#'but you're a part of this world! aren't you?'

[adieutristana]

hii! could i request the arcane women comforting reader on her period?

of course! thank you for the request <3

b2b by charli xcx on repeat yuuuup

summary; headcanons of the arcane women comforting their girlfriend on her period.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie

tags/warnings; menstruation, fluff, comfort, suggestive (jinx's section), reader has hell periods, mentions of poor mental health, can't think of anything else honestly

minors and men dni.

jinx;

✧.* idk why, but i headcanon that jinx is one of those super lucky girls who has really light 3-4 day long periods. basically nothing at all.

✧.* so when you told her that your periods were long, and heavy, and painful, she was honestly taken aback. jinx was a bit puzzled as to how that's possible.

✧.* "but mine aren't that bad! are you suuure?"

✧.* she doesn't mean anything by it, she's just genuinely perplexed. sometimes it's difficult for jinx to put these kinds of things into perspective. however, the second she sees you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach and whimpering in pain, her instincts kick in and she's rushing to your side.

✧.* "oh- oh, toots, are you okay?! what happened? why d'ya look so hurt?" she'd ask, crouching down next to you with panic evident in her voice.

✧.* "just... on my period," you'd strain. "nothing out of the ordinary. don't worry about me."

✧.* jinx absolutely will worry about you, though. she's by your side, asking you what you need. since her own periods are so mild, she doesn't know exactly where to start with this sort of thing. but she's doing her best.

✧.* she'll research! she finds out all about the cravings, mood swings, pains, and how to soothe all of those things. she nerds out when she gets to research anyways, but she'll go above and beyond to make sure her girl is comfortable and happy. as much as you can be during shark week, anyways.

✧.* the same day she finds you in pain, she's swiping things from shelves of pharmacies and convenience stores like no tomorrow. pain medicine, water bottles that she plans to heat up, chocolates, tubs of ice cream, blankets, lots of sanitary products. hell, she'll even burn a few dvds so the two of you can have movie nights. jinx doesn't do anything halfway, especially not something like this.

✧.* even more clingy than normal somehow. i imagine jinx runs pretty cold, but also has a lot of natural body heat, if that makes sense? she uses the guise of being your 'built-in heating pad,' though anyone can tell she just wants to be close to you and comfort you. she'll have both her arms and legs wrapped around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and peppering kisses along the soft skin.

✧.* "mm.. don't mind me, sugar. just wanna be here for 'ya, help you feel better 'n all that."

✧.* she's got such a sweet tooth, jinx might swipe a few of the snacks she stole for you while you're not looking... sorry. she can't help herself

✧.* will try to distract you to the best of her ability. movie nights as i said, as well as taking you around the streets of zaun (when you can manage to stand upright), gaming with you and purposely letting you win just so she can see your smile and hear your laugh.

✧.* along with the extra clingy thing, jinx will not let you out of your sight until she's absolutely sure that you're off your period. it's not that she doesn't think you can handle yourself, but she just worries so much. part of her knows it's irrational, but seeing you in so much pain eats at her inside, makes her afraid that she's going to lose you. even though it's just a natural part of your cycle

✧.* she's also read that other kinds of relief can be especially helpful for cramps, so you know jinx will be offering that to you if you know what i mean.

vi;

✧.* oh she's right there with you.

✧.* has the worst fucking periods known to man. it's like she's completely MIA as soon as it hits every month, she's just dead to the world. trust me, she understands.

✧.* which means that she can help you that much better! she knows firsthand what it's like and what works for her, but she also knows that it's not a one-size-fits-all situation. it'll take a bit of time, but vi knows what she's doing.

✧.* she's already got a stash of things lined up for you in her bathroom the day after you tell her you've gotten your period. panty liners, pads, tampons of different sizes. she doesn't even bother asking what you prefer to use, she just wants you to have the options depending on what you need at what time. only the best for her girl

✧.* fridge, freezer and cupboards are also full to the brim of your favorite snacks, the best medications. candies, chocolates, baked goods, ice cream, pain relief... all the good stuff.

✧.* don't even bother asking where she got all this stuff and how she could afford it, just let vi take care of you.

✧.* "shh, cupcake. that's for me to worry about. you sit your pretty self down and let me do all the hard work, 'kay?"

✧.* has heated blankets and water bottles ready for you at all times! the second she hears the slightest whimper of pain from you she's got the water bottle in her hand, instructing you to lean back so she can put it against your lower abdomen. she'll stay with you to make sure you're okay. she needs that reassurance both for you and herself.

✧.* vi is the type of lover who can't rest until she knows for sure that you're okay, regardless of how much you tell her that you're alright.

✧.* "i'm fine, baby. really, you don't need to worry about me." you'd say, though the way your face contorted in discomfort betrayed your words. "are you sure? you can't fool me, pretty. i know you're hurting. just let me help you. that's what i'm here for."

✧.* she also knows that insomnia comes with menstruation at times, so she'll make sure you sleep in her bed until you're off your period. holding you close, rubbing soothing circles over your back and stomach to help relieve some of the pain for you. don't worry about clinging to her, don't worry about how long it takes you to fall asleep or even the possibility of bleeding onto her sheets. vi just wants to make you feel comfortable, she'll take care of everything later.

✧.* doesn't let you do a damn thing for yourself. she almost treats you as if you're made of glass. it's not that thinks you're helpless, vi knows damn well just how fierce and independent you are. but she also enjoys taking care of you and knowing she's making your life easier.

✧.* "i'm on my period, not helpless." you'd protest, crossing your arms over your chest with a light pout. vi would chuckle to herself, playfully pinching one of your cheeks. "i know, i know. but i just wanna do this for you, okay? let me take care of you."

mel;

✧.* mel probably knows your cycle by heart after a certain amount of time being with you. not in a creepy way, but she's just that connected and attuned to you.

✧.* she'll come to you a few days before she knows you're due for your period, concern evident in her tone. "are you starting to cramp at all, dear?" she'd ask, or something along the lines of, "i know you're due soon. no discomfort? any cravings? you can tell me these things, darling."

✧.* she has a constant stash of things and she knows your preferences when it comes to hygiene products, snacks, medicine, all of your favorite comforts. she truly knows you like the back of your hand.

✧.* she'll be taking off work for you as well, as much as you protest and assure her that you're okay. realistically, mel knows sure and well that you're okay. but she still wants that time to be with you and make sure that you're comfortable and you're in as little pain as possible. it's more for her own peace of mind.

✧.* her own are honestly pretty moderate, not too bad but not exactly pleasant either. though again, she's attuned to your own senses and knows exactly what you need.

✧.* mel will be basically attached to you by the hip. she doesn't let you out of her sight for a second out of pure worry for you and your well-being. seeing you nauseous, craving the most odd foods, doubled over in pain, it hurts your girlfriend to even think about. she knows she can't outright prevent all of that, but it'll ease her mind to be there by your side.

✧.* mel doesn't insist that you take it easy, she knows that life goes on despite everything. she doesn't want to hover over you too much, but again, she'll be by your side. helping you run errands, walking you to and from work, watching from the sidelines as you do those little things that make you happy. painting, reading, writing... any of it.

✧.* it's a well-known fact that she loves to spoil you, so if you mention wanting anything at all, she won't even go out and buy it for you. she'll take you to the store with her and tell you to just buy whatever you'd like. no limits.

✧.* "anything at all, beautiful. let me treat you." "but mel, this is-" she'd shush you lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "too much? nonsense. i can handle it, you just tell me what you need. it pains me to see you so uncomfortable, regardless of how natural it is."

✧.* holding onto you so tightly, and you just know mel would give the best massages. literally anywhere that's sore, she'll massage for you with such love and care. her fingertips are a bit calloused and rough, but always so soft with you.

✧.* also runs you warm baths and even tosses in salts and flowers! they help her a lot when she's having period-related pains, so she hopes they'll have the same effect on you. she's happy to leave you to yourself, or sit near the edge of the tub and just talk to you. whatever would make you the most comfortable and happy.

sevika;

✧.* she's also got pretty mild periods, but she is very attuned to you and your senses. sevika can't exactly feel your pain and discomfort, though she knows how to ease it.

✧.* trust me when i say that she's got a good supply of things for you. all the sanitary products you could need, extra-strength pain medications, heated blankets, heat pads, snacks, the whole nine yards. uncomfortable and hurting? not on sevika's watch.

✧.* "just tell me what ya need, darlin'. you know i'll get it." she'd say, spooning you tightly while one hand rests over your lower stomach. you'd mumble light protests, but she wouldn't have it. "i know you're okay, babe. you tell me that enough. but i still wanna help, okay?"

✧.* so touchy and so clingy. sevika doesn't want to let go of you for a second, not if she can help it. whether that be holding you from behind while you move about the kitchen cooking, holding you close to her in bed, keeping an arm around your waist as you saunter around the lanes together, or brushing her lips against your forehead, she relishes that contact. especially when you're vulnerable like this.

✧.* she still has things to do. unfortunately, sevika's job isn't really one that she can take time off from, as much as she'd like to. but the second she gets off work, she's back home, by your side. your girlfriend is so loyal, so doting when it comes to you. a side of the usually gruff woman that's reserved exclusively for you.

✧.* she also won't hinder you from doing anything for yourself, the last thing she needs is for you to feel both excruciating pain and helplessness at the same time. however, sevika makes it clear that she's happy to take over whatever task you need if it gets to be too much.

✧.* you could be in the middle of a task when a cramp suddenly hits you, making you nearly fold in half and clutch at your stomach. "hey, what's wrong?" sevika would ask, cold metal against your shoulder. "cramps? come on, i'll take it from here. you go lay down."

✧.* do not worry about needing to ask for help with sevika. ever. she's more than happy to provide it for you, don't worry about asking for 'too much' or being 'too demanding.' you're her girlfriend, and you're on your period. there's no such thing as either of those with her.

✧.* "come on. you know whatever it is, i'll do it for you. so tell me," she'd pause, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she typically does, "what do you need, dove?"

✧.* also super attentive during sleep, would probably stay up just so that she can make sure you're okay and sleeping through the night. sevika is used to running on little to no sleep, thank her line of work. she'll try to keep it quiet, not let you know that she's observing, but she just worries. she wants to make sure you aren't suffering any bouts of insomnia. that, and seeing your peaceful expression during slumber is a plus.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn gets it, she really does. one of piltover's strongest enforcers and officials, but struck down once a month by menstruation. something had to take her down a notch.

✧.* she knows exactly what'll help her, and she hopes it'll help you too. though she gives you options, since she knows you probably won't have all the same preferences as her when it comes to sanitary products, snacks, care, etc. cait will take her time so that she gets your routine down pat, before she eventually just has everything stocked in her home for when the time inevitably comes every month.

✧.* caitlyn is constantly checking in on you. she’ll ask you about every little thing, making sure that you’re not straining too hard, not in too much pain. you could be sitting on your bed, folding towels, and caitlyn would ask something like, “are you sure that’s not too much right now? if your back or stomach is hurting, i can take over.”

✧.* she’ll want to keep you at home with her on the days that are the hardest on you. the days where you’re groaning in pain, you can barely think straight from just how uncomfortable you are. when you’re an emotional mess from the mood swings and crying over a puppy you saw on the street. she wants to be there to comfort you and help you get back on your feet.

✧.* “shh… love, it’s fine. i know, that puppy was adorable.” you’d sniffle, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “can we get one, cait? please?” she’d chuckle quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. “maybe when i don’t have so much on my plate.”

✧.* she's on top of your every need. in pain? here's a bottle of painkillers. cravings? she's already got whatever you need. in the case that she doesn't, caitlyn is in the kitchen making something for you herself. she'll be damned if she lets her girlfriend go unsatisfied, especially on her period.

✧.* she'd be so doting especially when it comes to the pain, caitlyn wants to just hold you until all of the cramps are gone. realistically, she knows there's not much she can do besides offer a few over-the-counter methods. she's gonna have to wait until they run their course, but it doesn't make her want to cling to you any less. she wishes she could hold you and you'd feel the rest of the world melt away

✧.* "fuck, cait, it hurts," you'd whimper, clinging tight to the girl with your brows knitted together. she'd softly hush you, her one hand slipping under the fabric of your top to run soothing circles over your lower back. "i know, darling. i'm here, it'll be alright."

✧.* cait would run you warm baths as well, she's at your side the entire times. she'll throw in flower petals and salts, maybe even a bath bomb if it'll make you happy. not only will it help ease the pain, but making you feel cared for in this time is of the upmost importance to her. yes, you feel gross, but you don't have to! look at the nice bath she drew you! she'll even help wash you off if you need it, or she's happy to just stay by your side and talk to you as you soak.

maddie;

✧.* maddie's own are pretty moderate, but she has a cut-and-dry routine she's stuck to as a teenager. works like a charm every time her period rolls around, so she hopes those methods will work for you. though, if they don't, maddie will immediately stop and regroup.

✧.* maddie i don't think would be super in tune with everything.. i apologize. she'll connect the dots after she sees you hunched over in pain or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, but she won't be able to pick up on it right away like some others might.

✧.* but that doesn't make her any less good at comforting you, let's make that abundantly clear. as soon as she catches onto what's happening, she's basically waiting on you hand and foot. maddie is devoted!

✧.* now of course, she's a junior officer. maddie can't be by your side as often as she'd like to, unfortunately. she likes her job, but sometimes she curses it for holding her back from her girlfriend in times of need.

✧.* so she second she's allowed off the job, she's swinging the door open with a bag full of snacks to make her presence known. "i'm home, darlin'! where are ya?" she'd announce, glancing around the empty space before her eyes land on you. "oh, there you are. here, i brought these back! sorry, i know i was gone for a while, but i'm here now, yeah?"

✧.* however, you'll have to ask for a lot of what you need. maddie knows that you're independent and capable of helping yourself, so she doesn't want to assume unless she knows for sure that you're incapable of it because of pain or discomfort. that's one of the things she doesn't really budge on. if you're able to voice what's bothering you, she'll be more than happy to be of help!

✧.* also really, really good at distracting you. she'll put on movies, plug in cassettes of your favorite albums, talk to you for hours on end about nothing and everything simultaneously. maddie figures that if she can take your mind off of it, that's better than just waiting out the discomfort.

✧.* she kinda sucks at cooking. sorry.. but! she'd still make sure any cravings of yours are filled. freezer is packed to the brim with ice cream, and she's got lots of sugary treats for you in her cupboards. i also would imagine she lives basically smack in the middle of piltover, next to a lot of vendors and convenience stores. so on the off-chance she doesn't have something you need, she's already on her way to grab it for you.

✧.* "i'll be right back, okay? just running around the corner. rest assured."

✧.* also so cuddly especially when it comes to being in bed with you. she's already clingy, but you might have to pry her off of you when you're on your period. she hopes you wouldn't want to, though, not when she's got her legs wrapped around your waist and her head nestled into the warmth of your neck.

[1thousandminus7]

If you can't or aren't comfortable protesting or giving money, here are some actually helpful things you can do:

Make yourself a known safe person. Speak and act in workplaces/social spaces as someone inclusive and safe to be around. This could be by having your pronouns in your email signature as a cis person, or by wearing subtle pride items to signal alliance

Speak up when someone says something shitty about trans people. You're safer calling it out than we will ever be

Talk to friends/family about trans issues and express support, or question any queerphobic beliefs they might have. Encourage them to question why they might believe or say things like that

Take part in or organise welcoming social events and spaces, if you have the ability to do so

And for the love of all that is pure and good in this world, VOTE. Vote tactically. Vote to minimise harm, not to keep your own pride. A subpar option will always be safer than an outright hostile one (trust me, I know! I'm an Englishman under a Labour government with an openly transphobic health secretary, and I'd still rather have them than the Tories or Reform)

The State department has changed LGBTQ to LGB.

If you claim to care about trans people now is a good time to show genuine ally ship.

[ventique18]

Dragon Malleus headcanons

You're used to how he looks in his two-legged fae form. Everyone is, honestly. But the thing is, that's not really how he truly, originally looks like. And though he knows his form of flesh is just as much of who he is as his origin, there are times when he undergoes some sort of withdrawal; a primal need to be back in the skin he was molded in. So he would occasionally spend a few days living his life as a gigantic dragon.

He doesn't particularly like being in his dragon form. He knows he's glorious and takes pride in that, of course, but it's just that it's so inconvenient. He can't fit in places. He can't grab things. He can't make gargoyles. He has to eat an entire town's worth of food just to not be hungry. But most of all, he can't really feel.

He's extremely durable. He's already impervious to damage in his humanoid form, but even more so as a dragon with walls and walls of the hardest material on Twisted Wonderland permanently attached to his body. Which is great, of course-- it's essential to his survival, but it comes with the caveat that no matter how much you touch him, no matter how much you try to show physical affection towards him, he simply cannot feel.

But there is one part of him that's soft. Something that isn't covered inch to inch in scales. His tongue.

So what best to take advantage of this little weakness than to cover you head to toe in slobber, of course?

Take note that him doing so doesn't imply anything malicious (unless you want to, of course). It's just that it's so easy to feel your presence by licking you. He can touch you without accidentally hurting you. And, as much as he refuses to admit it to avoid sounding like a pervert, being able to smell your familiar scent gives him a tender comfort. A sense of welcoming even in this world that refuses to welcome him in his rawest form.

But being covered in slobber isn't exactly the best feeling in the world. When you tell him that, the... fins on his jaw draw back, and he plants himself on the ground; snout partially buried behind his curled claws. Dragons aren't particularly expressive, but you can safely guess that he's feeling guilty of bothering you.

So you offer to help him find somewhere else to touch. He's a bit hesitant-- it seems dragons don't like the idea of exploring their weaknesses, but he agrees because it's you.

And would you look at that. He can feel you when you vigorously rub his belly. The feeling isn't really as detailed as his tongue's, but he can feel something. And it feels rather... Rather... Relaxing. He's huge though, so from your perspective it's like washing a car, but with exaggerated movements as a stroke from your height's head to toe is like scratching a spot for him.

It's tiring, but you persist with the power of love.

So this becomes a habit for you. When he transforms into a dragon, he would ask you to rub his belly, or ask for your permission to be licked if you don't look like you're in a bad mood that day. All of this is done somewhere private, of course.

So when someone would walk in by accident... And witness their prince rolled over like a dog, getting petted on his tummy... It goes to say that the dragon would be gone in a flash; replaced by a very angry, very threatening unit of a man very politely asking the intruder if he saw something. Of course the answer is always "not a single thing, sir!".

You laugh, and ask if he wants to continue with what you were doing. He sighs, refuses, and says he's not in the mood for childish amusement anymore.

"But... I can think of other, more enjoyable things we can do together."

And so the dragon, now in his villainous, irresistibly devilish form, whisks his prisoner away to a place no one knows.

[bueckets]

thank you for taking the time to read my works. below you'll find a collection of my series and standalone stories organized for easy browsing. i hope you find something that gets you onto santas naughty list.

Series

The Prophecy | Finished

Description: They call her The Prophecy—basketball’s impossible phenomenon, rewriting what it means to be perfect on the court. With a near-flawless shooting record and a mind just as sharp in aerospace engineering as it is in breaking down defenses, her name sparks awe, envy, and relentless scrutiny. But perfection has its cost.

But even legends have weak spots. When a high-stakes matchup against LSU draws the attention of Paige Bueckers—the golden face of college basketball—The Prophecy’s flawless world starts to crack. On the court, they’re rivals, locked in a battle for supremacy. Off the court, late-night texts and shared moments blur the lines between competition and something much harder to define.

Word Count: 30K

Part: Start Here

The Hit List | In Progress

Description: When an overworked engineering student's late-night CAD project gets interrupted by a very drunk, very lost basketball star stumbling into the wrong dorm room, she learns that some defensive plays work better in love than on the court.

What starts as a case of mistaken identity turns into an unexpected game of cat and mouse when UConn's golden girl, Paige Bueckers, can't seem to take a hint– or maybe just doesn't want to. Armed with nothing but sarcasm, an overprotective stuffed bear named Mr. Gummy, and a borrowed team jacket that definitely isn't helping the situation, our engineering hero finds herself drawing up plays to defend her heart against college basketball's most persistent point guard.

They say offense wins games, but defense wins championships. When you're trying not to fall for a girl who treats the court like her kingdom and your personal space like a suggestion, maybe it's time to admit some battles aren't meant to be won.

Word Count: 34k

Part: Start Here

One Shots

Thin Walls

Description: When a sleep-deprived biomed student moves in with UConn’s most notorious heartbreaker, you expect late-night film study, protein shake graveyards, and an apartment perpetually scented like sweat and victory. What you don’t expect? Thin walls. And Paige Bueckers making absolutely no effort to keep her extracurricular activities quiet.

What starts as a battle for basic human decency turns into something far messier—petty revenge plots, mind games laced with innuendo, and an unspoken tension that neither of you is willing to name. Paige plays like she owns the court, like she owns the world, and maybe—just maybe—like she wants to own you, too.

They say pressure makes diamonds, but when it comes to Paige Bueckers, it just might make a disaster.

WC: 8.4k

Read Me

Going UP?

Description: From missed alarms to broken elevators, your Tuesday couldn’t get worse, well, until it gets better. When a late-running grad student’s desperate dash to save her thesis turns into an unexpected elevator encounter with UConn basketball sensation Paige Bueckers, she learns that sometimes the best assists come from broken machinery.

Armed with nothing but coffee-fueled anxiety and an encyclopedic knowledge of basketball analytics, you find yourself trading quips with college basketball’s golden girl in a stalled elevator. What starts as a disaster turns into something else entirely when basketball theory meets practice, terrible jokes meet dangerous grins, and hot chocolate meets, well, everywhere except the mug.

They say love is a game of chances. But when you’re trapped between floors with a girl who can bend physics on the court and make your heart run suicides off it, maybe it’s worth taking the shot.

Sometimes cupid doesn’t use arrows. Sometimes he just breaks the elevator.

Word Count: 8.1K

Part: Start Here

[archangeldyke-all]

Hear me out hear me out...reader with a prosthetic leg that's like sevikas arm and it legit love at first sight bro trust!!

VERY cute omg

men and minors dni

your grandmother would try to kill you if she saw the way you're sitting right now. not only are you manspreading; you've got one leg thrown up onto the wood table in front of you as you sip on your beer.

"do you want me to take my boot off?" you offer, cringing as the dirt caked to your boots starts to dust onto the table top.

the little girl laying on the table shakes her head no. she's lost in her own world, her legs kicking in the air behind her as she doodles all over the smooth metal surface of your leg.

you stopped in the last drop for a quick drink-- but upon entering, the little girl sitting bored at the bar had gasped and ran over to you, gushing to you about your leg and begging to look at it up close. you had laughed and shrugged, bought yourself a pitcher of beer and settled in for a long night.

you've always been a sucker for little kids.

so when she asked if she could give you 'tattoos'-- pulling out a box of oil crayons from the pouch in her overalls, you'd just laughed, ruffled her bangs, and let her at it.

"this the first mech prosthetic you've ever seen?" you ask.

the girl shakes her head no. "silco has a creepy orange eyeball. and sevika's got her arm. yours is way cooler than theirs, though. less menacing."

you snort, wondering how a prosthetic could possibly be menacing. "who are you, anyways?" you ask.

"jinx!" a voice shouts. you both look up to the top of the stairs. a beautiful, angry, cloaked woman storms down the stairs, glaring at jinx, apparently. the little girl just giggles guiltily, like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. "fuck're you doing down here? you know you aren't allowed in the bar during open hours. get upstairs before i drag you up by your stupid little braid."

"geez, relax, sevika. i was just checkin' out this beauty!" she exclaims, knocking on your metal knee. you laugh.

"she's no bother."

the woman's eyes dart over to you, and you watch in fascination as her eyes grow wide. "th-that's your leg?" she asks.

you sputter, and jinx bursts into laughter beside you.

"it's attached to her isn't it?!" jinx teases. sevika huffs and flicks jinx's forehead, before reaching up and fumbling with the collar of her poncho.

"no-- i mean--" finally, she finds the seam, and her cloak comes off in one clean swoop. you gawk as a beautiful, sophisticated, and indeed, slightly menacing mech arm is revealed to you.

"oh, janna, look at that!" you gasp, standing from your chair to grab the woman's arm. you twist and turn it in your hold, gawking at the incredibly intricate design and function, running your fingers over the sharp claws of her finger tips-- it isn't until jinx gives an annoyed grunt that you snap out of your trance and take a step away from the woman you've practically ambushed.

only, sevika takes a step forward when you do, shoving her arm back in your grasp. you blink up at her, your stomach somersaulting when you meet her beautiful, twinkling silver. "did you make yours?" sevika asks, a little breathless.

you grin. "sorta. i got a cousin who did most of it. i handed her screwdrivers and stuff. did you?"

"y-yeah." she admits.

jinx scoffs. "oh, please. all the cool features are from me or singed. i was the one who told you to add the machete--

"machete!?" you gasp, your excitement growing.

"-- and singed did the shimmer injecti-- mph!" jinx is muffled by sevika's flesh hand.

"d-do you ever go to marty's mech--

"--repair shop?!" sevika finishes for you.

marty's the only man in the whole city who makes bio-chargeable parts.

you burst into laughter.

sevika smiles at you, a gorgeous little gap in her teeth revealing itself, and then she gasps and wretches her hand away from jinx. "you fucker, you bit me!"

"it's torture to force me to watch you two flirt. certifiable torture. peg-leg; come find me when you're finished giggling with general dingus over here. i'm not done with the drawing yet." jinx huffs and walks away.

you laugh as jinx marches off, then quickly wipe off the dirt covered table you were sitting at. "d-do you wanna have a beer with me? i gotta finish this pitcher..." you gesture to your table awkwardly.

sevika grins. "can't let good beer go to waste, can we?" she asks, settling down in a chair. you giggle with excitement as you sit beside her, and then you nearly explode when she pulls your mech leg up into her lap.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[squiddyfics]

squid game characters in a relationship with you

saebyeok, thanos, namgyu, daeho, hyunju, semi, the recruiter

description: how squid game characters would be as partners (au; no mention of the games)

18+ minors dni

warnings: nsfw in parts!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

saebyeok:

♡ you were the one to ask her out and she quite literally didn't believe it

♡ like she didn't even answer you at first because she didn't think you were being serious

♡ she has a hard time expressing her emotions. you definitely said "i love you" first and it took her a while to feel comfortable saying it back

♡ despite this, she was the one who fell in love first. she just kept that shit to herself lmao

♡ rather than being outwardly affectionate with her words, she expresses her love through quality time. she loves planning dates for you or just cooking for you at home

♡ she's not big on pda, but she'll wrap a protective arm around you while you're out together

♡ if someone hits on you, she'll get even more protective. partly out of jealousy, but mostly because she hates the thought of someone making you uncomfortable

♡ she's a generous lover. def more of a giver if you know what i mean

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

thanos:

♡ he was the one to approach you, and he was bold about it too

♡ you aren't his first partner by any means, but you're his first real love

♡ he looooves to show you off. "look at my baby. look how lucky i got."

♡ naturally, this means he's into pda. the more eyes on the two of you, the better. he wants the whole world to know you're his

♡ especially if someone shows interest in you... then he gets even more touchy, so he can rub it in their face that you're his, all his

♡ if anyone wrongs you, he'll vow to make their life a living hell. you can't even gossip about your work drama to him without him getting angry on your behalf and threatening to kill them

♡ even though he talks a big game he knows he's lowk a loser and he doesn't take it for granted that you choose to stay by his side

♡ that being said he makes you his bitch in bed. he's for sure heavily on the dominant side

♡ he also has an exhibitionism kink i just feel that in my bones

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

namgyu:

♡ he was the one to make a move on you, but he said it in a joking manner so that if you said no, he could play it off as not being serious

♡ this man's love language is physical touch there's no doubt about it

♡ his words don't match his actions.. like he'll make fun of you for crying during a movie while simultaneously cuddling you and rubbing your back

♡ he doesn't have any cute pet names for you, just insults said in a loving manner ("stinky" etc). he just can't take himself seriously enough to be sappy

♡ you've unlocked his secret second love language, which is sending you memes

♡ he wants to be seen as tough so he pretends to hate it when you call him cute (he does not, in fact, hate it) (it actually melts him)

♡ he gives the evil eye to anyone who dares to look at you for a second too long

♡ you are for his eyes only

♡ he's dominant in bed but he likes you bratty. he wants to work for it

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

daeho:

♡ you had known him for a while, and you had to be the one to ask him out because he was oblivious to all the hints you were dropping

♡ he was too much of a gentleman to risk overstepping your boundaries by asking you on a date

♡ however, once he had the confirmation that you actually liked him, he was all in

♡ he was absolutely the first one to say "i love you". that man fell head over heels

♡ he is patient as fuck and will put up with whatever bullshit you throw at him. like when you tested the orange peel theory on him and he passed with flying colors

♡ you literally have a pet boyfriend. he'll go anywhere with you and do anything to make you happy. your fav himbo <3

♡ he's prone to jealousy but tries not to show it so as not to make a scene in front of you. if someone hurts you, though, all etiquette goes out the window and he's ready to start SWINGING

♡ your pleasure is his priority in bed and he's up for whatever you're into, but when it comes to his preferences, he'd much rather be dominated by you

♡ call him a good boy and his brain will go haywire

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

hyunju:

♡ you definitely had to make the first move. this mf was way too stoic to express her feelings for you

♡ she got anxious and cancelled on you before your first date, so you had to be persistent and reschedule

♡ she was surprised by your strong interest in her, and she still doesn't know how she got so lucky

♡ it took her a bit to open up, but she ended up saying "i love you" first

♡ she's extremely protective of you. her introversion is forgotten as soon as someone upsets you, and she's giving them a piece of her mind within seconds

♡ she doesn't really get jealous, she just gets sad :(

♡ she's an acts of service girly. she'll vacuum your floor, change a flat tire for you, anything to feel useful to you

♡ she gives stone top energy (this one is more for an f!reader as it's a wlw term)

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

semi:

♡ she was the one to ask you out, and she said it so casually that you almost missed it

♡ her first "i love you" was also casual, said as she was leaving your house one morning. "bye, love you."

♡ you honestly don't know if she's prone to jealousy because no one has fucked around and found out. everyone around you two respects her quiet confidence and doesn't even bother trying anything with you

♡ she has strong opinions, but she expresses them calmly. because of this, the two of you never fight, though you do occasionally have respectful debates. you tend to walk away feeling like she was in the right after all

♡ she's not huge on pda unless it's something cute and lowkey like holding hands, or some stupid shit like licking you

♡ you def have a secret handshake

♡ she's a soft dom and she's not shy about wanting to receive. she wants you on your knees in front of her

♡ with that said, she also gives great head. that lip piercing..... iykyk

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

the recruiter:

♡ he asked you out at a bar, making a bet that if you lost at pool, you'd go on a date with him

♡ you lost on purpose so his fine ass would take you on a date, and the rest was history

♡ he said he loved you first, and he said it fast. it's not often that he feels love for someone, so he had to act on it

♡ he would do anything for you. anything. if you asked him for help burying a body, he'd tell you not to get your pretty hands dirty; he'd do it himself

♡ not that that would happen... but he's thought about it. he knows that's how dedicated he is to you

♡ this freaky little fuck doesn't feel an iota of jealousy when others flirt with you. he just smiles, knowing know matter how much they fight for your attention, it'll be his name you're screaming at the end of the night

♡ he likes to be in control in life, and that translates to the bedroom too

♡ he has big sadist energy, but if he ever actually crosses a line he'll drop everything to comfort you (and beat himself up about it)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: my head is fucked

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Andy brings you breakfast in bed. You can't help but feel the guilt rippling off him. All of this is penance on his part. 

It's as close to vindication as you'll get. You're mother would never admit what she did, let alone apologise. That's when you see her again. You're not so sure you ever want to. 

The world is distant. It doesn't feel quite real. It's like a dream. The edges aren't quite sharp enough and the colours are cloudy. 

You look down at the plate and your stomach grumbles out of basic need. You don't have much appetite but your biology is at a constant battle with your mind. You shouldn't be able to breathe but you are, you should take your meds but you don't feel all that different.  

A poached egg, whole wheat toast, turkey bacons, and thick greek yogurt with fruit. It's all very healthy but a bit more than you would eat, when you feel up to it. Your breakfasts are a hard-boiled egg or a small cup of hot oats and milk. 

"I hope it's okay," he hovers at the foot of the bed. He's dressed already. You're less than put together. You're still groggy from a grief-laden sleep and the hangover of the bitter revelation. You wear his borrowed shirt and gym shorts, your messy hair untamed despite your efforts.  

"I called in to the office. I don't think I could focus of I tried," he explains. "And there's too much to be done here." 

"There is?" You nibble the toast. 

You'd hoped for some time alone. Not to think, just to be. You're still lost in all of this. The anger, the hurt, the regret, the confusion, and shame... 

"Sweetie, you don't have any clothes. I have a spare toothbrush for you but it's a travel one from a hotel. And you'll need everything else, right? Soaps and whatever." 

"Oh, I... I don't... my mom has all my money..." you utter and deflate again. You put down the toast. Your stomach is roaring but you just want to puke again.  

"I'll deal with that. Don't worry. She's not as clever as she thinks." He puts his hands on his hips. He does that when he's upset. He used to argue with your mom and stand like that. "Please, eat. Your clothes should be dry soon." 

"My clothes?" 

"I threw them in the wash for you--" his sentence is punctured by the doorbell. His jaw ticks. "I'll deal with that. Probably Mrs. Potter trying to give me more casserole." 

He leaves and you put your focus on the plate. You shouldn't just eat because you're hungry, you should eat because he went to all this effort. You pick up a slice of toast and break through the soft yolk. 

You eat deliberately. Chewing slowly, methodically. A shrill yowl tightens your throat around a swallow. You know that shriek. 

You carefully slide the tray forward and balance it on the legs as you angle out from beneath. You go to the window and try to see past the eaves and awning. You can't. Only the police cruiser and a familiar car... 

You listen. The noise wafts in from the bedroom door. You follow it and peer down at the front door. It's muffled but clearly coming from the porch. 

You twist the handle nervously and open the door a crack. You can't see past Andy as he stands staunchly on the mat, arms crossed. You glance an officer's belt with the radio attached and your mother's snarl lashes you like a barb. 

"He has my daughter. She's sick--" 

"She's an adult," Andy insists. "I'm not holding her against her will." 

"She can't-- I am her legal guardian. She can't be here on free will, genius." 

"Ma'am," a stern female voice warns. "Sir, where is the daughter?" 

"She's sleeping." He lies. 

You let the door fall inward. You don't want to be in trouble. No one seems to notice. You stall and shiver on the threshold. It isn't cold, you're just scared. 

You make yourself step out. There's not much room. As Andy stands like a wall. You peek around him. 

"Hi," you murmur. 

"My baby," your mother throws her hands up and comes forward. Andy moves to block her. "You can't keep me from my girl-- where is her oxygen? Officers, she needs air!" 

“No, I don’t,” you say, quiet but firm. 

Your mother flinches but doesn’t relent, “he’s manipulated her. I can call the doctor right now and you’ll see. She hasn’t been without her tank in years. She could die--” 

“That’s not true,” you murmur. 

“Ma’am,” the female officer warns. “Let her speak.” 

You look around with wide eyes, taking in the full scene. Andy stands just behind you, you can hear him exhale. A male officer is on the other side of your mother. You open your mouth then shut it. 

“Sweetie,” your mother reaches for you and you shy away. 

“Alright, Jackson, you stay here, I’m going to talk to her. Alone,” the female officer says. She reaches out and waves you to her delicately. “You wanna come with me? We can talk. Just you and me.” 

You gulp and look at Andy. His blue eyes blaze as he meets your gaze. He dips his chin slightly. You turn back and nod. As you cross the porch, your mother tries to latch onto you. The other officer, Jackson, pulls her back. 

You sidle past her and follow the woman. She takes you to the curb. You look down at your bare feet then at her. 

“I’m Officer Patel. What’s your name?” She asks. 

You answer and she shifts so you can’t see the house. “Me and my partner came because we got a call about a possible abduction. We’re just here to hear the full story. What’s going on here?” 

You rub your neck and fidget. You can’t tell her the truth. Not the full truth. You can’t tell her your mom lied to you. Not even that she hit you. You don’t want to go back to court. You don’t want to tell everyone how stupid and pathetic you are. 

“I’m here.... because I want to be,” you shrug. 

“Your mother says there was an argument.” 

You chew your lip, “she couldn’t find her pills. She left. I don't know... I don’t know why she came back.” Your chin trembles and you clasp your hands on your shirt hem. You sway back and forth. “She doesn’t love me.” 

You hang your head. That’s it. What you always knew deep down. What’s so clear now that she’s ground you into dust. You’re nothing to her so she made you into nothing at all. 

“She’s your mom, I’m sure you two will work this out. Me and my partner are just making sure you’re safe. We were told that man is keeping you here without consent.” 

You flinch and shake your head furiously. You wave your hands, “no, no. Andy... Andy helped me and... I shouldn’t be here because... because... because I’m a loser and.... my mom... my mom...” you stutter. “She doesn’t want me.” 

“She says you’re sick? You need oxygen?” She prompts. 

You twiddle your fingers. “No, not really. Not... all the time. I can breathe, see?” 

She watches you, “right. How old are you, miss?” 

“Twenty-four.” 

She nods. “You’re not a minor?” 

“No,” you blurt out. Many assume as much, especially with you always hiding behind your mom. “No, I’m an... adult.” 

“Do you want to press charges against anyone?” 

“Charges? For what?” You wonder. 

She sighs. “You’re free to go. You’re grown up and you can make your own choices without mom.” She tuts and turns to look across the lawn, “Jackson, come on.” 

You peer over. Andy stands, arms crossed, staring at you. Your mother rears like a snake, muttering under her breath. You head back up the walk and Officer Patel speaks again. 

“You have to leave, Ma’am.” 

You stop and peek over your shoulder. Patel points to your mother, “we will escort you if need be.” 

Jackson looks at her. She snarls and stomps her foot, “oh don’t you even think of touching me.” She huffs and storms past him. She comes down the steps and you think for an instant, she might push you. She stops beside you. “I took care of you, sweetie. Do you think he will for long? After he figures out what you are?” 

She continues past you. You continue up the paved squares and past Officer Jackson as he follows. As you come up to the steps, you hear the engines turn over. You’re suddenly very tired. 

“Andy,” you drag your feet over the mat. “I want to lay down.” 

“Alright, honey. We’ll sort everything out later,” he turns and stretches his arm across the door frame as you enter.  

He shuts the door as you stagger on, eyes hazy with tears. Your own mother despises you. She’s right about him too. He’ll hate you one day but you don’t know what to do to change any of this. 

💙

Andy makes you finish breakfast before you lay down. He’s right. It’s good for you to eat and you haven’t been doing a lot of that. 

You lay down for an hour before you sense him getting restless. You can hear him downstairs. You can’t be lazy. You don’t have any excuses anymore. You’re not sick, just weak. 

You make yourself get up and venture downstairs. He’s in the kitchen, flicking through his phone as it rests on the counter. You clear your throat and wring your hands as you enter. 

“I’m sorry. I was upset. It’s really stupid but sometimes I just... can’t do anything. Even if I try. I’m sorry, Andy. I’m... so sorry.” 

He faces you and his face contorts in a spectrum of emotion, “oh, honey, you don’t need to be sorry. I put your clothes on the couch for you. Just waiting. Take your time.” 

“Waiting for me,” you frown and look at the floor. “My mom lied. A lot. But I don’t think she was wrong about everything.” 

“What do you mean?” He shifts closer. 

You shrug, “me. I’m... I’m useless.” 

“No,” his voice hardens. “No, take it back.” 

“What?” You pout and bat your eyes as you peek up at him. 

“You’re not going to talk about yourself like that. Not with me. So take it back.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry--” 

“Apologise to yourself,” he insists staunchly. “Honey, don’t let her control you. She’s gone.” 

“But... but...” 

“You’re adjusting. I understand that. I’m not expecting you to be okay right now. Be patient with yourself. Be patient with me. We’re both... figuring this out.” 

You nod and your lips twitch. You could cry. 

“Thanks, er, I’ll... change then. Um, Andy... are we going somewhere?” 

“Sure, sweetheart. I mentioned earlier, didn’t I? About clothes? I tried to get the officers to agree to an escort to go to your mom’s but you saw her. She’s not in her right mind,” he explains. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you flutter your fingers nervously and he looks down at them. You clasp them over your chest to make them stop. “I’ll hurry up then.” 

You turn and scurry out. You go into the front room and grab the neatly folded clothes. He keeps everything so tidy and in its place. You go to the bathroom and set it on the counter. 

As you take your panties from between the jeans and tee shirt, you hesitate. It’s a bit embarrassing to think of him washing your underwear. You could’ve done it if he showed you where the machines are. 

You shrug it off. You’re just happy he helped. It’s a nice feeling when people do things for you. 

You change and bring out the borrowed clothes. Andy is still in the kitchen. You stand in the doorway. 

“Where do I put these?” You ask. 

He pops his head up and tucks away his phone, “oh, I can take care of them.” 

“Thanks, Andy, but uh, could I see? I’d like to know where everything is so I can help.” 

“Help?” He approaches and takes the clothes, his hands brushing over yours. “With what?” 

“I don’t know, everything?” You say. “You helped me so much and I want to do the same. I want to be useful. I want to be... better.” 

The tension leaves his shoulder and he smiles. “Alright, sure, that’s nice of you.” He goes to step past you then stops. “Sweetheart, you know, your mom is wrong. About everything. You’re an amazing girl. Really, you’re wonderful. And today, I want you to try as much as you can to forget. I want you to feel good about you, because you should. Because you deserve it.” 

You swallow and bounce nervously on your feet, “Andy, you’re so nice.” 

“I’m just being honest. Should’ve tried that a lot sooner,” he says. 

[pricegouge]

Also for the apocalypse if you’re still in the mood … Nik and his dochka who didn’t have a particularly healthy normal relationship to begin with, and toss in either a contagious infection or mutation-causing radiation, maybe some sex pollen type vibes. Nikolai locking his sweet girl up in her room after he’s exposed— needs to protect you from him— and he’s getting all of these sick urges… but he’s a strong man with an iron will, so he’ll be fine. You can stay in here until… until this wears off. Until there’s a cure.

His will may be iron when it comes to denying himself his own desires, but when it comes to you? It’s paper thin. He can only stand to hear your crying and pawing at the door for so long. You’re used to so much affection from him, he’s all you have left in a world that’s ending, you’re used to being able to crawl into his bed to sleep if you need to. You just can’t handle feeling so lonely, even if it’s what papochka says needs to happen to keep you safe. It hurts too much to be without him, you tell him as much, chipping away at his resolve. Not to mention the sweet scent coming from your door, like a siren call…

-🦷

I've said it before and I'll say it again. whatever the hell the opposite of dacryphilia is will always get me

cw: incest, obviously. grooming implied. dubcon due to consent being pretty meaningless but aside from that everyone is very happy to be here. i ended up adding a dash of religious guilt just cause i thought it added to reader's innocence. unedited and idek if it's hot to anyone else but like. gotta jump back on that smut writing horse sometime.

the worst part is, you want to be strong for him but you just can't seem to manage it. you know he's in pain, that he's scared for your safety. you want to be good, like he asked. because you're always good for him. but everything's been so hard ever since...

well, ever since.

(you don't like thinking about it, the incident. that first encounter, on the train, when papa had had to bloody his fist on a man's jaw because he'd gotten to close to you.)

they said it affected one's inhibition. made angry men violent, and lustful men like that one on the train... physical. in the streets, people had been reduced to animal instinct, but papa was not a sinful man so you didn't understand when he'd locked you away in your room, offering no real explanation beyond a general need to keep you safe.

yet there was no safer place than by his side, especially not when you spend every waking minute scared, jumping at shadows as the ghost of the man on the train haunts you late into the night. you'd tried to keep your cries muffled, but it was hard to do so in your sleep. twice now you've woken up to the sound of your father just outside the door, thumping his head against it as he tries to keep himself in check. keep himself away from you.

it only brings you more tears, fear and loneliness mixing until you can't even pry yourself away from the door, scratching at it like an abandoned puppy as you cry for the man who has always made things better, who's never once denied you anything until now.

he gives when you ask if it's the virus making him this way, if he's always wished to keep you locked away from him. "you're like that man, aren't you?" you sniffle, heaped next to the door one evening with your cheek pressed up against it, listening to him pacing on the other side. "acting on impulse. only, you don't want me." your voice creaks, fresh sobs building, but it's drowned out by the squeal of the hinges, the door falling away from you as it's ripped back, spilling you out into the hall where's papa's crouched to catch you, free hand heavy as he stokes it over your brow, down your cheek. with his forehead pressed to yours, he murmurs something about how stupid you are and then kisses you soundly before you can even get yourself worked up about the insult.

apologies follow, murmured against your skin in between the kisses he peppers across your face. he's sorry for locking you away, for ignoring your cries. he's sorry he left you all alone when he knows how scared you are. he's even sorry for calling you stupid, a notion that would make you giggle if not for the way his stubble scratches your skin, makes you arch into him, seeking more. he's overgrown, hasn't shaved properly in days. you wonder if that's due to a general lack of care brought about by the virus, or because supplies are going limited.

but it's hard to care about such things he's pressed against you so insistently, blocking out all other thoughts with a physicality you're unused to from him. papa has never been distant by any means (in fact the two of you have always had the close sort of relationship that's made your friends jealous. snide little comments and meant to drive a wedge between you. papa had never let you listen, assured you that your friends were simply misguided because their own fathers were no good.) but this feels different. his kisses have never lingered like this before, never been pressed into the crook of your neck, humid breath lingering on your skin as he breathes deep your scent. neither have you ever felt -. he's never been -.

"i'm sorry, milaya," he says again, aimless, like he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for anymore. generally, maybe.

there's no need for it, regardless. you hold his face between your palms and tell him it's okay and he caves, again, sinking against you with his lips sealed to yours until your knees buckle and he guides you to the bed. he keeps apologizing but you don't want to hear it, not when he's making you feel so good, so you distract him with more kisses, keep his lips busy another way. distantly, you know it's wrong, but what can it matter when the word's burning outside your window? when he's burning here and now, between your thighs, desperate for a relief only you can give him?

he promises to at least make it good, makes a sound like you've gut punched him when you say you know he will. he gets your skirt up first, lets you bunch it between your teeth when he draws embarrassing sounds from your lips, his own moving against your pussy with the same kind of ardor he'd shown your neck - desperate huffs and gentle, lingering kisses. it's… a lot, but not enough. makes you whine and squirm but doesn't make you mindless the way you'd thought it would, not until he groans in pleasure and digs himself deeper, panting against you with his nose pressed to your clit as he works you open on his tongue. he lets you get used to it, lets your pleasure build as much as it will, like this, dissatisfied and empty. he only moves when you're begging, fingers sunk into his hair as you try to pull him closer, deeper, anywhere -

of course he knows what you need. resurfaces with a deep, shuddering breath which he filters through the hair on your mound. his finger finds your hole as he mouths at you absently, too busy watching your reaction with heavy-lidded eyes. you take the first finger easily enough, cunt soaked with all his efforts. he gives you time to adjust anyway, digit gently probing against your front wall as he fucks it in and out of you minutely. it's better, but still not what you need, and he chuckles against your skin when you pout at him, trying to work your hips up despite the oppressive weight he's got leaned onto you.

"patience, dochka," he warns, no real heat. but it seems he's done denying you anything because his second finger lines up with the first even before he's finished speaking, blunt tip rubbing against your fluttering lips until they give, slight burn soothed by the way his first finger keeps rubbing against you. still, your father is a big man and it's a big stretch, forces a tiny gasp from you even as you try to breathe around it. and papa's at his limit for how much pain he can cause you.

his lips find your clit before you can even process the sting, long hot stripes that have you melting, legs falling away from him like a flower in bloom. he muscles impossibly closer in their absence, broad shoulders carving space for himself in the cradle of you. his free hand snakes over your hips, keeps you pressed against the mattress with enough force you couldn't squirm away even if you wanted. it's oppressive, being surrounded by him like this - even if you're not, not really, left lonely and open and embarrassed on your top half. it's good though, at least it is when you hide your face away and focus on papa's steady tongue, let him work you up until you don't feel the pain anymore, two fingers pumping into you with ease. you drift where he takes you, at his mercy as he reels you in and out of pleasure, distracted enough that you barely even register when he repeats the process with a third finger until his knuckles are bullying past your gate, earning another whine.

"i know, malýshka," he growls against your clit. "just a little more, hm? are you gonna be good for papochka?"

you're always good for him, nodding along before you can even fully register what he's asking. but that's okay because he makes it easy, sitting back enough that he can spit on your cunt, voice a low rumble of his native tongue as he watches you flinch at the sudden insult, hole clenching tight around his fingers before letting them ease oh so gently in, freshly lubed with his spit.

it gets easier after that, stretched so wide around his digits he can't miss any inch of you, scissoring you open with fingers that drag against all your most sensitive points. he doesn't go back to licking you yet, is too entranced by the way your mouth gapes, open and honest as he forces little whines from you, a heady overture to bass rumble of his voice, low enough you barely register when he switches back to english, a steady stream of praises which have you arching under him, always eager for his affection. khoroshaya devochka. that's it. there we go. give it to me. his thumb finds your clit and start to shake, falling apart at the seams.

"said i was like that man, dochka," he growls, a sudden vicious edge to his voice as he works you with singular focus. it sounds important so you try to listen, but he makes it hard with the rough pad of his thumb working you over. "durak. that man would have used you up. spat you out. not like him, milaya," he promises, kneeling back and dragging you with him, your legs pushed up and back until he could slot his hard cock up against your ass, lean his whole weight into you as he continued pumping his fingers into your abused pussy. your pleasure crests, pools in the basin he's made of your pelvis, brimming. spills when his free hand brushes your hair back from your face, that soft care you've always needed from him. "papa just wants to make you make you happy."

[yuurei20]

Updated Sebek Facts Part 12: Socializing (pt1)

At the beginning of Book 7 Lilia asks Ace and Deuce about Sebek, saying that he does not seem to have made any friends at the school in the 6 months since he left Briar Valley and Ace days, “He is kind of a loner…He insults people like, ALL the time. He even says stuff right to my face…And he always finds some way to make every subject about Malleus, then drones on and on about how great he is��I can see why people would idolize him. But, like, you don't have to make it your entire personality, y'know?”

Ace asks if Lilia wants them to be friends with them and Lilia says no, he wouldn’t ask that, but he would like the two card soldiers to give him a little nudge if they happen to notice him ever stuck during his time at NRC.

Deuce asks if it wouldn’t make more sense to ask them to help him and Lilia responds, “If the people here willingly accepted the hands proffered to them, they wouldn't have been chosen by the Dark Mirror.”

Lilia then presents Sebek to the first-year group, encouraging him to take the opportunity of the farewell party to bond with students from other dorms. Sebek’s response is that he does not have the slightest intention of being friends with such “shallow” people, as there is no need to be chummy with feeble humans who are naught but dead weight.

Deuce says that Sebek is embarrassing Lilia but Sebek responds, “What’s wrong with saying it like it is?,” telling them to be grateful to Lilia for being a kind soul and that they had better not let it go to their heads.

(Sebek's straightforwardness may have been inspired by the sword of truth: he is often repeating that he is merely speaking the truth.)

Lilia tells him that his future prospects are dim if he is already so stubborn at such a young age, the very picture of his grandfather, and that he has a golden opportunity to speak with people who have different viewpoints from his own: “The world's a far bigger place than you seem to realize. There's much to learn.”

When asked why "mediocre humans" bother him so much if he has already written them all off Sebek says, "Because I can't stand them making things harder for me!"

He gives the example of Ace and Deuce bickering in the library, and, when chastised, insisting that Sebek help with their assignment.

Trey thanks Sebek for helping Heartslabyul first-year students and Sebek responds, "You're not supposed to THANK me! Aren't you the Heartslabyul vice housewarden?! I shouldn't HAVE to look out for them. You clearly need to set a better example!"

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Can you imagine though?

You have a really deep gruff voice so not only does it carry, but it sounds distinct enough that it's like the first one people will pick out of the noise.

And EVERY little quippy comment you mutter to yourself basically is on blast whether you like it or not. You were muttering. Doesn't matter. You've had a long day. Doesn't matter. You are fucking done with everything and you want a shower. Doesn't. Matter.

Every word you say to yourself just to play with the sound [Ozone], every -nearly- internal dad joke that happens to have breath behind it. Every smart-ass comment you didn't have the mental energy to think through.

And really, with the number of telepaths around you, even keeping lines open as a kind of group comms, you aren't sure it always matters whether you keep comments in your head anyway. If you think it loudly enough, there are times when you may as well say it.

Maybe part of you defaults to occasionally saying things out loud just to keep your voice working during those long periods when you're completely alone and now you can't turn it off.

With your hearing you KNOW other people make these same kinds of comments but they largely go unheard or at least properly ignored.

Sometimes you wonder if it's a function of you not speaking so much at all that anything you do say catches people's attention. Maybe they haven't learned to differentiate your "speaking to someone else" vs "making comment to myself/rhetorically" voices, because they don't hear very much of at least one of them. Doesn't matter, really.

You weren't even trying to be funny, you're just cranky, tired, and haven't had your fucking coffee yet.

You are exhausted to the point of silly comments a lot. You're starting to take people more seriously when they encourage you to rest for that alone. About three ridiculous enough quips in -on any given day- and you decide it should be an early evening... But it's too late.

And you think it's just people who get close to you who will know you for these kinds of comments.

You tell yourself, you lie to yourself, well, at least it's the people who have primed their ears to pick me out of the noise because they've already decided they're my friends... And it's not like Hank can get on my ass for silly little jokes or references... Not like your voice stands out in any crowd and you walk around in a distinctive mask half the time [that everyone knows is you] or anything.

And then you meet Wade Wilson... And -eventually- you become pretty certain there's a multiverse, and you become pretty certain that somewhere out there, there is a universe where everything you say to yourself in a moment of uncaffeinated exhaustion or frustration is printed out in text for all the world to see. Another shot of whisky doesn't help.

It's not just that you said this. It's that you say these things and you know everyone hears you and you suspect in some universe it committed to paper as a permanent public record, if not the one you live in. It's a lost cause anyway. You may as well vent.

I wish you wouldn't say that Wolverine

[mllemaenad]

It's fascinating that the people who have most consistently and successfully established a connection to the titans are the Grey Wardens.

I'm not trying to oversell here: what they're doing has a lot of downsides. But while there are rare incidents of a dwarf truly connecting to a titan across the Dragon Age stories ... only the Grey Wardens have found a way to do it that's even moderately predictable. Sure, the Joining might kill you. But if it doesn't – congratulations, you're linked up to the Song of the titans.

Of course, they're connecting to the corrupted dreams of the titans: the infamous blight. And the more obvious differences in that connection obviously stem from that: the infertility, the eventual corruption of their bodies, the call of the Song that can overwhelm their minds.

But it's interesting what else is going on with them. I've never seen a Grey Warden dwarf do magic, the way Valta or Harding can. But I do wonder if that's an absolute rule, or just a side effect of the way they're connected.

It does seem to reconnect dwarves to their dreams. The archdemon dreams are the most obvious example, but there's also Oghren's account of a normal dream in Awakening. I recognise that that anecdote is meant to be funny but a) it still happens and b) there's now a lot of material from Harding that could also be described as "funny stories about dreams", and we aren't meant to disbelieve her.

So why no (obvious) magic?

Well, the thing about the Joining is that it is at least an attempt to connect to the blight safely.

The Joining requires darkspawn blood. Recruits are typically sent out under the watch of an older Warden to slay darkspawn and collect the blood. This is a test to see if the recruit has the courage and ability to fight darkspawn. Once the blood is collected, the Wardens add a single drop of Archdemon blood and use magic to make it at least remotely safe to consume. Archdemon blood is among the rarest substances in all Thedas, and it makes the Joining all the more exclusive a ritual. Older Wardens carry a small amount with them at all times. – The World of Thedas Volume 1

The exact details of how the blood is prepared remain a mystery, but the Grey Wardens have clearly gained some control over it. A recruit who is suffering from the taint may not be cured of it, but if they survive the Joining they will develop a resistance that may last decades. Without the Joining they will die or become ghouls like anyone else, so while a certain resilience on the part of the recruit may be part of the magic, it certainly isn't all of it.

Prospective Wardens consume as little as possible, as safely as possible, in order to gain the skills necessary to fight darkspawn: the ability to sense their presence, a practical if not literal immunity to the taint – and the all-important archdemon-killing presence of the taint in their veins.

Most of them aren't trying to do more with it. Although, yep, Avernus has the general idea:

The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons? The Joining ritual is crude. We take into yourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us. I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice—more beautiful than any other—that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn… —From the notes of Avernus. – Avernus's Notes

And that's the key thing he points out: the taint within a Grey Warden grows more powerful over time. However, the mental resistance to that taint breaks down as it grows, so by the time the taint is at its full power the Warden is effectively a ghoul. Yes, there are instances of intelligent, functional ghouls – but they're not the norm.

Power develops over time. One of the first things Alistair will tell a newly recruited Hero of Ferelden is that he can sense the presence of nearby darkspawn, but you can't ... yet. That power will develop with time.

In practice, by the time most dwarven Wardens have developed enough taint in them to even attempt magic, they're in no condition to try it. And even if they were, would they think to?

By contrast, both Valta and Harding are basically smacked in the face with the raw power of lyrium. It does not grow in them slowly, it comes to them all at once – and a certain amount of involuntary magic is performed on the spot. Once it's happened, they can't ignore it. They know they can do it.

I wonder if a dwarven Warden on the brink of their Calling might be able to throw some rocks around, if they really tried.

After all: genlock emissaries have magic, and a genlock is ... not exactly a dwarf, no, but it's also not exactly not a dwarf.

[ivyblossom]

Feed Your Own Beast

The perennial complaint from fanfic writers that they put so much effort into a story, therefore they are owed fannish engagement, and there ought to be some sort of return on investment for their fannish labour: I am perplexed. I'm not sure where these folks got the message that readers have the option to rank and sort fics by author effort. I must have glossed over that AO3 field all these years. Is it a Likert scale?

I understand wanting comments and kudos and all that. Getting fannish engagement on your work is amazing. Nothing has shaped me or helped me improve as a writer more than fannish interaction. I understand hoping for it, and I understand being disappointed when you don't get it. I understand bailing on a story because no one seems to be into it and that harshes your squee. Posting something in a vacuum when you were hoping to contribute to a fannish conversation is a bummer.

But in a "don't like, don't read" world where unsolicited con crit is harshly frowned upon, where the interaction you get should be neutral at worst and is usually only positive, thinking of that enthusiastic engagement as basic payment for entry is ugly.

It's not healthy to be annoyed that your effort isn't being duly rewarded when the only reward available is unalloyed praise. If you were being rewarded for effort, that praise wouldn't be genuine. Praise must be given freely. Fandom isn't a reward system for creator effort, and it's not a capitalist structure when people need to pay to participate, or where we should feel compelled to compensate anyone in fannish tokens.

I've read quite a lot of angry push back against the response "write for yourself", as if it means that you can't want or value fannish interaction and validation, and you can't be disappointed if you don't get any. That's not what it means. Most fannish creators hope their work will be well-received and that other fans will engage with it. But if you're writing fanfiction with the expectation that you will be doused in praise for your efforts, you're setting yourself up for a fall.

If you are writing for praise, you will always be disappointed no matter how much of it you get. Writing is hard, and there isn't enough praise to compensate for the effort and time it takes. "Write for yourself" doesn't mean "place no value on fannish enthusiasm for your work". It means "don't do this if you aren't feeding your own beast by doing so". Producing that fic needs to be part of your reward system. If it's not, if creating that fic and putting in the world doesn't feed your beast at all and you need the involvement of others to make it worth the effort, don't write the fic.

I don't care it that means fewer fics. We don't need more fics created by people sacrificing their time and effort when that labour doesn't bring them joy and/or satisfaction. Fan creators don't work for fandom, and fandom doesn't owe us payment.

The most heartbreaking part of this to me is what the complaints about insufficient interaction do to the people who have interacted. When fan writers claim they are not getting sufficient feedback and admonish people to interact more and better, it invariably makes the people who did interact with their work feel like their interaction wasn't good enough. That's unfair and untrue. If you expect more and better praise for your own efforts, give more and better praise.

I love fannish interaction. I cherish comments and kudos. I love recs and reviews. I am thrilled by any and all comments on fics, even fics that are a decade old or older, it's all great, validating, and wonderful. I am so grateful to the people who offer it and I welcome interaction at all times. I will never not welcome it with absolute and genuine delight, even when it's a key smash. But there is and never will be a toll to pay for reading.

Readers who read and don't kudos or comment: you are valid. Readers who feel guilt when reading admonishments to interact more: you are valid, and having nothing to feel guilty about. Fannish engagement should only ever be freely offered, never coerced. Enthusiastic consent only. If/when you decide to kudos/comment, do it because you mean it and you want to. And only then. Don't let anyone tell you what you should want to do. That's up to you.

[thekirammanjinx]

"If Caitlyn were a man, the caitvi power imbalance would be obvious and no one would be defending it" is a bunk argument because Caitlyn is not a man and her life experiences, socialization, and relationship to power are not that of a man. Cait and Vi both being women makes a fundamental diffenece in the dymanics of their relationship. Runeterra might, at the surface level, appear to be a sexism-free society, but it still reflects the social mores of the real world, and Caitlyn still shows the effects of female socialization.

When people say "what if Caitlyn were a man?" They're saying "what if caitvi was not caitvi, wouldn't that make you hate caitvi?"

You could ruin plenty of female characters by asking the same question.

What if Jinx were a man? I'm sure a lot of stans would love him, but imagine...a violently unstable man is possesive of his lesbian sister so he breaks into the home of her crush, watches her shower, abducts her naked, ties her up and tries to compel his sister to kill her.

Funny how that changes the optics a bit, isn't it?

Its wild that people use that as a "gotcha". "If caitlyn were a man" she's literally not and it would change the whole dynamic. Like yes, caitlyn lashing out and hitting vi is bad, but it's not the same as if a man lashes out and hits a woman. Like fundamentally it's just not.

Watering the dynamic down to "if she were a man" for the sole point of ignoring the context of the hit. People really think they're smart when they say this shit but they just sound ignorant.

Caitlyn being a woman is a defining part of her character, not just in her relationship but in the story. She is a lesbian. She is a woman. There is not a what if.

Honestly if caitlyn were a man so many people would write off her actions; they write off jayce and viktor and SILCO?! The way people act like silco was a good father to jinx...

Actually fandom can handle and write off the actions of men. They can't handle complex female characters that have a fall from grace or struggle with emotions vs morals. Like can these people actually bffr?

People also can't handle when women's actions aren't centered around men. The way people write off jinx and silco.

People can't even talk about the power imbalance of timebomb because they don't see jinx as someone with more power than ekko, oh because she's a woman with psychosis and mental instability at points. But literally all of s1 we see how the power dynamic sways between that relationship but nobody talks about it.

How about stop the "what if" Olympics and examine the show for what it's fucking giving us. People love to reach when they dont actually have an argument. Because now you're not examining the characters and story and the characters within the narrative, you're writing a whole new story and character.

[acecardexe]

WEEP FOR ME- EYELESS JACK x FALLEN ANGEL!READER

Summary: falling from the heavens and having your wings ripped from your back was bad enough, and now you stumble upon a demon , of all things, a demon. And he doesn't seem like he wants to help..

Warning: mentions of blood and gorey-ish actions, kidnapping?, subtle hints of being drugged.

A/N: yes Ik ejs mask is probably white idgaf. also there are somethings R(reader) doesn't know since they live in 'heaven'

part 1 out of..... 1 (SERIES NOT FINISHED YET)

The ground is cold beneath you, the torn silk robes you were clothed in, feeling like the weight of the moon, just seemingly dragging you down. A trail of blood in your wake. Pain radiates from your shoulder blades, where deep wounds now replace the wings that once carried you. The air feels heavy, oppressive, as if the forest itself mourns your fall. Stripped of grace,and trembling under the weight of mortality.

With trembling legs, you rise from the bloodstained ground, the pain in your back a constant reminder of what you've lost. The forest looms around you, its towering trees whispering with the wind. You followed the path of the forest, your stomach grumbled, you aren't sure what it wants or why it's growling at you.

The quiet rhythm of your footsteps is interrupted by a faint, deliberate crunch of leaves behind you. You freeze, heart pounding in your chest, and the forest seems to hold its breath. The sound comes again; measured, purposeful, and far too human to belong to the forest's creatures. A cold shiver races down your spine, the ache in your back flaring as if in warning. You stopped moving, listening to the sounds, just as you stopped to listen so did the footsteps, your head ached too much to focus on the source of the sound. You hear a growl, and not from your stomach. Behind you.

You whirl around, breath hitching, and your eyes lock onto a figure emerging from the shadows. A face, no, a mask. It was a cerulean blue , with dried black goo that was 'dripping' from the eye hole. The air turns icy, your instincts screaming to flee, but your legs refuse to move, rooted in place by the sheer, primal dread of the presence before you.

It looked human... But it didn't feel like one. the figure stared at you, probably having the same thought you were having. He was holding something in his hand, something shiny, something sharp, he smelled, familiar. like something you had seen before, but you couldn't quite place why.

You stepped back, limping slightly, the pain of your fall evident. The figures presence suffocating, its unseen gaze piercing into your very soul. Your vision blurs, the edges of the world fading to black, and your knees buckle beneath you. The last thing you feel is the cold, damp earth rushing up to meet you and the faint, eerie whisper of the growl shifting into something almost like words. Then, nothing, only the void, heavy and silent, swallowing you whole.

.

Your eyes flutter open, and a dull, sterile light enters your vision. The air is heavy with the metallic tang of blood. You realize you're lying on a cold, hard surface, it seemed like a bed but it wasn't soft and plush like you're one up above. Is this what humans really sleep on? The thought bubbled up in your head. restrained by thick leather straps around your wrists and ankles. Shadows flicker across the dimly lit room, The ache in your back returns with a vengeance, the pain sharper now, raw and searing. Above you, a strange array of tools gleams ominously, you realise your back doesn't hurt that much anymore, but it feels hard to move like something is wrapped around your body where your shoulder blades were.

Panic rises in your chest as you struggle against the restraints, 'wait what are you doing here? Why are you in the mortal world? Why are you.. ' oh that's right, you're a mortal now aren't you? Memories flood your head, remembering what happened and the encounter with the figure wearing the blue mask. a shadow enters your vision, you turned your head and see the masked figure staring, at you, well you presumed, he was staring at you. "what do you want from me?!?" you mustered up the strength to say at him.

then you realize it, why he felt so familiar even though you never met him - he was a demon! you learnt about demons and you even saw one before! except that time the demon was big at around 8'0 and head horns at the front of his head that curled upwards, he was a beautifully tragic but you couldn't pity him, 'he did this to himself' but to think about it now you're a demon too. And no angel would care to look in your direction, thinking of you as nothing but traitor. The masked figure didn't have pretty horns and wasn't 8'0 tall, he probably around two foot shorter. his breathing sounding inhumane.

"You were in my territory" it spoke, it had a deep, raspy voice yet it sounded so calm. like the waves of the sea, thrashing around in the middle of a starry night.

you could guess he was of male gender, by its mannerisms but then again you havent visited earth in such a long time so you could be wrong. you tried to sit up but you had quite forgotten that you were strapped to the hard, rigid mattress of its bed. "why is your bed so firm?" you spoke without thinking, you're eyes widened, at being so blunt and rude. the figure chuckled in amusement, maybe he thought you were stupid? maybe sleeping on a plush bed was a privilege and maybe he thought you were posh or something? you looked nervous. and opened your mouth to apologise but he talked first "It's a hospital bed, I don't sleep there." he replied walking up to you, he looked like you, like how a person looks at a lost kitten , you didn't know what else to say, so you looked around the gloomy room, the light was flickering and beside me were sharp tools. oh deity, what was he going to do to me? maybe he is a fallen angel too and he is helping me? then what is the reason for the restraints around my foot and wrists? you think to yourself, panic flowing through you again. your thoughts trying to trust him and the other side, praying for your life. it wouldn't matter anyways, He wouldn't save you and there's nothing you can do, restricted to the bed after all.

so you try your hardest to think back to when you learnt about demons, and how to escape from them, especially when you couldn't use your wings. you remembered the number one rule for demons, do NOT make ANY deals with them, and not to indulge in the seven deadly sins, or else you would have been sent down.... but you have already been sent down, so it would be worth a try wouldn't it? the seven deadly sins..

pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. now that you think of it how would that help you? being prideful might annoy him... being greedy might confuse and anger him... being lust full.. well, you've never done that before so you skip that thought, you would probably mess up anyways. being envious would, what? just confuse him? being wrathful would just anger him, being lazy would.. well, uh, you're restricted from movement anyways, so it doesn't matter. and asking for a lot of food.. he would just think that you're a plutocrat or something. so the best thing you thought about was to beg.

"please don't hurt me, I'm sorry I was in your territory! I just landed here.. I really didn't know it was yours!" you're stomach growled at you again, you were exactly a prideful person but begging was ideal either, he just stared at you for a couple of minutes before answering back. "I won't hurt you" he finally concluded "but you'll have to help me around"

what did he mean? what did he mean by that? oh no! is he trying to make a deal with me?? "what do you mean?" you asked, fear evident in your voice. "I wont hurt you.." he paused before thinking of compromises for not viciously attacking you or chopping you up for dinner. "...If you clean around the house and cook. you can do that can't you?". you bit your lip, you didn't know what to say because you didn't know how to do all of that. when you were an angel you didn't need to eat, or to cook. but you didn't want to die right after you fell from an inexplainable amount of metres up. "Y-Yes I can" you lie between your teeth, hoping it was convincing enough.

"good." He untied you and let you sit up "I bandaged the deep cut that you have on your back." he got a cup of water from the table with the strange looking objects and picked up a small white thing that was yellow halfway down t and gave it to you. "have this. it will..... stop some pain in your back if you still have any" you took the cup and the little white oval object and you didn't know what to do. so you just took the white thing and the water at the same time and they both went down you're throat easily, you were caught off guard because you didn't have time to chew it so you started coughing before settling down. "wh-what was that?" you cleared your throat, not getting any taste from it and you didn't feel like the pain was going away either.

"..it was a pill, now get up I'll show you where you can sleep" you stumbled getting of the 'hospital bed' due to you not used to your legs yet, and you half- expected to float out the room, as you leave the dimly lit room you felt much more calmy, relaxed, as if, if you were told to do something you would probably do it. how strange..

Part 2

Creepypasta Masterlist

[witchytakes]

What's impressive is that Latin America even some countries being the ones that kills most trans people and most trans people are on prostitution due to transphobia In paper are the most trans friendly countries

Brazil for example (I'm gonna use the country I live lol) is the country that kills most trans people in the world, meanwhile it's the one that holds the biggest trans population and the one with some trans friendly laws

Transphobia is equal to racism in the law and you could be fined by being blantantly transphobic with enough proof, yeah good luck trying to fire a trans woman from her job by being trans

Toilet violence sucks, it happens here too with many cis women too, but there's not plenty of TERFs, most women are fine with trans women

The biggest LGBT parade in the world

There's plenty of LGBT friendly neighborhood and cities

There's programs of the government to protect trans people and even helping them get job

You could fill up a document when you die you could be burried as you want and your transphobic family couldn't do nothing

There's trans politicians in the congress

HRT access is by far the easiest in the world, you can go on public healthcare and the longest waitlist are like 1 and half year, also by the law you can just get HRT if you want, it's forbidden for doctors to push the "live 2 years as woman to get HRT" you just do exams and fine they give you HRT and the best thing is for free

There's no blanchardian shit from the doctors, they are mandated by the law to give you HRT and if you know your rights you could even sue them for that, so most doctors couldn't gatekeep

Yeah the transfem part sucks with CPA doses here but at least they aren't giving Finasteride as a blocker like in UK

for transfems, DIY HRT is just buying from the pharmacy, yeah, no need to show a prescription, just know what you're buying and pick the estrogen, also it's cheap, you can also blood test with ease in any laboratory (even tho could be a bit expensive)

Minimal legal age for HRT is 16, and needs a parent approval to be given HRT, even tho, some places had given HRT at lower ages, also puberty blockers are allowed bellow 16 with a gender disphoria diagnose and parents permission (sometimes they get HRT instead)

Gender disphoria diagnose is only mandatory for surgeries and only that, the diagnose takes a year to be given and again doctors are mandated to give you, they could be sued by using blanchardian shit

Change name and gender markers is all by self ID since 2018, and it's kinda cheap tho, you just need to print some documents, pay the fee, and in two weeks your new birth certificate is there, you would still need to change the rest but the proccess is kinda easy, if you already have the birth certificate with hands you can change the other ones easily by paying nothing and just showing the birth certificate

hello! i saw in your pinned that you and your partner are looking to move to the states due to the transphobia in the uk and was curious if this last week has maybe impacted that and what you think is best for staying safe in the coming years?im non binary and doing the opposite - im moving from the states to the uk and its like. cool cool rising transphobia everywhere feels good feels comforting (/s) and obviously it is even worse for trans women! anyways maybe the answer is uhhh none of my business which is totally cool but i just wanted to hear your thoughts bc im kinda like oh this whole world is getting increasingly hostile and its hard to stay positive!

even with the new transphobic legislation under the trump administration, new york city is safer than the UK for trans women. period. also my partner already lives in the states, so the only reconsidering would be whether i go there or she comes here or we both go somewhere else (which is a lot less feasible).

i need you to understand that in the US right now courts are blocking attempts for Trump to move trans women into men’s prisons. in the UK, there is no question about it — trans women just go to men’s prison. this is just one example. here’s another: not disclosing you’re trans in the UK before you have sex with somebody can be legally considered rape by deception. which obviously is going to affect even people who do disclose.

from where i’m sitting there is absolutely no question about it. in the UK the so-called leftwing party is arguably even more transphobic than the right wing parties — I’d argue much more, even, considering that they’re rolling back trans legislation that the Conservatives put in place

i promise promise promise you things can be worse than outside your door. whilst “terf island” may be a nasty, unhelpful & cruel joke to the trans women living here, the situation it’s referencing is 100% true. in every practically university in the UK there are open terfs working and teaching there. just anecdotally, I was sexually harassed on the bus by a terf, my last cisgender ex-girlfriend introduced me to a terf she was friends with at her birthday party (and she somehow didn’t even twig her as a terf until I pointed it out).

like from context and the way you’ve phrased things i’m assuming you’re TME, so if the UK truly seems safer to you i say go ahead, everybody’s circumstances are their own. but if you want HRT or top surgery in the foreseeable future, expect to be on a waiting list for years if not a decade. also the trans scene here is utter shite. but again no offence if youre not a transfem you probably wouldn’t even notice (it’s fine if not thriving for nb folks cafab ime) so, grain of salt

[yamisnuffles]

DATV negative under the cut. Shouldn't need to be said but all very much my opinion and tastes, etc etc etc

At the end of the day, my biggest problem with Veilguard is that it lacks real replayability for me. But Claire, you might say, you've played four Rooks. And, fair, but that has been putting it on the easiest difficulty (which is turn off your brain easy) and skipping at least 75% of the dialogue each replay.

But that actually brings me back to my main complaint. I might have made four Rooks but it feels, at best, like two and only with very heavy headcanon at that. I made the opposite choices my second playthrough for everything, big and small. On paper, those two characters should have felt significantly different. One was a snarky human mage from Tevinter and the other was a straight forward, serious elven warrior. But, aside from different faction flavor dialogue and other minor changes (a bit of mage stuff for one and elven for the other), they fundamentally felt like the same person. There are a few reasons for that.

Each prior game gave ways to make the protagonist feel like an individual each time. The origins in Origin have a strong staying place to conceptualize who your Warden would be. Although the game was, imo, not terribly reactive to that after, you at least had lots of personal dialogue choices and you could make very different choices through the story. Then, in DA2, you were always Hawke but who Hawke was could feel substantially different. The game had a still unmatched personality system that would even change your ambient dialogue based on that personality. As such, a red Hawke spoke and reacted very differently from a purple Hawke and you even had different opportunities to get through some quests depending on that. Then in DAI, your background opened up different dialogue choices and the world would react to you in different ways. A non mage human noble would have a much easier time in the Winter Palace than, say, a mage qunari.

The second point, which is true for every prior game, is that your relationships with your companions could be very different. On DAO you could kill your companions or they could try to kill you if they disagreed strongly enough. I personally don't like the option to kill companions for various reasons but my point is that your relationship could range from besties/lovers to outright murderous contempt. DA2 has the friendship/rivalry system which, while it had its flaws, resulted in very different paths with companions. The companions also started to ask after you more and you might even be integrated into some banter. DAI was less extreme than the prior two but you could still get different paths with companions based on how much they liked you. Cassandra might get drunk after you're named Inquisitor, you could punch Solas and Dorian, and so on. The companions also reacted a lot to things you went through in the story and even to your specialization.

Finally, every class feels kind of the same. They're all relatively enjoyable but it doesn't really feel substantially different to play a mage, rogue, or warrior. Each class has very limited amount of abilities and they've all been made to feel a bit magical. This isn't quite as big from an RP standpoint (though it is still a thing for me) but it does hurt replay since a fair part of the game is fighting.

How much any of these things worked for players sort of boiled down to personal preferences but they were at least there. Romances wouldn't trigger or might even be broken under certain circumstances in other games, while the only thing that matters in DATV is that you flirt with them. Approval is meaningless. The only major difference in how you interact with them is pretty much just whether or not you talk to them at all/do their side quests. Otherwise you're always on good terms with them and they with you. Also, aside from the choice between Minrathous and Treviso, there simply aren't big choices that can be played differently and the small choices don't much matter. Most of the companion choices have superficial changes at best for them, with the exception of Emmrich.

What was the only thing that made the game feel different? Very, very thorough headcanon. Playing as Kieran felt different not because of anything the game did but because of work I put into it. Which, if that's all you ever want, that's fine. For me, the only thing that kept me making other Rooks was a desire to see certain romances. When I replayed the other games, I never skipped dialogue but this time it all feels so samey that it feels like there's no point in playing through it.

At the end of the day, I feel like Veilguard works best if you're a one PC kind of person. I've liked all my Rooks but that's bc I like the general person Rook is. I like the character creator, which is also enough to get me making new characters. I still don't think it's a bad game but it found new ways to disappoint me in ways I didn't expect for a BW game. I very much understand there are reasons it is the way it is but it's still a bummer when it's very, very likely there will never be another DA game.