#. · ✦ ❪ … ❫ one creature’s need and another’s response › answered.

[korcariis]

𝕿ag archive . 

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ fate has already staked its claim on us  ›  arc / origins. 

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ neither a monster nor a martyr  ›  arc / witch hunt. 

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ these violent delights have violent ends  ›  arc / the last court.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ none shall be untouched by the fires above  ›  arc /  inquisition.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ found between the folds of history over and over again  ›  writing.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ rumors of god run through your dark blood  ›  character study.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ innocent. ruthless. bloodstained  ›  introspection.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ at the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman  ›  reflection.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ a lowly combination of the divine / the bestial  ›  wardrobe.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it  ›  aesthetic.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ›   self-promo.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ our wishes bend the statues of the gods  ›  promo.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ one creature’s need and another’s response ›  answered.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ let's pick the truth that we believe in like a bad religion  ›  prompts.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ hunger: a feeling and an ache. want of want  ›  desires.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ feeling the love for my witchy wife in this chili’s tonight  › ooc.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ thinking about the immortality of the crab › queue.

.  · ✦ ❪ … ❫ what are you doing in my swamp??!!  ›  crack.

[bluerosefox]

Invites

"OMA, kill meeeee" Ellie, aka Wrath complained as she allowed her head to 'thunk' on the cafeteria table in the Watchtower she phased into in order to sit in next to a boy dressed in red, yellow, and green.

"Aren't you already halfway there?" Came Robin's response as he took a drink of his water, eyeing his teammate with a raised eyebrow, though it was difficult to tell with his mask in place.

"OMA?" Asked Superboy on the other side of the boy.

"Shush you." She said towards Robin before answering Superboy "Oh my Ancients, it's like OMG but like for us ghosties."

"Tt" "Oh!" Came both their responses.

"So..." began Superboy after a few minutes of silence between them as he looked at Ellie like a confused puppy "Why?"

Ellie groaned and just stayed slumped on the table as she said "Da's dumb Observants council is hosting another dumb ball to try to get him or me hitched again, and like always I'm forced to attend because I'm Da's heir. We both hate it with a passion, most are just stuck up, power hungry, social climbers trying to get into our pants for the royal titles... Espcially if they become our Forevermores."

"Tt, why not just get rid of them? Or simply have your Father dismiss the ball." Robin said, his eye twitching in annoyance just at the thought of it. A ball sounded even more annoying than the gala parties he is made to go to.

"Sounds stressful... Also Forevermores?" Superboy asked, he was always curious of Ellie and her ghost culture but never knew what could be asked or not, he had been warned to never ask how a ghost died after all and that question is normally asked in every ghost hunter video on the internet.

"Forevermores is our term for the ONE. The one and only we will ever be with. Till our final end takes us we are always to be with them only. We are core creatures and bonding on that level is like sacred, we don't rush into bonding like that though. But everyone in the Realms hopes to be either become mine or Da's. And the ball is their best chance at meeting us on neutral grounds." Ellie explained as best as she could for Jon, it was hard trying to explain the type of level a Forevermore was "And to answer you Robin, Da can't. The Observants, despite how annoying they can get with their dumb demands, are part of the system council for the Realms, they're sadly needed to keep things in check hence their name. Da and his friends are still trying to find a loophole to get rid of them though. They were only created when they put Tyrant King to sleep and they still sadly have some backings from other powerful ghosts in the Realms, even an Ancient or two and in order to fully dismiss them we need all Ancients on board. And the ball keeps a lot of ghosts, especially the more powerful ones, errr I guess happy? Most just use it to gossip on neutral grounds, others just like to dance, network, or other junk like that. Basically, when it's not about them trying to get mine or Da's hand in ghost marriage, it's fun so Da can't dismiss it, it'll ruffle to many feathers."

"Wow..." "Tt." Were the response from her teammates.

"Yeah. Da really isn't happy because someone suggested inviting powerful people from a few Mortal Realms this time. Somehow it got approved. So... here." She said as she reached into her own chest, phasing her hand in, and pulled out two green envelopes and placed them on the table in front of them. Both boys stared in surprise to see their names written in dark purple ink and the stylized DP on it.

"CW let me invite you guys personally. Everyone else should be getting theirs in about a few minutes complete with a blaze of green fire and spooky vibes." Ellie said with a strained smile, both happy to invite them but also dreading the questions she'll no doubt have to answer once the invites were sent.

[augiewrites]

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,��� he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them. 

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

[springtyme]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐝 ♡

Spencer being a fish dad is so important and special to me.

Spencer Reid x f!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer comes home to find you sleeping on his couch and suddenly he can't help but ask you to take the next step in your relationship.

word count: 2.0k

You contemplate if you should knock again or wait longer for a response, but with the silence that followed your first knock, you feel pretty sure that neither will produce a new result. You had really hoped that Spencer would be home. You could, of course, just have called him and checked, but you had thought that surprising him would be nice.

It’s early Friday evening and you were supposed to spend your night with some of your girlfriends but the plans fell through at the last minute, which you secretly had been quite relieved about. You have been feeling exhausted lately and all you really want is to share a lazy evening with your boyfriend.

As it becomes clear that Spencer isn’t home, you reach into your purse, rummaging around until you get your hands on your keychain, which now includes the spare key that Spencer had given you a few months back. You have not used it yet, and you feel a little nervous about doing so now, not wanting to invade his private space, but he had given you the key and insisted that you use it whenever you needed or wanted to.

Turning the key in the lock, you push the door open and step inside. The familiar scent of Spencer’s apartment surrounds you, making you feel instantly at home. Toeing off your shoes, and dumping your keys back into your purse, you leave them by the door and make your way further into the apartment. Your sock clad feet padding softly across the living room carpet.

You step over to the aquarium, where Spencer’s fish dart around, seemingly happy to see you, or at least you like to imagine so. You smile at them, automatically searching for your favorite, the one guppy with a slightly lighter tail and fins than the others. It’s the only one you can single out from the others, who you have lovingly named Finn, which quickly turned into Finley, and which Spencer had found quite amusing.

“Hey Finley,” you whisper, tapping very, very lightly on the glass. The guppy swims closer, as if in response to your voice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of connection with the little creature. “Where’s your dad at, huh, bud?” you ask, knowing that you won’t get an answer but still wanting to fill out the silence in the room.

You make your way over to the couch, and you can’t help but smile as you take in the sight of the pile of books scattered on the coffee table.

You notice a familiar book lying on the coffee table. It’s one you had been reading together, taking turns reading chapters to each other. You pick it up, running your fingers over the pages and feeling a pang of love and longing in your chest.

You settle onto the couch, tucking your legs underneath you and opening the book to where you last left off. As you begin to read, you can almost hear Spencer’s voice in your mind, soft and soothing, reading the words with a warmth that always makes you feel at peace. The sound of his voice, the way he’ll pause at certain moments to make a point or emphasize a passage, it all comes flooding back to you. You can almost see him sitting beside you, his eyes focused on the pages, a small smile playing on his lips.

Lost in the world of the book, you continue to read, the words transporting you to another place and time. The gentle ticking of the clock on the wall fades into the background as you immerse yourself in the story, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you.

But as the minutes pass, you start to feel the heaviness of sleep creeping in. Your eyelids grow heavy, and before you know it, you're drifting off, the book slipping from your grasp as you succumb to the pull of slumber.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the soft cushions of the couch, a sense of contentment washing over you as you let yourself relax completely. The last thing you hear before you drift off completely is the sound of the fish tank bubbling softly in the background, a soothing lullaby that carries you off to sleep.

· · · · ·

As Spencer turns the key in the lock, he feels a sense of relief wash over him. It has been a long day at work, and all he wants is to come home to the comfort of his own space and decompress, ideally with you, but he guess he’ll have to settle for just a few texts, maybe a phone call if he’s lucky.

He knows you have plans and he doesn’t want to disturb you, but he really misses you, despite having seen you only a few days ago. If it was up to Spencer he would see you every day.

As he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket, he notices a pair of familiar shoes by the door that definitely aren’t his and a smile tugs at his lips, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest at the thought of you being here. The hardwood floor creaks softly under his feet as he makes his way further into the apartment, following the gentle scent of your perfume that softly lingers in the air.

As he makes his way into the living room, he can’t help but smile even wider at the sight he’s met with. You, fast asleep on his couch, the book he had been reading with you clutched in your hand. He watches as you breathe softly, the rise and fall of your chest a comforting sight amidst the chaos of his day. His heart swells with affection at the sight of you, so peaceful and serene in your slumber.

He can’t help but admire the way the soft glow of the lamp illuminates your features, casting a warm light over your face.

Quietly setting down his bag, he moves closer. His steps careful as to not wake you as he crosses the room, and sits down beside you. He feels how his heart skips a beat as he marvels at how beautiful and content you look, so utterly at ease in his home.

He leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep and Spencer feels a surge of tenderness wash over him as he sits himself down on the floor next to you. He settles back against the side of the couch, content to just sit and watch you for a while longer. Finding you here was the best surprise ever.

As he gazes at you, he can’t help but think about how lucky he is to have you in his life. You bring him so much joy, so much light, that he can’t imagine his world without you in it. He’s so glad that you felt comfortable enough to come in, even when he’s not home.

He has never felt like this with anyone before, where he feels so at ease with someone else in his space, and who seemingly enjoys being with him despite his quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knows that you understand him in a way that few others do, and he cherishes that connection more than words can express. It’s a feeling so deep that he can’t quite put it into words, despite his proficiency with language.

After a few minutes of simply sitting in the quiet of the moment, with the soft hum of the aquarium pump in the background and the gentle sound of your chest rising and falling as you sleep, as the only sounds in the room, Spencer brings his hand to your cheek, gently stroking the soft skin of your cheekbone, his touch light and tender. He can’t help but smile at the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, even in your sleep.

Spencer watches as you begin to stir, a soft smile gracing your lips as you wake, your eyes starting to softly flutter open. As your gaze meets his, a look of confusion quickly gives way to recognition and a warm smile spreads across your face.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

“Hey,” Spencer responds, his own smile widening. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah,” you reply, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a contented sigh. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in. My plans got canceled and I missed you, so I thought I would wait for you to get home.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Spencer replies, his heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad you did.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, savoring the moment of closeness between you. “I love having you here with me, always.”

You smile at him. “That’s lucky cause I love being here,” you say, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re always welcome here,” Spencer says, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

“Careful what you say,” you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I might just take you up on that offer and never leave.”

Spencer feels a surge of warmth and longing at your words, his heart full with love for you. The question he has wanted to ask you for a while, but never found the right moment to, suddenly feels like it’s pressing against his chest, demanding to be spoken. He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and meets your gaze with unwavering determination.

“Well, that wouldn’t really be such a bad thing,” he begins, his voice soft yet resolute. “I know this might be a bit sudden, but...” he trails off, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves wash over him. But he pushes through, taking your hands in his and looking into your eyes with sincerity. “I was wondering if maybe... you would consider moving in with me? I love having you here, and I just can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I want us to create a home together. You obviously don’t have to answer now, and we don’t need to live here if you don’t want to. We could live at your place, or find somewhere new if that is what you want. I just want to be with you, in whatever way makes you happy,” he says, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air between you.

Spencer’s heart pounds in his chest as he awaits your answer, hoping beyond hope that you feel the same way he does, that you want to take the next step in your relationship together.

Your eyes have turned wide as you look at him with surprise and Spencer holds his breath, waiting for your response. But soon your shocked face turns into a bright smile, and tears start to glisten in your beautiful eyes. “I would love that, Spence” you say softly

Spencer’s face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to kiss him, sealing your promise with a tender touch of your lips. Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. He feels a surge of joy and relief wash over him at your answer.

You both sit there in a bubble of happiness, basking in the warmth of your love for each other. “I love you,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I love you too,” you reply, pressing your forehead against his. “And I would love to live here with you, Spence.”

He feels like his heart is going to burst with happiness at your words, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love for you. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone who not only accepts him for who he is but also wants to build a future together with him.

“I can’t wait to have you here with me, every day,” Spencer whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

Spencer pulls you in for another kiss, his heart overflowing with love for you. And as you snuggle closer to him, he couldn’t be happier to have found someone who loves him so deeply and completely.

You both sit there, reveling in the warmth of the moment, knowing that this is just the beginning of a new chapter in your relationship. As the realization sinks in that you will soon be sharing a home together.

[bitchfitch]

ok imagine this. You live in a kingdom and the king dies by choking on his own spit or whatever, and the only heir to the throne is the kings step son that his wife had by fucking a bull, and who was locked away in the giant murder maze, ok. Normal stuff so far.

Now Imagine that rafter the kings death a new non minotaur ruler was chosen to be king. A reasonable decision given that the actual heir eats people and loves murder. Coronation day comes and this new king is struck by lightning so many times that there is no corpse left behind. Ok, so the gods said no to that guy, the state thinks. And so they try again.

And the next guy is gored to death by a boar seconds before he can be crowned (nobody is sure where the boar came from, probably the same place as the lightning). and the state say ok! that one was a mistake, and they're all a little sweaty now, nervously looking between eachother because they know who the gods want on the throne. They know the gods sense of humor.

So they say ok, One more! and they go and find the bravest most noble hero and ask that He be king, and he is gored to death by the bull that fathered the prince. And they all sigh and start planning how to get the giant murder monster out of the giant murder maze.

And shenanigans do occur but they occur within the walls of the murder maze until Finally the prince emerges and everyone collectively sucks in a breath between their teeth because Fuck he is hot. Big fucker with battle scars and a Lot of muscle. guy looks like he can crush a man's head in one hand.

Ok, and he's crowned king. He sits his throne and everyone expects things to immediately go to shit. That the big murder monster would start demanding sacrifices or take ultra aggressive policies or something else. But no, the big bull man is actually a really good king. Focussing on protecting his people and ensuring resources are shared between them. When one noble or another offers him riches or tries to sway him to less noble rulling styles that benefit them and not the lower classes he pops their heads like grapes in his big meaty hands.

Great King ok. Seems real unhappy but is otherwise reasonably competent and happy to delegate responsibilities to people more suited than him. Great King.

So then one day he gets this cat. Ok, it's a sphinx, the sort that tell riddles and have wings not the sort you need to put little sweaters on to keep them from getting cold. And it's from the murder maze, and it's clearly his favorite person. They mock fight a lot in the arena and multiple scholars have been hired to come up with puzzles and problems difficult enough to be entertaining to this weird cat. Ok, normal stuff.

And then you here that the cat and the king have fled the castle. Back to the murder maze for the sole reason that they both like it more than being royalty. And now that the king has a sphinx helping him the two are basically impossible to catch. So, instead of trying to catch Them the state orders as many monsters slaughtered until the king comes back to save his monsters. And the king does. and after much deliberation it is decided that the king would rule from within the maze. ok, all normal so far.

So a party is held in the King's honor and he has the sphinx (a creature you aren't sure is 100% a person) declared Queen at the party. Which, what ever, all normal.

So you go to this party this big beautiful gilded event held within the maze and by sheer chance you run into the sphinx queen. and it looks at you, and smiles and asks "Do you know of the philosopher who goes by Ligma?"

The plan with the ligma joke was that they knew this party would almost exclusively be attended by stuffy nobles who were all some level of scared of the both of them. Because they had both killed people in front of most of the folk there. Their friend, an alchemist/philosopher was also going to be in attendance. They knew she would give a funny enough answer to satisfy the 'riddle' and so would win the contest to be their heir. Aetius is a shit. It doesn't care to come up with actual riddles, they're all some level of insult or ligma style joke.

secondary edit: Reblogs are going back on bc my desire to ligma people is greater than the irritation I was dealing with + the original rb chains of this are thoroughly dead, probably.

edit: turning off reblogs bc some of y'all don't know what original content is and it's getting annoying. This was a direct summary of my OC's story but from the perspective of someone who did not see it. The sphinx's name is Aetius. Its not a woman, the minotaur is Serapis. Aetius was named queen when it and Serapis married, because as the eldest child of a queen(mother cat) it was technically legally qualified to be a queen(monarch) when it married Serapis. because the law books didn't say Anything about what kinds of queens did or did not count for that. The next step of their plan was to point out they are both male. They can't produce an heir and obviously since they're married now they would have to use the clauses regarding infertility to pick an heir.

Anyways the final step of the plan was that as soon as she gave her answer she would be crowned their heir, and then they would graphically, and publicly, gore eachother to death. so that they could death warp to the center of the maze because neither of them want to be royalty, they want to fuck nasty, be nudists, and kill stuff in the giant murder maze.

Since they died, and nobody outside the maze knew the monsters could death warp, and they already had a 100% legally named heir, they successfully legal loopholed their way out of having to be royalty.

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri

[theres-a-body-here]

If requests are open, could you do killers of your choice reacting to the new guy?

Like, the Unknown managing to lure them in by mimicking a survivor's voice

I took some creative liberty for this TW: Violence, death Characters: Trapper, Knight, Blight Male!reader mentioned

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan is working on his bear-traps in his warehouse. The realm is silent, the sounds of faint cawing and the rustling of leaves echoes through the estate.

Out of nowhere, a voice calls out

"E...van?"

He stops working immediately

That was your voice, but you'd left for a trial just a while ago

There's no way you'd be back this early

Evan sighs rubbing his temples

Maybe he's been working for way too long; starting to hear things

Before he can go back to tightening bolts, he hears it again

"Evan"

He immediately stands up, so abruptly that his chair falls over

The stomps outside, confused and a bit worried

"(Y/N)?"

He hears no response

The air is still and the hairs on his body stand stiff

Suddenly, the smell of rotting flesh and wet copper

Something was wrong

Evan notices that even the crows have stopped making sounds

Slowly, he tries to head back into the building; he needed his cleaver

He turns around to look at the entrance to the warehouse, only to see it

The Unknown was hiding, waiting for him to see it

It attacks Evan before he can react

The first thing on Evan's mind, once the Entity revives him, is to find you

The Knight - Tarhos Kovács

Tarhos was sharpening his sword in the Borgo, listening to the crackle of the fire he sat by

The peace is interrupted as a bloodcurdling scream pierces through the air

It's you, or at least it sounds like you

If Tarhos had taken the time to listen, he would've noticed how off it sounded

But he was way too panicked to think

To him, you were in danger

With sword gripped tightly, he booked it to where he heard the scream

"(Y/N)! WHERE ARE YOU, MY LOVE!?"

He's absolutely distraught

"SPEAK TO ME, (Y/N)!"

every one of his questions is answered by another screech, coming from another direction

Before he knew it, Tarhos was worn out and exhausted

It seemed that was the thing The Unknown was waiting for

Before Tarhos can even think about catching his breath, The Unknown attacks him from behind, knocking him clean off his feet

A tendril of flesh stabs into Tarhos's thigh

The Knight reacts quickly, swinging his sword and slicing the appendage through with one slice

"It...hurts... No...m-more"

It spoke in your voice, as if mocking Tarhos

His heart sunk into his chest, mind flooding with questions as to why this creature knows what you sound like

The Unknown shrieks as it feels his flesh sizzle, snapping his head around to see Alejandro pressing his hot iron into it; the rest of the Compagnia manifesting alongside him

Seeing the thing distracted, Tarhos stabs the beast through the chest

The Unknown is unnerving unaffected, pulling away before crawling away on all fours

Tarhos isn't having that, reeling his arm before throwing his sword like a makeshift spear, pinning The Unknown's hand into the ground

He grits his teeth as he stomps towards the monster, screaming at it

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY (Y/N)?!"

Durkos and Sander rush forward as well to kill the creature

The Unknown uses its axe to chop its own hand off to escape

"(y/n)... my (y/n)" it repeats mockingly as it slinks away

The Blight - Talbot Grimes

Talbot was working on his serums and elixirs when he heard your voice

"Hey....co...come over.....here"

Right off the bat, he knew it wasn't you

Talbot knows you

He knows your every scream, moan, laugh, and tone

This was something attempting to mimic that

Despite knowing whatever was calling out was trying to luring him in, he was curious to see what exactly it was

He makes his way outside, albeit apprehensively; his cane and syringe ready

The voice speaks again

"Wha...what is that...?"

It seems to be repeating something its heard previously

Were you in a trial with whatever it was?

It also seems to be getting better at mimicking you

Talbot hurries his steps to find the source of the voice

Its not long before he comes face to face with The Unknown

Talbot isn't afraid, he's downright furious

Whatever this monster was, it clearly had some contact with you

Why else would it know how you sound like?

The fight isn't pretty; both sides inflicting heavy damage on the other

In the end, The Unknown screeches as it retreats from sight, slinking away into the fog after seeing that Blight wasn't easy prey

Talbot managed to stab the syringe into the thing, acquiring a blood sample

Experimentation could wait

He needed to find you

The real you

[creepy-friday]

Hi, i really like your "life as a female proxie" post and was wondering if you could write a second one😊

Sure thing!

Life as a female Proxy /"things you love"

Warnings: blood,violence,NSFW mentions,suggestive content

It was the mundane,really.The early hours of the day,the smell of the forest,the somewhat warm funny feeling you shared with some of the other creeps,knowing you are all stuck as slaves to a tall being that lacks a face almost as much as it lacks a heart.

The respect the others had for you,some more than the others, the way some passed you and titled their heads that made the strings inside your head tighten about the fact that a faceless creature entrusted you with this responsability.

Maybe the slurs..the constant anger towards your position above the other proxies and below The Operator,it reminds you that you are being seen,that you're not a ghost or a random demon you have to hunt.

Your dreams,where numeros entities showed up,entities where Candy Pop,Jason and often LJ were present,and even if they loved to fuck with your brain,they all acknowledged your power,and sometimes even seemed to guide you to a "better world",almost as if they wanted to have you all for themselves.

The feeling of normality once every two months or so when four residents were assigned to go out to buy necessities for the mansion.Going out in public,being able to make jokes,as if roleplaying normal 9 to 5 working people.

The sex.You could ask for it,you can get it either way,your position certainly gives you this advantage even against the ethics.Not only every resident shared a human known loneliness,but you could wait for some problematic thing to happen that has to be reported to the big boss and you could blackmail any fucker into finishing you off,they can live on without any sort of punishment after that.

The power.Nothing really stops you from being a menace in the mansion.I would say that you can use Slenderman's preference to you to your advantage,but he expects you not to..but after all you're a mortal being,he would be disappointed but not surprised.Nothing stops you from ordering people around,from degrading others,from being a bitch like others chose to be.

The late nights after finishing a week old mission.The last night before heading back to the mansion is filled with a family like atmosphere,almost like all of you are siblings and teasing eachother around.

"It's fucking burnt Brian." Masky commented on the toast his friend gave to him.

"Not as burnt as your head.Quit the drugs." the brunette answered calmly."Are they even allowed?"

"Not sure.Is the witch gonna tell on us?" Masky locked eyes with you as you simply shrugged while crossing your arms.

"W-Well?Are you?" Toby asked while a tic escaped from him."Why do you care Rogers?Your burnt as well?" the white masked man asked while taking another bite.

"No.It's seems..white." he answered while looking at the piece of bread in his hand.

"Fucking idiot.." Masky facepalmed himself while Brian chuckled as you placed a reassuring hand on Toby's back.

The love.The eternal need,the awful dreadful and oh-so-terrible lust,desire,total despair to be loved,accepted and fully knowing you belong.The quiet giggles between some residents,the close bond between Masky and Hoodie,the gazes that some shared that made tension rise in the room..even between demons like us,love wins against all odds.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Sleepy Afternoons

A/N: Teehee ngl I just wrote this as a period comfort fic indulgent for myself. I hope you nerds enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

CW: AFAB reader on period, jokes of breeding, using a dragon as a heating pad, pretty much just fluff

WC:2000

Synopsis: A lazy Sunday, the perfect start to a week on your period where you'll be constantly pestered by your dragon boyfriend.

A dragon’s hoard in times long before consisted of fine jewels and immense mounds of gold, shiny objects as far as the eye could see. Whether it was stuffed in the depths of a cave or deep in the forest, a hoard barred spikes and “DO NOT ENTER” warnings; whether they were legible or not was never up to the righteous dragon’s responsibility.

Adventurers and bandits never heeded these signs of caution, getting stuck in the narrow holes meant for dragons to shimmy through or meeting their demise through puzzles and endless booby traps-- such monsters were thorough in keeping their treasure safe. Any item that caught the creatures attention could be found in their rich reservoirs, even if they were mere wave-smoothened stones from a lake, an old lover, or a prettily decked-out concubine that was too tempting not to take. 

That however, was centuries ago. Dragons, like the rest of us, must conform to modern society, technology too powerful and people too abundant to go around flying and terrorizing just to get one’s hands on a pretty penny.

Your boyfriend, once a ravenous creature with a cave of glittering gems and fine craftsmanship-- that he may or may not have maimed many blacksmiths to steal-- now resided with you in too big of a bedroom. You had argued before buying the apartment; who would need this much space? But his hoarder tendencies clearly made up for the abundance in space. Gaming consoles, silvery granola bar wrappers, aluminum dollar store trinkets, books with glittery covers-- the floor was almost unseeable with his trash and treasure mixed together. He wasn’t necessarily dirty-- in fact every item had its own spot and preferred place, which is why it killed a piece of him any time you threw away something that should not be “decorating” your shared home. 

Though as you practically took care of both of you, it was hard to keep up being the caregiver in the relationship. Especially, on your period. Sunday, what a perfect day, to realize you had a whole work week ahead of mood swings and lower abdominal pain, all mixed with the gory massacre you’d face every time you went to the bathroom. Your cramps didn’t usually come in this early of a start, but it seemed like nothing was going quite right today.

“T’s wrong, darlin’?” Your draconic, crusty-eyed boyfriend mumbled into your back. “Somethin’ hurting…?”

He had been asleep since noon, ignoring the stream of yellow shining down on him from between the cracks of the blinds. But with those poor eyes and slightly above average listening skills, he completely ignored the sun and heard your groans of pain as you curled into a ball. The aching in your lower tummy was like hellfire, crisp burning and somersaults of your organs unlike any other pain than usual. Nothing was helping, no cold rags or medicine, it was like your infinite headache and body pains were destined to consume you. 

“C’mon baby answer me, I wanna help..” He pouted again.

“Just my stomach..” You downplayed, not sure if you could handle his frantic coddling if he realized you’re period started. The last time you made the mistake of doing so, you had pads stacked to the brim in your bathroom cabinets and tampons in your closets, the mass shoplifting endeavor of his creating even less space in your home. Well, atleast you were set for the next fifty-seven or so cycles.

 “I just need to rest n’ I’ll be fine, soon…” 

Another wave of pain came through, head ringing as soft nails raked up and down your sweating back. 

‘When will this be over,’ you wondered. 

Maybe that horrible breeding endeavor your boyfriend was always obsessed with was worth it if it meant you wouldn’t have to suffer through this for nine months. Yeah, just nine months of morning sickness and bloating and growing a whole dragon-human parasite inside of you. But hey… the making part wouldn’t be too bad, and atleast you would be crotch-pain free. 

Man, now the pain was really talking through you.

“Yer period, right?” Your dragon wonders, scratching the back of his head. He’s more awake now, and you wish he was still passed out grabbing onto you, even through the sticky sweat from his body heat. “I’m sorry baby…I know it hurts. What’you want me to do?”

“How’d you even know..” You groan, almost annoyed at how keen he is. Next thing you’d know he’d be shoving some pretty pawn shop jewelry for you to hold to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t think.. You want to know. And well there’s the obvious, I noticed you changed the bed covers.”

Oh lord, was he talking about that split tongue-nose smell-ability ‘dragon thing’ again? Could your embarassment get any worse?

“Does that mean you’ve… EVERY TIME? Every time you knew?”

He sheepishly fell into the new sheets of warmth, those dark eyebrows lifted in innocence.

“Sometimes before you knew, I think.”

Officially, you wish your boyfriend was asleep again. Maybe you’d just strangle him to end this mind-numbing conversation. 

“What can I do?” He repeated. “Get you more pads?” 

“No.” You shut him down as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“What then? A snack, more pillows? Now’s the time to be babied, you know. Unless you’d be okay with me coming to work with you--” 

You groaned, partly to shut him up and to vocalize the squeezing, contracting inside of you. 

His clawed fingers came to cradle your belly, right below your belly button on your pelvic muscle. He rubbed, just gently, back and forth with a slight pressure as your head buried into the sheets beneath you. 

“Just this.. is fine..” You murmur, feeling hot, humid breath exhale against your neck, emerald green slits baring into your twisted expression. He was watching you, the way your body reacted, the little signals of discomfort. 

You heard a slight flutter of his wings as they adjusted, his body fitting against yours like a puzzle piece; it was nice to be the small spoon again, rather than cradling your needy dragon lover like a cocoon as he so often desired. 

The dragon slowly pushed a leg between your bunched knees that stuck together, getting easier access to your tummy. His palm was so warm, as the torso flushed behind you kept a reassuring prresence. You almost turned on your back to get his palm farther against your stomach, the slight pressure and warm temperature soothing the ache in your lower back and groin. 

“You know… I could always breed ya, then you wouldn’t have to--” 

“Don’t try to convince me right now.” you spat, turning into him as his hand worked magic, the other brushing hair off of your neck and cheek. “That’s not an option, especially right now.”

“Well, at the very least I can make you feel good. Might ease up some of the pain, yeah?” He laid back down to lean in closer. 

You sighed; he clearly didn’t understand the discomfort and embarrassment that his oh-so keen intimacy would bring you right now. You loved the sentiment, and maybe you’d be up for it if you weren’t solely thinking about your physical misery, but you barely had the fortitude to look back toward him. 

Your dragon buried his flared nose into the top of your head, lined against you like a perfectly shaped heat blanket. 

“You wouldn’t even have to do anything.. I’ll do whatever makes ya feel better.” His other hand snakes beneath your hip against the bed mattress, pulling you back toward his body even closer, if possible. The warm, spiked fingers tapping alongside your pelvic bone made your skin spark, your lower stomach buzzing with numbed pain and a fullness that made you want to sleep for another week. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” He frowns. “Your face.. You look so, uncomfortable.”

“Wow, thanks.” You jab, feeling a heated tail slither up your knee, to your thigh. It almost flicked in apology. “Mm.. Just stay my heating pillow and I’ll be fine.” 

“I can do that.” The confidence in his voice worries you, knowing he’ll do an unnecessary load of more than you asked for. Your fetal position was gently yanked free, a pounced creature on your back as you’re forced onto your stomach. “I’ll be the best spiky heating pad you’ve ever seen.”

The strong, scaled forearms of your draconic spouse come to wrap around your hips, a burning touch ringing from his skin, worming his way beneath your comfortable pajama pants and shirt, skin on skin as his body temperature rises to accommodate your desires. His forearms seem to ripple against you, fingers tickling your sides as his legs trap against your thighs from above, most if not every length of his body pulsating against yours like a live, scaly cocoon intent on making you his personal plush, and he your sweet, warm monster. 

“Feel better baby…” He kissed at the nape of your neck, sandpapery forked tongue popping out to lick away your sweat. “It’ll be over soon.. I’ma make it all better.”

You leaned deeper into the stuffy mattress sheets, the pressure on your abdomen welcomly encouraged as you push as far as possible into his fiery hands.

“I’m betting on it.” You muffle into the pillows, squirming your hips against his his body, warm chest and carved quadriceps surrounding you. The slight pressure of his inner thighs against your hips was welcoming, his mounted position atop of you seemingly odd to an outsider-- but you didn’t care how weird it might’ve looked, as the calm of your gutted abdomen took over. 

You yawned into the side of the pillow as you turned your head, lifting your hips just a little to soak in the heat radiating from behind you. 

“Awe’d, so sleepy huh? Need a little nap?” the dragon behind you poked. 

Who knew a murderous, millenium-old dragon would be sweet-talking you so gently-- just a few centuries ago he was murdering travelers for stumbling just a few steps too close to his prized hoard. 

“But I just woke up.” You protest, upset at the sleepiness of the afternoon that was rubbing off from your draconic lover on you. “Got too much to do, can’t lay in bed all day..like you.” 

You groan into the pillow as a wave of cramps hit you, only slightly set ajar by the gentle massaging of the skin above your pelvic bone. 

“Hrmm.” Your boyfriend thinks, shoving his warmly snout against your neck. “I guess it’s unfortunate that I’m not going to be letting you go then. Not allowed to get up until you feel better.” 

You laugh, taking one of your dragon’s toasty hands to your chest to hold onto. 

“I’ll be here all week, then.”

It was here you felt the safest, the warmest, the most vulnerable and easily devourable-- well, thankfully dragon’s didn’t particularly have a taste for the flesh of humans. Shutting your eyes, you let the guttural ‘hrmm’s’ of your dragon lull you to thoughtlessness. 

“If that’s what it takes..” He presses a deep kiss close to your forehead, relishing in the sweet scent of your hair. The huffs from his nose tickle the back of your ears, such petrichor warmth and humidity so reminiscent of past lazy mornings. “You’re not going anywhere, my diamond.”

[dreamofjoys]

𝐈 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏

— summary: 5W1H of twst characters eating you up

— characters involved: leona kingscholar, malleus draconia x female reader

— cw: oral sex (female receiving), public sex, fem reader is clothed in leona's part, face fucking, fingering, malleus has long forked tongue, dubcon (but reader is implied to be enjoying and loving every moment), jealous malleus (kinda possessive)

— a/n: my god this is like my secondary school english class brainstorming answers for my essays lol (but that's literally what im doing rn so...)

what happened

leona had you pushed against the wall, lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders while he lifts up your skirt, using a finger to slide your panties to the side, revealing your pretty pussy to him. he wasted no time diving in to the feast in front of him, making sure to give a long and slow lick before tongue fucking you. his grip on your ass is tight, making sure to push your cunt to him so that he could shove his tongue deeper into you and get a taste of you at your most sacred place. you could only grab onto his mane and moan his name like a slut, grinding onto his tongue shamelessly and begging him for more. if it gets too much, you wouldn't be able to do anything since he had you pressed against the wall. between him, you and the wall, you are definitely the weakest. so just present yourself to him and let him devour you till he is satisfied

where did it happened

in an empty classroom

when did it happened

2 hours after potionology class ends

why did it happened

he was held back for 2 hours by crewel just to take make up lessons for the ones that he missed. his stomach was already growling like crazy because ruggie was sick today and didn't get him lunch. after crewel left, he was preparing to leave too until you came in looking for him. with his stomach growling like a mad beast, he needed something to satisfy his hunger now

who was involved

it's obviously just you and leona. his not a big fan of sharing his private life with other people, except for you of course

how did it happened

the moment he sees you, he just asked if he could eat you there and then. you were confused, thinking that he wanted to do it at his room, so you agreed, and he immediately started feasting on you in that empty classroom

bonus scene

"a-ah~ leo, wh-what if hnng someone comes in?" you asked your lion boyfriend who is currently still obsessing over your cunt, lapping on all your juices while you sit on his shoulders and take everything that he gives. leona hums in response, the act alone sends waves of vibration into your cunt. he doesn't bother replying. instead, he hoist you up higher with one arm while the other snakes under your skirt. he inserts two fingers to join his tongue in assaulting your poor cunt, making your gasp as he rips out what seems to be your 6th orgasm of the session. "wa-wait, i don't think i can come anymore-" another knot released, your essence spilling all over leona's face, not that he mind. it doesn't seem like he plan on stopping soon, so you could only hope and pray that no one sees the both of you in this state..

what happened

malleus had you pressed in a mating position. your knees were pressed onto your chest as the fae prince pins both of your wrist down at the back of your knees with merely just one hand. your clothes were already discarded on the ground, exposing your bare form to the dark creature. malleus makes sure to take a good look at your pink puffy pussy that was already leaking in anticipation. he chuckles, already excited about the next sequence of event. pushing a finger in, you moan in delight when you felt his sharp claw grazing over your sensitive spot. once he confirmed your sweet delicate spot, he removes his finger from your cunt, swirling his tongue around his stained finger to get a taste of you. it wasn't long before he starts tongue fucking you, earning a scream from you

where did it happened

at diasomnia's lounge room, on the couch

when did it happened

midnight, around 12am, after most students had went to sleep

why did it happened

he was jealous at one of the jokes that his dorm member made so he felt territorial and wanted to mark you as his

who was involved

you and malleus..... and maybe lilia who has super hearing and can hear whatever that you guys are doing from miles away..

how did it happened

you were just casually sitting on the couch chatting away with a random year 1 diasomnia student about the school romance. the student had made a joke about how he would date you if you weren't dating his housewarden. unfortunately for the poor soul, malleus had just stepped into the lounge room and had heard everything. the student started sweating profusely before apologising and running back to his room. you noticed that malleus was just quietly staring at you, so you awkwardly stood up and offered to make some ice cream for him. it was then he step in closer to you and started tugging at the ends of your skirt..

bonus scene

it's unbelievable how this man can just spilt you apart with just his tongue. malleus's long forked tongue had proved to come in handy as it nestles itself deep inside your cunt, giving kitten kisses to your cervix. your walls were pulsating on his tongue, and malleus wanted to laugh when he was reminded of the events earlier. who would be able to make your little hole gush like a waterfall? who would be able to make your little hole open up like a needy slut? who would be able to see you in this state? only him. malleus is the only person who can make you feel this way, and see you in such a vulnerable state. "ma-mal! im comin-" and just like that, you milked on his tongue like a good little girl he expects you to be. he retreats back his tongue, licking his lower chin that was stained with your fluids before swallowing them down. malleus gives you a toothy grin when he noticed your red face. strong heavy arms lifts you up as he carries you bridal style, gathering you in his embrace. "beloved, we should continue this back in our room. don't worry, i will make you feel so good that you wouldn't think about anything or anyone, except for me."

[crypt-keepers-den]

A request of a tav having an abusive ex and astarion finding out. Much fluff please AHHH I LOVED YOUR LAST FIC OF ASTARION KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK

[Astarion x reader]

warnings: Mentions of abuse and unhealthy relationship situations (swearing in this one), trauma bonding for Tav and Aster enjoy <3

The fire pit crackles as you throw another log onto the dying pile, your thoughts are swirling in a vicious tidal pool, your stomach churns, unbeknownst to you a pair of carmine eyes observe your slouched figure. "Little Love youll give yourself a hunch sitting like that", you jump at the sound of his voice, hiding your tear stained face from his view, your words muffled as you do your best to clean your face.

He admits a soft huff when you dont tease back like normal, the weight on the log seams to shift as he sits beside you, his voice is soft and carries like a leaf in the wind "sweetness whatever is the matter? youve seemed off since we left that tavern", a lump catches in your throat, of all the taverns, in all of baulders gate, why did karlach pick that one.

your ex partner had been there, you had hoped to hide from them in the back corners of the dimly lit tavern but to no avail; they sauntered up to the table like they owned the place "Tav long time no see how are you" forcing you into an all but too tight hug, the sickly sweet smile on their face as they trapped you in their arms, your anxiety and claustrophobia hit an all time high. You firmly place your hands on their chest to push yourself out of their arms, they catch one of your wrists rather roughly, definately causing bruising, a small yelp emits from your lips. You wish your camp mates had been nearby to help you out of the situation but it appeared that they were off doing their own thing in the midst of the tavern party, "you wont run off on me this time sweetheart" their grip on you is tight and unmoving, memories of your last time together flash across your mind, bruises, wounds, tears and tantrums. They were going to hurt you again, their attempt to drag you to one of the many tavern bedrooms brings you back to your senses, your fight or flight kicks in, your elbow connects with their stomach allowing you to make a break for it "YOU LITTLE SHIT" their words are drowned out by the wind howling in your ears as you continued your sprint to camp.

Astarion studies your face, your eyes look distant and your hand keeps rubbing at your wrists. "Little darling whatever happened?, you seemed so excited for your night out on the town" you dont answer, your voice faulters as fresh tears make their way down your face. In the beginning it startles him, but he can see how much your hurting, he goes to gently grab your hands to help relax you, his eyes come in contact with the purple bruise that marks your beautiful skin "Dove when did this happen? It looks fresh" His fingers press against the bruise causing you to wince, his eyes watch as your face contorts in pain and sadness "Darling i hope you know you can talk to me, like i did to you when i needed to" his fingers gently stroke your cheek, wiping away tears.

you regain your voice, but its hoarse from crying "tonight in the tavern i saw someone, someone i didnt want to see" he nods giving your hand an affectionate squeeze, you would speak in your own time and he had all of eternity to hear you out. "My...Ex partner was there" "im sensing bad blood between you" you nod before guesturing to your bruised wrist "we were together years back and we broke up because...they liked using their hand on me" Astarion's brows scrunch together as he pieces the words together "Darling are you saying they used to beat you?" he doesnt need a verbal response when he sees the pain in your eyes, now hes seething with rage; who in the right mind would hurt a sweet thing like you, the very same creature who had comforted him and offered their neck to him.

"That Bastard I'll skin them" the rise in his voice causing you to jump, astarion takes your bruised wrist, pressing soft kisses to the marked flesh "who in the right mind would damage such a wonderful work of art, a feast for the gods eyes, should they ever step within 10 foot of you again my love you tell me, you promised me that we'd hunt down cazzador and make him pay for what he did to me, now ill make a promise to you my little darling" his kisses slowly making their way up your arm before landing on your lips "i will protect you from all harm, none more will befall that beautiful mind of yours" he presses a kiss to your forehead, "come darling you look exhausted, youll sleep with me tonight, ill watch over you" he takes you to his tent and tucks you up amongst his many blankets and pillows, his fingers playing with your hair until you fall asleep, "my sweet if only you knew just how far I'd go to ensure your happiness" he presses a final kiss to your forehead before curling up with you.

He kept to his word you'd never be plagued by that ex of yours again infact no one would, ever again.

I really hope you enjoyed this, its my first time writing for this kind of scenario <3 thank you for your request and by all means pop by again and request something else if you liked this one

[tabibitto]

Always Yours | Sebastian Michaelis

m.list

cw: fluff, smut, angst, toxic relationship, butler x master, oneshot, gender neutral, main character death

A/N: should i make a mini series about something like this?

Upon a summon, a demon negotiates a price, and a deal. What to give and take.

As a creature of sin, he of course, tries to make the best bargain for himself. With you, it was different. The first of contracts in over 500 years where the terms were of equal measure, in your gaze and his.

Sebastian, as you named him. Promised three things to you: Pleasure, Protection and Absolute Service. In service, he swore honesty, he swore loyalty, as both a butler and a lover. He swore to "care" for you.

Whether you looked at it as genuine kindness or the simple task of taking care of a lesser animal was up to you.

In this Loom of Fate, where you had no real future. No heirs for your earldom, where your work in your manor and buisness was for naught, you still worked hard and gave it your utmost devotion.

It amused him—watching as you worked and packed your schedule for seemingly no reason. In a hundred years you would be forgotten, but the demon supposed that this was another little quirk of the complex nature of humans.

Sebastian often pondered weather you did this to feign a sense of normality, or weather it made the perfect excuse for him to...destress you.

He teased you about it before, that there was no need to work so hard for his cock and attention. In response you had slapped him, and rode him harder that night. It was never brought up again.

You never did answer his question as to why pretend to be normal. Then again, he didn't say anything when you asked why he would pretend to love you. And unlike your usual stubbornness, you dared not to press when the chatty demon suddenly grew quiet whilst he washed your hair.

You never learned whether his silence was an answer in itself, or because...he didn't know either.

Sebastian took care to remember everything you mentioned you liked and hated, without your orders to do or not do. He insisted he always take care of your hair and body. Never allowing you to lift a finger when he was around. Sebastian always had a new excuse

Chivalry, Duty, Honor. Trivial ideals that mattered not to him.

How Sebastian took gentle care to prep you and love you the first time you urged him into your bed.

How you insisted he was the only one who could, because he was your loyal slave who would never open his mouth and boast nor gossip of his Lady in bed, to which he agreed

Sebastian would not dare, contract or not to allow another man nor woman know of your pretty moans and expressions, how you quivered around him and uttered i love yous and stay with mes that nearly convinced him of your affection.

In return, he uttered the same sweet nothings to you.

He tore apart anyone you wished dead, brought you their heads and tongues like a proud pet when you requested.

Sebastian knew it was not distrust that made you ask for proof of death. You were just as twisted as he and it made him crave your own demise even more.

Deep down, where his heart was supposed to be. Sebastian knew he loved you, he was obsessed with you and would do anything for you. His own addiction made him nurture and love your soul even more, each time he kissed you, he could faintly taste the delicacy he has cultivated for years, and would fuck you hard to satiate his thirst for your soul.

he fed you, bathed you, fucked you, loved you

he gave you everything you never had

In return, you fullfilled your own end of the contract.

you were a loyal lover to him. Never pleased nor been pleased by another man or woman then Sebastian himself. Turned down every marriage proposal and attempt to court you. Danced with no one unless absolutely needed

Never smoked nor did drugs to preserve your soul's taste, though you did enjoy wine and liquor.

You called him when in danger or if someone tried to force themselves on you, and he protected you, held you as cried and trembled, Comforted you as you wanted.

Making gentle love to you, kissing you, hugs, cuddles. Watching over you while you beat and tortured men to death. Brought you whatever parts you wanted, mailed the rest to their homes as a warning.

Sebastian would never dare himself say he loved you. He would never think it possible. Demons and Angels could not love nor hate. The divine and damned existed for a sole purpose, to carry out the word of the lord, or bring damnation to humanity. He was the latter, nothing more or less.

With you he could pretend he was someone, someone more. Someone who could come home, who could love and live. He would lay awake at night, and pretend you meant your words. Your confessions. Allow himself to feel

What Sebastian would say, is that he was simply possesive and obsessed with you. And if he had to call it love for your sake...and his. So be it.

Until the day when he would please you one last time before tearing you apart as he came. Relishing in your screams and cries, as much as it destroyed him to do such a vile thing. He would enjoy you. Every inch, every drop of you was his.

Sebastian Michaelis would love every inch of you until then. And bury himself into starvation with your body, to love and be loyal to you, his mistress. Until the end of time.

Because there was no one like you, would be no one like you. You were everything he wanted and would ever need.

Even if his stomach ached for even a cheap soul, he would ride it out until death. As punishment for making you suffer, and to keep his promise to you.

usque ad mortem im tua

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

Imagine mando’s reaction to seeing fem!reader playing with or being sweet with grogu- and seeing how grogu takes a liking so quickly to her (if they just met)

I just feel like it would make his heart flutter

Hi, Nonny, sorry it took me so long to answer this. I tried my best thinking about how it would go. I hope you like what I came up with.

The Stowaway

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

A/N: Feedback is always welcome. It's almost 5am so any typos are my bad.

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat there fidgeting slightly, your nerves getting the better of you. You shifted in your seat again as the stranger, the Mandalorian, you had heard others call him, stalked towards you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he stopped in front of you and glared at you - as far as you could tell, you couldn’t see his face through his helmet - but you swore you could feel him giving you an icy cold stare.

“How did you get in here?” he asked you again. 

Yeah, he’s definitely glaring, you thought. 

You sighed and shook your head. “It was an accident,” you told him again. You had told him this at least four times, but he kept asking you as if your answer was going to change. 

You hadn’t meant to sneak onto his ship. You were running from raiders and had hopped in the first thing you saw. You didn’t know nor care to whom it belonged, you just needed to get away and fast. 

You heard him sigh. “Well, I’m taking you back,” he told you. “I don’t have any more room.” 

“No,” you said, shaking your head. Your home was gone, you didn’t have anything to go back to. The raiders had destroyed everything. “There’s no back to go to. I don’t have anything left. Besides,” you looked around, “you have plenty of room. I was in here for two days before you even noticed.”

You couldn’t tell, but you were more than sure he had frowned at that. 

“Next stop, I’m dropping you off,” he told you. “I don’t need anyone else on this ship.”

“Fine with me,” you said. You had planned to hop off when he made his next stop in the first place. 

“It’ll be three more days,” he told you. “Just stay out of my way.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “So, where can I…?” you had started to ask him where you could bunk, but he just turned around shaking his head and walking away. You shrugged and reached into your pack for something to eat.

—-------

You managed to stay out of each other’s way for a day, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you by the second day. You had gotten out of the niche you had made for yourself and decided to stretch your legs. 

You wandered around, making sure to keep quiet. You didn’t see anything interesting, really it was your typical ship, you seen one, you’ve seen them all. You were about to go back to your niche when you heard a noise. You stopped and listened again. 

What was that? It sounded like a small child or something. That’s interesting, you thought. Maybe that’s what he meant about not having room for anyone. He already has someone in here. You walked towards where you thought it was coming from. There was a curtain covering a section, you pushed aside and peered around the corner. 

“Hello?” you called out softly. In response, you heard a cooing sound. 

You looked around and didn’t see anything. Nothing but a pile of some things and a small hammock strung up. You walked into the space and called out again, “Is anyone here?”

The cooing noise answered you again and then, to your surprise, a small head popped out. You bit your tongue, so as not to yell out. You had never seen anything like this creature before. It was small and green with big ears and wide blinking eyes. Once you got over the initial shock, you smiled. It was kinda cute. You kneeled down to get on eye level with it.

“Um, hi,” you said nervously.

It cooed again, and reached out a small hand to you.

“D-do you have a name?”

The creature blinked at you and tilted its head as if to ask you who you were and what you were doing in its space.

“I’m guessing you can’t talk, huh?”

It made another noise, this time, you figured, it was a happy one. You reached out and touched its outstretched hand. The noise it made this time was definitely a happy one and you were sure it smiled. You grinned down at the creature and it came out from its hiding spot. You repositioned yourself and sat cross-legged on the floor. The two of you studied each other for a bit.

“What are you doing here?” you asked it, knowing that it couldn’t answer you. It just made another noise.

 “Are you friends with that Mandalorian?” 

Another cooing noise. 

“Guess that means yes,” you said, looking around. “I mean you have a pretty nice set up here. A room, kinda, hammock…”

The creature looked around and then back at you, tilting its head again. You took it to mean that it was asking you what you were doing there.

“I hid out,” you said. “I was running from raiders, they destroyed my home. I didn’t think it was a big deal, I was gonna hop off as soon as your friend made another stop. Thought I could hide out. Didn’t know it would be three days. He caught me. I was trying to stay out of his way but I just wanted to look around…”

“What are you doing?” a voice asked from behind you, making you and the creature jump in surprise.

You hopped up quickly, spotting the Mandalorian. “Oh, I was just, um…”

“You were supposed to stay out of the way,” he said. 

“Right, sorry,” you mumbled and scrambled out of the way, making your way back to your niche.

A few hours later, while you were snacking on some of the food you had, you heard the sound of the little creature cooing. You peered out from where you were and saw it blinking up at you. You smiled again.

“Hey,” you whispered, “what are you doing here?”

It made another noise then climbed into where you were. The two of you looked at each  other for a bit before the creature looked at the food in your hand.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, handing some of your food to it.

It smiled and took the food from your hand and gobbled it up quickly. You laughed and it made a noise that you assumed was a happy one. 

“You need to slow down,” you said, handing it another piece and taking some more and eating it yourself.

After you finished eating, the creature stayed around where you were. You talked to it, telling it about your home, your family, and some happy times and you assumed it enjoyed your stories because it listened intently for a bit. Then it went searching in your pack pulling out some of your things. You showed it your stuff, explaining what each thing was and where they came from and any stories behind them. 

Soon, you could see it getting sleepy. You reached out your arms and the creature went into them immediately and snuggled against you. You talked to it softly, telling it a story your mother had told you every night to get you to sleep. When you finished, you looked down and saw it was sound asleep. You got up carefully, then looked around, checking that the Mandalorian wasn’t anywhere around. Once you were sure that the coast was clear, you tiptoed back to the space where you found the creature and placed it carefully in its hammock and covered it with a blanket. You looked down at it for a second, watching it sleep peacefully, before heading back to your niche.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched by the Mandalorian.

The next day, you were awakened by the creature, gently tapping you. 

“Hey!” you said, stretching and yawning, then smiling at it.

It made a cooing sound, then turned and walked off. You figured it wanted you to follow it, so you got up and did. It took you back to his space. It went and dug through some things before producing a small silver ball. You looked at it curiously. The creature settled down and you did the same across from it. It stretched out its hand with the ball in it and you took it. You watched it as it closed its eyes, concentrating, and then you felt a small tugging in your hand. The ball flew out of your palm and into its hand.

It opened his eyes and made a triumphant noise. 

“Woah!” you exclaimed, “you did that? How?” You took the ball again. “Can you do it again?” you asked.

In response, the creature closed its eyes and did it again, making you cheer.

“This is so cool!” You reached in your pocket and pulled out a charm that once went on a necklace. “Can you do it with this too?”

It closed its eyes, stretched out his hand and the next thing you knew, your charm flew out of your hand and into the creature’s. You cheered again, making the creature excited. You two did this for a few hours, before, you guessed, the creature got tired. It climbed into your lap and snuggled against you again, looking up at you with its big eyes. You smiled down at it.

“Wanna hear that story again?”

It made a sound that you assumed meant yes and you began to tell the story, watching as the creature drifted off to sleep.

You had forgotten that you were supposed to be out of the way, but you were soon reminded when, again, the Mandalorian’s voice startled you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but this time sounding not nearly as upset.

“We were just, um, playing, I guess,” you said softly. “Then it got tired and fell asleep.”

“Oh,” he grunted. “I see.” 

“Right,” you said, getting up carefully and putting the creature in its hammock and covering it. 

The Mandalorian had watched you and marveled at the tender way you played and cared for the child. He felt something stir inside him.

“Well, I guess I’ll go back to my…”

“He has a name,” he said, interrupting you.

“Huh?”

The Mandalorian nodded to the hammock. “The child, he has a name.”

“Oh, um, what is it?”

“Grogu.”

“Grogu? Huh, that’s interesting. Do you have a name?"

“I was watching you,” he said, ignoring your question. “Watching you talk to him, and play with him. He likes you.”

“Really? It… I mean, he does?” you asked, shocked. “How can you tell?”

He shrugged. “I just can. It’s nice.”

“Oh, well that’s good then.”

You both stood there for a minute staring at each other.

“Well,” he said. “Have you eaten yet?”

You shook your head. “No, I…”

“Come on, I have something,” he turned to walked off before stopping and glancing back at you. "You can call me Din," he told you before walking off.

You glanced back at the tiny, sleeping form of the child, Grogu and smiled, then turned to follow Din.

[writingwithcolor]

Running Commentary: What is “ok to do” in Mixed-Culture Supernatural Fiction?

Dear readers: 

Today we are trying something new. To give you some insight into our process in the Japanese moderator section, we are presenting our response in the form of running commentary to show you how we dissect and answer long asks. We hope this makes clear what points are useful and not useful when sending us a query. As always, this is for learning purposes, not callouts. Be prepared: this is a long one. 

To summarize: the asker is looking to create a comic drawn in Japanese manga style, and has provided a long summary of the story and worldbuilding which involves a mix of “reimagined” Japanese yokai mythos and cultural symbols from many other sources. They have questions with respect to cultural appropriation, coding etiquette, and “what is and isn’t ok.” 

Opening Comments

I know a common advice when it comes to the thing I am about to ask is to talk to people involved in __, but I struggle with opening up to strangers for reasons I'm uncomfortable explaining. 

Marika (M): This is already a red flag. If you want to engage with another culture without talking to people from that culture, then research is going to be very challenging. You won’t have members of that culture to guide you towards sources and perspectives they feel most accurately represents public opinion. If I were in your shoes, I might start with tackling my discomfort when engaging with other people, if only to improve my work. If you aren’t ready to engage with a culture and its people directly, then I think you should wait until you are. 

I should note, reaching out to the Japanese mod team at WWC does count as engagement, but WWC should not and cannot be the only point of contact because there is no single, legitimate cultural perspective. 

Rina (R): Also, you don’t need to “open up” to strangers or talk to them in person to get perspectives. Asking specific research questions anonymously to a forum or on social media requires very little vulnerability. You managed to do it here on WWC. So give it a try! 

Anyway, my question basically amounts to the what is and isn't ok [sic] in terms of depicting fantasy creatures and concepts outside of their respective culture.

R: So, the reason why we turn away rubber stamp questions by that ask “is XYZ okay?” is because “okay” & “not okay” 1) is vague and 2) creates a dichotomy where there isn’t one. 

When we say something is “not okay,” do we mean:

It’s offensive to the general majority of XYZ group? 

It’s contentious among people who ID in the group? 

It has a potential to be interpreted in a certain negative way, but may not be a red flag to everyone?

Insetad try asking:

What are the reasons this subject is offensive? 

What makes cultural appropriation bad? 

When might it be “okay” to intentionally discuss a difficult or controversial topic?

What is your reason for including something that may be interpreted as offensive and can it be sufficiently justified? 

What stereotypes or tropes might it be consistently identified as or associated with, and why? 

When might it be justified to bring up these tropes?

With That In Mind...

Let’s get into the rest of the ask below. 

…a story I've been working on in recent times is largely inspired off the Japanese yokai, and the setting is basically Earth in the far future, as far as when the next supercontinent may form. These yokai, although portrayed differently here, do retain their main characteristics [...] Included in this world are two goddesses of my own creation, primarily representing the sun and the moon. [...] There will be thirteen nations, named and based after the Chinese Zodiac, and the life force found in the living things in this world, called qi, comes in two forms that are always opposing each other but can never fully overpower the other, this being based off yin and yang. They're even directly named this; yin qi and yang qi.

M: This reads more like using Japanese and Chinese culture for the “aesthetics”, not the cultures themselves, which I personally feel falls under cultural appropriation. From a world-building/ coding standpoint, the actual use of concepts is workable, and, dare I say, typical, given how Chinese cosmology influences Japanese culture. However, naming a concept “yin qi” or “yang qi” is the equivalent of naming something “- charge” or “+ charge”, respectively. That you don’t seem aware of this tells me you are pretty early in your research phase. In that vein, we’ve covered translating terms and names from foreign languages in fantasy before. See the following article linked here for our recommendation against using RL terms outright but instead encouraging people to create their own conlangs. 

R: Worldbuilding-wise, I think you would have to figure out the chicken-or-egg of the zodiac nations. Did the nations come first, and the zodiac later as an origin folk story (which you would have to rewrite to serve the nation-building narrative)? Did the zodiac come first, and the nations named (most likely re-named) by a political entity? What is the justification? Otherwise, again, it’s a shoehorning of aesthetics. 

There is also a third, lesser known god based off of fox spirits and trickery and I imagined he's the patron deity of a family that honors and worships him, but his influence on them has transformed them into Kitsune-tsuki, which I depict as fox-like anthros. 

M: Not related to this ask directly, but I have jokingly ranted about how often non-Japanese people prefer using imagery related to kitsune-tsuki in Japanese coded world-building (link). This makes me feel the same level of petty irritation. See my troll answer below for a similar experience.

R: Same. It’s boring tbh. 

M: Troll Answer: I get that kitsune-tsuki are very sexy furries, but Japanese folklore has other sexy furries too! These underrepresented demographics also deserve recognition and appreciation!!

The plot of the story is this; modernization has left the goddesses neglected of their worship and forgotten, something that is necessary in this world to stop them from fighting each other. The Moon Goddess awakens first, punishing the humans by unleashing the yokai. Then the Sun Goddess wakes up to fight in humanity's defense…

M: This could feel rather like Shinto-like coding (Ex. the myth of Amaterasu and the Cave, or Tsukuyomi slaying Ukemochi), but something about this scenario feels a bit too binary in terms of themes of good v. evil, light v. dark to be Shinto. The plot also feels more Gaelic/ Nordic in influence for me as a person raised in a Japanese Buddhist and Hindu household. I imagine this dissonance could have been fixed with better guided research. 

…but their fighting has caused a perma-eclipse and this world is in danger of ending. The yokai have run rampant; some are loyal to the Moon Goddess, and some aren't, and it lies to the main characters to bring balance back to Midgard. Yeah... the name of this future Earth is Midgard. I debate changing it since it and some other things I will mention sorta feel out of place.

R: Marika, looks like you were right on the Gaelic/Nordic influence /j 

Also, worldbuilding question: if the Earth is in the far geologic future, how long has it been since modernization (19th-20th century)? Centuries? Millennia? How long has this fighting gone on for? What triggered the perma-eclipse, and why now? Why is this time depth necessary? 

One of the main characters in question is a humanoid woman with wolf features named Ling, and she is a descendant of the dynasty that had first ruled the one of the nations, particularly the one based off the dragon zodiac. She accidentally summons the other main character to this world as she's praying at a shrine, a humanoid with dragon features--I call them drakon--named Angelynn.

[on the names of characters] is it appropriating by not having the world entirely based on [Chinese, Japanese, and Indian] influence? it's a little weird to me how worldwide the creatures are referred to as yokai, implying a strong Japanese influence not unlike how it is today with Western culture being so dominant, yet there are still names like Keith and Kiara.

M: I will give you credit for recognizing you have unconsciously veered towards white-washing/ race-bending: either presenting European cultural influences (drakons, Angelynn, Keith, Kiara, Midgard) as default or utilizing general E. Asian cultural influences and aesthetics for a Western-style story (Ling, qi, Chinese zodiac, yokai). I agree with you that this creates a sense of cultural dissonance. At this point, I’d say you have a clear choice: write a Western-style high fantasy using a background with which you have more familiarity, or get some better guidance on research with East Asian cultures so you can code the story more effectively. 

The focus of this story is centered around meeting all these yokai and showing that there's more nuance to them than Ling believes, all while saving the world. But I worry if I'm appropriating these concepts and creatures by 1, drawing from more than one culture--I initially imagined that there would be a mix of Chinese, Japanese and Indian influence because according to a website I am getting the info on yokai from, the yokai in question already draw inspiration from or have been based on something in Chinese mythology or Hinduism [...]

R: Sure, some yokai have Chinese or Hindu parallels as that tends to happen with folk tales. But not all–some are unique to Japan, and some are more modern. Sometimes it’s very political–some people consider the Ainu Korpokkur as being a “Yokai of Japan” despite it belonging to the indigenous culture. It’s up to you to research, untangle, and understand these influences. 

The fact that you bring up that the Asian continent has seen a lot of cultural exchange is not a sufficient reason to randomly combine influences for the sake of visual appeal or “coolness.” That is appropriation. These influences must be understood in their historical context so that you know how/why certain things combined or morphed into another, and what makes sense to combine/morph. 

M: This also indicates that the character views the yokai as evil/inherently bad, which I would argue is not a typical stance for much Japanese folklore. Again, this shows a deficit in research. 

2, reimagining these yokai in a new context even though I have done the research on them, because one thing I kept seeing in regards to cultural appropriation is that it's bad to do that […]

R: Refer above to my note on “okay” and “not okay.” The thing with folklore and fairy tales is that every–and I mean every–folk tale is reinterpreted with every new iteration of it. Reimagining in a new context is what people do every time they pass on a story or tell a story with the same plot or characters. Do not think of folklore as an “original” that is altered and rebooted, but rather a living document that gets added to. Reimagining is not the inherent issue. HOW you reimagine something matters. 

So I suppose my question is...if someone were to do research upon the creature they want to use, given they are allowed to use it, and gained an understanding of what the creature or concept stood for, are they allowed to pick it apart and reimagine it? Alternatively, is it ok if it's explicitly pointed out that it is derivative of the original?

It has actually become my biggest fear that I may have internalized something that could both continue to do harm long after the fact and attract the wrong people to me work. I don't wanna let people down!

M: As Rina has noted several times, I think the problem is in trying to ID a set of specific variables and circumstances that make a thing “okay” or “not okay.” I want to recommend that you read my joking response about writing in secret rooms while wearing a disguise (Linked here). Who can you hurt if no one knows what you are doing? There’s a difference between creating for oneself and creating to share. 

You have internalized a message incorrectly, but not the one you cite. The goal of many recommendations against cultural appropriation is to avoid causing direct harm to people who have seen their cultures demeaned, discredited and devalued, especially in shared spaces. Assessing cultural engagement, whether we are talking about appropriation, appreciation or exchange is not a measure of personal virtue or a collection of commandment style do’s and don’t’s. Rather, I believe engaging with other cultures is the state of mind of acknowledging that when using these cultures’ in one’s own work, there is value in consulting members of that culture and giving credit where credit is due. This will be challenging if you are only comfortable engaging with all of these cultures in a distanced, minimal capacity. 

FWIW, I’ve written stories that probably will offend people from other cultures and backgrounds, but I don’t show them off. I don’t think writing these makes me a bad person, but I also don’t see the need to give unnecessary offense, so those stories are just for me, to be written and read in my own secret room. However, I’m not ashamed of having written them, and I’m also comfortable to “let people down” provided that my own shared work reflects my personal principles of what I consider to be sufficient research and engagement with other cultures,  As a creator, my work wouldn’t be mine if I didn’t first please myself. I think the trick to the creator role is deciding what to keep private, what to share and what constitutes sufficient engagement. 

P.S. 

We’ve referenced the need for research multiple times in this ask, and in some of the other asks that have gone up this week, so we thought this would be a good place to plug a beginner’s guide to academic research created by the mod team.. Look for it soon under WWC’s pinned posts!

[hendersister]

dancing in the dark

summary: you run into steve while he's picking up dustin to drive to the snow ball.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen

a/n: this is my first ever steve fic! i hope it doesn't suck 🫣

“Mom! Where did you leave the car keys?” 

You walk into the living room to find your mother watching TV. Her new kitten, Tews, sits comfortably on her lap. Christmas music is playing loudly in the background.

It’s a busy night in the Henderson household. Your little brother, Dustin, is getting ready to go to the Snow Ball at Hawkins Middle. He’s a little anxious but you can tell he’s excited. 

While Dustin is at the dance, you plan on going to the movies with a couple of your friends. Your mom is even letting you borrow her car under one condition - you have to pick up Dustin from the Snow Ball. Luckily, you don’t need to worry about giving Dustin a ride to the dance. He’s already got that covered… 

“In my purse,” she answers, nodding to her bag on the coffee table.

“Thanks!” you smile.

You reach for your mom’s purse and pull out her car keys.

“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!”

Dustin frantically enters the living room in search of something.

“Where did you see it last?” your mom questions Dustin.

“Right here, where I put it,” he tells her.

“What’s in there that’s so important anyway? You look fabulous, baby,” your mom tries.

“Yeah listen to mom, dork! You look great,” you tease your little brother, ruffling his hair.

“Stop!” Dustin shrieks.

Dustin backs away from you and makes a b-line for the kitchen. You head towards the front door. Before walking out, you grab your coat hanging nearby.

“Don’t forget to pick Dusty up on your way home from the movies,” your mom reminds you.

You shrug, nodding your head. As if you needed the reminder. You’ve been looking after your little brother since the day he was born. After your father left, you took on a lot more responsibilities at home. You practically helped raise Dustin. You two are latch key kids. You used to babysit for Dustin everyday while your mom was working late. You and your brother became really close during that time. Sure, you and Dustin bicker occasionally, like all siblings do, but there’s a special bond between you two. 

“When have I ever forgotten to pick him?”

You put on your jacket, then call out to your brother.

“Hey Dustin! I’ll pick you up around ten.”

“Mhmm,” Dustin mumbles.

He’s so focused on looking for whatever he’s looking for, you don’t think he actually comprehend what you just said.

You roll your eyes and open the door.

“Got it!” you hear your little brother announce.

He grabs a paper bag off the kitchen counter. The last thing you see as you walk out the door is Dustin rushing off to his bedroom.

“Later mom! Have fun tonight, Dusty!” 

You close the door behind you on your way out. Just as you step outside, a red BMW pulls up in the driveway. You recognize the car and the driver immediately. It’s Steve Harrington.

You and Steve didn’t really know each other until a few weeks ago. Of course you knew of him, everybody did. He’s one of the most popular guys at Hawkins High. But Steve had no idea who you were. You never had a real conversation with Steve until the world almost came to an end….

It all started when Dustin had inadvertently adopted a creature from another dimension. Your little brother recruited you and Steve to help him handle the situation after the Demodog ate your mom’s cat, Mews. And, much to your surprise, Steve “The Hair'' Harrington actually stepped up to help. Until then, you had thought of him as douchebag King Steve. The experience made you see him in an entirely different light. Outside of school and away from all the petty teen drama, Steve Harrington is a good guy.

Steve bonded with both you and your little brother. What made you really grow to respect Steve was how he became close friends with Dustin. Your brother had been lacking a male role model since your dad left. Now Steve was starting to fill that role in Dustin’s life. You really appreciate Steve for everything he’s done for Dustin.

Steve parks his car right next to your mom’s. You’re walking towards your mom’s car when Steve gets out of his.

“Hey Steve,” you wave politely.

“Hey! Is he almost ready?” Steve asks.

You nod.

“Thanks for giving Dustin a ride. You saved me a trip…”

If Steve wasn’t driving Dustin then your mom probably would’ve made you take him.

“Yeah no problem. I think I’m basically one of his chauffeurs now anyways,” Steve nods.

“Welcome to the club, Harrington! We meet every Thursday to go over the driving schedule,” you joke.

Steve laughs, “Oh really? Well, I’ll make sure to bring the snacks for the next meeting.”

You quietly chuckle. You give Steve a small smile before you continue walking to your mom’s car. When you reach the car, you stop yourself from getting in. You turn back to Steve.

“I, uh, I think it’s really cool that you're driving Dustin to the dance,” you tell him sincerely. 

Steve nods, unsure what to say. You two lock eyes. There’s a spark there. You feel some sort of electricity between you and Steve. You’re having a quiet little moment. Well, at least you think so. You have no idea if Steve feels the same and you’re way too shy to make the first move. 

You take a deep breath and then break the silence.

“You’re a good guy, Steve Harrington.”

Before Steve has a chance to respond, you get in your mom’s car and drive off into the night. Steve watches you go, mentally kicking himself. He wishes he said something. When he was with you, he felt the spark too. But he's still getting over Nancy. Steve is just not ready for you yet. He'll get there... someday.

[s0apmactav1sh]

Minors, fem alinged do not interact with this blog you will be blocked!!

Taskforce 141. A tight knit group made up of monsters. Soldiers who were on a whole other level to the rest all because they were supernatural. Price, the captain of the TF and a dragon hybrid. His boys were apart of his hoard, the things he found irreplaceable and precious. Even with one wing enemies trembled at the sight of such a large man coming towards them. Ghost, the lieutenant and a wraith. What could be said about him, with shadows at his mercy and the darkness being apart of him there wasnt a way to kill a man who was already dead. Soap, sergeant number one and a werewolf. All hell breaks loose when hes able to transform, the team being his pack so he does whats needed to protect them. And lastly, Gaz, the harpy hybrid. The taskforces eyes in the sky. A bird of prey as other soldiers call him.

Thats all the infromation you had been given when you were first introduced to Kate Laswell. You had been handed files but most of the information on them had been classified and blacked out. Laswell had mentioned breifly how she had to practically seek you out, going to people she assumed would have an idea on where you would be. However no one could tell her what you were or where you were mostly because you kept on the down low and only popped up on the map during certain times. How she had caught you while you were in a bar in blackpool was a question you held back from asking.

"Whats in it for me?" Your voice was gruff, not in the way johns was from his years of smoking and barking orders, but in a softer way like you werent expecting to have to talk tonight. Help always came with a price. Yours especially, since you'd be working with monsters you were unfamiliar with. It wasnt like you were different persay but mixing your type of monster with theres didnt seem like the greatest idea in your mind but with Kates promise of a large sum of money and the few pints she bought you it was enough for you to agree to work alongside the taskforce for a few weeks until you were no long needed and could slip back into whatever hell you came from.

-

A Nightcrawler, a monster so unheard of they practically didnt exsit anymore. A creatures that lurked in the darkness where it could lure its victims into it and get rid of them, feasting on them after. Price had to put down your file the minute he read what type of monster you were, everyone knew that trusted one of you would end with death. The shiver that crept down his spine had him removing himself from his desk and leaving his office going directly to the resting room he knew his boys would be in. If he was going to accept kate purposal of accepting you into the taskforce, even if it was for a few weeks, he needed them to voice there opinions first.

"No. Not a chance" Was the first answer he got from ghost once it was finally brought up. Soap was to busy tryna keep his tail still so Gaz could brush out the muck and dirt he had in it from the missions they had been on. "We'd never be able to trust something like it." Ghost was set on declining having another person invade his space. He had enough trying to deal with a werewolf a harpy and a dragon, thrusting a nightcrawler into the mist would cause chaos.

"Its not a good idea, nightcrawlers have a tendancy to go rouge and attack everything within range" was the next response price got from gaz this time, the harpy also turning down the idea of having a nightcrawler join them. Although he voiced his reason as to his decline a lot more clearly than the wraith did. Still Price was hoping atleast Johnny may say something positive so he doesnt look like an asshole for not listening to them even though Kate had went through the pain of trying to get you to come and help them. But with prices luck so far with getting his boys to agree to allow you onto the team there was little hope that johnny would agree.

"Are you mad? A nightcrawler on our team. Ain't no way thats happenin" like he expected he was instantly turned down by the werewolf. Now explaining to Laswell that none of them wanted you on the team because you were a nightcrawler would be the difficult part since the woman was so persistant on getting them another to work with them. Dialing her number once in his office, all price could do is hope she hadnt gotten a chance to even figure out were you were.

-

The sound of kates phone ringing knocked you out of your small buzz as you picked it up and handed it to her turning away and getting another drink for yourself in hopes of drinking yourself to sleep once more before you set off to this taskforce. The sound of irritation soon hit your ears as kate tried getting whoever was on the other end of the phone to agree and take you in even if was just for one mission. Clenching your jaw you reached over and took the phone listen to the sound of the voice coming through.

"Kate there isnt a thing I can do to get the lads to let him join. They dont want a nightcrawler on the taskforce I cant force them."

A small scoff leaves you before you hang up the phone and pass it back to kate. "Thought they were on board with me joining."

-

JDBSJSVDUDBDV i have struggled i mean struggled to finish this. I honestly hate it with a burning passion and I have half a mind to delete it all and start over but here is part 1 of a fic im not even sure Ill finish.