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

[flowergoddessblooms]

I will never forget that day. In the middle of the night, as the storm raged, wind bellowing, we were safe in our house. It wasn't huge, but we were quite well to do compared to others in our community. The wood burned and the fire crackled, providing warmth much craved. There was enough food to last a month. We all sat in the light of the burning embers. I remember thinking how unfortunate that the others weren't so lucky.

Oh how I hate myself for even having had that thought. For moments after, we heard the sound of glass breaking. Our eyes darted across the room, now staring at a man brushing glass pieces off his black cloak. You would recognise the emblem on his cloak anywhere.

The Black Raven guild.

Mercenaries.

Before my brain could process what had just occurred, the man rushed through the room, armed with a dagger. It was over in a split second.

I stood agape, watching the crimson flow.

My parents were dead.

Blood seeped through the carpet, under the floorboards. Time was at a standstill.

The man looked over at me.

"A scrawny brat, eh? Well you weren't in the request and I couldn't care less about a little shit like you."

And he was gone.

My tears wouldn't stop. For days and nights I sat there clutching the bodies of my parents, as the rain and thunder never stopped. The stench of decaying corpses is something you can never imagine. One whose face is filled with absolute fear and desperation. It was etched into my heart.

And so, after a long time spent crying, trying to fix the wounds, venturing out into the storm to ask for help only to return dejected, I swore. I swore to myself that I would make that man regret being born for taking away my happiness.

It's been 21 years. 21 years of hunting for this man whose face I didn't know. 21 years of traveling around the country, spending days at inns, flocking bars, approaching information guilds, anything and everything. And I finally found him.

I found out everything about him.

57 years old. Muscular. Tanned. Shaved head. A thick beard. Lived in a little village on the outskirts of the country. He would protect the villagers from bandits. He was quite loved by the community.

But I know who he truly is. Beneath all that facade of a good man and the protector of women and children, he is someone who would kill people for money.

It didn't take me long to find him. And boy oh boy, it was infuriating.

He was a changed man. He didn't talk like the way he did that night, in a rugged tone, without an ounce of humanity. He had a slow speech and spoke as though he was an enlightened monk.

How. Funny.

He didn't recognise me at first. It was only when i mentioned who my parents were, that he looked at me with a forlorn gaze and sighed.

Was this asshole pitying me? This person, who wasn't worth being called human, was showing sympathy?

I remember what he said, word for word.

" All those years ago, I was someone who only lived for money because I had to take care of myself and my family. My sisters were about to be sold off if I hadn't paid off my father's gambling debts. I didn't have much choice. I don't do that anymore. I've found my place with these people here. I take care of bandits for them, they feed me and my family in return. It's quite a peaceful transaction." He said gazing wistfully towards the village.

Not a single apology.

And was that story supposed to make me feel empathetic for him? Where was his empathy when he mercilessly murdered my parents in front of a 9 year old?

Did he expect me to droop my shoulders, cry and hug him?

He deserved to die and I would give him that.

I raided his home late that night. It was dark and stormy, quite fitting really. I broke the window and jumped in. He wasn't ready and it wasn't much of a fight for me, he was old and slow, barely able to dodge my attacks. It was soon over. I stood over him, as blood splurted out of his neck, staining the wooden floorboards with a rich crimson hue. I sat there, laughing, relishing my victory, when I heard little whimpers from close by.

It didn't matter anyway. I had fulfilled what I had sworn all those years ago. I was finally at peace.

No matter how much of my humanity it took from me.

I was finally at peace.

When you were a child, a mercenary made you watch as he killed your entire family in front of you. You swore revenge. Decades later, you've finally tracked them down- …only to find they're now a pacifistic geriatric who's beloved by his community.

[puppy-phum]

Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 6: Pete & Way

King of Diamonds: A person with great wealth and power. Often skilled in various areas, a jack of all trades. Ten of Spades: A card of misfortune and tragic endings. Reveals secrets, obsessions, and lies.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 6 prompts: pete & way

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

pete and way are the last pair in this series and i have to say that it feels fitting. they are the pair with no ending, the pair left the most incomplete in season 1. way dies for redemption (which is stupid imo) before he's able to ever open up to pete and his attempts to get closer to way. pete is only left with a grave, yet nothing seems to end. (pls s2 come quicker, i need way to have his glorious back from the dead -moment already!)

pete: just like alan, i think pete's card is very obvious and so, very cliché. he's the king of diamonds through and through, the person often associated with money and power. he's very proud of what he's accomplished in life, yet always thrives to be more, to be bigger, better, more powerful. he's in a war against his adoptive father in the only way he knows how, and so he must always be on the rise. he has no chance of letting loose, and i think we all can agree that he works way too much and rests too little. he is often stuck being not quite himself, lonely at the top. it must be hard when we can see that beneath the business persona, pete is horribly warm.

this is why king of diamonds is also described as charitable, generous, and reliable. once again, pete is a lot like alan, but where alan offers his heart, pete offers resources: money, connections, and his skills. he's tried his best to become invincible in every way just like his adoptive father seems to be. he's great in socializing, in doing business, even in combat and tactics. he's driven by his wish to help, and i guess that often ties to his compassion and understanding. that's why he hasn't given up on kenta and that's why he instantly reaches out for way, too. pete might not be able to provide a family in the way alan does, but pete is able to reach out a helping hand. he can offer a place to stay for those who have nowhere else to go and no one else to listen to them. he cares, and just like with work, it's sometimes too much. he does not get a break from it.

way: it was easy to decide that spades was way's suit; a little later, i decided on number ten. i was first thinking about ace of spades bc it's the death card of the deck, but i did not want to make way only about his death when it's the thing i dislike about his character so much. so, i decided on ten bc of the "tragic ending", which is not way's death, even if it kind of is. i think the true tragic ending comes for him earlier; with the reveal of his betrayal that causes him to lose everything he's ever had. he loses his pack, his family, his home; he loses himself, and all his self-worth, and worst of all, babe. bc he does love babe, even if it's in all the wrong ways. way has tried his best, has tried to do what he thought was right, and in the end, it is not enough to solve anything or save babe. (and so he must die, but let's ignore that.)

in a sense, the reveal of that betrayal is both the end and a beginning for way. after it's it's a way for him to be born again. he can give up on all the lies, all the acting and pretending. he's used so much time and effort keeping up his web of lies he must be exhausted by now. how many times did he almost trip? how many times did he forget what lies he'd told and had to come up with new ones, or had to use his powers to fix his mistakes? now, there's no longer need for any of that. he can finally breathe freely. no more lies, no more acting, no more being someone else. everything is out in the open and it must be terrifying bc the ppl who loved him before, would they reject this real version of him? even if they were not this hurt, didn't hate him, would they still not want way? what if tony is right and there's nothing to love about him? i don't know but i hate that the series never let way find out. but well, in season 2 we trust, i suppose. i have hopes and dreams about it <3

but based on these thoughts, it's easy to see why pete and way would work together. way is the master of deception, of lies and acting. pete is able to read people, literally and figuratively. there's no hiding from him and his touch, and i think in some ways, way needs exactly that. he needs someone to understand him without words, or to look into his head and put his thoughts into words for him. pete again needs someone he can trust with his softer side, which i also find interesting about him: he is so ready to offer his heart to way even after knowing who way is and what his powers can do. pete seems like a paradox in that sense, always keeping everyone and everything at a distance (or so i assume), yet being so ready to believe in ppl and offer them trust he's seen so easily broken.

there are also some other interesting connections to this pair i wanted to mention. the funniest coincidence imo is that babe's card is about new beginnings, while way's card is now about tragic or bad endings. also, charlie's card being the exact half of way's (5 and 10) seems to have some kind of story behind it. pete again has the same suit as kenta, both their cards in the royal family, and i think that's exactly why they work and don't work together. pete is exactly like the king, the one on top and in control, while kenta is the knight, the person who serves and follows. they're both calm in personality, tho am not sure if it's exactly who they are or if it's who they were forced to become. i wonder what could've been if kenta had left with pete – or if they'd never been taken by tony at all and had grown up like other kids.

this edit concludes my musings for all these characters. it's been a joy to make these and ponder on these boys, and honestly, i feel like i've found a completely new love and appreciation for all of them. thank you for all who have liked these edits and happy anniversary to the vroom vroom omegaverse bl, you've been stellar ♥ never thought i'd come back to you in a year but here we are, have my whole heart!

(idk if i'll make an edit for the last week, so also adding that i enjoyed the event a ton! it's been fun going to the tag and seeing everybody talk about the series again. looking forward to s2 and the anniversary stage live in less than two weeks ^^)

[cronchy-cryptid]

I think the issue with being non-binary is that I can't even indulge in the daydream of "what if I were born as a different sex" because it wouldn't be better, it would just be different. It wouldn't feel more validating, I would just have to deal with all the stereotypes and expectations that sex has to deal with.

It wouldn't help that it feels like an up hill battle to be seen as a person before any other factor.

[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.

[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

[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!”

[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.

[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

· ════════༺ ✦⋆𓆩❀𓆪⋆✦༻ ════════··

♯┆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 ^-^

· ════════༺ ✦⋆𓆩❀𓆪⋆✦༻ ════════·

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.

[sirenedeslily]

𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

𝒢𑄺 ⸻ ❝ like if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did. ❜ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, a hardened fighter finds unexpected tenderness in the arms of a gentle soul, where love becomes both his salvation and his deepest fear.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, emotional and psychological angst, violence, mentions of trauma, depiction of illegal street fighting, sensitive themes of self-worth, and fear of hurting a loved one. my attempt @ fluff :3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 1.4k !

𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒘 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 wasn’t born into love.

no one had ever held him close when he was a boy. no one had ever whispered to him that everything would be okay when the nights were long and cold, when the bruises from the world around him were more than just skin deep. he had been passed around like something unwanted, a shadow that people barely noticed until they had to. one foster home after another, each colder than the last, until the idea of love or warmth was nothing more than a distant memory, something he’d never truly had in the first place.

at sixteen, matt stopped expecting anything from anyone. it was easier that way—no expectations, no hope, no chance of getting hurt. but the hurt came anyway, creeping into his bones like a sickness. the world had never been kind to him, and he had learned, in the back rooms of strangers’ houses, that the only thing he could control was how much he fought back.

and matt fought.

he fought with his fists, with his teeth, with a rage that seemed to consume him whole. it was the only way to survive in a world that had given him nothing but pain. the violence became his only language, the only thing that made sense. it was how he stayed alive, how he kept himself from being swallowed by the emptiness that followed him wherever he went.

that’s when he came into matt’s life—a man who saw the violence in matt’s eyes and knew how to use it. the man didn’t care about the boy behind the bruises, didn’t care about the heart that had been broken so many times it barely beat anymore. all he cared about was how hard matt could hit, how much damage he could do. and matthew? he didn’t care, either.

he was just looking for a place to sleep.

so he fought. brutal, illegal street fights in the back alleys of forgotten places, where the only law was how much blood you could spill. matt became a machine, a weapon honed by years of neglect and pain, his body more bruise than boy. he fought because it was all he knew how to do. he fought because no one had ever given him anything else.

but it wasn’t living. it was surviving, and just barely.

and then you came into his life.

you, with your cinnamon scent and wide, innocent eyes. you, who looked at him like he was more than just the violence he had been shaped into. you, who had never known the darkness he lived in, but who somehow saw through it. you stepped into his world of shadows and fists, and instead of running, you stayed.

you, with your soft hands and your gentle smile, were like a dream. he wasn’t sure you were real at first—how could you be? no one had ever looked at him the way you did, like you could see past the bruises, past the blood, and into something deeper. something matt wasn’t sure existed anymore.. or ever.

but you saw it. you always saw it.

the first time you touched him, matt flinched. not because you hurt him, but because your touch was so gentle. he wasn’t used to gentle. he wasn’t used to anything soft, not after years of fists and hard floors and nights spent alone. your fingers brushed against his skin like a whisper, light and warm, and matt felt something in him break, something he hadn’t even known was there.

you didn’t ask him to be anything other than what he was. you didn’t ask him to change, to give up the fights, the violence that was so much a part of him. you just were—you were there, with your cinnamon-sweet smile and your heart so full of love, and somehow, that was enough.

for the first time in his life, matt wasn’t alone. for the first time in his life, someone saw him, not just the fighter, not just the boy who had been left behind over and over again, but him. the boy who was still trying to find something to hold onto, something that wasn’t blood and pain and broken bones.

you held him without asking for anything in return. you let him break down his walls at his own pace, piece by piece, until he wasn’t just matt, the street fighter, the boy who only knew how to survive. he was yours.

there were nights when matt would come home from a fight, his knuckles bruised and his body aching, and you would be there, waiting for him. you, who smelled of cinnamon and warmth, would welcome him into your arms as if he weren’t covered in blood, as if the violence that followed him didn’t touch you. you didn’t flinch when you saw the cuts and bruises; you just took his hands in yours, your fingers soft as you traced the lines of his knuckles.

“it’s okay,” you’d whisper, pressing your lips to the broken skin on his hands, as if you could kiss away the pain, as if your love could heal the wounds that ran so much deeper than the surface.

and maybe it could.

because with you, matt felt something he hadn’t felt in years—something he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt at all. it was a warmth that spread through his chest, a lightness that came from the way you looked at him, the way you touched him like he was something precious. he didn’t know how to handle it at first, didn’t know what to do with the way you made him feel, like he was more than just a boy made of bruises and scars.

but you were patient. you didn’t push. you just loved him, quietly, gently, until matt started to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of that love.

matt had never been soft. he had never been the kind of person who let himself feel too much, who let himself hope for something better. but you—you—changed that. you brought out a part of him that he didn’t even know existed, a part of him that wanted to be better, to be more. not for himself, but for you.

there were moments, late at night, when you’d curl up next to him, your head resting on his bare chest, and matt would just hold you, his arms wrapped around you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. and in those moments, with your warmth pressed against him and your scent filling the air, matt would feel something close to peace.

it scared him, sometimes—how much he needed you. how much he wanted you. he wasn’t used to needing anyone, wasn’t used to feeling like someone could slip through his fingers and take his heart with them. but you were different. you weren’t just someone; you were everything.

you were the sweetness in his life, the light in the darkness that had surrounded him for so long. you made him feel things he didn’t know how to name, things he didn’t know how to control. and it terrified him. because matt had only ever known how to fight, how to push people away before they could hurt him. but with you, he didn’t want to push. he wanted to pull you closer, hold you tighter, keep you with him forever.

but love—real love—wasn’t easy.

there were nights when the darkness inside him would rise up, when the violence that lived in his blood would threaten to consume him. he’d wake up in a cold sweat, his heart racing, his hands clenched into fists, ready for a fight that wasn’t there. and you—you would always be there, your hands soft on his skin, your voice a soothing whisper in the quiet of the night.

“i’m here,” you’d say, your breath warm against his chest. “i’m not going anywhere.”

and you never did. no matter how many times matt tried to push you away, no matter how many times he told you that he wasn’t good enough for you, that you deserved someone who could give you more than this life of blood and violence and pain, you stayed.

you stayed, and you loved him, and you showed him that maybe, just maybe, he was worth loving.

matt had never known a love like yours. a love that was gentle and fierce all at once, a love that didn’t ask for anything in return but still gave everything. you were his 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, sweet and warm, the one thing in his life that made him believe in something more than just survival.

you made him feel like he could be something more than the violence that had shaped him. you made him feel like he could be yours.

and in the end, that was all he ever wanted to be.

𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ trying to work on requests but it’s been mostly chris stuff and i miss writing about my boyfriend soooo :3

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @fawnchives @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia

© sirenedeslily

[onlyangel4]

the life i deserve. part four. LN4. OP81

in which reader unexpectedly falls pregnant but her current boyfriend can't say no to his party lifestyle so he leaves her. who better to fill his place than his teammate.

warnings- pregnancy. angst. birth.

faceclaim: hailey bieber

part one // part two // part three

part five

f1wags

liked by user15, user16, user17 and 87,283 others

f1wags: lando norris spotted with a girl on a night out in monaco. we do not know who this mystery girl is, we hope y/n is okay with this news

view all 6,829 comments

user15: isn't y/n literally about to pop, shouldn't he be worried about his child

user16: god poor y/n

user17: i hope she makes him wear a condom

piastrisightings posted a story

written: oscar piastri spotted outside a hospital in new york, we hope y/n is okay

f1gossip posted a story

written: logan and riley have arrived in nyc, i think it is safe to say that y/n has gone into labour. still no sight of lando.

y/ninsta

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,203,034 others

y/ninsta: me and you against the world

introducing, luka jack y/ln who decided to enter this world eight weeks early but he is doing brilliantly and i truly am in new born bliss

view all 179,938 comments

oscarpiastri: you amaze me

y/ninsta: thank you for being there

rileywhittall: i am so in love with him

y/ninsta: was he worth missing half your holiday

rileywhittall: he is worth so much more

logansargeant: you and him are so loved

y/ninsta: you are going to make me cry mister sargeant

georgerussell3: i can't wait to meet the little man

y/ninsta: he can't wait to meet you either

fernandoalo_official: so proud of y/n

y/ninsta: thank you nando

user18: guys the middle name

user19: i know, her picking oscar's middle name for him is so special

kevinmagnussen: you are going to be a brilliant mother

y/ninsta: that means a lot coming from the best dad i know

user20: kind of shady not using lando's last name

user21: mate he wasn't even there for his birth, y/n owes him nothing y/ninsta liked this comment

rileywhittall posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: my first godson is the most perfect little boy, y/n i am so proud of you

oscarpiastri posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: so incredibly proud of you

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

@hadids-world

@callsignwidow

@barcelonaloverf1life

@queen-of-the-hunt

@piastrams

@kravitzwhore

@a-beaverhausen

@fangirlforever2000

@formulaal

@azeal-peal

@magical-spit

@that-one-little-soybean

@raizelchrysanderoctavius

@zatarias-pandora

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@anotheranotherblogwoah

@leclercdream

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@kikiki04

@dullypully

@awritingtree

@stylesmoonlight12

@pippyth3hippy

@hc-dutch

@whosra

@lancestrollsgf

@dying-inside-but-its-classy

@vulkaari

@minkyungseokie

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖘 [Teaser]

It doesn't matter how heavy the crown one wears might be- if it's made out of lies, it's worth nothing.

Tags/Warnings: Medieval AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Adult Themes (such as smut, Violence and blood)

Type: Oneshot

Wordcount: long. Very long actually considering what I usually write.

A/N: This fic was actually written prior to moonlit, and the draft is available on patreon. But I could never really let go of it, so I'm finishing it these days.

Note: this is a 'sister-fic' to another work called Moon Of Claiming, which has similar themes and world building, but different plot. The draft for that is also available on patreon, and I'm planning on publishing that one after this one. Both fics will be Early Access there.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

The goal is clear.

His prize is right in front of him, your body held by silver chains, your eyes still shining like two polished gemstones with tears of pain and fear, as you’re forced to watch whatever might happen.

But your tears are unnecessary. Jungkook doesn’t even think about failing.

All that he can think about is the way that silver metal is burning your skin, how that is the only thing holding you back, weakening your body so much so that you’re unable to even move anymore. He can’t stand the sight of them keeping you close like this, far away from his reach, even though everyone around, wolfblood or not, knows that you’re his. Not just chosen by him, but chosen by the moon herself, born to become his mate. And yet, he’s being challenged.

A joke, really. That is what this is to him.

“She’s got stamina, doesn’t she?” his opponent claims, already convinced that he will win this chase- most likely with the help of the same foul tricks he used to get into his position in the first place. “it’ll be easy to catch her.”

Jungkook stays silent. Because deep down he knows- he’s right.

You’ll be weakened, not only by silver and wolfsbane- but also from fear, from being alone, left to run through the woods in search of anything that could become safety. And in a state such as that, you’ll most likely be completely unable to differentiate between friend and enemy- you’ll just take whatever you can get, even if that alpha isn’t him.

But he will find you first. He knows he has to.

Tonight they may take you away from him- keep you from him, but tomorrow, when the moon sits high in the skies to watch over him and witness the whole thing unfold, he’ll get you back. Tomorrow he will prove it to all that some things are not just pure chance- that your bond is more than just luck on his side, and that your choice was always written in the stars.

Tomorrow it’s time to show the fake king how much power he really holds.

[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!