#ALSO I HOPE IM MAKING SENSE I JUST WOKE UP

[gaydexvocaloid]

nvm just saw one of my friends mock the fact that people like a character who is a Conventionally Attractive White Woman so i think i'm entirely justified in my paranoia

im gonna be fr and i don’t mean this 2 be malicious at ur friend, jst my genuine opinion ;;; but imo people who judge others just based on characters they like ( as long as the character isn’t inherently shit like rac/st or smth yk ) aren’t the best ppl.. i’m so sorry you’re around people who’ve made you b paranoid about just what characters you like T__T like there r so many other problems in the world and they choose to worry themselves abt what other ppl like.. likeee???.. it just sucks your worries aren’t just “worries” ,,, u deserve better ppg anon T_T

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss renrennnnnnnnnn

[evilneo]

Abt your info post, what do you mean "body is white"? Are u talking about race? Why don't you just say you're white then? Im genuinly curious like are you trying to seperate yourself from your race or something? From your lived priveledge?? Do you think you're any less white or any less capable of racism because your queer and disabled or whatever? Like what.

I get it might be a system thing like when you said ur body is 19, but if that's the case why didn't you just say your body needs a cane to function instead of just "cane user"? Is it because you actually want to identify with that because it makes you feel special?

I'd appreciate if this got answered. Maybe it's just something I don't understand about white people yet. Guess I'm open to be educated or whatever

"body is white" = "all alters in this system benefit from white privilege and have only the lived experience of a white person, because however they present in headspace, the body, which is how we are all perceived as, no matter our connection to it, is white"

its not that we think were less white, thatd be. really stupid. its meant to be acknowledging our collective lived privilege of being white no matter how we look in headspace. weve never said or implied being queer or disabled makes us less white? weve always been solid on the stance that while yes we are at a disadvantage from our queerness and disability, we still benefit from white privilege.

other alters do actually phrase it as "the body is a cane user/disabled"*, but i also use a cane in headspace and this is my personal blog, hence the more personal language of "cane user"

*one of our cis alters phrases it like this too↓

TLDR: what im trying to say is that its not a phrase trying to induce separation, its a phrase that binds to every single alter in the system

[tengwar]

Ive been meaning to ask for a while since its in your pinned, but what are your experiences as Elvenkind? How did you find out that Ñoldor was what fit you best? What are some of your beliefs surrounding it? Ive been looking at myself more and I've found myself drawn to the label, so I want to know how you personally approach it.

I'm putting this under a Read More so everyone doesn't have to read my heavy spiritual talk if they don't want

Also I'm aware this might make me sound batshit insane to people but I don't really care

Basically, I call myself elvenkind because I feel more attached to my elven identity rather than being from a fictional source. I don't view my life as a past life, rather one continuous life because of my belief surrounding the fëa vs hröa

The label is very flexible and I think it has a lot to do with how someone approaches their own spirituality. Since I'm from the Silm I mostly draw from Tolkien, but there's plenty of elvenkind from other sources or from no source at all

The fëa (soul) functions separately from the hröa (body) and can live independently from it. So death is the destruction of the hröa, with the fëa being severed from it and then housed in Mandos for awhile before going to a new hröa

As for my specific identity, I don't really know how to explain how I came about that. It was more of a stereotypical "otherkin awakening" where everything suddenly made sense once I realized it. It took me awhile to figure out everything but I think I have it pretty thought out now. I wish I could help more with the figuring out part, but I feel like I didn't really go through a questioning period, it was kind of just like. An immediate feeling of "This is me" and it being something that I deeply felt to be right with no doubt. But from what I've heard this isn't exactly most people's experience so

As for like...why I'm here, I don't really know and honestly don't really care. I hesitate to assign any sort of "purpose" for this life because well. I'm just here and that's what matters, just trying to make the best of it. Unfortunately I do really miss Valinor all the time and wish I could go back, but I'm in no rush to throw away this life either

I hope this helps a little, I'm always worried it just makes me sound deranged so. Sorry if anyone reads this and then thinks I'm crazy 😐

[wildtornado-o]

Forever thinking about Laurence's character arc and what led him to treason liiike... idk its just really interesting to me. I don't think book one Laurence would have committed treason against England, like yeah he probably would have disagreed with the dirty tactic they were using but he would have stood by his country. Comparing this to the Laurence that stole those mushrooms and flew to France knowing he would be hanged for it is just <3 <3

[strawbebyjam]

back 2 missing it 👍🏼

[nicholasgoodgirl]

that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

--

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

--

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

[kurthorton-moving]

anxiety is Hitting today like damn i just woke up lets chill

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

i'm hard of hearing and i have an auditory processing disorder, but i don't know sign. so my opinion is definitely of lesser importance than those who are deaf

please pardon any mispellings as i am dyslexic, am writing this on my phone, and am not editing it too seriously

i think it's overall fine to use ASL or SSL in the same way it is fine for one's fantasy world to use English; however, ive learned that's really only the case if a person is fluent in it. you're fluent in English, so it makes sense for you to use English throughout this story; if you are not also fluent in ASL and/or SSL, it is less recommended for you to, utilizing the same aforementioned logic as using English language, use either of these two languages throughout your story from what i have seen from the deaf community. (it might be easier to understand through a hypothetical. it isn't an exact equivalent, of course, but it will help illustrate the point; just indulge me in a suspension of disbelief and "be silly". let's pretend i am writing a story where, for whatever reason, i am using a singular Swedish-only speaking character while everyone else is English-speaking. i know that'd be silly to do pragmatically, but again: "be silly" with me for a second. i have one Swedish-speaking character, everyone else is English-speaking. this would be fine for me to do if i was fluent in both languages, as you are fluent in Swedish and English. however, i am not fluent in Swedish. as a result of this lack of fluency, unless i am actively practicing to learn Swedish, there is going to be a LOT of mistakes in me saying "this is the Swedish equivalent of xyz in English", i am going to get grammar wrong, i am going to miss nuance, and i am going to assume there are Swedish words that might not exist because they exist in English. i may be using an official "Swedish to English" website as reference, but i am going to fuck up so much in my lack of Swedish fluency that for any Swedish-speaker like yourself: you are going to cringe and wish i had became fluent in Swedish before writing this or that i gotten in contact with someone who is fluent in Swedish to correct my mistakes in linguistics, nuances, culture, and whatnot. that's what i mean by "it's fine for you to use English, ASL, or SSL in fantasy if you're fluent!" and why im suggesting thoughtfulness in proceeding if you are NOT fluent. i hope this makes sense lol but yeah! sign language of any kind is, ultimately, a language. so the same respects applies to sign language as to Swedish in this sense when it comes to application of dialogue and the nuances inherent within that language's culture. this is by no means saying "no deaf characters or sign language allowed unless you are in the community!",of course, that'd be as ridiculous as "no Swedish characters allowed unless you are Swedish/have lived in Sweden for x amount of years!". no, of course, do it! inclusivity: yay!! we just have to be proceed thoughtfully when we create a character that represents a specific identity lmao but yeah, to summarize this hypothetical: if you has wanted to do a Swedish-only-speaking character amongst your English speaking cast, you are fluent in both, of course you can do that! but i would need to proceed with caution as a monolingual English-speaker and rely on someone Swedish-speaking checking my work)

and, of course, there are cases of a person not fluent writing a really good story staring a deaf person, like the manga "A Sign Of Affection" by Suu Morishita (which is a duo going under one pseudonym if my memory recollects right); however, they have a consultant named Yuki (who is a deaf person who uses sign in Japan. they also named their female lead after her in thanks lol but for clarity, ill be using "Yuki" to refer to the consultant, not the character) who they interview before every chapter to ensure they are portraying their deaf character realistically, to help them brainstorm future chapter and scenarios, for final approval of past chapters before they finish it up, and will also ask her to translate the dialogue for the deaf characters to say through sign (they film her signing her translation to use as an art reference, and also use her to find out what exactly the characters can say since very few sign-languages have one-to-one translations of a hearing-language. the sentences grammar and the available vocabulary for one's diction are different). you can read more about their process with Yuki within the manga, they explain it as a bonus feature between chapters and have also done interviews for magazines and whatnot. so there is fluency in that example, it just doesn't come from the mangaka duo. if you have a resource to apply that to with ASL or SSL, i think that makes perfect sense to do so! have that person help you out! it is overall preferable to have someone who doesn't know sign try to depict fluency in THAT way, from what i understand after looking into deaf people discuss preferred characterization anyway

if you want to do a conlang for a fictive sign language (especially if you do not have an ASL or SSL fluent deaf person to use as a resource of if you yourself are not fluent in either or), i think that also makes sense. i started learning about how deaf people prefer to be depicted in fantasy works starting at this reddit thread (there's links to further discussion within it, and invitation of where to ask questions). i also like this tiktok user named @/bow_asintakea_rawn who has a lot of deaf content relating to fiction/fantasy that could potentially be a resource (you could even try talking to him if you feel so comfortable). and lastly, i like the youtuber @/oakwyrm, who is a disabled person who does a lot of disabled media analysis (especially fantasy) and whose essays can service as a resource in that way (i forget if oakwyrm is deaf or not though, but he does discuss deafness in some videos despite many deaf people not considering their deafness as a disability, which is fair, and others do, which is also fair). i have other deaf youtubers i could recommend, but none of them interact with fantasy much so i dont know how useful they would be; if you want more deaf resources, i would suggest just googling "deaf youtubers" since i know deafness in respect to "how to portray this community and sign-language in fantasy" is more important to this discussion so i won't detract by offering resources that digress from this topic

i dont know many fantasy pieces that include how to depict deaf people, but i know the overall sentiment about sign language in fiction/fantasy is "Depict signing as functionally the same as speaking" since it is just another language. this sounds counter-productive initially if the idea is new to you, but the idea of novels needing the following reminder makes sense: "There's no need to replace '[deaf character] said' with '[deaf character] signed'. Introduce the deaf character using sign, introduce who knows sign and who needs a translator (if anyone), and from then on carry on using '[deaf character] said' whenever they have something to say. We have grasped from then on that they are using sign. You don't need to make them the odd one out of the group from then on by using a differnt tag just for them. It's alienating. Only use 'signed' as a tag when it's an example where the signing distinction is necessary, like '[hearing character] signed to me not to whisper, his eyes trained on the guard searching for us' or a similar situation" (this is not a quote, otherwise i would cite it. i cant find where i learned this idea from, but i did want to ensure there was a distinction that this was not my idea, but me parroting an idea i have heard and learned from, if nothing else). i mention this to you and your comic because the same logic applies to visual distinctions of signing. from what i have seen: the preferred depiction of sign in graphic novels specifically includes a similar line of logic: "Use the same speech-bubbles as you would use for hearing characters that are not signing", and the idea of "translation boxes" is less preferred unless there is a specific reason why (like maybe a deaf character knows two sign-languages and is switching to one most of the cast doesn't know). though "A Sign Of Affection"'s manga is a great example of deaf characters in manga overall, they unfortunately don't do this (meaning their deaf characters don't use the same speech-bubbles when they sign as when hearing characters are speaking and not using sign), which i personally don't recommend copying unless a deaf person/people who sign DO advise to mimic it. i personally recommend to use the same speech bubbles as hearing characters have when they do not sign, as aforementioned; that's the impression i have been given by those ive listened to in the deaf community. which to do the same speech-bubbles regardless of sign or no sign makes sense, to me, as it better treats sign-language visually as of similar respects as any other language. (but, again: deaf people's opinion over mine. especially if they disagree. i am parroting, what i parrot is biased to what i have seen within my sphere of the internet; i am of far less importance) HOWEVER, something really cool about "A Sign of Affection"'s speech bubbles that the deaf community and hearing community both really like is how "A Sign of Affection" will use speech-bubbles to show what Yuki can/can't hear. they have different text colors to show when their deaf main character hears something being said and when that deaf character does not hear the person (because the hearing character has their lips covered, because the deaf character wasn't looking directly at the hearing person's lips and was not aware they were speaking, because the hearing character spoke literally behind the hearing person's back, and so on). if you want to mimic that aspect, that's totally okay to do so lol and i'm sure there are other graphic novel resources of deaf people to look into, but i haven't encountered many (eg. i know "A Silent Voice" exists but i stay away from stories with suicidal characters due to triggers, so i have no idea if it is reverred as fondly by the deaf community as i know "A Sign Of Affection" is due to my lack of interaction with the content/its fandom)

but i hope this small handful of leads helps you out! if my assumption that you are not CODA or a hearing person fluent in sign is correct (im a newer follower, sorry lol but i do really like your stuff so far and think your "Felt World" comic is fantastic! i just also know very little about you lmao rip), and if you do not have a fluent person in sign to use as a sinilar resource as Yuki is stellarly used in "A Sign Of Affection", i think a conlang is probably the best option for you? i definitely think it might of help to go to some reddit threads with prominent deaf people who use sign to recruit one or a few beta-reader/sensitivity-reader as a resource. bonus if they like conlangs and are willing to help you develop one. or are willing to translate their fluency for you so you know what diction translation is available for your character's dialogue + to film their signs for you to use as a reference. i originally found you through your tiktok, so it might be helpful to formally recruit there through a short video and tag it appropriately to reach out to the deaf and signing community for that type of beta-reader/sensitivity-reader/possible-translator/possible-conlang-help-resource person

my last piece of advice towards finding resources is you might find more information here on tumblr under the tag "writing deaf characters". i think(?) that's the tag people use to discuss how to depict deaf characters, though that is not sign-language specific in the sense of how to depict sign-language in fantasy. you'd probably have to scroll to find posts on that. but it should give you resources of people saying "this is my advice for writing a deaf character as someone who is deaf" who you could then reach out to for more specific questions, resource-help, and whatnot

finally, i know you said "there is *A* deaf character" in your post, but i do want to hesitantly implore you to include that said character as being a part of a deaf community. so having other characters around them also be deaf. it is very unusual, from what i understand, for a deaf character to be the ONLY deaf person they know or that they willingly surround themselves with. the deaf community is very close-knit to the point of people actually all having two names: they have a sign-name as well as their name used in conversation with hearing people. community and solidarity is extremely common with deafness. community is huge part of the deaf culture. being the only deaf character would only make some sense if that character is purposefully alienated from others (think Toph from "Avatar: The Last Airbender"'s family situation, tho she is blind, not deaf) but even then: they had to learn their fluency with sign language from SOMEWHERE and used it often with those people (and this sign language had to get popularized into having a standardization by... like... having a lot of people use it, which would only happen if a lot of people NEEDED it, which means there has to be a significant deaf community lmao). this is especially true if the equivalent-of-face-timing isn't possible in "Felt World" (as video-calls are the predominant form of long-distance communication that accomadates sign); if long-distance communication isn't possible between people who use sign language, they go for proximity (hence there being schools to facilitate deaf community and communication). this can then cause "accents" so to speak (there's even records of families of deaf people having their own family-signs and "accents" in addition to region-based). this is best noticed in how, in the USA, there actually isn't just one form of sign-language originated from here. which, yes, there are multiple "English-associated" sign-languages (i think the most famous trio are ASL, BSL, and SSE to non-Americans?? but there are even more "English-associated" sign languages than that and i'm not talking about any of those rn, but rather the fact that ASL is not the only sign language to originate from the United States of America). i'm talking about how, due to the segregation of Black people in schools, there is BASL (Black American Sign Language). community matters so much to deaf people that something as dividing as segregation resulted in two totally different forms of sign. and even though schools are no longer segregated, that history has lead to two different origins of language that the descendents of which have little to very little overlap now as distinct "accents" from what i understand as someone who uses neither forms of sign (and it should go with saying that many Black deaf people in America have to be fluent in not only English and also ASL, in addition to BASL, in order to gain accommodations in classrooms that are not at a BASL School. it is unfortunate that such a hurdle exists and i greatly admire Black deaf people and their preservation of BASL, as well as anyone hearing who signs BASL to help translate for Black deaf people in their first language so there are less hoops for Black deaf people to jump through. but i digress). so, again, deaf people being surrounded by other deaf people either through technology-that-accomadates-sign or proximity is HUGE. so i would say at MINIMUM introduce this one character as having access to a community of background characters who are also deaf and sign, in addition to hearing people who sign. that insistence you ensure there is a community of deaf characters in this world (if not having multiple deaf recurring characters or main characters) probably goes without saying? i probably didnt need to say all this. but im erring on the side of caution since i feel a bit on thin-ice as a non-sign-language-user speaking here to begin with lol

but yeah! again, i dont know sign so this is me parroting things i have learned from the deaf community about how they prefer sign be utilized (this isn't even approaching the topic of cochlear implants, as that can be seen as controversal to some deaf circles and fine to other deaf circles within the overall community) and giving you the leads i can currently recall having been useful to me when i realized i had a curiosity about how to best utalize sign in fantasy settings (im sure i once used more but i have alas forgotten them, as this post even shows in how i dont remember where to cite certain ideas to). definitely defer to people who know sign, especially those who are deaf, over me as i am not within that portion of the hoh/deaf community as a whole. but i digress. i hope this is helpful, and i wish you and your comic the best of luck! much love ♡

Ah fuck it this is gonna be a spoiler but I genuinely can't figure out what the right course of action is so here goes...

SO THERE'S A DEAF CHARACTER IN FELT WORLD who uses sign to communicate. (Don't speculate, it'll be revealed, but don't make assumptions just in case it isn't who you thought it was and you end up disappointed)

My question is; do I pick American Sign Language, Swedish Sign Language, or do I make up a fictive Sign Language?

My arguments for all:

ASL: the comic is written in American English

SSL: I'm from Sweden, and there are tons of Swedish references in felt world

Fictive SL: would be much easier from a production stand point

What are y'all's input? I'd love to hear especially if you're deaf/heard of hearing and using sign yourself. Thanks in advance!!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. thus, he sets his sights on your professor.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[unknownanomoly]

I have decided to continue the trend!~ but cats instead! I personally think the cats came out better but that's only because I have drawn cats my entire life and I never drew lambs before joining the cult of the lamb fandom. Also I wanna say a few things. I'm sorry for anyone's lambs I misgendered in the last post, also for aveloka this took me about 2 hours, one hour rough draft sketch another hour for full sketch/outline. And I think that's it for now... anyways, cats!

@oneofthosenightbees I love Narinder's cloak so much! very creative! and also thank you for the picture of my lamb! I squealed so loud i thought I woke my family @bamsara the face was hard but I loved drawing them so much, again cloak was really fun, the cloak on like all of these Nari's were really fun to draw tbh @cotl-flower-crown I love the fluffy cloak thing, and just how angry they look! @melled42 your lamb sadly didn't get into my last post since I started following you after I made that, but I drew your Nari! I love them very much and having them as a hairless cat is very creative! I love the idea!

@ballad-of-the-lamb I love how annoyed your Nari looks! and also their outfit was really fun! Also sorry about the lamb thing, idk which lamb to chose so i choose the first one i saw! but still, I love your Nari very much! @xmajordumps I drew them from when shamura was threatening them, I hope I did it well since you know, they were kinda covered in blood and all! but really fun shaped and all! they look so angry! (why are all the narinders so angy?) @slate021 I love drawing fluffy cats so much! I love drawing fluff in general and your Nari satisfied the fluff meter. @faery-the-diamond Yours is so simple and yet somehow so complicated, I love your AU and how the lamb is a crown and Nari pretty much needs to tend to everything in the cult, its kinda funny tbh, I love your Nari!

@acis-arts so adorable! They look like a child, I just wanna pick them up and kidnap them! (im gonna kidnap them) @neon-virus yours looks so nice, and such like a gentleman, so handsome! Can I adopt them? And if not can I kidnap them? And if not well too bad, their mine now @seffen yours looks like it's gonna take your eyes out and then watch you slowly die of blood loss... so in other words adorable demon that I wanna hold even if it hates me! @voidheartkisses Adorable! so innocent looking! I loved drawing them, their fluff, the ears also, I've never drawn ears like that before! @alllgator-blood Just like the lamb I love the shapes and I love how your Narinder's personality is like! It's so funny! @foxritz Yours looks grumpy, maybe it's just how I drew them? but the fluff was fun and also the ears were also quite different from what I'm used to so It was also fun to draw those!

@plenty-sheep-in-the-sea from what I know you don't have a lamb that is posted yet so sadly I couldn't draw a lamb for you in my last post! But your traumatized young Narinder is adorable! @unwri-ten I loved drawing them, they give such a sassy drag queen kinda vibe, if that make sense (?) @aubeezz Yours is adorable and fits with how I drew your lamb very well! I love the cheek fluffs! Adorable! @skyartworkzzz thank you for pointing out the gender thing, again I'm sorry about that! but moving on! Your Narinder was really fun to draw, the little cheek fluffs on the side remind me of my own narinders cheek fluffs! I also love the cloak! @rampantram Yours is absolutely lovely, I love your art style a lot! Just as fun as drawing your lamb! I look up to you a lot!

@ghosts-and-glory can yours age or does their fur just fall out? anyways! I love your AU, the storyline is amazing and when I first found you I sat there rereading like every comic kinda thing I could find on your account like 50 different times! @aveloka-draws Yes I'm ok. No it does not take long. I loved drawing your Nari, they look confused but pissed, and yet again all Nari's look pissed no matter what, the outfit is also really fun! I love drawing your style of characters, their so pointy and fun... if that also makes sense in anyway...?

Here is my Narinder! He's based off of a mink color point cat! So instead of being black, he's a brown cat with black smoked patterns, or known as the Siamese markings! He lost all memory of the bishops being killed and himself defeated, so Lamb helped him through it until he gained his memory back, and when he did he became a lot like Shimura. He was pretty much mindless in a way... I just wondered around aimlessly and wouldn't respond, sometimes he comes back but very rarely, Lamb worries about him a lot. the cloak was made by lamb as a welcome gift to make Nari feel for comfortable in the cult! Also the thing on Nari's finger is a butterfly! It's his butterfly friend! No name yet but if you have ideas but tell me, I'm terrible with names! Sometimes he has panic attacks which make his eyes cry blood, plus whenever he opens his third eye it instantly starts bleeding. He also has eyes on the palms of his hands but you can't see them at the moment, he can see how people die with them!

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[eldritch-spouse]

Hear me out ok? In the middle of the night u just get rlly needy and horny but u dont have the guts to wake vesper up so u use his belly mouth instead to get off. Idk if im mistaken but i think u mentioned about vesper's belly mouth is awake even in the night?

[Yep, correct! Fem reader.]

TW: Somnophilia; Dubious consent then enthusiastic consent.

It's its own special type of Hell, living with Vesper.

Not because he treats you badly. Quite the contrary, as soon as you started making efforts to accept your new reality, he was the first one to volunteer any sort of help, hoping to make you feel as comfortable here as you did in your home, back on the surface. And, putting aside the volumes of mixed feelings you have regarding all this, it's... Sweet of him to at least care about your comfort.

That's not the problem.

The problem is your ceaseless libido.

Ever since you woke up in this ring, in his mansion, you've been burning up with arousal. You're always some degree of wet, sensitive, mind heading to the gutter far too frequently. You want everything and everyone, you want Vesper's touch on your body at every. Possible. Moment. You want him to slip his fingers and tongue anywhere he can and you want him to pick you up like a fucktoy whenever he pleases- Because it feels like nothing will ever sate you these days.

When you brought these concerns to the King, he was more than thrilled by the knowledge, though also a tad empathetic. It must be jarring, yes, he cooed, but you'll soon come to embrace your own desires. They're your true nature, after all.

It was... A strange conversation. To say the least.

Thankfully, Lust is the last place in the universe where you can be judged for excessive sexual cravings. It isn't the possible judgment of others that stops you from going all in, your own thoughts are what makes you hesitate.

Because, even if Vesper has made it very clear that you're to deliberately seek him out when you're bothered -No matter what he's up to- He can't possibly mean all the time, right?

It's common sense that you're not supposed to wake the Icon of Lust from a dead sleep just so you can have sex. How selfish of you! He's a King, he needs his rest.

But Gods... You're so fucking horny.

You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Maybe it's from sleeping in the same bed as him, where his loose fluff spreads sometimes, getting into the sheets, contaminating them. That must be the cause of your misery, in retrospect.

Well... You could get up. Look around, have a drink, return to bed after cooling off and enjoying the view from his lavish home. But you're comfortable.

And his smell... Oh, you inhale the pillow between you two faintly, it's addictive.

You don't want to get up. At all. Leaving this room sounds awful.

The tiniest bit of light creeps in through a gap in the massive curtains of your resting chambers, allowing some of the faint reddish glow of night to slink its way in, highlighting the form of your massive, recently proclaimed husband. Vesper sleeps soundlessly, a hand over his chest, the other, once holding you to his side, now dormant on the sheets, fingers periodically twitching. He sleeps bare, to absolutely no one's surprise. Legs faintly parted, offering a view you admire shamelessly in the dark. You've no doubt he has watched you like this before, so it's more than fair you get to ogle as well.

He's gorgeous. He's hot. So hot. You're married to the hottest thing that ever lived. Gods, he's such a whore.

Another flare of heat travels its way up from your loins. It would be exceptionally easy. All you'd have to do is palm at his exposed slit for a moment or two and he'd pop those treats out for you. All for you. He wouldn't even care, it's probably normal for Vesper-

With a shake of the head, you push said thoughts away as hard as possible. See? Not a moment of rest, all these gross ideas swimming around like they belong, like it's right. You're above something so rude!

But you're not above touching yourself in the same bed.

In your humble defense, you need this. You really need this, or you're going to scream and drag yourself on the ground like a bitch in heat. Panties are swiped aside with great haste, both hands quickly darting for the crux of your fire. It takes literally no effort for you to be able to slide two fingers into yourself, then three, trying to roll your clit in the best angle at the same time. It's clumsy, hurried, and unfortunately, fruitless. Instead of relieving you of this insurmountable heat, all it does is incense you further- Wishing it was more, better, bigger.

Wishing it was Vesper that's fucking your little body the way he pleases.

A whimper almost makes it past your clenched teeth.

Beside you, there's sudden movement. A large tail swatting back and forth -Wagging?- While Vesper's brows furrow and his breathing hastens rhythmically, like he's sniffing. When you halt, mortified, so does his stirring.

Idiot.

What a bright idea. As if the King of Lust wouldn't feel your desire right next to him.

Childish irritation settles in you as you sit on your own stewing arousal, sulking. Until a loud rumble jolts you, that is. After a pause of stunted blinking, you put two and two together.

While the demonlord may be fast asleep, a part of him is clearly active. Gaze falling to Vesper's abdomen, his sizeable second mouth can be seen parted, greedily flicking a fat tongue over sharp chops. It pants, a dopey sort of smile, muscle lolling as it very easily detects some poor horny sap nearby.

Or, maybe it recognizes you already. This certainly isn't your first meeting with Vesper's second mouth.

Amused, getting a couple of nasty ideas, you smile at the organ. " Hello there... " You whisper to it.

It doesn't react too much to the sound of your voice, although gleefully wets its lips and chuffs, waiting. You're sure it'll settle back down given enough time.

It's just a matter of ignoring it.

...

......

Fuck it.

Guilty eyes glance from Vesper's peacefully resting complexion to the shifting mouth beneath, and you gulp, self-control falling victim to rabid want. Again.

Slowly, silently, you wriggle out of your undergarments, keeping your breath in check as you move to straddle Vesper's abdomen. Given the size difference, and he seems to plump in a couple areas, you have a difficult time stretching your legs enough to encompass his waist.

Little does it matter, as you don't even get to sit before that muscle has already slapped itself onto your soaked cunt with a decidedly loud PLAP. Cosmic luck alone prevented you from moaning immediately. Vesper turns his face, then settles once more.

This might have been a bad idea.

The mouth is merciless on you, drool slathered on your tights, ass and belly as it gluttonously slurps at you, making lurid sounds you hope to whatever's out there won't wake the King. Terrible idea or not, it's well worth the trouble, because it's exactly the type of pressure you need to get off.

A sweet sigh makes it past your lips when shaky legs lower, having to brace your palms firmly on each side of the bed when the mouth starts smooching tenderly at your lips. How... Sweet. Cute.

Then, suddenly, it latches on. Literally. Its size allows the organ to wrap around your groin easily, applying an all-encompassing suction delicious enough to have you rolling your eyes and jerking your hips forward, nerve endings frying on a pan. God fuck yes, you didn't know it could do that!

An orgasm approaches fast, likely due to how long you've been waiting for it, building up tension. As sensation makes your lower body jerk and tense, shaky legs press you harder against that hungry maw, almost nicking yourself with bold teeth. It feels wonderful. Delightful.

Even asleep, only Vesper can make you feel this good. It's almost too funny a concept to be true.

Nothing halts the flow of keens and gasps you offer when it pauses its slurping to shove that roving muscle into your pussy, flirting with your entrance a little before feeding you more and more and more of itself, until you're groaning at the fullness. The first experimental undulation it makes is so strong that you legitimately moan out, loud and clear, dropping squarely onto Vesper and holding on for dear life as your jostled with each thrust.

You're sure you're drooling on his belly, though it hardly matters, eyelids fluttering, nonsensical pleas chanted in the dark.

" Oh fuck- Yes- Please please please, I need to come. Fffuck, I need to come... "

You're so close! It's right there, you can't wait to get licked and sucked as you ride it out, it'll be so-

" Mm, why didn't you say so? "

You don't even get to have a moment of shame when realization dawns. Large hands grab onto your hips and screw you onto the demonlord's tongue hard enough to make you see stars, the movement in your walls so frantic that you have no choice but to howl in bliss before a single excuse could flow past your parted lips.

And all you can do is flail and cry in overstimulation when Vesper continues sucking at all the arousal you can offer him.

" My Queen should want for nothing. "

His sickly magenta eyes leer at you from the darkness.

" You will come. "

It's a promise.

[inkluvs]

babes idk what i’m going through but it’s not a slay and your little finnick blurb thingys bring me so much joyyy 😭😭😭 i don’t even know what im requesting but just more finnick thoughts

stop it ily tysm <3 here r some hcs / thoughts andd if something doesn’t make sense for the universe just assume its modern! skfjsjf

>> finnick runs warm and during the summer he sleeps without a shirt on so he’s basically like ur own heater <3 a plus is that if ur cold especially during the colder months he’d hold u flush against human at some point during the night he’d end up half on top of u <3

>> he also defo needs white noise or something to fall asleep because he’s so used to having the waves crashing onto the shore in the background? maybe just a fan or something just for the noise <3 but i think when the fan doesn’t work or just when both of u r too tired to turn it on, u breathing has the same affect as white noise for him <3

>> this is oddly out of place but like. a vision of watching the sunrise with him is coming to me right now <3 maybe he woke up from a nightmare or maybe he just intended to go out fishing n he ended up sitting on the steps of ur porch overlooking the beach a little too long. so u join him. half asleep and searching for his body heat with a blanket splayed over your shoulders and you lay on him, watching the sky burst with red and orange and shift until only the sun is reflecting off of the waves <3

>> i will never ever ever get over finnick and his knit sweater imagine him and his closet full of knit sweaters that only really make an appearance during the colder months but he just looks so soft in them u can’t help but want to squeeze him <3

>> i don’t think finnick is a coffee guy in the sense that he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel? he’s definitely more of a tea person n he’d make u a mug whenever he wants one n he’d put a little honey in yours to make it sweet <3 he’d defo make u coffee if u wanted some though

>> he’d get u a little sweet treat or present every time he stops by the market <3 a bag of candy or some banana bread or a danish or some earrings really whatever reminds him of u in the moment <3 i think it’d get to a point where even the storekeepers would know it’s for u like “this is for that partner of yours yeah? i have this pastry that i saved for them”

ok that’s it thank u for this babe i hope this is ok <3 ps i’m writing this right before i go to bed so none of it is proof read sorry LMAO <3

[lululandd]

mutual;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1.3k+

warnings: stalking, drugging

note: i have nothing planned for the rest of the story so please bear with me and maybe go on this adventure together :3 (also on AO3)

summary: “it wasn’t supposed to make you sick, love.” he sighed as he knelt down, “just wanted to make you sleep.”

you woke up in annoyance that night, seeing that it was still dark outside when you opened your eyes. you had went so far as to order carb heavy food for dinner earlier, finishing it off with some medicine to hopefully, finally, at long last, get a good night’s sleep.

and yet here you are, eyes wide open in the dead of night. it had been a rough couple of weeks, your mind running circles and staying alert every night, leaving you irritable and unable to focus or function during the day.

getting some of your senses back as you lie flat on your back—staring at the ceiling contemplating all the good night’s sleep you had before all this happened—you shivered and realised something’s wrong with your body. you felt chilly, and when you touched your arm it felt damp. bile quickly came up the back of your throat when you tried to sit up, your eyes widening as a rush of adrenaline flows through you, giving you enough panic and energy to get out of bed.

making it only to the sink, you thank yourself for even being able to hold it back that long and not hurling everything out on the floor.

bracing yourself on the counter, you start to wonder what you ate that could possib—

click.

what was that?

you hunched lower towards the sink, expelling what looked like the rest of your dinner. the sound of your front door being opened and closed made your mind race and your nausea worse, coughing spit and phlegm into the sink. your hands shook as you turned the tap, all your energy spent on heaving and keeping yourself upright. large beads of sweat rolled down your temple as you watched the water swirl, shuddering as you feel the back of your shirt sticking to your skin.

mentally, you want to fight off the intruder. physically? you’re lucky to even be vertical right now. staring at the running water, you wish and hope it’s just a robber.

you wobbled towards the toilet—your legs felt like it would fold like a cheap umbrella if you stood any longer—and lifted the plastic seat before kneeling in front of it, bracing both sides of the bowl, the coldness from the tiles and the porcelain bringing some relief on your burning skin.

the bathroom door opened wider and something big stepped into the room with you.

“my bag is in the hallway. there’s—“ you dry heaved, “—cash in it. i haven't seen your face.”

“allright?” the man spoke. 

“pl—“ nausea took hold again before you could speak. you chose to just wave and look away. but his footsteps came closer and closer, forcing you to screw your eyes shut to avoid seeing him entirely.

“offended you thought i was here for money.” he drawled, his deep and gruff voice sounding oddly calm. “im worried.”

your whole body jolted, involuntarily opening your eyes and turning your face towards him. through your tear filled eyes you could see a hulking dark shape of a man with a skull printed balaclava for a face.

“please just take the money,” you begged and sniffled, limp hand pointing at the general direction of where your valuables would be on the other side of the wall.

“the food wasn’t supposed to make you sick, love.” he sighed as he knelt down next to you, “just wanted to make you sleep.”

he helped hold your hair up as you threw up pure acid this time, making you cough and sputter harder into the bowl. his other hand holds your forehead, steadying you as you swayed. it brought you a sense of troubled comfort, being helped by a stranger that broke into your home. 

seeing you no longer have anything in your system to force back out, he gently picked you up from the floor. you feebly try to push away from him—like a sickly wet spaghetti trying to push a concrete wall—as he makes his way to your room.

he had put you down on your bed and made his way towards your armoire when you realised something that made your body sit still.

your room was still dark. hell, the whole flat was practically dark. the only other source of true light other than the streetlamps shining through your curtains was from the opened bathroom door. there wasn't any hesitation in his steps when he brought you in. no glancing around or fumbling on his part.

you could only watch him in muted horror as he bent over your armoire, immediately opening the drawer that holds your home clothes. “you’ve been here before.” you half whispered.

“couple times, yeah.” he nonchalantly admitted as he rifled through your clothes, grabbing shirts and moving it closer to his face before putting them back and doing it again with another.

you wildly look around the room, wondering if you could outrun him. no, no, not through the door of course, he was closer to it than you are, but the window, yes, the window. that’s closer to you than it is to him. you eyed the window, prepping all the steps you would need to do before you could flung yourself out of it. if you’re fast enough, and quiet enough, you coul—

he straightened his back at that exact moment and turned towards you with one of your favourite shirts in his hands. you saw the peeling glitter font shimmered for a fraction of a second before he dropped it in your lap.

he then turned around and stepped away, giving you what little privacy he could while still keeping you close.

you changed at a sluggish pace, keeping your eye on his back the whole time with the perfectly rational fear that he’ll turn around, catching you mid change; as if you could do anything if he did.

thankfully he didn’t.

being dry felt nice. you’re still shivering a little and you felt like you’ve just swallowed an acorn after running a marathon, but at least you’re dry and no longer cold and sticky. you spent what little freedom you didn’t know you had left to watch his broad back instead of telling him you’re done. now that you have some space and a little energy to think, you wonder if you’ve seen him anywhere before; wracking your brain to try and remember if maybe you recognise his silhouette or imposing shape from somewhere. would paying more attention to your surroundings help? do you need to remember who you’ve seen and where you’ve seen them? where does the line for caution stop and paranoia begins? 

you didn’t even notice him turning around and walking towards you, you gaze empty as you keep thinking about all the little things you should’ve noticed, how big of a mistake it was to not pay attention to large men, how—

a soft touch on your forehead snapped you out of your thoughts, the back of his hand reaching out to feel your temperature. the gesture felt so loving and familiar that you involuntarily closed your eyes, his touch on your scorching skin made the discomfort and ache a little more bearable. 

but relief was cut short by a sharp prick on the side of your neck, your hand flying up towards the source of the pain to catch it but finding nothing.

something thin and shiny on his lowering hand caught your attention as your vision blurred and the edges darken. “wha—”

“don’t fight it.” he cuts you off as you try to speak, his voice commanding you from far away. you could only watch as the gleaming material disappeared into his clothes. 

for the first time that night you voluntarily looked up towards his face, but he pushed you down on the bed and covered your eyes before you could remember anything worthwhile.

it’s getting increasingly harder to stay awake, mumbling something to him you couldn’t even remember as your eyelids get heavier; lashes fluttering onto his palms everytime you blink.

you could feel his breath on the side of your face, but when he spoke to you it sounded faint, as if from even further away.

“sleep well.”

even in your barely conscious state you could hear the smile in his voice.

[denkilightning]

this all makes it even better :))) also knowing charles anger issues, him being ready to insult even his own family, slamming desks, physically blocking his escape, and yelling at al (he was ready to do so at a ball full of people he mustve been even worse in private) if charles didnt like a concept of something alastair wouldnt have dared to do it or talk about it in anything but negative light

which makes you wonder if alastair hasnt learnt about the 'charlotte cheated with gideon' from him, or at least if hes heard him repeat it

especially since as far as i remember, alastair doesnt bully people for their families but strictly for their own vulnerabilities (james' eyes, thomas' height, mathew being mathew)

which if he did learn from charles, it would not only make very unfortunate sense, it would also close everything in a horrific circle

hi btw at the latest (1900 i.e. before 1901) alastair and charles met when al was 16 and charles was 21. as in al would be a high school junior/ in year 10/11 writing gces and charles would be in fucking college. and theres a very high chance they met even earlier. *points at alastair and shakes the entire fucking cast of tlh* that is not a bad person that is a grooming victim who was still in relationship with his abuser at the start of the series!! not even mentioning his fucking father!!! what the actual fuck!!! at the start of the series that is a 19 year old That Is Still A Child. what the actual fuck