking huge, and your cunt struggled to spread around them. The once rough, sandpaper like hands melted into your love juices, becoming soft and creamy. A smirk ran across his lips as he rubbed his own erection, watching your face contort into a slutty mess.

Oh, what’s that? He presses against your g-spot, and you shriek in pure bliss. Each thrust leaves you breathless, bolts of pleasure running through your spine. What’s worse is the view of your juices spilling all over the sheets, creating a pool under you. Shingen can’t help but love what he’s doing to you, enjoying every moment of your helpless self.

Oh gosh, you could feel yourself getting closer, while he leans in to circle his tongue around your nub. Shamelessly attacking your weakest spot, you grip onto his hair as you could feel the pool of pleasure inside your stomach hollowing, and your voice becoming louder. In three last plunges against your g-spot, a squeal escapes you as you squirt all over his abdomen. Vision hazy, you felt his fingers pulling out and him panting himself. Shingen lapped up the aftermath of your delighted orgasm, hungrily devouring every last drop.

Next thing you know, his cock is hugged between the wetness of your folds, lined up against your hole. How the fuck was that thing going to fit inside of you? No matter how wet your hole was, the tip could barely push its way in.

“Relax,” His hands rested on each side of your hips for support, while he tried to push it in slowly.

“It’ll fit.” He spoke as if he knew what you were thinking. Shingen groaned as in one final thrust of force, he abruptly dipped into your heat. You let out a surprised squeal, as you both pant. One hand finds its way to grip onto your thigh that nestled around his waist, while the other grips onto your hips. Only three inches has found its home in the depths of your pussy, yet you’re already panting for air. It’s only just begun. He doesn’t dare push any further, afraid that’ll hurt you.

“Give me more. I.. I can take it…” Your voice trembles, trailing off at the end.

Of course, he indulges; pushing his length on further, six inches in. Even further now, seven, eight.. just how big is he?! The girth of his cock makes your head spin as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girth. As he pulls out, you noticed the glistening of his cock dipped in the wetness of your pussy, yet the remaining few wasn’t. Giving slow thrusts, you could feel the motion of his cock hitting so deep, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“You feel so good..” He groans into the crook of your neck, hungrily kissing your neck to your lips. That spongy spot inside of you is being tortured by his fat tip, and your joke shudders every time he does. Shingen’s never been this loud — breathlessly loosing control of himself, his precum already leaking inside of you.

“Shingen,” You pulled him in closer with your legs, causing another inch or two to slip in. “Gi.. Give me all of it. I told you, I, I can take it..”

You whine as your eyes start to water, having your toes curling. An instant regret floods his body as he saw the tears running down your cheek, yet he was feeling way too good to acknowledge anything else. Reluctantly, the last few inches fill you up, and oh, you could see his cock bulging out on your stomach.

Shingen faintly smiled as he pushed down on that spot, his hips unapologetically moving faster. It was so sensitive — him pressing down on your womb only made you scream in ecstasy more. Your hole tightens and squeezes him, and you could feel every twitch and pulse his desperate dick let’s out. His strong hands grip onto your hips, squeezing them while thrusting as fast as he could — a bolt of cum building inside his balls.

“Shingen..!” Your voice wails in heavenly bliss, yet he’s too pussy-drunk to even listen to a word you’re saying. “Agh..! W-Wait, I…!”

The sinful sounds of his balls slapping against your cunt drowned out the noises of your moans, and a sheen sheet of seat drips down your bodies.

“I’m.. I’m cumming.. T-Take it all..” just a little bit more and..!

He’s filling you up, mumbling all sorts of profanities. As soon as he pulls out, a rush of juices land on his chest yet again. It made him satisfied to see your hole bubbling with his sperm, dripping onto the wet sheets. It was an achievement to see you trembling, gasping for air, gripping into the sheets for some resolve. He plants a kiss on your cheek, biting on your earlobe before whispering into your ear:

“One more time, please?” And you couldn’t refuse.