#sticking with he/him pronouns unless/until he says otherwise

[alatar-and-pallando]

So, my spouse has been exploring his gender lately; he also just built himself a new laptop. Today he told me that he in an attempt to process some genderfeels through metaphor, he made a post on a trans forum along the lines of: "I'm a lifelong Windows user and I think I'm pretty good at it. I want to find out what Linux has to offer but I'm afraid I wouldn't be any good at it. And how do you choose the right Linux distro, anyway? Do you have to try them all?"

The responses, he said, were a mix of useful advice about feeling out your gender and useful advice about choosing a Linux distro.

I love trans people so much

Edit 4/8, in case you don't see the reblogged additions -- my wife is now going by Eve!

#and i love my nerdy-ass spouse #sticking with he/him pronouns unless/until he says otherwise #also: so glad that my own gender process played out in front of him and that he's now comfortable figuring his out in front of me #trans tag #my posts #linux #trans

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Allison Silva is based on Allison Watts from Hocus Pocus. She is a 28 year old witch, operations manager at the evermore museum, and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of protection and warding. Allison is portrayed by Macarena Achaga and she is taken.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Allison's obsession with the occult and all things supernatural started at a very young age. Her mother being the previous owner of the Sanderson Sisters cottage when it was once a museum was enough to ignite her curiosities in all things otherworldly. Her family didn't own it for long though, a few bumps in the night was enough to spook her mom into selling it. As Allison got older she kept her interest to herself, her parents didn't find it charming and it didn't really make good conversation with her other wealthy friends. Then came Maximilian Desai during her junior year of high school; someone who shook up Allison's whole world from the moment he entered it. Max seemed to see her for more than just a pretty face, but someone who was intelligent and also incredibly caring. As they became closer friends the more Allison felt a protective urge to keep him and his little sister away from the Sanderson's cottage. Max didn't believe in any of that superstition mumbo jumbo though and ignored Allison's pleas to not light the black candle. In the end he did anyway, and soon learned that dark magic wasn't a toy to be messed with.

Dealing with the Sanderson witches was a whole ordeal and mess that Allison didn't ever want to put herself in again. Though she had gotten something useful out of that fateful night. She remembered Winnie calling Aliison a white witch when she used her knowledge of the occult to pour a circle of salt around herself and Max for protection. For a long while after the ordeal Allison thought nothing of it until a bunch of strange accidents started happening in her life that couldn't be explained, and each time she always came out unscathed. Car accidents, faulty wiring in her home, things that could have been more disastrous to anyone else otherwise. Call it luck but Allison felt differently, maybe Winnie was right, perhaps she was a witch too. It was something she began practicing with for a few years--mainly protection spells to keep her from falling into another situation like had been in with the Sanderson witches. Years came and went and unfortunately Allison had to leave Max behind to pursue her dreams she had for college. She wanted to be an architect or maybe open up a museum like her mother had done. Either way she was ready to leave Salem behind and all her memories of it. You know what they say, be careful for what you wish for, because Allison got exactly that when she woke up in Evermore. Everything came back slowly in bits and pieces until she stumbled into Max and Dani again. Just like Max her full memory didn't come back until he lit that dreaded candle again, dooming them all to repeat history once more. It didn't matter though, she'd stick it out for Max and Dani. Allison wasn't a little girl anymore, this time around she was a witch and she was ready for to fight.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Ming Lee: Allison's boss at the museum, but Ming isn't just someone she works under, Allison really admires Ming and her work ethic. She only hopes to be half as efficient as her one day. ❀ Zelda Borne: Allison met Zelda when the museum was hosting a charity event at Hideaway Hostels. The two instantly clicked, and now the pair isn't seen without the other. Unless one of them is working of course. ❀ Ami Mizuno: She's a regular at the museum to the point they know each other on a first name basis. Usually they talk of modern art and poetry. Allison enjoys any moment she can geek out about history, and Ami lets her do just that.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

#Macarena Achaga #hocus pocus #taken female #taken bio #female bio #skeleton rp #disney rp

[owo-shenanigans]

I see that Danganronpa requests are open again! Could i request Chihiro, Shuichi, and Chiaki with an S/O who’s initially super nervous about coming out to them as transfem, but eventually gains the confidence to do so?

-

Yeah i will. But also fuck you for choosing a character in each goddamn game its such a pain putting these in my masterlist. I cut Chiaki because of that. (NOTE: I use they / them pronouns for Chihiro because I’ve heard good arguments both ways, and as someone who doesn’t care about gender at all I don’t have a horse in this race.)

Chihiro and Shuichi with a transfem s/o

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

They could probably tell that you were starting to question your gender, considering the two of you became friends very quickly at the start of the year.

When you came out to them, squeezing your hands and looking anywhere but at their face they hastened to reassure you.

“I’m glad you were able to figure it out.” They offered a bright smile as they squeezed your hands. “That’s always such a reassuring feeling. I’d be glad to help you go shopping for clothes!”

They don’t actually like going shopping much, as getting called miss by strangers makes her uneasy, but they’re willing to do it to make you more comfortable! Honestly they aren’t the best shopping buddy- they’ll say everything looks good on you, and their personal style is ‘what won’t let my skin stick to my seat after I’ve spent 12 hours coding’.

Chihiro even bit the bullet and asked Celeste if she had any clothing recommendations for you, as Junko is too terrifying for them to ask.

Celeste got very into it and took you on multiple shopping expeditions, paying for the clothes that she decided flattered your figure in her favorite shops (that you wouldn’t be able to afford for 50 years). Celeste is transfem too. I will kill on this hill.

SHUICHI SAIHARA

When you told him, he nodded. He had suspected based on a few factors- your look of discomfort when called sir, websites about how to socially transition were open in your browser when you passed it over to him, and a few other things combined.

He only shrugged and asked if you wanted to go shopping with his aunt. She had been very disappointed that her neighbors cute niece had in fact been a shy boy all those years ago, after all!

He also sucks to shop with. He’s not the biggest fan of loud places and malls / large shops are like that. He’ll say you look good in everything you pick out, but if you decide on something he thought didn’t actually look good he’ll hem and haw until you finally manage to get him to admit that the collar color doesn’t really go with your eyes.

He’s very lowkey about it. He’s not very open about his own queerness, and unless you say otherwise he assumes you’re the same. He’s not ashamed, he just hates when people walk on eggshells for no reason around him.

#dr x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa imagines #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader

[anonymousedward]

Hello! Sorry if you already found this, but I was going through the reblogs on chuck's post because they made me happy, and decided to message folks who were asking about pronouns because I also wondered! Someone asked in replies if "man name of Chuck" should change, and Chuck said:

man name of chuck is good and so is way of he/him (maybe that could change in the future who knows). honestly my way is to just not think about it so in this zone of chucks life i just like trotting along keeping things way they are at least for the foreseeable future. thank you for asking bud very kind

Thank you! So I'll stick with he/him unless/until Chuck says otherwise. Very sweet of you to reach out!

[rotinfo]

rosalind park - a manifestation of feminine anger.

trigger warnings for mentions of abuse, domestic violence (not in detail but these are elements in her backstory), violence, blood.

dossier.

FULL NAME.  rosalind park / lee dasom

NICKNAMES. rosalind, rose

DOB.  unknown, turned into a vampire around 1940 to 1941

GENDER AND PRONOUNS. cis woman, she/her

ORIENTATION.  bisexual (fem-leaning)

SPECIES.  vampire

BIRTHPLACE.  unknown

CURRENT HOME. verse dependent

LANGUAGES.  english, korean, french, spanish, italian

ETHNICITY.  east asian (korean)

NOTABLE FEATURE(S). big doe eyes; rosalind possesses a vampiric "face" as well that is less than human but one she rarely wears in public for obvious reasons

skills.

OCCUPATION. lawyer, typically deals with women's rights and celebrity lawsuits

EDUCATION LEVEL. her current resume says she has a law degree and an undergraduate degree in gender studies

SKILLS. typical strengths of a vampire - as one that sticks to a human blood only diet, rosalind is at peak supernatural condition

LIMITATIONS. repelled by "religious" items and places that hold religious significance; inability to enter residences unless invited in by the owner; sunlight, silver and oak can also be used to weaken or even kill her

psyche.

POSITIVE TRAITS.  determined, compassionate, meticulous, nurturing

NEUTRAL TRAITS.  balanced, level-headed, intelligent

NEGATIVE TRAITS.  abrasive, petty, vengeful, manipulative

LIKES. the finer things in life, studying, movies about feminine rage and manipulation, the smell of old books, video games that let her build and run towns or villages

DISLIKES. angry men, people being mean to children,

MBTI.  istj

TEMPERAMENT.  choleric

MENTAL DISORDERS.  ptsd - even as a vampire, rosalind is triggered by a specific scent of alcohol (gin) and enclosed spaces

FACE CLAIM.  park sooyoung

biography.

turned into a vampire in 1940 following being beaten to near death by her then husband, rosalind was taken in and turned by a vampire couple who took pity on her.

a few years into her life as a vampire, rosalind took revenge on her husband. it became clear that he wouldn't answer for her death - by now ruled as an unfortunate incident despite her body never being found - and the idea became her driving force. first by tormenting him psychologically, and then finally ending his life, also by torture. she waited until she was able to better control her "appetites" before coming for him.

in the present day, rosalind is a lawyer, presenting herself as love park's sister - for all intents and purposes and in every sense of the word, they are family - and their legal representative. outside of this, she takes on cases for victims of domestic vi*lence and abuse. rosalind's success rate is high, and any people that she does end up losing to, well ... the other party tends to mysteriously vanish or die, either by their own hand or in some other unfortunate incident. it's not like they'll be missed anyway.

muse specific notes.

rosalind's vampire lore and backstory falls in line with that of @stamour's. any mentions of her sibling refer to love park.

she has no information on her human family, and this is by choice. she's resentful of the fact that she was forced into the marriage as she feels like that was the cause of her death. she finds her vampirism more freeing, as it brought her to her current family and gave her the means to protect others.

rosalind does not drink animal blood. she prefers human blood as it keeps her strong enough than most vampires. she also prefers taking blood from people who won't be easily found or missed should she kill them, and she prefers drinking directly from people or if needed, from blood bags. she holds no qualms about this morally or otherwise - it's simply the way she eats, and has little patience for vampires who feel otherwise or try to make her see differently.

she's love park's number one apologist and fan. they can do nothing wrong in her eyes and she will 100% cover up anything love needs covering up !!!

muse specific notes.

to be determined.

#rosalind park. #muse information.

[notepadsandtealeaves]

K. Bokuto || Say My Name A Thot’s Thoughts 💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | hq tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: This damned thirst dream that won’t leave me be until I write it out ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((*whacks minors on the nose with a rolled up newspaper* No! Not for you!!)) ↠ Chronology: Post time skip. ↠ CWs/TWs: Any applicable warnings can be found in the tag list under the cut. ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 2.3k~

“I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

He’ll get what he wants—even if he has to fuck it out of you…

I want this man to snap my spine like a gd glow stick. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

((p*rn with v. little plot ahead, in case you somehow couldn’t figure that out lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns (tho I don’t think Reader’s pronouns actually come up in this? dk how I managed that *shrugs*) | Reader has ambiguous anatomy | Penetrative sex (missionary that turns into a mating press, Reader receiving) | Rough-ish sex (some grabbing of the face, and like he’s really laying into you, but it doesn’t get too heavy) | ((so maybe it’s more ‘hard’ than ‘rough’?? idk, I’ll let you lot decide)) | ((also, Bo’s a lil bit feral in this one, ngl)) | Some dom/sub undertones | ((my subby ass is predictable as hell, so are you even surprised at this point?? lmao)) | A smattering of ✨ ~Size kink~ ✨️ | ((Bo’s a big, big boy with a big, BIG dick, but I digress)) | Use of petnames (pretty baby, sweetheart, that kinda beat) | Also Bo’s got a bit of voice kink—who saw that one coming?? | ((me, I did, because I just made it a thing lol)) | Unprotected Sex because is fic, and is hot in fic. Don’t the thing irl unless you take proper precautions and discuss it with your partner well beforehand, mmkay? Mmkay… | Also what probably amounts to an unrealistic amount of cum, but look—I’ve got my kinks, okay? Lmao | Also, also—potentially OOC Bokuto if you canon him to be soft ‘n’ sweet in bed. He can be, and is a good portion of the time, but like… sometimes he just wants to bully you a bit while he fucks you into the mattress, yanno? | Also, also, also—unintentional cockwarming | Sappy ending because OP is a giant bb that just wants to be loved

“Bo-Bokuto, gods, please,” you damn near sob, the pleasure coursing through the whole of your body setting your hands to feebly grasping at the sheets, your face, and anything else you can reach in an attempt to ground yourself.

For his part the man above you is distinctly unamused, though for the life of you, you cannot figure out why that is–

“That’s not my name, baby. Not when I’m taking you like this.”

Oh. That.

In all honesty, you don’t think anyone can blame you for the slip up—after all, the pair of you were little more than acquaintances just a week ago. Sure, you’d been keeping up a line of friendly banter on those not-so-rare occasions when he decided to grace your little deli with his presence, and yeah you could reliably call him a regular at this point, but still you’d hardly been expecting him to ask you out when he bounded through the door last Friday. What’s more you didn’t think that your very first date would go so well that he would be taking you on another just a few days later, and finally a third one two days after that. To say that the pair of you are speed running your relationship is an understatement, and yet somehow things don’t feel rushed in the slightest.

This is more than likely due to what you’ve now dubbed the ‘Bokuto Effect’.

Said effect seems to lend an air of stability to actions that would otherwise leave you recoiling. And how can it not when he’s just so… him. Kind and sweet, caring and compassionate… You may not have known him for long, but you’re thoroughly convinced that there’s not a malicious bone in this man’s body. This is why you allowed him to follow you up to your apartment tonight, despite it having been technically less than a week of your being together—gods, are you even together? You have no idea as you’ve yet to actually talk about anything even remotely close to that, much less bothered about putting a label on it. There’s no time to consider something that ultimately feels tangential when you’re in the middle of falling at a breakneck speed.

(You can only hope that he feels the same, this quickening that has you casting aside a lifetime’s worth sensibility and letting him in like this. It’s hard to tell when he’s always smiling, always laughing, always keeping it light and bubbly and wonderful…)

In the now Bokuto—no, Koutaro—parts his lips around a particularly vicious looking grin. “I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

You try, you swear you do, but when he’s drilling so deeply into you, his thick head scraping against that one spot with every drag of his thick cock… words become understandably difficult. You slur out something with roughly the same composition as the appellation (you think) but valiant though they are, your efforts are not enough to appease him. The sound of his laugh paired with the glint in his eyes has you shivering underneath him. Who knew he could wear ‘cocky bastard’ so well?

“Aww, listen to you,” he coos, condescension dripping from every syllable. “Cock drunk already, baby? Can’t say my name because you can’t remember it, huh? Well lemme help you out.”

Suddenly the legs that had been tossed over his broad (so, so damn broad—fuck) shoulders are being pushed up against your chest with the whole of his impressive weight following closely behind. Your resulting scream is loud enough that you’re sure to get a noise complain or several, and maybe even a visit from the cops if your neighbors confuse your bliss for a legitimate cry for help. But those are all distant worries, things that cannot find a permanent home in a mind that is far too clouded with lust and a resounding chant of more-more-MORE.

You claw at his back as he bottoms out over and over again, marking territory that you’re not entirely sure is yours to claim; the sounds that are pouring out of you all the while would be mortifying, you’re sure, if you weren’t so lost in the sex fog. For his part, the man above you is just as vocal, with a series of hisses, groans, and chuckles falling past his lips as he works at dismantling you, piece by needy piece. It seems to take him a few moments to remember his original goal—or maybe it’s more so a case of an artist admiring his work—but once he does…

“Kou- “-tar- “-o.”

He fucks the syllables into you, growling them directly in your face each time his hips come to press flush against the plush of your ass and thighs. He repeats it again and then a third time before he palms the bottom half of your face. That he can cover such an impressive area with just one hand should probably unnerve you, but as it stands the size disparity only makes you hotter. You moan into his grasp only to have the sound scale up into a squeak when he smooshes your cheeks inwards with a flex of his fingers. The movement sees your lips jutting and puckering in what you’re sure has to be an extremely unflattering matter, but if he minds the view he doesn’t show it.

“Come on, pretty baby,” he starts, voice surprisingly even (or maybe not, given his job’s stamina requirements), “I know you’re feelin’ good, but that doesn’t excuse your bad behavior. Now say it with me—Kou-tar-o.”

“Kou- Kou—ahh~! Fuck, so good–”

He tuts at that, his grip going that tiny bit tighter. “Focus, baby. Kou-”

“Kou-” you repeat, the breathy quality of your voice reducing the sound to little more than a pant.

“-tar-”

“-tar-”

“-o.”

“-oo-ooo shit!”

When you feel the first brush of his fingers against your sex the only thing that keeps you from vaulting straight off of the bed is the sheer size of him. You’d been so focused on getting things right (on giving him what he wants) that you hadn’t noticed his free hand moving to what little space there is to be found between you. Years of honing his craft has left the thing roughened with thick callouses; they had felt a bit odd against your own smoother palm when he’d held your hand earlier in the day, but feeling them now… The scrape is addicting, adding an extra delicious layer to the pleasure of him working over your core with a precision that shouldn’t be possible as this is the first time you’ve been together like this–

Just yet another result of the Bokuto Effect, you suppose.

Koutaro kisses you deeply then, greedily filling up his lungs with your moans even as he empties out your own. When he breaks away with a growled pant some long seconds later he’s all wide, wild eyes and pouring praise.

“That’s good, baby—fuck, it sounds so good when you say it like that. K-keep doin’ that f’me, yeah? Keep screaming my name and I promise I’ll make you feel so, so good– Gods, you’re so good…”

And he’s as good as his word.

Every utterance of his name sees him taking you harder, impossibly deeper, and faster. It’s a loop of pleasure that is all too easy to fall into; your whimpering cries giving him what he wants as his rolling hips work hard to give you what you need. Sweat darkens the lighter strands of his hair at the base turning the pale silver into something more akin to slate, with the salty liquid occasionally breaking past his hairline to slide down the chiseled contours of his face. Knowing that he—a professional athlete who is in near godly shape—is fucking you hard enough to actually break a sweat is a heady thing, one that draws you yet closer to your end.

With your orgasm so close at hand your brain’s higher functions all but cease. All there is in this moment is you and him and the one word that is left to you: Koutaro.

“Sound so pretty,” he tells you before pressing a quick kiss to your mumbling lips. “Gods, babe, I’m close—so damn close, I– ah-ah-ah shit!” A particularly decadent roll of his hips nearly sees you both shaking apart right then and there, but he pulls back some—just a bit, just enough to draw things out a little longer.

“‘M close,” you tell him a short while later, your declaration sounding more like a lament than anything. You don’t want this to end, but at the same time you need it to if only for your poor battered hole’s sake. “Fuck, Kou, please…”

He softens a bit at that, those molten pools of gold syruping with something tender as he takes in your fucked out expression. “I got you, baby, I promise—you cum when you need to, ‘kay? Do it and I’ll be right there with you…”

This touch of gentleness is well at odds with the way he continues to take your body through its paces, and that dichotomy is the very thing that finally drives you over the edge. You manage to eke out his name one final time, and the choked cry is enough to see him falling into bliss with you. His hips stutter compulsively as rope after hot, thick rope of cum shoots into you. You can feel it squelching out of you every time he pulls back, the liquid gliding warm and viscous over your skin to drip down and pool underneath you in a small puddle that’s only going to get bigger when he pulls out—if he pulls out. It certainly doesn’t seems as if he plans to anytime soon, not with the way he’s kissing you all over your face and neck, the ministrations cut through with praise and little love-drunk giggles.

Once he’s come back to himself, Koutaro flips you both over so that you’re resting against his chest—single-handedly, a thing that’s way hotter than such a simple action should be—with his softened cock still tucked snugly inside of you. You can tell the exact moment his skin makes contact with the cooling wet spot because he yelps before jerking you both over to the left. You’re just as love-drunk as he is apparently because you cannot stop giggling all the while, giddy at the return of the silly antics that had drawn you to him in the first place (not that you mind seeing this other, darker, more mature version of him at all).

He tilts your head up towards him for a short, sweet kiss before asking, “What ya laughing at, pretty?”

“You.”

“Wow, rude.”

“Whatever, you like it,” you tease as you prop yourself up against his chest.

“I mean… yeah,” he concedes with a laugh, “but only because it’s you.”

There’s a tenderness to his gaze that turns the simple phrase into an admission and you find yourself ducking your head in an attempt to conceal just how flustered it’s left you. Suddenly the scar underneath his right pec is the most interesting thing in the world, and you find yourself lightly tracing over it as you mutter out a quiet, “Oh really?”

“Mmhmm.” As the onomatopoeic sound vibrates through his chest and up into you it somehow manages to carry far more truth than something more elegant could ever hope to—because it’s real, because it’s him.

“I like you a whole helluva lot, ____,” he continues on, “and if I’m being completely honest I’m really hoping that I didn’t screw things up.”

That’s enough to get you to look up again, and Koutaro takes in your confused look with a sheepish expression of his own. “Yanno, with all of this.” He gestures vaguely over the length of your still naked bodies. “I, um… I have a tendency to go full tilt when it’s something I want, but that’s not always the move when it comes to relationships—or am I presuming too much in calling what we’ve got a ‘relationship’? I don’t think I am, not with the way you’re smiling, but…”

You swat at his chest and earn another heart stopping kiss for your troubles. The man—your man?—underneath you gives you his signature megawatt grin, though it fades into something softer and more intimate as he regards you.

“I think you’ve already given me your answer, but just to make sure—can I call you mine?”

You trail your fingers over the expanse of his well-defined jawline before cradling his cheek in your palm as you tell him, “Only if I can call you mine, too.”

He huffs out a laugh as he nods a bit before nuzzling into your hand. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Good.”

“Great,” he amends.

“Fantastic, even.”

“Stupendous.”

“Amazing.”

“Wonderful…”

The pair of you carry on like that for a good while, exhausting your vocabularies and arguing over synonyms in between laughter and sweet kisses until rumbling stomachs demand their due.

|| Bonus

Imagine sitting in Bo’s lap while he feeds you your snack of choice. You’re both still nude because why the fuck not, tho he has opted to get you a nice, soft blanket to burrito in. So anyways, he feeding you while you guys are watching something on the television, and he finds said something v. interesting—so interesting, in fact, that the next morsel he feeds you gets shoved damn near into the back of your throat.

Cue him laughing out an apology for gagging you—“I didn’t do it on purpose, baby, I swear!”—and kissing away the compulsory tears that are streaming down your cheeks from nearly having your life ended by a set of ridiculously long fingers and a fucking Dorito or whatever the fuck he was feeding you lmfao…

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#back at it again with the thirst lmao #anyways... #((Immy does fan fiction: The Volleybaes)) #((💦 posts)) #bokuto x reader #bokuto x gn!reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #bokuto smut #bokuto imagine #bokuto scenario #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu smut

[pinefem]

i gotta say. watching 3 of my best friends in the whole world slowly descend into trans identification is heartbreaking. from when i was 12 to when i was 15 to now, 18 years old, it's been heartbreaking every time. the first one pushed me to identify as trans myself. it was a difficult, confusing time. i struggle to cope with knowing that others perceive themselves as somehow more manly and masculine than me because of how they identify (tell me they don't all you want, you're lying to yourself). when i was 15, my best friend and i parted ways because it was so devastating to me when she made her way into it. i could not understand why i was so broken up, why i couldn't just accept her, but i was, and i couldn't. a year later i found out she identified as trans. getting to know her again, seeing how female she is and how different she is from men and knowing that one day she may try to change herself, i couldn't stick around. it pushed me over the edge. i cut her out of my life, and i finally started to re evaluate my approach to these things. that one is especially devastating because i know there is a point when i could've convinced her of this, but she felt just as alone and confused as a gnc woman as i always did, and had no way to put it into words. fast forward to now, my closest friend is starting to go by he/him pronouns. she told me she relates to male characters a lot more than female characters, that she is the men she looks up to, and i feel so upset. i've spent months trying to overcome my preference for male characters. i have kept her up to date on my journey. i have had deep conversations with her about feminism, telling her that we were not born into it. making it clear that it's just offensive to me that people think there's some innate male masculinity, but she slowly veered in the other direction, praising trans women for their "beauty" and "bravery," and calling traditional female gender roles empowering.

here's some more backgroujd on her: this woman has like, 6 gay male couples (my opinion on gay ocs is unless they're made by gay/bi men, they're usually just a way to avoid writing female characters). she has 3 or so butch characters, and all of them "wear makeup casually sometimes." none of the men do. (those women ain't butch.) she pulled timeline on me, but i'm calling fucking bullshit. there were plenty of he/him lesbians. but to her, those lesbians weren't women, they were non-binary. she also has like, proper trans characters in the 1920s. she also has one gay male character who's married to a lesbian, which was like, fine, and then she tells me that the lesbian later becomes a surrogate for him and his boyfriend's baby. she doesn't even help raise the baby. it's fucking horrifying. she's obsessed with those 2 male characters, and the women are just fucking supports for their story. the girl's just a fucking incubator. she didn't even have a girlfriend until i pointed out how poorly developed she was.

she told me to listen to butch4butch by rio romeo, and said i might like rio romeo, so i begrudgingly checked her out, and rio romeo turns out to be a "non-binary butch." she isn't even butch. she wears eyeliner, and is like, more alternative than anything. if a man dressed like she did, he'd get called effeminate and gay. my friend (and tons of other tras) think that female masculinity is like, short hair and hoodies, and if you have masculine traits they need to be balanced out, otherwise you aren't a woman. it's fucked up and just,, wrong.

this girl also repeatedly told me to make my gay male oc a trans woman. i was talking about how i wasn't super enthusiastic about him and his bf anymore bc i realized i'm a lesbian, but i'm already super attached to them, even as they are. him being a woman doesn't work for the story, since he needs to unknowingly a woman pregnant for the whole thing to work. it's already bad as it is, but for him to unknowingly get a woman pregnant, "realize" he's "actually a woman," and then pretend to be a woman? actually disgusting. but she kept pushing it. it was so fucking sickening every time. also, lmao, his bf's sister is a terf (and she has been even since before i was) and she would disown him if he dated a tim, but he would never bc he listens to her. it would never work.

uh... let's see. when she told me she isn't a woman and she's considering going by she/they/he pronouns, she told me that it's because she doesn't like being called ma'am, and she prefers male characters. she has some sort of connection to them (yes, as if male characters are actually fundamentally different from female characters and not written differently because of misogyny). like, me too girl. my whole fucking life. the difference between you n me is i don't lie back and whine and say "i can't help it! it's just how i am!" i get up and i fix my shit and re-examine my thoughts about groups of people. i have always, always been one to work through my issues and try to be the best i can be. you clearly haven't. ugh

i just want a best friend who won't end up like this, please.

#terf vent #vent #terf #radical feminist #radical feminism #radfem #terfs do interact #terf safe #tra #liberal feminism

[rucow]

massive nerevoryn hcs, beware

I have nerevoryn brainworms that torment me day and night, so I answered this ask game under the cut (I did this for myself not for anyone else, pls be nice and ignore it if u don’t like something you see here!)

(A lil clarification: I headcanon Voryn as nonbinary and I use they/them pronouns for them, also they’re ace and afab in my hc, pls look away if that makes u uncomfy) • How did they first meet? They met when Nerevar was hopping from House to House to ask to be supported as Hortator, he just kinda showed up at Voryn's home outta nowhere and was met with 38237 identical serious Dagoth siblings. I can’t think about it without laughing dgsfh

• What was their first impression of each other? Voryn thought Nerevar a fool at first, for coming all the way to Kogoruhn just to ask for political support and to justify /why/ he should be politically supported However, Voryn saw almost instantly that Nerevar was genuine and driven and had strong ambitions for Resdayn, and they ended up agreeing on a lot of things. Meanwhile, Nerevar's first impression of Voryn was...kinda non-existent? He didn't pay much attention to them and didn't differentiate much between Voryn and their siblings. They were all just a bunch of polite goths to him, so he liked them from the beginning 😹

• Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Voryn's family was neutral and maybe a lil cautious, but ultimately didn't interfere at all and they quickly accepted Nerevar as part of their family Nerevar has no family, though I consider Vivec to be his family in some way. But no, Vivec didn't really want them to get together :') (he didn't like Voryn very much in the beginning, he thought they're boring, too serious, and has no sense of humor LOL but he warms up to them after a while.. he won’t stop messing with them tho, bc they’re rly easy to tease and that’s fun) • Who felt romantic feelings first? Voryn did. Nerevar's feelings only started ages later, he's not really the type to sit down and analyze/reflect on his feelings, so he didn't realize he had romantic feelings until they hit him full force LOL • Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Voryn tried, but gave up and opted for hiding their feelings instead of suppressing them 😔 • If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? They would believe it. Nerevar wouldn't immediately assume it means "romantic soulmate" though, he already sees Voryn as a very close friend so the news that they're soulmates makes perfect sense to him. On the other hand, Voryn wouldn't be surprised to find out they're soulmates, but they'd feel like it's a cruel thing to do to them both, since they can't be together openly and in the way that they want to be. It would be heartbreaking to them :’/ • What would their lives be like if they had never met? Voryn's life would've remained quiet and uneventful, most likely. And they wouldn’t have ended up the way they did in canon.  Nerevar is an unpredictable mystery though so I have no idea, maybe he'd go down a different path and take some impulsive bad decisions in his life 🤔 oh wait he already does that nvm • Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Nerevar initiated it. Voryn has had feelings for him for a very long time, but at first they didn't want to be in a relationship with Nerevar due to how complicated it would be, but yeah...they couldn't ignore their heart's call, and definitely couldn't refuse Nerevar when he started returning the feelings :') • Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? YEAH!! I have no idea though! It would've been secret but very nice and romantic :'D • What was their first kiss like? It was intimate, and heavy. It was packed full of years of suppressed feelings and wishes. Voryn may have teared up a bit lmao • Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Nerevar has already had relationships (though nothing long-term) and has had...experience with ppl, in all meanings Nerevar WAS Voryn's first everything though! Mainly because Voryn has never had much interest in ppl before, and just the thought of kissing grosses them out, unless it’s with the right person ofc uwu • What’s their height difference? Age difference? Nerevar is 6'1 and Voryn is 5′6-5'7, they're the same age though! • What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Nerevar likes the dagoths. They don’t pry into his business (ahem, affair*) with Voryn and they always welcome him to Kogoruhn with no problem (aka they tolerate his out-of-nowhere appearances and occassional odd behavior). He finds it a bit unsettling that Voryn has so many siblings but he doesn’t question it. Voryn tries to get along with Vivec, even tho the younger makes it difficult. Voryn is an older sibling, so they have the patience to deal with a younger moodier mer who’s hellbent on disliking them for no reason LOL • Who takes the lead in social situations? Nerevar does, Voryn is really awkward at socializing and hates doing it too 😹 • Who gets jealous easier? They both do, but their jealousy manifests in different ways. Nerevar is much more vocal/open about it. Voryn doesn't give him any reasons to be jealous tho, at least not on purpose 🤧 • Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? UHH neither of them does 😳 ...unless they've been drinking, then they both do it fjdhsn (Voryn won’t say anything explicit tho, just rly cheesy declarations of love or something SOBS) • Who said “I love you” first? Voryn said it first, but only after Nerevar had already confessed his feelings :’) they needed to be sure they wouldn’t get rejected bc that would just break their heart tbh • Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Both do, but they mean it in all seriousness, and they believe every word the other says. • How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? PDA is a big no-no for obvious reasons, unless it's only around trustworthy ppl like Alandro Sul and Voryn's family. Yes, Alan my boi is chill with all of this hehe • Who initiates kisses? Nerevar. He's very touchy uwu • Who’s the big and little spoon? Nere's the big spoon, usually. Voryn's like...a stick...though they can get clingy in their sleep /sobs • What are their favorite things to do together? Having time to spend together is rare for them, so they treasure every little moment they have. They both prefer spending time completely alone with one another, somewhere far and secluded where they can’t see or hear any other people. Nerevar needs moments of quietness to recharge after dealing with so many ppl in his daily affairs, so he really appreciates Voryn’s company bc their energy is very calming and they’re just quiet and pleasant in general.... they’re the type to sit in comfortable silence and just lean on one another as the world fades around them :’) • Who’s better at comforting the other? They know each other very well, so they're both amazing at comforting each other, except it's a lot easier for Voryn to comfort Nerevar solely because Voryn isn't as open about their emotions as he is, and doesn't want to worry Nerevar with anything, so they keep their emotions/pain private much more than Nerevar does. Nere's more open about things that bother him and spills his soul out to Voryn often lol • Who’s more protective? Oh gosh they are both overprotective of one another, they live dangerous lives after all. However, Voryn's the type to get physically sick by worrying over Nerevar's well-being... Nerevar doesn't handle it any better tho, he would become very spooky and destructive if anything happened to Voryn 👀 • Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Nerevar prefers verbal affection from Voryn, because he knows Voryn’s words are always truthful. Voryn prefers physical affection from Nerevar though, because they know he uses verbal affection with a lot of people, so the physical kind feels more personal and genuine to them u_u • What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? ... I must warn u. my taste in music is maybe TOO happy/sappy for these two, but anyway.. here u go (all these songs are from Voryn’s POV): 1. the lyrics and overall aesthetic and feel of this song.. it suits them in my hc a lot :’( 2. by the same singer, this song HHNGN the lyrics just make me think of how voryn sees nerevar 3. something even more light-hearted... sorry there’s no eng subs but trust me the lyrics are beautiful, the bridge especially makes me cry it’s so pretty.. and 「美しい心を持っている、ずっとこの海よりも深い」 😭 BASICALLY ANY LOVE SONGS MAKE ME THINK OF THEM 😭😭 • Who remembers the little things? Voryn's memory is impeccable. Nerevar is kinda airheaded, he doesn't remember things consciously but he remembers them in his heart • If they get married, who proposes? Voryn does! Though it's not a typical proposal, because their relationship isn't typical either. They simply propose that they both should undergo a ritual to bring them (more specifically, their souls) closer together... It’s the same ritual that Voryn’s mother did to their father, and they learned it from her before she disappeared/passed • What’s the wedding like? Who attends? It's a secret one, so no one attends it besides the two. It's not a wedding though, it's more like a romantic ritual conducted by Voryn themself, where they link their souls/hearts together :') it happens at nighttime in a secluded place, probably a cave with an open sky... somewhere in nature far away from any civilization • How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? They have one very rambunctious but sweet daughter! She inherits a LOT of Nerevar’s looks and personality, even his ideals and stuff (once she grows up) • Do they have any pets? Nerevar doesn't have any, but he loves animals. Voryn's home has plenty of domestic animals/creatures though, much to Nerevar's joy 👌 (yes I hc the dagoths to be farmers bc I love the thought of a goth farm) • Who’s the stricter parent? Voryn. Though they're still very mild, just. more cautious about parenting than Nerevar is?? And unlike him, they actually teach their kid manners djfnsf • Who kills the bugs in the house? VORYN. They have no fear of bugs and actually know how to handle them really well! • How do they celebrate holidays? Not together :'( </3 • Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Voryn. Nerevar's an early morning person, while Voryn just wants to be lazy and stay in bed until noon. Voryn has sleepy b* disease • Who’s the better cook? Dare I say both??? >:)c Voryn likes baking more than cooking though, so when they have the time for it, they like treating Nerevar with sweets u_u✨ Nerevar doesn’t really have a sweet tooth though, he’ll just engulf anything that Voryn or their family cooks LOL

#I couldn't control myself I NEED to talk about them they're ruling my life ever since I played morrowind last year #nerevoryn #voryn dagoth #nerevar #voryn #txt #i love htem

[mmm-veggies]

chapter 1. Hope

Warning- slight violence, death but not described, mentions of past abuse (if there's anything else let me know)

The sounds of panting and sticks breaking mix together as I run through the woods trying to get away. Mom?! Please please don't do this. You don't have to do this. We can figure out a way, voices and screams overlapping as I try and get the memories out of my head. I have to stop thinking about stuff. I can't change what happened. The only thing to do now is move forward, I say to myself, oh who am I kidding like that's going to make me feel better. Every breath I take has a burning sting in my lungs. Looking over my shoulder to see if I'm far enough away from them.  Frantically looking for something to hide behind when an old, tall and wide tree catches my eye. Wait, I've never seen these trees. The tree could've easily hid 3 large men behind it. Oh no, my face goes numb as I realize that I'm hopelessly lost. Putting my hands to my face to cry in my frustration. God how am I supposed to get away when I don't even know where I am. I sigh into my hands and whisper, "I'm gonna die." 

Snap

My stomach drops as I hear a branch snap. Slowly picking my head up trying not to raise too much suspicion, what was that. Cautiously looking at my surroundings, I can't see anyone. Slowly creeping around the tree.

Snap

There it is again, someone has to be here. I stopped walking around the tree and started searching for the person cloaked in the darkness. That's when I start to feel someone's hand slowly come from behind and quickly cover my mouth. They thrash me up against the tree, their hand still over my mouth. The other is close to my waist, trapping me in.

"When I take my hand off you don't scream, got it," they say darkly, their voice low and raspy, with some feminine touches to it. I Look up to see a hooded figure, their face hidden perfectly in the shadows. They are at least a head taller than me, and more lanky looking. The cloak they are wearing is a charcoal color that completely engulfs them, with sleek black pants to match, and a white poet's blouse. Slowly they moved their hand off my mouth; They looked  me dead in the eyes, making sure I didn't try anything. As I raise my hands above my head to show mercy they start to rest their hand on my throat, most likely a warning to make sure I stay compliant.  i 

"Now who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Listen I'm not trying to start anything, I'm just trying to get away from some people alright," I state lightly; trying to persuade them so I can get out of this predicament. 

"Ahh so you are running away from them," they say with a smooth voice.

"Yes, and I need to get going now", As the words pour out of my mouth I cringe at my failed attempt at sounding confident. 

Smugly, they tilt their head to the side like they were planning their next move, "hm why should I, there might be some money on your pretty little head," smirking as i suddenly tense up, "or maybe," they give a feral smile and reveal their dagger like fangs, "I'll just kill you."

"Wait wait wait wait I uh," think of an excuse quickly, "I can help you."  I hope they ignore the squeak at the end of that statement. 

" Now why would I need your help," their voice hinting at slight curiosity.

"Well I don't know exactly what, but I'm sure I  can be of some help to you. I'm fairly strong and independent," I rush out, trying to convince this stranger to let me go with them so that I can at least get away from those horrible people.

A slimy voice comes out from the trees farther away but it's starting to inch closer to where the stranger and I are standing. The fear of going away with them or getting caught even paralyzes my body. I gotta get out of here, think think think. Thoughts rapidly go through my mind for a possible escape route. 

"Hey," the  smooth,deep voice snaps me out of my thoughts, "you can come with me for a little while, but not a long time, we can start our trip after I take care of these pathetic humans, alright?"

I simply nodded my head, not trusting my words as relief floods over me like a storm. But why describe humans in such a way? The only people I've ever heard describe humans like that would be my family but we are...unless. I shake my head at the thought. No they couldn't possibly be like me. Why would I even think like that, I'm the freak here, not them.

"Now close your eyes, and whatever you do, don't open them until I say otherwise.", their tone is urgent as they spit out directions to me. "Oh and hold on to my rat Enzo and don't squish him."  I look down to see a snow white rat with red eyes sniffing my hand. They move their hood so I can only see their mouth. Nodding my head, I do as they say, "good."  Hearing footsteps from different directions I try to comprehend what the stranger was doing. One human seems to be running away after a distinct crack was heard and then a large thump. More footsteps could now be heard running in the direction the first two were heading in. My eyebrows furrow,  trying to figure out what was going on.

"Why do you look constipated?" 

"What I-"

"Oh yeah, you can open our eyes now and give me my rat back"

Handing over the rat and I look up to see the stranger's face for the first time. They had short, dark brown hair, with a slight wave at the top of their head. Freckles were splattered across their cheeks and nose and spread out across the rest of their face, giving a slightly softer look. Their jaw line however,  was sharp and complemented their highly defined collarbone. Do they even eat? The Eyes are what really caught my attention though. Two ruby caverns, staring at me in a lazy, almost bored look.Once our little staring contest finished they went on to fixing their cloak to brush off the dirt that was on it, I could see that they had lanky hands, the ones that were good for pick pocketing and picking locks. The rest of Their body was lean, yet still had defined muscles, the kind you get from moving from place to place and working odd jobs.As for their skin, it was pale as if they were a corpse. Seriously, do they even know what the sun is? 

"Alright we better get going before any other moron delays me from getting you to where you need to be, so then I can be on my merry way," they state sarcastically while putting their black cloak on.

"Hey wait," I stutter out while reaching for their arm. They stare back at me, oh god I just grabbed onto a random stranger who I just met, "listen I don't know what you did sir- uhh ma'am- ummmm mysterious...," Stars, I can't tell what gender they are. Sure they look masculine, but they have a lighter voice when they talk. And have some feminine looking features. But still they could go both ways. Staring up at them with a stern look in my eyes, "um I don't know what you just did, but I do know that it doesn't make sense so you better start talking or I'll turn you in for killing a human.", I say in a matter of fact tone and crossing my arms over my chest. Okay that wasn't too bad, maybe I can take control of this situation. After all, what could they possibly do that could harm me of all things.

 They cock an eyebrow at me, look me up and down and start to slowly walk closer to me. Well there goes taking control of the situation. I purse my lips tilting my head up to look at them, trying to stand my ground but it is harder to sense they're like 6'1. 

"Listen here lady, one how do you even know I killed a man when you were closing your eyes the whole time unless you got some abilities yourself, and two it's sir for today but it changes from time to time, but don't worry I'll keep you updated." 

"Ok, well then sir, if you explain to me what happened then I'll tell you anything you want to know about me, deal," I reach my hand out for them to shake with a smile, waiting for my answer.

He looks at me for a time before giving me a sigh and putting his hand out to shake mine as he nods. 

"Well come on we haven't got all day and  I can explain as we walk," he stated ,

"Well if we are going to be taking a long walk together we should probably introduce ourselves," He looks me up and down once more in slight judgement then sighs as he starts to explain, "my name's arrow, but just like the pronouns I'll tell you when they change."

"Alright," I say with a smile, "It's very nice to meet you Arrow, I'm Hope."

~~~~~~

"Wait so you're a vampire...woah," I say in disbelief. I never really thought one Vampires existed, and two there would be other people who weren't human. 

"Yeah, pretty much been on this dumb planet for what feels like way too long, " he says in a nonchalant tone, "now what about you don't think I forgot the couple times you slipped up on yourself."

"Oh I uh," should I really tell this guy? What if something bad happens because of it? No, no he told me his secret so it's not a big deal if I tell him mine, "I'm a, uh , a werewolf." I say with a hesitant voice. 

It's weird telling someone this, growing up my mom taught me from a young age that I should never tell anyone that I'm a werewolf or bad things would come to me, but if I'm being honest it's nice to tell someone and someone who I can kinda relate to I guess.Still would have been nice to tell them on my own terms though.

"Woooow, Aren't we supposed to be like mortal enemies or something," a teasing voice coming from him.

"Pfftt whatever," I manage to say while laughing at his joke. I hear a small chuckle from him as well, "so, how much longer do we have to walk for?" I question peering up at his face.

"Mmmm I'd say probably another couple hours." Darn it! My feet are killing me!

And throughout those hours were probably the most interesting moments of my life. I mean I finally got to meet someone and tell them I'm a werewolf and have a pretty good time with them. The only people I even remember socializing with was my family, and they were, how do you say it...interesting. 

"Oh and by the way," I say. He looks down at me with a cocked eyebrow, "thanks for saving me from those people."

"Don't worry about it, I got hungry anyways."

~~~~~~ 

"Well here we are," he says as we peer down a pretty large hill to see a small trading town. The tavern lanterns glowing, workers moving around like ants at the docks. 

"Wow, it looks awesome," I say in disbelief.

Bending over to my level, looking at the town then to me, "you look like you've got stars in your eyes from seeing a lame trading post. I don't think I've ever met someone with such low standards to be gleeful about something."

"Hey that's rude," I say, crossing my arms. "I've never seen a town, I've always been told to stay home."

"Oh well I wouldn't get your hopes up, but we should head to the tavern," pointing to a wooden building with a drunk person puking next to the side of the building, and right as we look over a fight had broken down next the person.

"That one right there are you sure?", I laugh nervously.

"What you seemed so happy a couple seconds ago."

"I-," opening my mouth to say something but then just closing it knowing I wasn't going to win. Making our way down a trail to get there. Stop panicking, you'll be fine, there's no reason to panic. I'm sure the people there are lovely and it's only the people outside like that, I think trying to be more hopeful about what's going to happen inside the tavern.

Oh no. My face darkened as we got closer to the rowdy, loud voices coming from inside. The dark alleys with sketchy people, and weird people right in front of the door.

"Come on don't fall behind," Arrows voice grabbed my attention, I nod back to him. Walking in, seeing people getting even more loud which I didn't even think was possible. From laughing to arguing there was so much. How could a person even concentrate? Oh boy this is going to be one fun experience.

#fantasy #romance #demon #vampire #werewolf #angels

[qreektraqedy]

HEY  BESTIES  <333  i’m  veronica  (  she/they  ,  21  ,  pst  )   and  here  is  my  super  late  intro  ...  idk  what  to  say  abt  myself  lol  ...  pls  read  on  and  consider  listening  to  the fine sounds of rowan’s brain  while  perusing  this  bad  intro  .  also  everyone  say  thank  u  j  bc  otherwise  i  would  not  still  have  my  intro  omgg  

*   𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺 

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞  :  rowan  priam  davis   /   𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬   :  ro  /  row  ,  tbd .   /   𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫  +  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬  :  demiguy  ,  he  /  they   /    𝐝𝐨𝐛  :   7  june   /   𝐚𝐠𝐞  +  𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜  :  twenty - two  +  gemini   /   𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧  :   new  york .   /    𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 + 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭  :  12  + dionysus   /   𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞  :  brass knuckles   /   𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 :   english  +  greek  +  latin  +  french  +  spanish   /   𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭  :  5'10   /   𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬  :  irresponsible  ,  reticent  ,  disorganized  ,  impatient ,  stubborn  ,  selfish  ,  aloof    +    observant  ,  clever  ,   independent  ,  affable  ,  resourceful  ,  empathetic  ,  cooperative   /     𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢  :  entp  /  possible  estp .     /      𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩  :  any “bad boy” who is also the life of the party  ,  characters with similar mbti’s  / those who will push your buttons but you can never fully hate them  somehow  ...  tony stark of the marvel cinematic universe ,   jeff winger  of  community  ,  severus  snape  of  harry potter  ,  daniel desario of freaks and geeks  ,  etc .

*   𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 

rowan grew up in new york city where his mother worked on broadway and off - broadway shows for most of his life , though a few times he was dragged on nations tours .

rowan was brought to camp at fourteen where he was almost immediately claimed by dionysus . he wasn’t all that surprised, though, given who his mother is . ��rowan, surprisingly, didn’t get the acting gift, or rather, not the love for the stage. rowan is nothing if not dramatic and theatrical , though if you’d ask them , they would probably blame it all on the madness trait, which isnt’t true at all, but you don’t have to know that. 

TW MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL ADDICTION , END AT NEXT BULLET POINT  ...  rowan’s special talent of alcokinesis often makes him the life of the party , though other than the social aspect of being a walking keg , it’s caused him nothing but trouble in the past as he’s grown a sort of dependency on and addiction to it in the past  , though that’s something he keeps mostly secret and is trying to work past .  connection idea ... someone pls help him 

ANYWAYS ... rowan sticks to themself for the most part , unless they have some benefit of letting someone in usually . which leads us to the present . rowan is currently neutral . they know deep down what the right thing to do is , but their self destructive nature and reputation they’ve made for themself make that choice a difficult one that needs no immediate care . they’re waiting to see which side needs him more and why he should agree to join .

also  ...  rowan uses he and they pronouns and has openly for about five years  .  they aren’t a permanent year-rounder but has spent several years entirely on camp , especially in recent years . rowan secretly likes to sing and if he had to be in any show , it would be rent and as roger since they share a last name and are both moody . rowan likes to wear glitter eyeshadow a lot and paints his nails sometimes . his favourite genre of music is probably anything 90s . his mom has a strawberry allergy so rowan hardly gets to use his chlorokinesis for those . prefers red grapes over green .

*    𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺  ..  rowan identifies as pansexual so all of these are open to anyone  . 

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  :  best friend   ...    the ride or die   ,  the one person rowan is closest to in the entire world    +     frenemies   ...   they hate each other until it rly counts  ,  they'll have each other's backs when they need to    +     sibling - like friendship   /   without getting into the family tree of it all , someone who he can look up to or someone who for some reason looks up to him  ,  a confidant  +     flirtationship or will they , won't they   /   close friends or even enemies with romantic potential or tension , whether or not they realize it or have tried   +   party  friends  ...   u know the deal    +   idk how to descibe this one i’m dumb  ...  they just use each other for stuff like .. sneaking stuff in or training but don’t talk much outside of that  ,  they have each others backs but aren’t very close outside of when it benefits them despite their similarities   +   literally anything   /   also the aforementioned thing in the bullet points above lol

BELOW  is  literally  just  my  app . 

PART ONE.   /   ⟨  alex fitzalan , demiguy , he/they , twenty-two ⟩ there goes ROWAN DAVIS after the opposing team’s flag , the child of DIONYSUS who was claimed to CABIN 12 eight years ago . wielding their BRASS KNUCKLES , and their inherited ALCOKINESIS at the ready , they’re sure to lead their team to victory . after all , it was their demigod prowess that proved to be vital during the arduous and decisive QUEST FOR THE GOLDEN FLEECE ( demigod slot 8 ) they ventured on in the past . don’t let their feat fool you though , it was during this quest that they were challenged by their SELF-RELIANCE AND RECKLESSNESS. perhaps that is the reason they’ve chosen to be neutral . 

PART TWO.   /   whether or not rowan was helpful on their quest is something he finds subjective , his perception vs everyone else’s. he feels he was helpful in the broader sense , simply being a part of the little rescue team and confrontation of luke being the extent of his helpfulness. others might argue his quick thinking skills or boldness and courage pulled them out of certain stickier situations. though no one is likely to disagree that rowan’s alcokineses is useless around 90% of the time , 99% on quests, probably. like his current stance, and apparent attitude towards most things, rowan’s usefulness was neutral at best. if they’d had forced transformation instead, however, maybe things would’ve been different . 

PART THREE.  /  rowan, at the moment, is neutral, though leaning towards the olympians, morally. morals don’t mean a lot though , since right now they don’t see any rush or severity to the situation and picking a side and is mostly waiting to play their cards right , wants to know what each side has to offer that will benefit them the most. they knows it’s wrong, deep down, but can’t help it. 

PART FOUR.  /   ok hey guys here’s some messy headcanons taken from my app . 

rowan was brought to the camp at fourteen  …  prefers to stick to himself mostly and not get close to people or let them in very often  …  lives by keep ur friends close , enemies closer sort of , more like he just doesn’t let anyone super close unless he benefits in some way , it’s easier for him to not care than to get attached , self destructive sort of  …  not a bad person necessarily , but got that reputation and leans into it  …  very fake it til you make it , pretends to be confident but has no idea what he’s doing ever  …  reckless and refuses to analyze his mistakes to be better  …  feels useless a lot but hardly shows it , will sit and play it cool instead of moping  …  moved around a lot with his mother who is an actress – sometimes on broadway , sometimes in touring shows which she did whenever she worried about rowan’s safety  ...  when he tastes ambrosia he tastes the blueberry muffins his mom used to make him for breakfast to take to school

#titanomachyintro #━━ ‎ ♡ ‎ ❛ 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑦 ... 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒 / 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . #━━ ‎ ♡ ‎ ❛ 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑎 𝘩𝑖𝑡 + 𝑟𝑢𝑛 ... 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒 / 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑐 . #TLDR rowan is an asshole but hes got internal struggles ig

[talesfromlissom]

okami!hanzo... where his s/o... pet his fluffy wolves and do not pay attention to hanzo.. 😔 damn... sad day for hanzo.. wrong! hanzo eats out his s/o and demands their attention!☺️☺️ very sfw *wink wink, nudge nudge* 😳

!A/N! Lol, so basically I kinda switched everything in this ask :o. All my readers use he/him pronouns, (unless it's Tracer that’s the only time I’ll write a reader that uses she/her pronouns). And my readers are HARD TOPS SO UH YEAH YEEHAW

Basic Info:

 » You live in a small hut outside of the village, you mainly own lots of farm animals, and spend most of your time gardening

 » You’re a sorcerer, so you’re very in tune with nature and such, as well as emotions, not just your own 

 » Animals love you

(okay that’s it lol)

                                                 ──•~❉+❉~•──

Rules

Overwatch Masterlist 

Ninjago Masterlist

The Arcana Masterlist (WIP)

Ask Box (Requests are CLOSED!)

!WARNING! NSFW contents ahead!

Patting the two wolves who were currently lounged in your lap was one of the most peaceful things you had done today. 

Most of it had been chaotic, first of all, the Okami you had been romantically involved with had come stumbling into your grounds all bloody, and an arrow sticking out of his side.

Second of all, he was being chased by hunters, which you easily fought off. 

And third of all, he was acting like a huge brat because you weren’t paying ‘enough attention to him’. 

You hear the door swing open, and aren’t surprised to see white fill the corner of your eyes. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You ask, scratching the back of Tomo’s ears. 

Hanzo huffs. “I’m fine.”

“You had an arrow lodged through your side.” 

“So?”

You sigh, counting to pet the wolves. Hanzo huffs again. 

You don’t reply this time, but chuckle as he blows against your ear.

“Go to bed Han, you’re overworking yourself.”

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You pet the wolves even more, but feel his arms wrap around your waist. 

You raise an eyebrow and look at him for a moment, but don’t say anything otherwise.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me again?” You ask, and he places his face on your shoulder, muttering something into it. 

Again you don’t reply. 

His hands venture lower, that’s when you stop petting the wolves. 

“Han, you’re injured.”

“It’s almost finished healing.” He mutters into your shoulder. 

You shake your head. “It may heal quickly, but it will take a lot of your strength,” You reply. “Healing magic uses more stamina than any kind of magic. You and I both know that.”

You grin. 

“Oh, so that’s why you're so needy?” You chuckle, as huffs. 

“I’ve missed you,” He pauses. “Dearly.”

Your hand finds its way to intertwine into his long white hair. “Have you now?”

“Yes, the minute I leave your forest...I find myself longing for you.” 

“Then why do you leave?” You ask. “If you miss me that much.”

Hanzo frowns. “You know why I must leave.”

You shake your head, pulling your hand from his hair and back to the wolves. One of them rolled onto her belly, and you pet it with pride. 

He whines. 

“No.” 

Hanzo nuzzles your neck.

“No. You need rest, Han. You know damn well what happens when we fuck, you literally can’t walk for two days straight.”

“That’s because you don’t know when to stop.”

“Doesn’t help that having you underneath me making all those noises is the most intoxicating thing.” 

You can feel his grin spread across his lips when his hands are on your waist again. 

You lean your head onto his shoulder, mouthing at his neck. 

“You’re trying to rile me up, aren’t you?” 

Hanzo says nothing.

“Or are you jealous that I’m paying more attention to Kenji and Tomo than you?” 

A whine. 

“Aw, you poor thing.” You preen at him. “We should fix that, shouldn’t we?” 

You practically feel the excitement that goes through him, it doesn't help that you’re soul bound to each other, forever ‘doomed’ to feel what the other feels when their emotions are at their strongest. 

You spin around, his hands rising from your waist and onto your shoulders, as you place a hand on his lower back, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin, and it vaguely reminds you of Genji, but you don’t really want to think about Genji while you’re fucking his brother. 

You chuckle. 

“Don’t you have to meet with Genji tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“If he finds any marks he’ll kill us both.” 

“No, he’ll kill you, and lock me in a tower for the rest of my life.” 

He tugs at your shirt, your onyx gem necklace falling onto Hanzo’s chest. 

You shake your head, as your hands drift down to his belt. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’re still injured,” You reply. “Not only that, but you have to meet your brother tomorrow, and I’d rather not suffer the wrath of a wolf god.”

“You’ve fought against more formidable foes, and come out victorious.”

“He’s your brother, Hon.” The belt falls to the sides of his body.

“That doesn’t mean you’re forbidden from fucking me properly.”

“I am if that means your brother has to find out you’ve been in bed with a witch.” You say as he kicks his boots off to god knows where inside of the small barn house. “And I’d like to keep my face the way it is, heard plenty of stories of gods who cursed witches to look like hags.”

“I would kill my brother again if that were the case.” He mutters as you put kitten licks on his inner thighs. 

“Is that so?” 

“Hn.” 

He hears a ‘moo’ behind him and looks up. 

“Your animals are watching us.” He says. 

You roll your eyes, and snap your fingers, with that the animals go about their business, turning the other direction entirely. 

“Is that better?”

“I would’ve preferred-”

“Nope, we’re doing this here, we’re in the middle of the woods, nobody can hear us.”

“Unless I was followed.”

“I highly doubt you were.” You say, taking off the linen underwear he wears. 

You grin at him. 

“Damn you really did miss me huh?” You mutter, dragging a finger up his slit. He shivers, and you bring the slick to your lips, making a damn show of it as well. 

He glares. “Get on with it.” He growls. 

You roll your eyes. “Patience, dear, patience.”

“That is the last thing,” He pauses as you pull him closer to you, and you lay down on the floor in front of him. “I want you to do.” 

“Then this won’t be very enjoyable, now will it?” You laugh, as a finger just lightly grazes his dick. 

He curses under his breath.

“You never just-”

Another graze, a tad bit harsher. 

He fidgets. 

“Hm?” 

This time, your thumb comes into this game, and you press down on his dick, hard. 

He flinches, as your thumb begins to rub it in a circular motion. 

He leans into it, and you don’t blame him either. 

Four months without seeing each other, and waking up with morning hood more than once, hell, you woke up with it more than once since you’ve met him. 

You hear his whimpers begin to get more frantic, his hands gripping the side of your face, beginning to place your hair between his fingers. His other hand pulls at the brown shirt he’s still wearing, his knuckles almost white.

Your fingers pull away, just as you think he’s getting too loud. He scoffs, as you just shake your head at him, grabbing his lower back and legs, before hoisting him up and carrying him. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“Table.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” 

He smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“No, I just know how to treat a man properly.” You respond, placing him on the table. 

Normally, this bench was used to place items, like books, ingredients, food, but now it lays empty, as most of the animals have already been fed, and it's barely even time for supper.

The cows and goats have already been milked, and the chickens haven’t laid any eggs yet either. 

He falls onto the table so softly, and you roll your sleeves up, leaning down and placing both of your hands on his thighs, practically wrapping your arms around them like an eel. You know fairly well he’ll move a lot during this, you’d rather not get kicked in the face. 

The first lick makes him jump, as he isn’t looking at you anymore, but as his head on the bench and rolled to the side. As much as you would love to just pull your damn dick out, and make him kick and scream your name at the top of his lungs till the whole damn kingdom could hear, it could further infect the wound, and you didn’t want to particularly piss Hanzo off right now. It was so rare that he’d try to initiate this sort of thing, so you weren’t going to do something stupid to ruin it. 

The second lick to his slit has him keening, clearly eager. 

The third time he groans, muttering to get on with it, as his hand grips your hair. 

You shake your head and dive in now, and he arches his back, finally happy he gets what he wants. 

He’s shaking, clenching around your tongue, and you move your hand so your thumb can play with his cock yet again. 

He kicks and fidgets under your touch, panting rapidly, which soon turns to breathy, yet soft moans. 

Your tongue laps at his juices and the hand in your hair becomes tighter, just a smidge below painful. 

You would chuckle right now, tease him about how desperate he looks, but you know that you shouldn’t keep this up for long, you still have to get him to bed again after this. 

If you tease him it will just rile him up some more, and he won’t stop asking for more until you’re inside of him with something other than your tongue.

His grip becomes tighter, practically pulling your hair from your head.

He’s swearing-in a mixture of Japanese, English, and most likely celestial, as your lapping and circles become faster, and more pressure is applied. 

His breath becomes more rapid, his moans higher pitches, before he lifts off of the table, and both hands to grip the top of your head, practically screaming your name into your ears. 

He twitches, despite your tongue and hands still toying with him. 

After the adrenaline dies down, and the overstimulation hurts, you let go, hands grasping his inner thighs as he twitches you see a faint line of drool drip from the corner of his partially open mouth. 

He hums softly. 

“Satisfied?”

“Of course not.” He says, and you wonder how exactly he’s still able to muster such attitude in his voice. Then again, he’s practically a god, he could probably go on for days if given the reason too.

You usually last for about two hours compared to him. 

(You vaguely remember one time where he had this itch he couldn’t seem to get rid of, and he just rode you until you fell asleep that night. It was funny when you woke up in the morning, and you couldn’t feel your dick.). 

You sigh happily. 

“Aren’t you going to take care of that?” He asks, gesturing to your crotch.

You shake your head.

“Once you’ve rested, we can worry about that.”

You grab his clothing as he pulls it onto himself, you help him as well.

His belt is slung over your shoulder, and he climbs into your arms.

The door to the barn is shut with your leg, as you make your way to the small cabin. His forehead coming to rest on your shoulder, and before you even make inside the house, you hear his soft snores. 

[hiljaisuudesta]

Dear @lostinfeathers tagged me in this, liebsten Dank ❤️ Also @haraldrharfagri tagged me in this too on another blog, so I’ll just answer this here, if you don’t mind! Thanks a bunch!

rules: answer the questions and tag people you’d like to get to know better

when is your birthday: About a week ago, so in the end of November!

where do you live: somewhere up in the north of Germany

three things you are doing right now: singing along to a song I’ve listened to way too much lately (fortunately nobody’s here to hear that), drinking tea I’ve had in my Advent calendar today and actually I should be finishing the application for a traineeship at a museum that I started writing earlier today.

four fandoms that have piqued your interest: I’ve got to admit that I am boring enough never to have actually participated in any kind of fandom... unless you consider historical reenactment to be the cosplay of the history fandom, then... there’s that.

how has the pandemic been treating you: Oh, it made me lose the same job twice (while keeping me from finding another one) and made an end to all the plans I’ve had for myself - at least for now -, so yeah, not so well, I guess. 

a song you can’t stop listening to right now: I’ve mentioned it before, Passers-By by Prag 83.

recommend a movie: Okay, I’ll pick something less common this time. I’ll recommend Kwaidan (怪談) by Kobayashi Masaki, a collection of four Japanese ghost stories. Each episode is absolutely unique and masterfully made on its own and I am just very much in love with this. If you are into folk “horror”, I’m pretty sure you will love this movie too.

how old are you: I’m close to leaving my 20s now. Huh.

school, university, occupation, other: Currently working in retail until I can finally get back to uni and do my MA or get a traineeship.

do you prefer heat or cold: Considering I always prefer cooler room temperatures, I’d say cold. Also, you can always dress warmer and make yourself cozy, while it’s kinda difficult the other way round.

name one fact others may not know about you: As a child, I had to wear an eyepatch for about one year due to Amblyopia. It didn’t help though. (And I’m still wearing my glasses way too rarely...)

are you shy: Considering the fact that I used to be in therapy to due to social anxiety, how could I say no? I mean, I can speak to customers fairly easily (guess I’m playing some kind of role then?), but on a personal level, actually getting to know people is rather difficult sometimes. Takes me a bit to open up and coming up to strangers myself is still kind of impossible for me. But I’ve come a long way, I try to remember that.

pronouns: he/him

biggest pet peeves: Currently it’s deliberate inconsiderateness. I regularly have to deal with people unwilling to wear masks, keep their distance or otherwise stick to basic guidelines during a pandemic and it’s driving me absolutely mad.

what’s your favourite “dere” type: Do I have to feel old for having to google that? 😅 But I don’t know, none of those seem to perfectly fit my taste? Mayadere reminds me of the classic enemies to lovers trope though and that’s quite fine?

rate your life from 1 to 10 (1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be): Things aren’t good right now. So a 3 perhaps? Or 4 at best? I don’t know. So much is wrong and difficult and out of my hands and I’m stressed and anxious and just not feeling my best, but at least there are a couple of genuinely good people in my life that I appreciate a lot? It really makes up for a lot.

what’s your main blog: This one here is the only one that I actively use and that doesn’t run on queue.

list your sideblogs and what theyre used for:

@moornebheym - my “portfolio” of sorts

@inatt - a nature blog

@inattpoesie - a blog for my written stuff. The fact that its theme is entirely broken kinda shows how often it is updated  🙃

is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends: I feel like my life’s running on pretty little social energy, so I can be really slow to reply sometimes. It’s never meant in a bad way though, I just suck at conversing. But I’m trying my best.

So, if you feel like it, I’ll once again tag @the-raven-that-refused-to-sing, @hilema, @skyforgesteel, @ulvindem, @wvnjo, @asolitude, @sleeperlenore and @itriedtoescape 

#tagged

[byersfreaked]

#𝙱𝚈𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙳   :   a   jonathan  byers   sideblog  for  the  character  featured  in  netflix’s  stranger  things,  season one personality - focused,  semi - canon  compliant.     headcanon heavy.     very private and low effort side to clericlost.     tentatively made 05/29/22.     flimed by jean,  22,  they/them,  cst.

rules.     dossier.     notes.     pinterest.

a few scattered notes about my portrayal  :

-   you do not need to be following my main  to follow and interact with me over here.     however,  i do require that i be following you from there before interaction.

-   i write jon as transmasc and using he/they pronouns.     writing from his pov,  i will often use either.     jonathan doesn’t really care about pronouns as long as they aren’t she/her,  but it’s unlikely your muse will even know they is an option unless they ask and/or he feels comfortable enough to tell them.     he knew this about himself for as long as he can remember even having a vague concept of gender,  and at first,  even lonnie didn’t mind having a  ‘ tomboy ’  for a kid until the kid asked joyce if it’d be okay if he was a boy.     joyce told him he could be whatever he wanted to be--   he’d always be her kid,  and lonnie blew a gasket and fucked off years down the road anyway.     will never really knew jonathan as anyone other than his older brother,  jon’s appearance and mannerisms barely batting an eye over time and starting when will was so little.    the details of when and how will learns this about his brother in more concrete terms is up for plotting !

-   for obvious socioeconomic reasons,  jonathan has always and still simply binds.

-   regarding characterization  :  i’m personally drawn to the season one version of him.     pretty awkward but in an almost who - gives - a - fuck kind of way,  spends most of his time with his headphones on and taking pictures of whatever catches his eye.     it’s hard to put my finger on what exactly,  but i feel like later seasons kind of forgot jon’s. . .   awkwardness ?     maybe his temper ?     cynicism ?     it does smooth over a little after all the upsidedown shit,  as well as the personal growth he encounters just associating with people he wouldn’t have ever really chosen to on purpose   [  nancy,  steve,  his kid brother’s little friends  ],  but my portrayal will stick closer to season one’s font of him,  with elbow room of more canon and headcanon - ed development. 

-   regarding j.ancy  :  i don’t hate them even if i hate the way they got together,  but i won’t assume ships unless we’ve specified them beforehand !     i’m always cool with plotted or pre - established memes as long as we communicate,  though my take on jancy is that   [  unless otherwise plotted  ]   the canon version of them is something jonathan kinda rolled with by season two because it felt like something he should do.     that’s absolutely not to say he doesn’t care for nancy,  or even love her,  but that he truly hasn’t dug around for much depth beyond the fact that they obviously liked one another,  so why not be together ?     nancy is honestly his first serious relationship with anybody long term.     it’s only by the end of season three and the continuation in season four that circumstances obviously prompt jon to think on he and nancy’s relationship more,  whether it makes or breaks them.     while this is all my general spin on canon events,  this will not apply for every nancy.     every portrayal of nancy is different and if i ship with them,  it will reflect just as uniquely !

-   speaking of ships,  jon is also bi :)

-   due to the nature of jonathan’s upbringing as well as st in general,  there will be potentially triggering content on this blog,  mostly involving  :  child abuse / neglect,  depression and anxiety,  c - ptsd,  general horror,  as well as smoking / drug use,  but nothing crazier than nicotine or marijuana. 

#navigation. #stranger things rp #stranger things roleplay #horror rp #this is gonna be so low effort guys it's not even funny #he's just my little stoner guy

[andsotheuniverseended]

cephas my beloved

so i don't know if what you meant here was "answer all thirty of the dnd meme questions for cephas" but that is how i'm interpreting it so i'mma go ahead and put it under a cut

(also for those not in the know, Cephas (they/she/him/any pronoun you like) is my stone construct witch. yes those are both homebrew things I found online. i use this witch and just recently updated them to the 3.0 version and i'm very excited about it)

1. if one of their friends was jumping on a bed and asked your character to join them, would they?

Yes, absolutely, of course. The bed would then immediately break because Cephas is a couple tons of solid rock, but that's on their friends for not thinking it through. Or maybe that was the plan. Either way, Cephas is on board.

2. would your character carry around a tiny bath and body works hand sanitizer? if yes, would it have a specific scent?

I mean, Ceph does carry around smelling salts enchanted to smell like whatever would make someone feel better in the moment? Which is kind of the same thing? But anyways the real answer is Probably Not unless it was a gift, because Cephas has no sense of smell and has no need to sanitize.

3. does your character paint their nails? do they wait for them to dry fully afterwards?

Technically he doesn't have nails but Cephas will happily allow themselves to be painted over any part of their body, and will stay completely still until it's dry. I know because the party his done this to them before.

4. if you cut open your character’s heart and there was something inside, what would it be? why?

Hm. I mean. Literally speaking, no heart, you just find stone in there. Figuratively speaking... a jade earring. representative of their first steps towards freedom.

5. do/would your character carry lots of hair ties on their wrist?

Nah, not unless one of the other party members asked.

6. what parts of your character’s voice/manner of speaking are distinct, if any?

Hm. Mostly just that their voice is pretty rough and low. Otherwise I think they talk pretty normal??

7. what’s the first thing your character’s eyes are drawn to on a map?

New places. To all the parts of the world they haven't seen yet, and want to.

8. how did your character feel when they left home for the first time?

Okay I'm going to go with the definition of home that means Cephas has to feel like it's home, which would mean the place where they lived with their BFF Effie. And I think the first time they left there, with an intent to go out and adventure, they felt really excited, happy, and like they were finally doing what they were meant to be doing. They'd been feeling very restless up until that point, so it's kind of like scratching an itch. Very satisfying.

9. where does your character look when they’re the only one walking down a road?

All around. She likes to see everything and doesn't get particularly worried about other people or robbers or things like that, so there's a lot of being generally distracted by whatever scenery they're passing through. Sometimes he'll just stop and pretend to be a statue on the side of the road and people watch for a while, if there's time for it.

10. does your character have tattoos? were they alone the first time they got one?

Being made of stone, my darling Cephas can't get tattoos. If they had actual flesh I do think they'd wanna get some.

11. if a button came loose from your character’s shirt, would they make sure the replacement matched?

Cephas doesn't wear clothes, and if they did 'matching' would not be the thing they cared about, so for sure No.

12. how loudly do they cry?

Gods I feel like a lot of these answers are just "Cephas is a stone construct and therefore cannot/does not do the thing" but like Cephas is a stone construct and cannot cry. There have been a lot of times where they wished they could, but their body wasn't built for it. Typically if they're sad, they're quiet about it, reserved.

13. does your character like holding hands? do they do it often?

Yes! But he doesn't do it very often at all. Stone isn't comfortable for other people to hold, and they have to be careful not to hurt people when touching them, so it's generally more dangerous for whoever they're holding hands with than its worth.

14. is your character more likely to wear a necktie, a bowtie, or a bolo tie? (if any at all)

Again, no clothes. But I think Cephas would enjoy a good bolo tie.

15. have you ever said something as your character that stuck with you for a while after? what was it?

Oh lord. Uhhh... hm, well there was this one thing but it is very dependent on the context of the moment. Which is that they were talking with another character who was frustrated about not knowing things, and talking about how in order to be people you have to ask questions even if you don't get answers, you have to keep asking questions. And then they discovered something that was a step in a mystery they'd been trying to deal with and Cephas said "and sometimes you do get answers" and I don't know why but that one did stick with me.

16. what does getting flustered look like for your character?

Stuttering. Awkward hand movements. Maybe reverting to the old "I am but a simple construct with no consciousness" trick if they're really feeling out of sorts.

17. does your character have to glance at their hands to remember left and right?

Ha, no. Cephas knows what they're doing, unlike me.

18. does your character have stuffed animals? would they if they could? what kind?

Hm, no, xe doesn't. But I think they would if they ever settled down and stopped traveling. Even if Cephas can't really feel the softness, they would like it. And they'd be very careful with them too. As for the kind... I'm thinking those, like, huge round ones? Fuck there was a name for them. Squishables?? I think???

19. does your character walk or run down stairs?

Walk, typically. Running could damage things lol

20. if your character saw a turtle stuck on its back, would they flip it over?

Oh yes 100%. And also try and talk to the turtle and see if it needed any further assistance.

21. has your character ever climbed out of a window? would they do it again?

I don't have a moment in mind specifically, but there's no way Cephas hasn't, and they would absolutely do it again.

22. what’s your character’s ideal way to wake up? what usually wakes them up?

Cephas doesn't so much sleep as... go into Obedient Construct mode for four hours, which is to say they will obey any order given to them. Ideal way to wake up from that is in some weird/compromising position because it means his friends were messing with them and they love that. And they can't be woken up unnaturally, so its just that after Four Hours something in their head goes Ding and they're back.

23. what’s the pettiest thing your character’s ever done?

Dyed a nobleman's hair bright pink because he was kind of rude to them when they were pretending to be a normal construct.

24. what made your character the angriest they’ve ever been?

Cephas... doesn't really do anger, generally. But! There was a man who pretended to be a prophet of a god, and collected a small group of true believers. And then he took over a town, and made the townsfolk slaves. And that really got to Cephas, in a very personal way. (They did take care of the man and they still have mixed feelings about doing it.)

25. how does you character smile?

With great effort. Cephas wasn't built to emote, so any facial expressions are subtle and take a lot of concentration and effort to make happen. Over time they've gotten more practiced at this and can do it almost without thought, but it's still the smallest movements for a great amount of toil.

26. does your know the names of their constellations? how did they learn them?

I think, some of them? Cephas lived with her best friend's family for a long time and I think they would've learned some of them there. But then they also definitely made a game out of making up constellations and naming them whatever they wanted, so it's a toss up whether what they know is a real constellation or one they made up and then forgot they made up.

27. do/would your character draw or write on themself?

Oh yeah, for sure.

28. would your character race someone to the top of a tall tree for bragging rights?

Not for bragging rights, but absolutely yes Cephas would race someone. And they would lose because they are big and heavy and not made for climbing, but its more about the fun of it than the winning or the losing for them.

29. is there an artist whose style you associate with your character? (visual or otherwise; poets and musicians, etc. count)

Hmm... not really?? I don't really associate artists with my characters. My friend drew Cephas once, so I think that's the closest I'm gonna get to that. Maybe Delta Rae? I feel like Delta Rae has got those witchy vibes, and that makes me think Cephas.

30. how has your character’s first impressions of their party members changed since they met them? have they stayed the same?

Oh this is delightful because when Ceph first met the party, they were pretending to be a normal construct, so the DM was 'playing' them. Which meant I got to sit there and watch, and so I wrote down what Cephas was thinking. They only met the first three members of the party that day, but I literally have it written down that it was three "good first impressions" because one of them stole a book, another one turned invisible to draw a face on a trash can, and the third called Cephas 'interesting'. Overall impression? A group of messes who just went through something tough and are not dealing with it super well.

Current impression? A surprisingly competent group of messes who are working through some stuff, and very much don't like talking about their feelings. Also, I'm invested.

Seriously though it started out as Cephas thinking they seemed fun and wanting a distraction, and now Cephas is like actually really invested in all of them and their growth and wants to help them as much as they can.

#Cephas #dnd #this was. long. but also fun. #also anon u called cephas 'my beloved' and i was like Ah? did i send this ask to myself?? #maybe i did maybe i willed it into existence #anyways i love Cephas they're weird and beautiful and love their party and they have to leave soon and i am sad #Universe Answers

[rotzaprachim]

in secret, between the shadow and the soul 1/2

Kanej, Inej-centric. Teen ish, marriage of convenience, 3000 words 

(About 6 years post Crooked Kingdom) 

Read here on ao3

The apothecary asks her how long it’s been since she’s been intimate with her husband, and Inej almost chokes, says no, she hasn’t been in a very long time. Honesty is always difficult in her carse- dealing with her own past, own demons is hard enough without having to watch other people attempt proper emotional responses on her behalf, and maybe the apothecary senses that because she doesn’t ask more.

----

“It’s legal more than anything. A question of economics,” Kaz said, and Inej nodded, because it's kerch and how could it be anything but? Certainly nothing as tawdry as emotion or desire, let alone love, could interfere with so large a life decision.

Only Kerch citizens can hold berths in the water, and its significantly easier to manage bank accounts and conduct major financial decisions of the kind Inej needs to make on the near daily when restocking her ships. There's one route faster than all the others to becoming a Kerch citizen.

Inej suggested it before Kaz did.

She isn’t ready for marriage, she said. She isn’t ready to be tied to a man, to be anything more or less than herself alone. The Kerch made the whole business easy by never referring to this thing they’re doing as a marriage, all the paperwork is about Economic Units, Civil Unions. There’s so many pages of jargon it made Inej’s eyes bleed. Future children held less inches of fine grey type than agreements on pigs and shipping company stocks, and were described in the same economic language.

Kaz went through the whole thing line by line until the shore she was going to call for an annulment before they’d even gotten the damned thing notarized, or else make herself a tastefully rich and very young widow.

“It’s a contract,” he said. “You should know all the details before you sign your life away.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Inej said, irritated by the last several pages about Property Division in the Event of Medium Sized or Larger Storms, Grisha Attacks, and General Flooding, “I’m not signing my life away.”

“When you get married, it might be difficult to annul if you’ve still got a legal Kerch-”

“When I get married?” she shoots back challengingly. “To who?”

“I don’t know. That fire-tongued revolutionary who writes you poetry and will make you a new world. The Kaelish tavern maid who always pours you a free beer in her bar while you sing about the plight of the repressed. Someone hopelessly moon-eyed and optimistic, who thinks the world shits rainbows and knows what you’re worth.”

“You, Kaz Brekker,” she finally sighed, “are a hell of a lot dumber than they say you are.”

---

She doesn’t tell her parents. She’s not ready for that conversation.

---

She doesn’t tell Nina. She’s not ready for that conversation either.

---

The whole thing was finished in a notary’s office in ten minutes.

Kaz’s gloves were off, more because they both need to be fingerprinted than anything else.

He swore a short, official oath of his loyalty to both her and the Kerch market, promising not to cheat in foreign ports and to provide for and any hypothetical children. She thought of the paid-off indenture and the ship and the found parents and berth twenty-two and and her room in the house in bought on the Zelverstraat and thought that maybe he’s better at doing that than he thinks he is.

She swore a shorter official oath about fidelity and staying true and all her children being her husband’s, because to do otherwise would be bad economics and make her a poor investment, a value-destroyer, on the family line. Because it’s Kerch and of course it is.

---

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her afterward in an attempt at being casual. They’d been sipping at warm lukewarm flagons of beer in one of the harbour’s more reputable establishments and looking out at the water for twenty minutes.

“I’m thinking,” she said slowly, tasting her words, “that Alys Van Eyck is a very, very lucky woman that we came around when we did.” She’s still thinking about the various punishments for women who pollute the family line, which even if motivated by economics over faith as such things would be in Fjerda, are not dissimilar in practice. She’s realising more and more the Kerch neuroticism over bastardry probably comes from having so many of the young men gone for half the year at sea.

Kaz guffawed, which was not a sound she was really used to him making. “You never fail to surprise me, Wraith.”

“How is the Vrouw Dazi”

Kaz shrugged. “Not useful to my purposes anymore. Wylan’s got her an Bajan set up in a little cottage outside Pijl with a tidy sum tied to not making too much noise.”

Sometimes she fantasized about breaking into that cottage and putting on a performance similar to the one that sent Pekka Rollins screaming from Ketterdam. She didn’t, because she didn’t subscribe to the idea of the sins of the father and thought Saartje Kazanja deserved a da with his mental pieces mostly intact. But saints take all, she wanted too.

“How’s Saartje?”

“I don’t know. Kid? Looks more like she could be ours than Jan Van Eyck’s, that’s for sure.

The tips of Kaz’s ears went red before he finished that sentence and he stared into the foam at the bottom of his glass, head turned decisively away from her.

“Fine, I think. In school now. No reason to keep tabs.”

They toasted her new Kerch citizenship. Inej swore she saw his hand shaking.

----

Her citizenship documents, stamped with a wax seal of three flying fish and a small Kerch flag came three days later, expedited by Kaz in ways she cannot begin to fathom. It’s only then she realised that they’re for the new Vrouw Rietveld, that she made her vows to Kasper Rietveld. It’s only logical- Rietveld can be the upstanding businessman who only exists on paper in a way Kaz Brekker cannot, all the better for her dowings, but it still feels like a piece of himself gifted to her.

She could forge Rietveld’s name for her own purposes too; they practiced on old betting slips that she then threw into the fire. Kerch women can legally make almost every kind of financial decision and dealing, less due to the Merchers’ Council’s upstanding opinion of the female gender than the portion of the year the men are at sea, the incredible odds they won’t come back.

(They’ve rather flipped that scenario.

“How much cross-stitch will you do do fill up the void of my absences, she chided him. “They say the old sailor’s wives used to knit lace from the white froth of the sea.” Nowadays Wealthy Kerch women waiting for their husbands to come home tended to stick to knitting hats and scarves for orphans. So saints-damned many hats and socks, and yet you could still scarcely move for the number of bare-headed, barefoot orphans come winter. It was one of Ketterdam’s greatest mysteries.

“Inej,” Kaz sayid, eyes closed, genuine concern cutting his voice. Ever more she was picking up a sailor’s sense of gallows humour.)

---

They exchanged rings at the registry. Inej’s was a simple band, no gemstones but she suspected it was solid gold. Inside was etched a wave pattern, an endless strip of open sea.

Wearing it on her finger meant something, soo she looped it onto a sturdy chain that she hid between her shirt and her beating heart. That seemed appropriate, doable. Young sailors often took the bracelets and handkerchiefs of their sweethearts out to sea as good luck tokens; Inej had a gold wedding band.

Kaz’s fingers brushed the chain in the warm dip between neck and collar as he said goodbye to her on the docks, and after she nodded infinitesimally, telling him to go on, finish this chapter of the story, he slowly pulled up the rest of the chain and found the band.

“I thought-” he said, but she looked him in the eyes, square as she could, and he halted. She doesn’t know what he thought.

“There was not and is not and will probably me a different man for me than you, Kaz Brekker.

He swallowed thickly and then slowly lifted her skin-warmed band to his lips, even though he did not believe in luck, had said he believed in nothing but her.

---

The Kerch don’t have seperate words for “husband’ and “man.”

---

“Mijn mann,” she says in response to the curious looks her crew gives her after the band slips free during repair work, and it doesn’t feel like anything more or less than the truth.

“Mijn mann,” she says tacitly when border authorities raise their eyebrows in suspicion at her Kerch passport.

“Mijn mann,” she begins her letters back to him. “Dearest Inej,” his come back, sometimes even “Loveliest Inej,” but he never uses a possessive pronoun form.

---

Having any kind of passport, official documentation, feels alien and strange. She comes from a people without a land, and for her entire childhood they Suli were denied any official documentation of Ravkan citizenship. That’s changing now, but many are still wary, and with very good reason to be.

---

The quick bureaucratic sketch to mark Vrouw Inej Rietveld as a Seetsen Van Det Kerchrepublik, looked absolutely nothing like the drawings on the three individual sets of national wanted posters that keep cropping up in seedy port cities. Absolutely none of the above get her nose right.

“I look white in this one,” she said, holding a particularly egregious example up to Aigerim, who commiserate mightily. “Look how fucking straight this nose is. No eyebrows.”

Hitting the nose furnishes very fun target practice for when her fingers itch to throw knives.

Inej wins a lot of games of darts in a lot of seamy seaside pubs tucked into a lot of different gritty port cities.

---

They dock in Pijl before Ketterdam to catch their breath and do repairs. Ketterdam’s a good place for business and to look for secrets and plan strategy but a shite location to re-sew a sail or patch up a wall, unless you like replacing your supplies every time they’re stolen. The prices of grain and barrels of water and apples are lower are lower closer to the fields as well, even if that involves bartering loudly in a Centraalmarket that smells like spilled cider and pig shit, straw crunching underfoot, rather than the hallowed halls of the Exchange.

It takes her three days to come down with the evil hybrid chest cold-stomache flu of her fucking life. Ameera shoves her back into bed with ginger tea and another blanket. The thing they don’t tell you about awesome pirate ships with awesome international crews is that you also get the full spectrum of awesome international germs.

By the fourth day, she’s putting on all three of her coats and stuffing a wad of kruge and her passport into a pocket to visit the clinic in town.

---

Other people seem to register this whole being-married business than Inej ever does. She just prefers the expedited customs lines.

The splotchy faced, matronly woman at the clinic sits her on a paper-covered table and reads through a list of questions on a clipboard. Nian loves the lab smell of pure alcohol, would probably dab it on as perfume if she could, but Inej only associates it with injury, with being patched and stitched up after a bad scrape, with the white-coated doctor who came in every two weeks to swab Tante Heleen’s girls for disease, with the brown bottle of the stuff she uses to clean blood and worse off of her knives.

“Family history of pulmonary infections?” the woman asks her. “Smoking, alcohol, jurda use?” Every question makes her squirm slightly, as if in the historyof her wheezing lunghs is some sin she’s committed and will only now find out about. Nejn, nejn, nejn. Inej forgot how much she hated being looked at.

No grisha in her family that she knows of- scribble scribble scribble- but a lot of bad eyesight.

“When was the last time you had intimate relations with your husband?” the woman asks bluntly, and that’s the question that knocks the air out from her. The woman’s thin yellow eyebrow quirks up, but Inej manages to disguise her gasp as a particularly bad fit of hacking. She knows its nothing but a bit of intrusive medical questioning, but words can have many meanings and the answers to questions can be both yes and no at the same time and a certain turn of phrase can punch like a fist and cut like a knife. So she just says “six months ago,” and gives the woman her answer for the write-up.

“Long time.”

“He’s a sailor. I cry as I wait for him to return to me.”

“Ghezen’s speed that he does.”

---

She isn’t quite sure the Kerch even believe in Ghezen as anything beyond a bit of window-dressing to their financial affairs and the punchlien to jokes. Not like she honours her saints, the small painted icon of Sankta Inej she also keeps next to her heart, her daily prayers in the dark comfort her her room. She stands with Merjan, one of her crewmates, at the grave of Sankta Mahari, Queen of Mercy and Patroness of the Lost as they read the ancient prayers together, their voices settling into the steadiness of bees. Our queen, protector of our people, give us mercy, pray for peace, pray for us, pray to bring light to the shadows of the things we have done.

Sankta Anastasia, Sankt Dmitri, Sankta Mahari, she whispers into her knuckles, her fingers moving along the prayer rope with the decisive snapping of wooden beats, pray for our safety in the storm and bring us to the shore.

---

If Inej has found her own name, written with a familar jagged hand, among the prayer-knots tied to the Zentzbridge in a plea of mercy from the sea, she will not mention it.

---

Ketterdam is ugly and bright and familiear. You can smell the rotting flesh and beer smell before you see the smoky smudge of the city on the horizon. The crew makes quick work of unfolding the grishaworked official three-flying-fish flag that gives them clearance to enter the harbour without having their decks searched by the council of tides and carefully docks at Berth 22. Considering that the berths are now being numbered out into the two-hundereds, its a plum location, but its also damn close to the action, meaning that she can already see the glimmer of plastic beads floating on the water, the dark smudges of drunkards bobbing along. A few of the crew memebrs are going to get their pockets picked right off the bat. Inej already has a slush fund tucked away for precisily this reason. She’s getting better at this, she hopes, being a leader. Predicting what will happena dn why and when. Being someone that other people- many younger and more vulnerable than her- can rely on.

“AIGERIM,” she screams as she buttons up her city coat, “only two of thsoe pink trinks with the paper umbrellas MAXIMUM. You hear me?”

“Yeah, boss.”

She sighs. She doesn’t want to be anyone’s boss. “If there’s anything like what happened with the canal and the Stadwatch last time happens again, I think I’ll find the decks need a good scrubbing.”

Aigerim gestures wildly. “Course, boss..”

She tries to take deep rbeaths to calm her nerves. Maybe she’s becoming a worried old crone forty years early, but she’s the one who survived this hellhole of a city. She’s the one who survived this far. In this world, twenty-three is a badge of honour.

---

He cuts a familar figure on the docks. THey each have their own webs now, know of each other’s doings three or four times removed, like recognising a faovrite drinking song on it’s third round of translation. The recognition of a familiar trick, hand, murder method. Kaz will read in a news paper of a mysterious storm that’s tripled the price of indigo and sweet-wood fans after a whole line of ships went missing off the Southern Pelagic Reefs and Inej will hear in a greasy Kaelish bar about the shocking downfall of an old Kerch trading family and they will each smile, privately, and admire the other’s handiwork.

But seeing him in person is something altogether different, and she still rushes over the slats of the quay, coat streaming behind her, stopping abruptly when she comes to him. They pause there for a second and then he lifts his arms and they wrap themselves together around each other, hesitantly but then warmly, firmly, sturdy as a sailor’s knot and with all the inevitability of the sea wearing stone to sand.

“I’ve missed you, Wraith,” he says into her hair and she shrugs into him, her head level with his chest. His chin rests neatly on her head now, if he leans down slighlty, and she swears that wasnt the case the first time they embraced, the first time she left Ketterdam. He denies that the Ice Court, Van Eyck, all that happened while he was a boy not finished with growing. Yet she herself’s tried on that first Wraith outfit- a costume of sorts, really, how different was it from the Scarab Queen’s glass-bead veil in the third act of the Komedie Brute- to find it no longer fit, that she couldn’t easily do up the buttons on the front. She has more of a woman’s set of curves to her hips and long, hard-earned muscles on her legs and thighs, and even if she is creating some new kind of legend it is under her own name now.

Sometimes, Ketterdam feels like that too-small jacket; it cannot fit the woman she’s becoming. So she sews herself a new coat from the fabric of the world.

“Mijn mann,” she says, because she likes the way his body flinches and then stills under her fingers with those words, sharp and unexpected as any knife. “I’ve missed you too.”

#my writings #kanej #i'm surreee there's spelling mistakes #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #kaz brekker x inej ghafa #kanej fic #six of crows fic #grishaverse fic