#and i really. think that this one fucking person is the reason why i have so many walls up.

[imsofreakingtired]

Can we PLEASE get an angsty sevika!Xreader headcannon for reader who is a removing shimmer addict and is struggling with cravingssss

omg i love that. also, sorry this took a while, couldn't figure out a way with a hc list so i wrote it as a drabble instead 😭

hold me, console me

content warning(s): depictions of addiction and withdrawal

"come on, don't leave me, it can't be that easy babe if you believe me, i guess i'll get on a plane fly to your city, excited to see your face hold me, console me, and then i'll leave without a trace"

~~~

“Sevika,” you groan, “I’m going to die.” 

“I hope not.”

She walks into the room, twisting off her prosthetic arm. This is a good sign. It means she is ready to settle down with you, that she doesn’t have any plans of leaving again for a while. 

Sevika sits down on the side of the bed where you’re lying with your knees curled against your chest, trying to breathe through wave after wave of pain. She places her warm hand on your thigh and straightens your leg. Her voice is soft. “Stretch, baby. It’ll get easier.” 

What they didn’t tell you about coming off Shimmer: the muscle spasms. The blinding headaches. Your body can’t adjust to the sudden drop in energy after such intense and constant enhancement of the senses. It is recoiling at normality. It is punishing itself for ever getting hooked in the first place. 

You can deal with the physical symptoms, though. You’ve been through some shit. You’re tough enough to handle a little pain. What you can’t stand are the cravings, the nightmares, the paranoia. You wake up several times a night in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably after some terrifying, nonsensical dream. You break down at the most inconvenient times, convinced that Sevika has finally gotten sick of you, that she’s leaving you, that she’s already gone. On really bad days you’re ready to kill for just one shot, one tiny vial, just to take the edge off. You crave the kick, the rush of heat in your head, the burst of energy. The feeling that you can do anything. Even as it killed you slowly, even as you felt the aftereffects eroding your body. You know in the back of your mind that the decision to quit has saved your life. But gods, was it hard to stay off it. 

Sevika watches your face with gentle eyes as she massages your legs. Her big hand, rough with calluses, powerful and tender. She is strong even without Shimmer. When you were using it, you felt almost like you deserved her, that you belonged to her—that you could repay her even a little for what she did for you. 

Now you look up at her and wonder what she sees first—the traces of Shimmer, the faded pink veins lining your skin? The desperation in your eyes? The way your limbs lie, depleted and scarred from the past use of the substance? 

“Sevika,” you say.

“Hmm.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Me when I was on it.” You shift on the bed, your head feeling heavy. “You know…you know how I fucked like you never saw before when I was on it.” You mean it to be a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to smile. This is your fear: that she met you when you weren’t quite yourself, that she’s disappointed in the person you actually turned out to be. 

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she asks in a low voice, “do you think I was with you because of the way Shimmer made you in bed?”

“I’m useless now,” you say. You feel the tears burning behind your eyes, and you’re ashamed of the way your voice falters. “I can’t even lift a full crate of bottles.” 

Sevika moves closer to you. You push yourself away, not because you don’t want her to touch you, but because you don’t want her pity. You dread some words of nonsense flattery, empty reassurance. You don’t want her to lie to you, then turn her back, the way countless others have done before. It was part of the reason why you started using Shimmer in the first place—so you could feel, for once in your life, that you were powerful—someone people wanted to stay for. 

She doesn’t say anything of the sort, though. You’re lying on your side now, back turned to her so you can’t see her face. 

She says, “get over here, idiot.” 

You turn your head. She lies down beside you, aligning her body close against yours. The heat of her skin feels good against your aching back. She wraps her right arm over your waist, pulling you close to her. 

Into your shoulder she murmurs, “you’re not useless.” 

The tears gather in your eyes and you can’t stop them from falling into the bedsheets. 

“It’ll get easier,” she says again. She brushes your hair away, kisses your neck. “And I’m always gonna want you.” 

“How did you do it?” you whisper. “It must have been so much worse for you.” 

“Baby, does this body look like it’s built the same way as yours?” 

You laugh weakly. 

“It was hell,” Sevika says. “So I get it.” 

You reach for her hand and hold it close to your heart. “It’s still beating, right?” You ask. 

“Yes, thank god.” 

“You’re not leaving, right?” 

“No, fool. Get some rest.” 

You let your eyes close. Your breathing grows even. Sevika is not a woman of many words, but you know that when she makes a promise she will keep it.

~~~

thank you @prettyinpink69 for the req :)

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Soulmate(s) | Part 2

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: In a world where you get the name of your soulmate tattooed on your skin the night you turn 21, there should be no reason to even think about fucking around with anyone else. Why would you when you know that the perfect person who is made just for you is somewhere out there waiting for you to find them? 

So how the hell did you end up messing around with your two best friends and what are you going to do if neither of them ends up being your soulmate or worse, what if one of them is your soulmate?

Warnings: fem!reader, soulmates au, this is not a light fic, there will be backstabbing and manipulation, sub!soobin, dom!gyu, switch/gyu, handjob, cunnilingus, blowjob, tit-fucking, cumming all over oc lol

____________________________

Beomgyu and Soobin have been trying to convince you to hook up with them again since you’ve last done it, something you’ve been very hesitant to do. You’d only really meant to kiss Soobin. You didn’t mean for Beomgyu to get involved or for things to go this far, but it seems you’ve opened Pandora's box now as the two boys have only become bolder and more insatiable since then–begging and pleading you to join them every time you were alone together. 

Yes, join them, as they clearly have not been waiting for your permission to continue their forbidden rendezvous, and they’re making sure you know. Like right now, you were supposed to have your regular movie night together but none of you were paying any attention to the movie. The two boys are loudly kissing on the couch as Beomgyu’s hand moves under Soobin’s pants– the wet sounds of their kissing and their heavy moans and grunts would make it impossible to hear the movie if you were even trying to. 

But you’re not, and you can’t pretend you are. They can clearly see the stern frown you’re throwing at them, but they don’t care, Beomgyu’s face buried in the older boy’s neck as he jerks him off in his pants. 

Soobin whines your name out, the plea clear in his voice, and it would make you wet if you weren’t already soaked. “Come here, please. I want to kiss you.” 

Ugh, the siren call. It was one thing for Beomgyu to beckon you towards this sin with his smirking face and cocky attitude, but it’s another thing entirely for your good little Soobin to so sweetly, so cunningly, try to break your inhibitions. No, he’s not sweet or innocent. He knows what he’s doing and it’s fucking working. 

Beomgyu lifts his head from Soobin’s wet neck to level you with his heavy gaze as he pulls Soobin’s cock out of his pants. “Come on, baby, look how much he needs you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together. Damn them. Damn them to hell. 

“It doesn’t look like he needs me. Looks like you’re taking care of him all right on your own.” You impress yourself by being able to speak through your completely parched throat. 

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’d like it extra hard if your pretty mouth was on his cock.” At this, he twists his hand around Soobin’s head and the older boy cries out. “Yes, please, please, want it.” 

“Shut up.” You curse him under your breath as your hand finally moves between your legs to soothe the burning need there. You’ve watched them do this way too many times now. It burned you with both need and jealousy because, damn it, you want to be with them too but it’s wrong! You can’t do this. You need to stop it and remain loyal to your destined soulmate. 

But like a vulture, Beomgyu jumps at the first sign of weakness from you. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that.” He tugs on your arm, pulling it away from your pussy, making you almost growl at him. How dare he?! Hasn’t he tortured you enough? 

But you don’t get the chance to chew him out because he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing his front and his very hard cock pressing against your lower back, his large warm hands on your inner thighs and the precum from Soobin’s dick sticking to your skin. 

“Let us take care of you.” He purrs in your ears, his hands massaging your sensitive thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most. You try to close your legs but he doesn’t let you, and you can’t fucking think with his hot breath on your skin. “Let us make it stop hurting.” 

“Fucking asshole.”

He laughs at your response, one of his hands getting impossibly close to your pussy. “Is that a yes?” 

“Just get it over with.” 

Now you know Beomgyu would’ve liked a more enthusiastic response than that but you also know that he’ll take what he can get, and after weeks of begging and whoring around, he finally gets to touch you, his long fingers pressing over your covered slit. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He moans, greedily pushing your shorts to the side so he can fully feel how wet you really are, his fingers easily gliding over your wet lips, and you keen, your back arching at the sudden intense stimulation. 

“I hate you.” You still put up your act, but Beomgyu doesn’t care, just focusing on breaking you down on his fingers. And break you do, gushing out even more slick as he alternates between rubbing your clit and sliding his fingers up and down your pussy. 

You almost forget that you’re not the only two people there for a second, too lost in the intense pleasure, until Soobin whines and you see him moving out of the periphery of your vision to take center stage on the floor in front of you. 

“Can I try it now, Beommie?” The older boy’s hands sear your skin as he pushes your thighs further apart and presses his face right between them. You shriek, reflexively attempting to close your legs once again at the embarrassing and exposed position you’ve found yourself in but you stand no chance against the two boys splaying you open for their pleasure. 

“You’re scaring her, idiot.” Beomgyu snaps at Soobin but you can see that the older boy is only half listening, too focused on the way Beomgyu’s fingers continue to play with your pussy. “Should’ve waited a bit.” 

“But I can’t wait any longer!” Soobin whines and you crane your head to try to catch Beomgyu’s eyes. “Wait for what? What are you two shits planning?” 

Beomgyu uses the opportunity of you turning your head towards him to steal a quick kiss from your lips. “Binnie just wanted a taste. He’s been talking about it nonstop. Will you let him have a little taste?” 

Your eyes widen. “You’ve both lost your minds. You really think I’ll let him do that? You’re both perverts!”

Soobin starts loudly whining, attempting to plead his case, attempting to convince you that he–the man with his dick out at your feet and begging to eat you out–is not a pervert. But Beomgyu snaps at him, shutting him up. 

“Forget it. You ruined it. She doesn’t want it.” He hisses at the older boy who amazingly cowers back and shuts up. “Here, this is enough for you.” He takes his hand off your pussy and pushes the wet fingers against Soobin’s pillowy lips. You gasp as the other boy immediately opens up to suck them in, moaning out obscenely as if it’s the tastiest sweet he’s ever had. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, pulling his hand away from Soobin and making them both protest. 

“Why?!” 

“Come on, let him have this.” 

“You’re both disgusting.” 

“What’s disgusting about wanting to taste our lover?” Beomgyu asks, and you shiver at the word–lover. Are you lovers? Why does that word make your heart flutter so much? “You must’ve seen the educational tapes. This is a perfectly normal part of pleasuring your mate, just like if you were to suck his cock.” 

“Oh, I would not do that. No way.” Your face flushes heatedly as you vehemently deny you’d do such a dirty thing. “It wouldn’t even fit…”

You know cunnilingus is a normal sex act but it feels too intimate to share with someone who isn’t your soulmate–with your two fucking best friends. 

“Now you’re just being a tease.” Beomgyu growls, eyes darkening at your choice of words. 

“Please,” Soobin inches closer to you again, his big bunny eyes staring up at you as his plush lips stop centimeters away from your needy pussy, so deprived that even his breath makes you shiver. 

You’ve already done so much together. Would it really be so bad to let him do this? He seems to really want it, and you can’t deny the fact that you want it too. They’ve both teased you way too much already. Why are you teasing yourself? 

“Okay.” 

“Oh, than–” You can’t even hear the rest of his appreciation as it gets smushed against your lower lips. 

“Fuck.” You curse lowly, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and pleasure as Soobin finds his way around your pussy–first very clumsily but slowly getting more deliberate, guided by the boy behind you. 

“Slow down.” He tells him when Soobin gets too rowdy, “Flatten your tongue out. Focus here.” He instructs as if he’s done this before and somehow it’s working. You’re slowly but surely feeling your high build up. 

“How the fuck do you know so much?” You grit out, asking Beomgyu. 

“I watch the videos a lot.” He admits easily, referring again to the education videos all of you are provided when you get closer to your 21st birthday so you’d know what to expect when you finally meet your lover. “Wanna make sure my soulmate will be thanking their lucky stars they ended up with me.” 

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right. The pervert probably is just using them to get off every night if what you’ve witnessed of his libido these past few weeks is any indication. “I don’t remember the educational videos containing such filth. Are you sure you haven’t been watching those soulmateless degenerates instead?” You accuse, referring to the taboo tapes sold secretly by some of those who have either never gotten a soulmate or have lost them in one way or another.

In a society such as your own, where almost everyone has a second half, those without their fated partners end up being shunned. They simply freak people out. After all, why don’t they have someone? What is so wrong with them that the universe has chosen to curse them to a life where they’ll never know the touch of true love? 

Even still, not all of them start out totally isolated. After all, they were once just like all of you with loving families and supportive friends before their terrible fates were revealed on the very day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives–expecting to be given eternal love and instead finding themselves with a gaping hole in their hearts that is only fated to grow bigger and bigger every passing day.

Their loved ones may try to cheer them up. They may try to convince them that they could still lead a normal life. They try to pretend that nothing has changed, but everything has changed. Their lives could never be the same after that. They know it and everyone around them knows it too. They would never be in love. They would never marry and have a family. They would never know what it’s like to finally feel whole. And it slowly gets to them. The older they grow, the bigger the gap in their heart grows and they begin to resent those around them. They begin to begrudge those who have what they never will. They turn angry and bitter and they start lashing out at the very people who tried to help them. 

They start to seek out the passion that is missing from their lives in other places. Some turn to drugs, some turn to sex and some take on dangerous and risky jobs just to feel alive. They may even come to gain some respect and prominence in society depending on how they choose to chase those thrills. But it would never be enough. They would always have to do more and more to get even a fraction of the natural bliss that comes from finding your soulmate and knowing you’re finally home, and they start losing themselves bit by bit, chasing even riskier and riskier highs until they burn out. 

You shudder at the thought. That is your worst fear. To be left abandoned by the universe. 

You’re thankfully torn out of your gloomy thoughts when Beomgyu unceremoniously pulls your shirt up over your chest to expose your breasts which he cups in his hands and expertly kneads, massaging the soft flesh and pulling at your pebbled nipples. 

Instantly, pleasure floods your brain and drowns out the scary thoughts until all you can think of is how strong and solid he feels against you, how his long sure fingers touch you so well, and how sexy his deep voice sounds in your ear as he continues to instruct Soobin on what to do. 

“Fuck.” You cry, arching into his touch, throwing your legs wider apart and inadvertently pushing your pussy against Soobin’s face, his nose brushing against your clit and causing a spasm to go through your body. “I’m close. Don’t stop.” 

Through blurry eyes you see Beomgyu grab Soobin’s hair and push him even further against your pussy, rubbing his face against you as the older boy excitedly lets his tongue flick between your lower lips, filling the room with an obscene wet noise that rises even louder than the ringing in your ears. 

“Soobinnie, fuck!” You groan and Beomgyu nips at your neck, lightly grazing the skin of your neck with his teeth, careful not to mark you, and pinches your nipples between his fingers, pulling your orgasm right out of you. 

“Yes, yes, I’m cumming!” You scream out, your orgasm ripping through your body as both boys ruthlessly continue playing with you, not letting up until you start tearing up. “Enough, enough, too much.” 

Beomgyu is the first to stop. It takes him pushing Soobin away for the other boy to stop too–whether not caring or not hearing, you don’t know, but when he is detached from your pussy, you see how his entire lower face is now covered in your slick–his pretty lips even bigger and puffier from the activity. 

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and Beomgyu laughs. 

“He's so good, isn't he baby? Those dirty lips were made just for this.” He pulls Soobin's head back to run his thumb over his wet lips. “He’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy, huh?”

Beomgyu's the one who’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy. Though Soobin has done most of the work, it’s Beomgyu's constant filth in your ears that worked you up so much. It’s like he can get you both to do anything and it scares you. 

What if you end up cursed because you’ve gotten greedy and chose to seek out the pleasure and intimacy that is supposed to only come from your soulmate from someone else? 

“This is so wrong.” You slur and Soobin frowns, pulling your leg down so he can place your foot over his hard cock, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil happening inside your brain. “It would still be wrong after you get us off.” 

You glare at him as Beomgyu bursts out laughing behind you. “Fucker.” 

“He’s right, baby. It’s unfair to say this after we’ve already gotten you off.” He grinds his cock against your ass and you hate how that still makes you burn. “I said it from the start, asshole.” 

“Well then it won’t make a difference if you get us off too.”  

He slips out from under you to stand up in front of you, pushing his shorts down and shamelessly giving his hard cock a few pumps right in front of your face. “Look how hard you got me with your pretty little moans.”

“You're disgusting.” You scoff but Soobin also rushes to his feet, his own cock already out ages ago. 

“Me too. Wanna feel your touch too. Beommie is too mean. He always teases too much.”

At the mention of their previous hookups you get jealous again. They have done so much without you it’s not fair. What if one of them is your soulmate and you’re missing out on all your first experiences together because you won’t join them. You know you like them both, and you know they like you too. Soulmates can feel a connection even before the names are revealed so it’s not unlikely that one of them is destined for you. 

At least that is how you justify to yourself the jealous drive that prompts you to reach out to grab their cocks, one in each hand, jerking them off slowly but firmly. 

“Fuck yeah.” Beomgyu groans, throwing his head back slightly in pleasure but keeping his eyes on you

“Your hands are so small.” Soobin marvels and Beomgyu adds, “And so soft.” 

You blush, feeling shy under their intense gazes. You try to fix your clothes to cover yourself up but they immediately protest. 

“No, why? You look so sexy.” Soobin cries, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his cock. 

“Come on, it will get us off much faster seeing your pretty tits out like this.” Beomgyu spews filthily, and you glare up at him, but he just smirks. “Fuck, you’re even sexy when you’re angry. Wonder how much better you’ll look with your face covered in my cum and your tits covered in Soobin’s.” 

The older boy squeaks at that, pushing his hips forward so the head of his long cock brushes against your nipple, smearing a light sheen of precum over it. 

“Soobin!” You gasp, glaring at him, but Beomgyu cups your face and turns it towards him. “Come on, baby, let him have his fun. He’s been so good to you, hasn’t he? Eaten out that pretty little pussy so well, yeah?” He drawls out, his thumb brushing over your lips. 

You get so pulled in by his heated gaze that you let Soobin do what he wants, rubbing his cock again and again across your tits while Beomgyu pushes his thumb into your mouth. 

“Good girl. You wanna be such a good girl for us, don’t you?” He purrs, completely enchanting you somehow. He uses his thumb in your mouth and his grip on your face to make you nod and you let him. How is he so good at this? And why are you letting him? 

“Wanna try your mouth.” He pleads, taking his thumb out of your mouth and gliding the head of his cock over your lips instead. You feel the wetness smear over them and your tongue instinctively peaks out to clean it up, in the process coming into contact with Beomgyu’s cock and making him gasp out in need. “Please.”

If you had planned to refuse him before, you couldn’t after seeing how weak and desperate just that little touch made him. You’ve been fantasizing about seeing him break again since that last time. He just looks so pretty when he loses it. 

“Just the tip.” You say and he curses. “Fuck, okay, baby, anything. Need it so bad.” 

And he pushes in. Just the tip as promised, but you feel like even that fills up your mouth. You wrap your lips around his head and press your tongue against the slit to lap up his precum like a lollipop. It immediately drives him mad and he throws his head back and cries out like a desperate slut. It makes you want to push him more and more so you intensify your efforts, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the head, watching his whole body shake as you suck and lap at the head of his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it.” 

“Hey, no fair, we promised to share her.” Soobin’s whine jolts you out of the spell Beomgyu cast on you and your turn your head towards him to see him try to push his cock towards your mouth too. 

You take your mouth off Beomgyu, making him growl and snap at Soobin. “What the fuck, man? I was so close!” 

“Beomgyu, play nice.” You scold him, secretly loving the fact that they’re fighting for your attention. Those two have made your life a hot hell for the last few weeks with their little lewd shows. They made you horny and jealous and frustrated and you love giving them just a little bit of that energy back. And secretly you’re happy and relieved that they want you too–that they have not just found each other and abandoned you–that you still have a chance with one of them. 

“Binnie, I thought you wanted to fuck my tits.” You purr, repeating Beomgyu’s choice of words and making the tall boy shudder and his eyes grow heavy. Those boys really are suckers for dirty talk, huh? 

“Yeah but Beomgyu–”

“No buts.” You tighten your hand around his cock and pull him forward, pressing his cock flush against the middle of your chest and shutting him up. “Press my tits together so you can fuck them nice and hard. Don’t want you to stop until they’re covered in your cum.”

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath and rushes to do as you ordered, grabbing your breasts in his big hands and pressing them together before going off at a rough choppy pace. 

You feel a harsh tug at your hair as Beomgyu turns your head back towards him, your eyes meeting his narrowed ones, but as you open your mouth to chastise him for his roughness, he pushes his cock back in your mouth. 

You attempt to say something but with his incessant grip at the back of your head and his sloppy thrusts into your mouth, all that comes out is a wet garbled mess. Soon, you give up, just letting your two best friends use your body to get off, their tall frames looming over you and their filthy gazes eating you up as one fucks your mouth and the other fucks your tits. 

You feel so dirty yet so hot, and in that moment you understand the urge that drives those without soulmates to seek such lurid pleasures. If they end up together and you end up alone, you can see yourself falling victim to these desires. You just love them both so much, it scares you. You want them to be yours, and that terrifies you. Only one of them could be your soulmate. Neither of them could be your soulmate…

“Ah, I’m so close.” You hear Soobin whine. You try to look at him but Beomgyu doesn’t let you. Instead you see him reach out of the corner of your eyes to wrap his hand around Soobin’s cock and jerk him off fast, quickly pushing him over the edge. 

You can’t see it but you know he has cum when you hear the breathy shouts of your and Beomgyu’s names and feel his hot cum splattering across your chest. You whine around Beomgyu’s cock and start resisting the way he’s moving you over his cock as you feel your jaw becoming sore and your lips getting bruised. 

He sighs, letting you pull away a little bit, drool following behind his swollen length out of your mouth and down your chin and his hand as he grabs his cock it with the same hand he used to jerk Soobin off so he can now pump his own cock inches away from your face.  “Ready for it, baby?” 

Your mouth is so numb you can only muster out a little whimper that makes Beomgyu curse under his breath and his grip falter over his cock as he loses it, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes over your face. You instinctively close your eyes, wincing as the warm sticky substance lands on your face. 

“No, look at me.” Beomgyu growls, tugging at your hair, the sting making your eyelids crack open slightly to lock eyes with Beomgyu and witness the last of his orgasm. “Good girl. Such a good girl.” 

“Fuck, that is so hot.” You hear Soobin mutter and the unmistakable wet sound of his hand moving over his spent cock as he watches Beomgyu treat you like a fucktoy. 

You feel so filthy–sitting there with your shirt pulled up and your shorts pushed to the side, exposed and absolutely covered in both their cums while they stare at you as if they’re not even close to having their fill. 

And you’re not either. God help you but you know that this is just the start. You’ve been pulled in and now you don’t think you can resist them anymore. 

This is bad. This is so bad and you know it won’t end well. 

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A/N: second chapter here, still not much plot but it will come I swear lol. the fics I have rn are so different, one only plot so far and one only smut. anyway let me know how we're feeling

[genderqueerdykes]

I'm so sick of perisex trans people telling me I can't be transmasc as an amab person. I'm fucking intersex and never had a real puberty let alone a really masc one. I grew some tiny tits and almost no beard, just some fluff. People constantly called me young lady all my teenage and young adult years. I was always looking too fem to be seen as a man but also not fem enough to just pass as a woman. But yea sure, no transition required here at all because i was born with a fucking dick. Cause what's in my pants is the only important thing when it comes to me being allowed to use the trans label.

hey, thank you for taking the time to send this! your story deserves to be told

i honestly don't understand why perisex trans people get so worked up about it. it's a very common, just not talked about experience. i get feedback from amab transmasculine people all the time, nobody wants to listen. amab transmasculine people get talked over so hard for the sake of petty internet drama it's so sad. that doesn't need to be happening. who does that benefit?

people really are way too focused on genitals right now. it's disturbing, and you should say it. that's just literally what we're dealing with right now. people are being predatory as hell right now, feeling like they NEED to know A.) the genitals someone currently has and/or B.) the genitals they were born with. i really just don't understand why that's the state of affairs right now. but every time people try to talk about it, it gets shut down. no matter what.

i just don't quite understand why perisex people are getting so defensive on the "behalf" of intersex people right now, it's so rude. it's hurting people, and we didn't ask you to do that. intersex people don't like you more when you hurt people for no reason. also, no one should feel obligated to divulge whether or not they are perisex, intersex, or something else. i don't like that people have to divulge any of this. you are allowed to control how much information you share about yourself on the internet. your safety and privacy is important. i think people feel way too entitled to very personal details about strangers at all times and it's frightening.

harassing you doesn't help me. i'm intersex. how does this help me, or any other intersex person? it just creates a situation where someone else has to step in to help. you're not accomplishing anything. i have no idea why people think hostility within queer spaces is a good thing but it's just so old. i want you to live as yourself, however you want to identify yourself as

of course you're transmasc. that's a very transmasculine experience, it doesn't make any sense to me why it matters to anyone. you are the arbiter of your own lived experience, nobody has any right to tell you how you identify. besides, in my eyes... aren't more transmascs a good thing ? that's what i thought, anyway. like that makes me happy. the more diversity in transmasc spaces, the better. i don't need to know anything about your body, or anyone else's. i don't like that. it's not productive. it's predatory. it's creepy. it's gross. it's invalidating.

thanks for stopping by, i hope things just like. calm the hell down. i just can't entertain that behavior it's damaging and i don't know why anyone is enjoying getting riled up anymore. just let people be. let amab transmasculine people talk

[for-a-longlongtime]

Pedro’s latest IG post about Cecilia Gentili: “They know that it is really powerful to be ourselves.” ✊ 🏳‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

(OLD picture of Pedro at the 2019 Outfest LA LGBTQ+ Film festival)

“Do not allow anyone to tell you that this is not a big deal, or that this is just a culture war, or that trans people are overstating the seriousness of what is going on. While we feel the fear and anger I also want you to know that trans people have always been here and will always be here. Many of us are still alive who have lived through very difficult times.

I was a trans child in Argentina in the 70s and I have been a trans person for nearly 50 years. Knowing your identity, who you are and where you come from is powerful. It's a very, very powerful thing. There is a reason why so many of these laws are targeting education. They know it's really powerful to be ourselves. That is why they are trying to keep teachers from telling children about gender identity, or sexualities that are not straight or cis. That is why they're trying to prevent teachers from sharing Black History Month and the reality of American history that is very fucking complicated. I think one of the most important things we can do for young people is to share those stories.

Once we know who we are, we cannot be stopped.

I believe firmly that while we might be living through some challenging times, progress is inevitable. The people who are opposed to our existence will do everything they can to make our lives as difficult as possible. They can do nothing to erase us or to make us disappear. As long as we are rooted in ourselves, in our identities, in our histories, and in our communities, there is nothing they can do to stop us.

I hope that you all take this fear, this frustration, this anger that you are feeling in this moment and that it inspires you to do even more for our community. Rather than give in to the people who wish for us to just disappear, we must meet this moment by caring for one another and strengthening our communities.

As I said, it is so deeply exciting to see so many young queer and trans folks graduating. And it makes me hopeful that all that you will do to take care of each other and our community will flourish in an amazing future for all of us.”

⬆️ I’ve transcribed the video that Pedro shared to his Instagram of activist Cecilia Gentili speaking at last year’s CUNY LGBTQI+ Student Conference - just in case it’s easier for people to read the full text instead of watching the video. Picture included of Pedro is an old one of him at the 2019 Outfest (LA LGBTQ+ Film Festival) because it seemed a good fit for the theme. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Original video below:

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A post shared by Pedro Pascal he/him (@pascalispunk)

[nugatorysheep]

What your favorite SU character says about you but it's just mean as fuck

Steven — How is being a mentally ill, people-pleasing queer going for you? Did your mommy issues and anxiety resolve themselves yet or are you still avoiding therapy?

You either disliked or were neutral about him until he got a neck. You think Future is peak cinema (correct) and can't understand why everyone else hates it. You have a better grasp on this show's characters and themes than most of the people who watched it.

Connie — You were likely the gifted kid in school but a total burn-out now. You either see a lot of yourself in this character (How are those helicopter parents of yours doing? Have you gone no-contact yet?) or you're a normie and boring to sandbox with. Probably both.

You've got a lot of Feelings™️about her and if people don't agree it causes Problems™️. In case no one has told you yet, stop caring what other people think. Your constant virtue signaling to appeal to other normies is a crutch that's just holding you back. It's okay to have fun!!

Stevonnie — You want to fuck this character, though you'd never say that out loud. You like Steven and Connie; maybe you like one more than the other, but you like both at least a little. If you're using them for shipping you're the only person in the entire fandom doing whatever hyper-specific ship you've latched onto.

Rose and or Pink — You really suck as a person! Or you used to suck but you've gotten a lot better and we stan! If you're the former you almost certainly have terrible takes on this show (but not in the way people might think), sorry, I don’t make the rules. Either way, you gotta stop finding ways to bring her back, dawg. She's gone.

Greg — You're a man (positive) and gay as hell. Gentleman on the streets and a fucking freak in the sheets. We stan. Pop off king <3

Garnet — If you headcanon her as acespec she is not actually your favorite, Ruby and Sapphire are your favorite, but you like them both equally so you just say you like Garnet. If you headcanon her as anything else you're definitely shipping her with one of the other gems, probably Pearl or Jasper.

Amethyst — Super chill person. Would be in most people's dream blunt rotation. You're a live and let live kinda guy and I respect that, but you also have no hills you'd die on so you're not the first person anyone goes to if they need serious support. You can get away with misinterpreting this character (on purpose or accidentally) because it's hard to say things about her that most people won't just shrug at and go "yeah that sounds right I guess"

Pearl — You're annoying as hell. You see yourself in this character and that's not a good thing. Your social media presence gives off the same energy as every white woman's Instagram profile. If being a victim was a contest you'd take home the gold.

You think everyone is out to get you. They're not.

You think you're being persecuted. You're not.

Most people who see you from a distance and don't know better think you're alright, so you're probably pretty well-liked in public. The only people you will get along with in close quarters are all walking mean lesbian stereotypes.

Peridot — You're annoying as hell for a different reason. You see yourself in this character too and that is a terrible, terrible thing.

She's your pfp on every website and app that will allow it. Your lifeblood is this fucking character and e v e r y o n e will know it. You're weirdly possessive of her and the hyper specific headcanons you made for her (even if you don't say that) despite every grass-fearing autistic person on the internet projecting onto her, so ironically you don't like other Peridot fans, which always ends up with you sitting alone even on websites with millions of people on them.

90% chance you're a furry, otherkin, therian or think you have DID. You think you're misunderstood, and in some ways you are, but the reality is most people don't speak dog and don't have the time or energy to learn. You need to go outside and learn to speak cat whether you want to or not

Lapis — You don't like Peridot fans or kinnies, which is weirdly in-character. You're the biggest hater but you don't hide it and I can respect that. You think Lapis is a victim, but you're only half right. You would probably fall for propaganda if it was dressed up fancy enough.

Jasper — You want to fuck this character, full stop. There's a 50/50 chance you're chill af or the most insufferable person on the planet. If you're the former you're friends with a lot of people. You float easily from one group to another, but a jack of all trades is a master of none, and you're no one's first pick if they're looking for someone close. You probably hate Lapis and her fans but you should really just let that shit go ngl

Spinel — You need therapy (derogatory) and you're making that everyone else's problem. Despite the clown aesthetic you're not very funny to be around and you should get a better sense of humor. You project onto this character way too hard and it shows in your fandom habits and headcanons, but most of the time that's fine

Like Spinel, you're a little two-faced. Some people pick up on that right away and some don't. The people who do hold you at arms length until you make it clear which clown you'd rather be. You hate it when people ship Spinel with any character besides your favorite pairing, but you'll never say that out loud unless it's a ship the people you're talking to don't like.

Blue Diamond — You're a man (derogatory) or a minor who doesn't actually understand anything about this character yet, and would immediately fall for any and all forms of propaganda

Yellow Diamond — If you think she is wearing a helmet you're a man (derogatory) and you expected things out of SU that were never gonna happen. If you think it's just hair you have a much better grasp on this character than 90% percent of SU's fandom and I'm platonically kissing you on the mouth.

White Diamond — You're a man (derogatory) or an incredibly based and sexy queer.

The Zircons — You like Ace Attorney, or would like it if you haven't played it yet. You're making them kiss sloppy style. UwU

Lars — You probably didn't like him until after he died. You will defend this boy with your fucking life. Also you should just…. go watch Star Trek if you haven't. Seriously what are you doing—

Sadie — You're an oddball. Very lax though. You have complicated feelings about Shep

Peedee — You're a little quirky, a little freaky, but you're too scared to just say that. You desperately need some fun in your life, but the people around you make that difficult. Eventually you'll find the folks that are worth hanging around. See you on the flip side :)

Ronaldo — You're the type of person this character is based on and you take it in stride. If you're shipping him with Lars, you're the only person who's opinion on this character matters.

Kevin — I dunno who hurt you but you have a terrible taste in men. You only have fun in bed if it involves a damn near human rights violation

Mayor Dewey — You're normalbirb

Any other townie — This is a trick question! No one has these as their favorite lmao

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; “the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“It usually involves taking care of the sub for a little while–like if they need to recover or if the Dom needs something to calm themselves down doing, for example–but there’s other ways and reasons to do it,” Tim says, stroking his hair just a little bit more carefully as Kon once again tries and fails to figure out what the fuck he’s feeling right now. “That’s just what most people think of first when it comes up. Supposed to just make it easier for everyone to come up and level out, basically.” 

Tim’s been petting him all this time, Kon realizes, biting the inside of his lip again. 

And then he realizes–Tim’s also been the only one talking to him about this. Like, the “polite intel-collecting/light interrogation” kind of talking, but definitely only Tim doing it. So, like–Tim thinks this is something to be careful about talking about, and apparently so does Bernard. 

. . . weird, Kon thinks, ducking his head just enough to hide his mouth against his folded forearms as he bites his lip outright, and doesn’t know how he feels about that either. 

He thinks maybe they’re doing that–“gentle” thing again, though, even though they’re not even actually fucking around right now. Like . . . like just being in bed together at all is reason enough to do it, or something. Like it’s just–like it matters enough to keep doing it either way. 

Kon knows exactly how he feels about that, but that’d be a lot more than just “mortifying” to admit. 

“Um . . . sorry,” he says, half-worrying about what Tim means by needing to calm himself down. The times he’s tried to Dom made him all anxious and nervy and filled his head up with even more useless circling thoughts than usual, so like . . . does that happen to Tim too? It hadn’t seemed like it was, but . . . “Should I be–doing something for you, you mean? Because I can–” 

A flash of stress flickers across Tim’s face, and Kon cuts himself off and feels a little–stupid, maybe, like he’s said something wrong or just messed up something obvious or . . . 

He bites his lip harder and a weird little–reflex, almost, has him glancing towards Bernard for . . . he’s not even sure why, just . . . Bernard would know what Tim needs right now, wouldn’t he? Like–he’d have to, right? 

Bernard’s still just standing by the nightstand and the breakfast tray, but the moment Kon looks at him he gives an easy shrug, scoops up the middle plate, and manages to neatly deposit it in Tim’s lap even as he lays down on his other side, stretched out on his own stomach and propped up on his elbows. Kon feels–something, kind of, and thinks about how that puts them both kinda . . . parallel to each other, kinda. Just . . . mirrored, a little, both lying on either side of Tim where he’s sitting against the headboard. 

That’s . . . kinda something he feels something about, yeah, but it’s another one of those “something”s he can’t seem to really pin down, because everything he thinks it’s making him feel is, like . . . not actually something that makes sense for him to be feeling. 

Kryptonite, he remembers abruptly. Right. So like . . . that. That’s probably . . . why he thinks he’s feeling . . . that kind of thing. Like–how Kara was saying, and all. 

Right? 

“Yes, you should be lying right there and letting Tim fuss over you for a while,” Bernard informs him matter-of-factly, crossing his ankles behind himself and resting his chin in one hand. “He likes doing the fussing. Though personally post-subbing is literally the only time I don’t wanna cuddle, I just wanna eat the fridge and pass the fuck out on the couch, so it’s really always been an unfortunate waste of the opportunity for me and also, like, not Tim’s favorite way to spend a scene’s afterglow either.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, mildly bemused by the idea of passing out on the couch after subbing instead of cuddling up with someone in bed. Like–wanting to pass out on the couch, at least. Like, that is just very much not how he feels after subbing, is all. But, well . . . if that’s all Tim needs from him . . . like, it’s not exactly an imposition or anything. “Seriously? Just . . . the fussing?” 

“Seriously,” Bernard confirms with a nod without bothering to lift his chin from his hand. “He literally always wants to do the fussing. Like he is definitely the ‘needs to calm down’ guy, and also the ‘subtly make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt or upset you when you were too high on endorphins to communicate it’ guy.” 

“Yeah, sounds like Tim,” Kon says, lifting his own head a little more again just to spare Tim a wry look. “‘Shit, that went way too well, lemme get all Bat-paranoia up in here and overanalyze the whole thing’.” 

“Better safe than sorry,” Tim says, looking a little wry himself, and Kon–like, yeah, he’s teasing the guy about it, because when would he not take the opportunity to give Tim shit, but he still definitely feels some shit about the fact that Tim would bother worrying about him like that. Like–the “gentle” thing again, he guesses. It’s just . . . not something he needs, and obviously Tim knows that, because a) invulnerable and b) they’re literally just fucking around for the weekend, it’s not like they’re doing anything serious or whatever, but the fact that Tim’s bothering to do it anyway is just . . . yeah. 

He just–doesn’t have to, is all. He doesn’t have to, but he still is. Still is, and still told his boyfriend to be. 

“You are a total Bat, but fuck if I'm gonna complain about scorin’ some free attention,” Kon tells him with a teasing smirk. Even if “getting attention” wasn’t half the foundation of his core personality, getting Tim’s attention would still be a goddamn treat, any time. Like–it always is, seriously. So yeah, Kon is in no way above indulging in a little extra of it. As far as doing something for Tim, it’s basically the easiest thing the guy could possibly ask for. Normally Kon’d say it was the best thing the guy could possibly ask for, even, but given the radioactive gay space rock currently influencing his tastes and his preferred flavor of his favorite pastime, any current contenders for the “best” thing Tim could possibly ask for would definitely need the other’s dick to get involved again. 

Like. To the fucking hilt levels of involved, specifically. 

Definitely to the fucking hilt. 

“Jesus, that noise is fucking adorable,” Bernard mutters under his breath, which is the only reason Kon notices himself purring again, which–oh. That wasn’t, like . . . on purpose or anything. Generally he tries to avoid any of the “don’t sound entirely human” vocal tics, though admittedly he probably does purr the most. Just, like . . . usually he decides to let himself do it, is all. 

“Vegas party favors don’t do ‘adorable’, man,” he hums around another purr, because . . . well, Bernard seems like he’s kinda into the purring, so it’s not like he’s gotta, like–stop, or whatever. And Tim’s heard him do it before and not gotten weirded-out, so . . . so it’s whatever, yeah. No big deal or anything. 

Anyway, it feels nice to, sometimes. Especially when he feels like this does it feel nice to. 

And, like, extra-especially when Tim’s still petting his hair for it. 

“I think I can literally feel the bed vibrating a little,” Bernard says, looking low-key delighted about it. “Definitely tell me how I earn this level of purring while TTK-cuddling, because that is very much my new goal for this long weekend.” 

“Mmm, s’secret lore, man,” Kon hums, letting his eyes close as he settles in a little heavier against the bed with a pleased little buzzing feeling in his gut and along his skin. “You gotta grind enough hours to level up and earn it.” 

“I will grind on you for all the hours that standard-build human stamina can handle and Konami code your ass if I gotta,” Bernard swears, and Kon laughs into his arms. Why is this dude so funny, Jesus. 

“That sounds kinda fun, what’d that involve?” he muses speculatively. 

“Some very specific and very decisive button-pressing, pretty much,” Bernard says, and Kon laughs again. “Maybe some converter cables and a rumble controller.” 

Kon sniggers. Goddammit, the bastard really is so funny, what the fuck. 

“I think the gay space rock’s done plenty of converting, but if you really wanna plug something in . . .” he hums, making a point of stretching out a bit more against the mattress, and accidentally purrs a little deeper without meaning to. 

“Desperately, yes,” Bernard says, sounding very feeling about it. So like, that’s another nice little bit of flattery. “Hey babe, how long do I have to wait to plug and play with your bestie? Like, ballpark it for us.” 

“Maybe eat breakfast first?” Tim suggests wryly. “I hear the chef makes pretty good waffles.” 

“Honestly they’re pretty mid compared to the cake that’s currently taking up a truly impressive amount of real estate in this bed,” Bernard replies frankly, making a point of reaching across Tim’s legs to grab Kon’s ass and give it a pointedly appreciative jiggle as he says “cake”, and Kon laughs helplessly into his arms. But, like–also tilts his ass up into said hand, obviously. Like, just a little. Bernard’s nice enough to give it an appreciative squeeze in response to that, so Kon figures that’s a win. “On that note, Tim, your bed is just not worthy of this long weekend, you really should upgrade. Like, no rush or anything, just maybe by Valentine’s Day. Your birthday at the latest.” 

At this rate, Kon isn’t gonna manage to stop laughing long enough to eat a single damn waffle.

[fandom-susceptible]

100% agree, but addition: it's not even just that he killed Ibis.

Terry knows exactly what sort of person Claudia is. He's totally fine with letting her kill all sorts of magical creatures for her spells. He even assists her with finding them and takes an interest in how they work. I truly think his reaction to killing Ibis was because he's never killed another elf before, not because he has a moral objection to killing things for power.

Plus, the thing is . . . it goes deeper than that. Claudia was shown being perfectly honest with him about everything from the beginning - to the point that it makes her uncomfortable in Season 7 when Aaravos begins to urge her to lie to him. She's had the plot of eliminating the elves and dragons ever since season 3; that didn't go away after Viren died. She explicitly was trying to get him back so they could then go take revenge on everyone. It's not even about some twisted "defending their kingdom" anymore, she's fully just planning on vengeful genocide.

And Terry's fine with that.

He only balks when it's Aaravos doing it. As long as Claudia was acting of her own volition, he was fine with the murder, with the genocide, with the bloody vengeance she wanted on the world. Not just fine with it, actively supportive of it!

His softer side that everyone focuses on highly distracts from how dark he really is as a person. Legitimately, right up until he finally left her, I was half-convinced he wasn't even real. One of my close friends (who isn't on tumblr) came up with the theory that he's a magical figment of Claudia's imagination given form. Even the "true of heart" plot didn't disprove it to me; he's what remains of her childhood innocence, then. That theory only sort of breaks apart after he leaves her - but then again, the Season 7 "loss of innocence" meta plot was heavy handed, and we've seen with things like Ava and the shadowhawk arrows that plenty of enchantments, once cast, are just cast. The mage doesn't need to actively maintain them.

So I'm still not fully convinced Terry is even a real elf.

If he is, we can't excuse how fucked up he is underneath the nice facade. I have the same problems with him as I had with Claudia in the early seasons; their cuteness and sweetheart surface is distracting people from how truly dark they are.

Claudia was always going to surpass Viren as the villain of this show. We saw early on that Viren is a coward. Viren hesitates. Claudia doesn't. The second Aaravos got access to her instead of Viren, the old man was getting tossed aside like a dirty rag, even before we knew about Leola.

I lowkey think that Terry is a similar character. He seems like a lighthearted character now, especially since that "Zuko here" scene and attempt at a redemption arc, but I think when it comes down to it, his priority is Claudia and making her happy. I don't think he gives a flying fuck what happens to the rest of the world. Why he's so dedicated to her and cares so little about everything else, I don't really know. It could be just pent up resentment for the world that rejected his identity as a man, but he doesn't come across as projecting that particular anger at the entire world, just at his home village somewhere in the Uncharted Forest. Or it could be he has his own ulterior motives and he, like early seasons Claudia, has convinced himself he's true and right and therefore he has no guilt on his conscience, leading to spells perceiving him as having a "true heart". Most adults have something in their past they regret, even if it's small. Maybe Terry just doesn't, until for some reason Aaravos changed the game for him.

I don't know. I don't think I'll ever trust Terrestrius, but it will be interesting to see how the show takes him if Netflix lets us have a third arc.

"Terry is pure of heart, it is what allows him to see the map"

Ibis from the afterlife. A.K.A the guy he murdered:

[ballroomblitzzzz]

So I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, about wicked, because of course it's about wicked.

Specifically Glinda and her relationship to sorcery. (Hold tight this one's gonna be a whole ass essay) I find it interesting that the film really tries to make it clear that she has, not just little power, but none at all.

Because in the book she does have magic! Like there's this great scene where her, Nessa and Elphaba are talking about sorcery and she explodes a sandwich in their faces to prove a point.

This isn't relevant at all I just really like the scene. Point is, book Glinda's magic ain't too shabby. And in the musical (unfortunately I've only seen it once so apologies if I've read this wrong) I kinda saw it as she did have magic, but just didn't really get good at it before act 2. But in the film it's clear she doesn't have any. Like in NOMTW she pushes a pedal to make the bubble instead of using her wand, similar to how the wizard uses mechanics to fake sorcery. So why is it different? I hear you ask.

Well my curious child, I'll come to that in a minute (promise) right NOW I wanna talk about why Glinda wants magic in the first place.

And this is something that's had me stumped for a while, I mean it's not like she needs it. She can easily get whatever she wants from social manipulation, and yet it's still her heart's desire to become a sorceress.

And it's SUCH a big part of her character that couldn't just go around not being able to answer that question now could I?? And guys I think I figured it out.

So she's always been jealous of Elphaba, right? Right. And the thing about Elphaba that she envies, is that she's powerful without having to rely on other people. Glinda doesn't have that. She gets to the top because people like her. She said it herself, 'its not about aptitude it's the way you're viewed'. She knows the way to truly succeed is to make sure that you're liked. And she's very good at that, so she doesn't need sorcery, and YET she wants it. And to me this proves that Glinda hates the reason that she's liked. She wants people to love her for what she can do, not for the shallow persona she presents. She wants to have a power all to herself. She doesn't want to need people. She wants to be the kind of person who hops on a broom and overthrows the government at the drop of a hat (pun intended) but that's not who she is.

Of course she doesn't go with Elphaba. Elphaba can be strong on her own but without the public on her side Glinda is powerless.

And just think it's soooo fucking interesting how Elphaba and Glinda's different kinds of power can be seen as just another metaphor for their sense of self. Because Elphaba has had to trust herself, to have a strong enough identity to know that she's better than what people say. But Glinda's entire identity and self worth are tied to what people think of her, she's only as good as people say.

So of course she doesn't go with her.

But here's where she changes (for good hehe). And of course, it's down to Elphaba. Because Elphaba has always believed that Glinda is powerful outside of other people. And, back to sorcery now because yes that is what I started talking about, it's Elphaba who invites her to sorcery class, it's Elphaba who asks Glinda to come and meet the wizard with her, it's Elphaba who asks her to come with her in defying gravity and (SPOILERS FOR PART TWO!!) its Elphaba who gives her the Grimerie. Because Elphaba has always believed Glinda was strong even when she wasn't.

Glinda always wanted to be a sorceress but it was only Elphaba who had faith that she could do it. And this is what makes Elphaba giving her the Grimerie so symbolic and so, so fucking sad. Because Elphaba's showing her that she's better she thinks, she just going like 'hey, you got this'. And srhstjdyfkvhlvukflyyc. And so the way Glinda's viewed doesn't change at all, but the way she sees herself does, and so don't mind me while I go cry in a corner.

And you know maybe all this was obvious to literally everybody who watched the film and I've just mansplained lesbianism to everyone but I just really needed to write this down because I've been going insane about the power dynamics and I can't shut up about it.

And dude these characters are all so complex I just wanna peel them all like onions, but oh boy does it make my eyes water.

[lu-is-not-ok]

I don't want to interrupt, but your speculation of Hong Lu running away and his family looking for him made me think that, if true, then how important and resourceful Limbus Company is? We have seen several times the almost boundless wealth his family has and the connections that might extend to even one of the big three. To confidently employ a wanted individual when an enormous family is the one looking, you need to have some serious plan to prevent it.

Do you know how one canto opens to another? Just like Canto 3 demonstrated the evil of the nest and in Canto 3.5 and 4, how it affects individuals. And now, if I recall correctly, the golden boughs are being used to tone down the abnormalities at Limbus Company to be manageable for their suppression. What if Hong Lu is actually an abnormality, and binding himself to Dante leveled him enough to not be perceived by his family and anyone they might send after him?

My apologies if you have already discussed this! Have a good day/night! :D

I'm just. Going to ignore the Hong Lu is an abnormality thing because I feel like you're going a little too fast and ending up on some Piles of Asriel's Dust type stuff.

Let's take a step back and think. Because that is a good question!

Here's a pop quiz.

Why is Hong Lu using a fake name?

Sure, there's a part to it that is likely just him trying to ignore his past and live a new life as a fake made up identity. But you know. A fake identity can also help him slip under the radar.

After all. Can we really be sure the higher ups at Limbus Company even recieved truthful information about him?

He is a liar after all. He could have just. Given fake information to the Company, and the only person who would even know would be Faust, the one who is explicitly not allowed to share information about the Sinners.

We might have even been shown a hint towards something like that potentially being the case. Remember this moment from Canto 3?

I don't think this exchange was just to have Hong Lu share an anecdote (it's never Just about that with him after all). I believe what is happening here is that, upon hearing about Limbus Company having backing from many shareholders, Hong Lu is trying to ascertain if the Company has any direct ties to people who would actually recognize him and have a reason to tell on him.

His Family knows H Corp shareholders. Those shareholders would likely really want to be in that Family's good graces and thus would have a reason to sell Hong Lu's location out immediately. So if the higher-ups at the Company he works at are recieving backing from those same shareholders, that would spell some deep fucking trouble for him.

But the fact that he's asking about that in the first place reveals another piece of the puzzle - Hong Lu is sure the Company wouldn't have any direct connection to his Family, only possible connections through secondhand means outside of his control. Something he could only be sure of if the info he gave to the higher ups didn't contain any information that could directly tie him back to the Jias.

After all, you can't really tell on someone who you don't even know is within your ranks, can you?

Plus, who knows. Perhaps the setup for Canto 8 will be that the Company ends up connecting the dots, or his Family finally ends up catching wind of him, and either way LC will be forced to Surrender Hong Lu back to the Jias.

[olderthannetfic]

whiny confession time: I do not care about being morally consistent one way or the other!!! it annoys the shit out of me when people are like “why are you so critical of (adult x minor, incest, abusive etc etc etc) ship when you like (extremely problematic ship in other fandom)??? you’re throwing stones from glass houses!!!” and other such bleating. 

dude, the reason I hate YOUR ship is because IT’S OUT OF CHARACTER you stupid sack of shit!!! my one and only criteria for whether a ship is “okay” is: Would he fucking say or do that? No? He would not? Then it’s shit!!! It’s actually really simple!!! The entire appeal is in the context of the canonical characterization, even if there’s an AU or crossover or dark premise or whatever else in play!! The characters should still feel like the actual characters, not some randos shambling around in their skins!!! otherwise make an OC and stop subjecting the rest of us to your flanderized bullshit!!!

It doesn’t matter if you age one of them up or make it wholesome or whatever other asinine thing you think will make it “morally correct” to me, it is INTELLECTUALLY WRONG not MORALLY WRONG because its FICTION and based off of inherently shallow portrayals of the characters in question. The ages or familial status or what have you have nothing to do with it!!! Stop trying to deflect my criticism of your bad writing and interpretation by saying I’m being moralistic!!! I don’t give a shit about that!!!

MY problematic ships are so blatantly homoerotic in the source material you would have to be willfully blind not to see it. YOUR problematic ships are based off of nothing but shit you made up because you’re trying to force romance where there is none, and obnoxious fanon mischaracterizaton. We Are Not The Same

(should note that I never actually say this to anyone unless they start getting real up my ass, i’m not that much of an asshole, but god i think it all the time. i am that person that your social anxiety is conjuring. i am such a judgmental bitch. i pray for the downfall of people like this. i hope they get a flat tire.)

--

[terrinle]

alright, since this is my post that youre all vaguing about, let me clarify some things:

THIS WAS NOT A POST ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT TRANS MEN SHOULD BE EXCLUDED FROM WOMENS SPACES OR NOT!!!!!!!!

IT WAS A POST ABOUT THE RHETORIC THAT IS USED BY TRANS MEN WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT BEING EXCLUDED FROM WOMENS SPACES!!!!!!!!!!!!

i specifically talked about how i dont think gender segregation is good, HOWEVER. as we do live in a gender segregated world, so being excluded from a womens space as a man can be justified by the fact that you ARE A MAN. so to constantly compare your exclusion for actually being a whole ass man to the exclusion of trans women who are NOT MEN because the language/sentiment that is used (i.e. "you arent allowed in this women's space because you are a man") sounds the same is inappropriate, and it frames trans women as men in some way, just like you, because youre claiming to be excluded for the same reason-- being a man. so it IMPLIES that you think trans women at least COULD BE excluded on the same grounds. its very "well, they let you in and you actually have a penis, so why cant i come in????? im totally harmless!!!!!"

not to mention that people will use this framing that being excluded for being a man is the same as what happens to trans women in order to call trans women TERFs/"TRF"s/radfems for.... simply acknowledging that trans men are men and are not women, so logically speaking, it makes sense to exclude us from womens spaces, especially when compared to them-- because we are not women! and thats not, again, me saying we SHOULD be excluded, just that its fucked up to compare trans women to TERFs for, like, wanting to be in a womens space without men, which you dont need to be a TERF to want lmao. excluding men from womens spaces is not in and of itself actually necessarily bad (i never see any of you goofballs advocating for cis mens inclusion in these spaces when they face issues like domestic violence so i feel like youre probably aware of that, lol) its the exclusion of OTHER WOMEN being justified through transphobic misgendering that is bad about the rhetoric surrounding the "exclusion of men" lmfao.

furthermore: gynecologists offices and getting mammograms are not "womens spaces" lmao. if they were, there would be no male gynecologists or male oncologists who specialize in breast cancer. medical discrimination is an entirely separate thing, because it involves being denied NECESSARY MEDICAL CARE and not ACCESS TO WOMENS SPACES lol. like you arent being kept from accessing gynelogical care because the women there want a womens only safe space and will be scared if they see someone with a beard? its because these procedures are needlessly systemically gendered, which is a different thing lol. beyond that, cis men can and do get breast cancer and have to go to oncologists for it to get treatment, so i dont fucking know where youre getting the idea that access to healthcare for breast cancer is gender restricted? i dunno, maybe its different in other countries besides the usa, but this in particular seems like a crazy claim and ill need some evidence to back it up

but what i mean by "womens spaces" is like. affinity groups for women, womens bathrooms, womens changing rooms, events/festivals/parties/etc for "women and femmes," queer womens spaces, workshops for women, single gender womens colleges, womens sports teams, and yes, domestic violence shelters (WHICH AGAIN: I DO NOT THINK SHOULD BE GENDER SEGREGATED. BUT I AM NOT IN CHARGE OF THAT. SO!!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT LOL. THEY ARE) regardless of whether or not you think its RIGHT for you to be excluded from womens spaces on the basis of your gender being male, constantly arguing that you being excluded for BEING A MAN is the same as a trans woman being excluded for being a man when she is not a man is really fucking gross. its not the same! im sorry!

TL;DR: IM NOT SAYING THAT TRANS MEN SHOULD BE OR SHOULDNT BE EXCLUDED FROM WOMENS SPACES. THAT IS NOT UP TO ME! I AM JUST SAYING THAT YOU SHOULD FIND ANOTHER WAY TO TALK ABOUT IT THAT DOESNT CONSTANTLY COMPARE TRANS WOMEN TO MEN. SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE YOU GUYS HAVE A PATHOLOGICAL NEED TO COMPARE TRANS WOMEN TO MEN OR IMPLY THAT TRANS WOMEN ARE THE SAME AS MEN IN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER AT EVERY POSSIBLE OPPORTUNITY AND ITS REALLY FUCKING WEIRD!!! I PERSONALLY BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO CONVEY YOUR DISPLEASURE WITH YOUR EXCLUSION AND THE NECESSITY OF YOUR INCLUSION THAT DO NOT INVOLVE THIS COMPARISON LOL

(screenshot)

I actually have 'beef' with women's spaces/charities/organisations/shelters which bar trans men, because there's literally no reason to do so and its almost always as a nefarious thing.

[allthingsfern]

Pissed me off, but why?

I often go to Youtube and watch videos about photography because I can always learn something, and in this one case I learned how narrow minded and ageist some photographers can be.

No, I am not gonna share the video that pissed me off, and yes, I realized I was going to watch a video by someone whose YT posts I've never watched to the end because they inevitably say something I find distasteful. Or unfathomable. Or both.

But this time I was curious because they were talking about a photo session with an iconic celebrity who died recently and the title was about the photographer's "greatest photography error" (no that was not the exact title; I am paraphrasing), so I figured I would give the video a chance. Yes, the clickbait-ish title peaked my curiosity.

But fuck, not even 2 minutes in, the photographer said that their iconic subject for the session had been photographed by star photographers when the celebrity was in their "prime." So, it is only reasonable to assume that during the photo session, the photographer approached his iconic subject as an older icon, past their prime.

Goddammit.

And it really made me mad because I thought how I would have been thrilled to have a chance to make photos of that iconic celebrity, who in their later years had a face full of character and history and lines, cracks, sags. To have captured that famous person pensive, angry, questioning, laughing, being goofy. Even as just a study of their face and the way light & dark played on the surfaces of their face.

Wow.

That would have been an incredible photo session for me. That is why I loved photographing my mom and I love photographing my friends and family and strangers of all ages. For me, their prime is occurring, blossoming in front of me and my camera every time I get the privilege of capturing the person they are at any given moment of our photoshoot, while I am blessed with making photos of them being who they are in the moment. Or moments.

No wonder the photographer who pissed me off had a hard time during the photo session and his Iconic subject was never comfortable. Apparently the photographer approached the session already thinking the icon was past their "prime," and it made the celebrity feel insecure. The iconic subject never was made to feel seen as beautiful in that moment of the photo session, they never got to feel that the photographer loved their presence. And yes, I am convinced that the people who let me photograph them, who pose for me, I am convinced they know I have a love for who they are at that moment of posing and that I want to capture my feeling for them in my photos. (Yes, as I've heard other portrait photographers say, I "fall in love" with the people I photograph.) I may not make them look pretty, but I always make them look humanly beautiful, because to me, they are always in their "prime."

And maybe the difference between me and the photographer who pissed me off is that I photograph because I want to, who I want to, and not because its a job. I do not make portraits from a sense of nostalgia and do not try to make portraits that measure up to the work of photography portrait greats. Maybe it helps that I don't have a reputation as a photographer, well, except among friends who like my photos and supportive folks on Tumblr who enjoy and sometimes laud my images. Bot to approach an iconic celebrity who is in their later years and assess them as beyond their "prime?"

Fuck. That just pissed me off.

[alpaca-clouds]

Why did Raphael take little Enver?

Okay. I wanted to talk about this, given that I do write a lot about the grimy gremlin - Gortash that is. Because I have thought a lot about it and the game does not give a clear answer. According to the game Raphael at some point showed up at the Flymm household, in his human appearance, claimed he was a warlock and he saw potential in the boy, offering to buy him for money.

And then he dragged little Enver to hell, where he kept him for an unspecified time, which eventually basically caused most of the plot to happen. Because chances are, that without Enver being in the hell, he would not have learned about the Crown of Karsus, and hence nobody would come up with the rather convoluted plan of putting the Crown onto a fucking elderbrain.

And I think I am pretty sure what Raphael wanted. I think that Raphael for the most part wanted his own personal pet warlock, and he thought he could have it this way.

Notably the game treats Enver as a warlock in regards to his class. Sure, had the game had the arteficer class, maybe he would have been that, but so far I consider Gorts being treated as a warlock as a good indicator. Plus, the Flymm parents were off the opinion that Enver would learn warlockery or something.

See, pretty much all warlock patrons have this one nasty problem: Sure, they can make rules for their little warlock, but they tend to still have their own ideas about stuff. They can usually find ways to lie or trick themselves out of their contracts and what not. I mean, we see it with Mizora and Wyll, and how usually Wyll will try to get out of the contract.

Sure, some people get along splendid with their patrons, but especially when you are a devil, this is not a given. Especially given the fact that part of the entire contract will always be the warlock ending up in hell to fight in the Blood War. So, yeah, there tends to be a lot of trickery going on.

So, come in Raphael: "If I fetch myself a child with a bit of magic potential and raise that child and beat it into submission, before making the child my warlock, I would have my personal pet warlock, who I can then use as a political pawn on the physical plane." I assume he thought it would be pretty easy to raise a human child. Which he undoubtedly found out it was not.

But we know Raphael loves to have his fingers in many pies at once, and I assume his plan was, that he would use Enver as a pawn to throw around as his eyes and ears on the physical plane, so that he could have a spy. Which is also why I assume, he would have beaten a lot of upper class behavior into him.

Now of course, the question is: How far did he get with this plan before he got bored and just left little Enver to his own devices? That is really not clear. Just as we do not know for how long Enver was in the House of Hope as a prisoner. It might have been three or four years or more than ten. We have no clear idea from all I can see.

But yeah, that is what I think was the reason for Raphael to drag that kid to hell.

[bitterbutblue]

TASE WHEN WILL U DO MIYABI????????? PLEASEEEEEEEEE BRO PLEASE I BEG YOUUUU

miyabi ?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

IM SO SORRY FOR DYING OMF i have hit crash out after crash out after crash out but guys can u tell i havent played passt like. like the fucking sons of calydon because i have no idea what any charcater is liek BUT HERE IS A MIYABI FIC BECAUSE I LOVE HER DESIGN

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

There is a reason why one is 'falling in love'. To fall is to be in an uncontrolled state where you barely understand the actions around you, let alone your own actions. When you fall for someone, you don't process what you're doing, nor do you process what exactly it is you are feeling. All you can really take note of is that she stands there, barely even a smile on her face and you are going insane. She looks beautiful in all her glory, she stands doing nothing yet to you it is the entire world and more and you just wished she'd look at you. Things are fine between you two, or so you tell yourself. You keep your laughter, your slight banter, but you still notice the way the corner of her eyes crinkle slightly when she finds your joke amusing but doesn't want to give you the satisfaction. You notice the little ear twitches whenever someone is annoying her slightly, and you notice how she treats everything with too much care in the world and that has you feeling ways you never thought you could.

It's maddening because you are watching yourself from afar, losing control and slipping into this state where all you want is for them to call you yours, and she will never look at you the same way. You can never do anything to make her look at you that way without ruining what is already perfect to her- the perfect dynamic. It's five in the morning and you can only stare at your phone at the text that has been on delivered since you got off work and you swallow. You mean something to her that is less than what she means to you. To you, she is a star, a star in the night that is dying but you believe will still shine bright even after the universe eventually collapses into itself. To her, you are a colleague.

The worst part is knowing what could have been, what could have been if she had just decided to look at you at a specific time during a specific day. Some nights you have dreams where she confesses her love and you think of the theory that dreams are parallel worlds and how you wished that wasn't true because if it was, what are you doing wrong in this world where she won't love you back? It hurts to think, it hurts to love and it hurts to breathe now in her proximity but you will still fight alongside her.

"And is that all?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"And we're sending Miyabi with her again, correct?"

"They do the best together, it's only rational to send them together."

Yanagi pushes her glasses up slightly, scanning the room before her eyes land on your zoned-out form. She lets out a tsk in disappointment.

"Are you even listening?"

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement.

"Yes."

The response is quiet, a bit too dull for Yanagi's liking given your usually more upbeat personality. She huffs softly, not wanting to open that can of worms this early in the morning. She makes a mental note to buy you a warm drink later, maybe that would cheer you up a bit. Miyabi's eyes dart towards your figure, her calculating glare softens always around you but not in the way you wanted. You want to exit the room because it is getting too suffocating to have all the attention on you now.

"I'll be there, don't worry."

She finds you already standing in the rain, a battle axe in hand as you gaze upon the city that slowly falls into ruins each day. Miyabi can't quite decipher the look in your eyes as you scan the remains of the hollows, ethereals that creak and moan out of a mind that can now only comprehend destruction and corruption beyond imagination. She sees them as targets, you've always seen them as lives.

"Are you okay?"

"Why do we do this?"

Your voice is strangely soft, given the steely gaze in your eyes. Something about the sight of you standing in the rain, sopping wet hair laid flat against your forehead as you run a hand through your hair to push it out of your eyes, a pained look that she can't understand.

"Do what?"

"Fight."

That throws her off. She knows why she fights- she knows her drive. To stop this corruption from spreading, to stop more people from having to turn into these monsters that stand before them or have these monsters hurt more people. It's simple. So why are you asking her this?

"You know why."

She watches you clench your jaw, the tensing of the muscle is a small move but she still catches it and she feels her heart stutter for a moment as you let out a shaky sigh.

"Why do you pick me for all your missions?"

Miyabi raises an eyebrow.

"You know why."

She doesn't say anything as you pick up your axe, just keeping her gaze on your face as you reel your arm back, ready to fight.

"Let's finish this last one, Hoshimi Miyabi."

The full name sends a chill down her spine that she hasn't felt in a while- the same chill when she first encountered an ethereal, or when she first came hand in hand with death and met its followers. It's a foreign feeling, unwelcome. She tries to shrug it off but watching as you leap through the air, swinging a weapon of destruction through the masses like it's nothing, she feels a pang of uncertainty. Your movements are second nature to her, having fought by your side for years now. Yet this time it feels foreign, it feels different. It feels out of sync, and she feels... distant. Your moves are erratic, they follow no pattern and she recognises none of the timings. Everything just feels off. She feels out of place for the first time fighting alongside you.

Each swing and thud, each dodge and parry only amplifies the feeling of her gaze on you and you are going mad. To fall in love is romanticised, to be loved is often yearned for. To have to go through a one-sided love is some pain you never thought could hurt so bad and to know that she has an eye on you makes it worse because how can someone be so close to being everything you ever wanted but also be so distant at the same time? In the heat of the moment, you get distracted. A moment of zoning out, and a harsh thud is delivered to your chest, knocking you off your feet and sending you tumbling to the ground, searing pain against your sides as you roll across the gravelled path to a halt. Grunting, you try to force yourself up, hand shakily reaching out to take your axe but you hear a roar.

"ENOUGH."

Her voice is cracking from how loud she shouts at you from across the field, and you finally let the axe go. You don't even notice that your vision has gone blurry and that you can feel your lungs burning from the inside out as Miyabi rushes to your side.

"Seriously, what is going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me!"

Her voice trembles in a way you've never heard before and you refuse to look up at her.

"Just keep going, Miyabi, we're almost done." You mumble, pushing yourself up to your feet, but she gently pushes you down once more, leaving you sitting on the ground.

"You are in no place to fight right now."

Swallowing, you dig your fingers into the gravel beneath your palms, the small rocks digging into your skin and between your fingernails as you huff out softly. The rain was pouring now, you can barely see five feet ahead of you but you still sense her next to you. She is next to you, she is worried for you. But not in the way you want her to be.

"I can fight."

"Not now."

"You need me to carry on." You finally look up at her, and you really wished you hadn't because the look in her eyes has you wanting to scream into a void with no voice.

The look- it's worry. It's worry and you don't want her to worry for you because wouldn't it be so much easier if she just didn't care for you? You love her because she still cares for you. You love her because together you two can fight as one unit. You love her, you love her and she only cares for you because you are essential to her as a unit.

You are daylight, Miyabi, and I am the night that follows. We need each other to act as one, but we will never be together, truly side by side.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hey! I have been a longtime fan of SHOH and I have recently begun writing my own fantasy story. How do you make your vast and rich cast of characters interact with each other in such a natural and consistent manner? I am really inspired by the way you fleshed out relationship dynamics for so many characters and would love to get some insight into that process.

Ah, thanks for the question, and thank you so much for your long support of ShoH, I really appreciate it! 💖

And hmm, this is a great question! I'm a bit chagrined to say that, at this point, I don't really think about it in the moment or apply a particular conscious methodology when it comes to writing the characters' interactions with each other: most of their dialogue and dynamics spring up naturally and seem to be dictated by the characters themselves, as well as my own long experience and familiarity with them. So in a way, it's sort of a "practice + patience = natural results" process! I start with their individual core personalities and then see how such characteristics might naturally react to each other: someone who's a bit more prickly and fiercely independent and assertive like Ayla might have friction with an authority figure as disciplined and military-minded as Blade, or would have more conflict with other members of her team due to her own natural wariness and past, but it also makes sense that she'd be softer around kind, non-threatening people like Shery or someone as naturally disarming and full of easy camaraderie like Trouble. Sometimes they do surprise me, though! But basically I carve out their most distinct personality traits, or what would be most apparent about them to strangers at a glance--(Chase: loose, playful, enigmatic, chaotic, mischievous, informal. Riel: rigid, highly intelligent, ruthless, orderly, neurotic, sophisticated)--and then I throw them together into different scenarios and observe how they might react to each other. Natural compatibilities or dynamics will start to form from there!

In my earliest days as a writer, one thing that I found really useful was switching up the format when writing and fleshing out the characters. Sometimes it's too much work to try and think of a Plot Reason why they're on a mission together or what other things are happening, like a whole short story about a mystery they're solving or whatever, and organically try to dig into their dynamic that way. If I really wanted to focus on exploring their relationship to each other, I would literally write either short screenplay vignettes as they came to me, devoid of any actual plot (like the two characters in a garden, eating lunch together), or interview/Q&A transcripts, LOL. This was a really good way of developing fast, off-the-cuff dialogue between the characters in a way that can deepen your understanding of their relationship. Like imagine they're just trapped in a room and some journalist or invisible speaker is plying them with questions. Sort of like how I imagine the Shepherds' Corner, where a panel of the characters are being polled for different questions!

(This is stirring up ancient memories for me, actually. In the LiveJournal days of like 2005, there would be tons of those OC number replacement questionnaires floating around, where there'd be 3-5 slots at the top; you'd assign each of your characters a number, and then the questionnaire would proceed to ask them questions, like so:

Blade

Briony

Trouble

Character #3, how much do you weigh?

Trouble: "Oh, uh... I actually have no idea. Nobody ever weighs me except the Healers during my annual exams, and I'm usually in a rush to get out of there as soon as I can, so I never asked..."

Blade: [disbelieving snort] "It's sure to be a lot. You eat for three."

Trouble: "Hey, fuck you?"

Briony: "You do eat a lot, Trouble..."

Maybe it seems a bit silly, but you can see how doing enough of these could allow certain character dynamics to emerge and become clearer: Blade and Trouble have a relationship where they take the piss out of each other, Briony is a more moderating influence but is still honest in a group setting (whereas she might be more diplomatic one-on-one LOL), and etc...)

Making character webs like this might also prove helpful!

Finally, one last thing to note is the form and medium that you're writing in. A rule that was often pushed in creative writing classes is that readers of short stories tend to be extremely economical with their time; the medium is already so pared down that readers will immediately notice fluff or filler, which is great for character and relationship-building but not so great for things like short stories, where every word and sentence has to count (or readers will wonder what's the point of including them). (<- Obviously, fanfiction adheres to different principles.) Conventional novels have much more leeway, but there are certainly still some constrictions; scenes often serve to either further the main plot, provide plot exposition or worldbuilding to a reader, progress a character's individual development, or provide momentum to some aspect of their relationship to others. So you don't often see stuff like Halek's witch's bane incident crop up in novels, unless it's something that comes back around in some way later. (Obviously this also varies with the novel and the genre.)

Part of the reason why I chose interactive fiction is because its conventions inherently allow more freedom with this kind of thing; you can eavesdrop on your companions drinking together, or play a card game with them, or have input as they argue about Caine's education or the state of current politics or what have you, because games are immersive and players are already primed to expect that kind of immersion, and so it's very easy to showcase the characters' interactions with each other. You don't have to worry about justifying the purpose of an interaction or a scene in relation to the overall story, especially because readers can often skip and ignore these interactions altogether. This isn't me trying to steer anyone towards a specific medium, btw: I'm just saying I have an inherently easier time showcasing these character dynamics and relationships because I'm making a game with them, whereas it might be harder to have an organic reason for Briony, Ayla, and Tallys to get drunk and start beating the shit out of some farmers in a tavern and then have a sleepover where they talk about their feelings in a typical novel? Hopefully that makes sense! The short of it is, it's absolutely possible to have the same kind of character beats and relationship-building in a novel, but if mine seem particularly rich and immersive, it's also because the genre I'm working in lends itself to that and provides a lot of opportunities!

Anyway, hopefully something in there was helpful! Thanks again for the question, and good luck with your own writing, that's so exciting! 🌟

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "the one where Kon's soulmark is fake". I remembered that, like, SEVERAL of my older WIPs are just a hot mess at the starts of their tags and also realized that I had posted like, very little coherently-connected parts of specifically this one's beginning, for some reason? Despite the fact that I love hurting and being hurt?? Somehow???? TERRIBLE oversight on my part, gang, sorry, here y'all go, enjoyyyyy~ 💙 (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon is sort of fucked-up in a lot of ways, but he didn't deliberately get the tattoo. Like–he's not that fucked-up. Hell, even Black Zero wasn't that fucked-up. 

Black Zero's Westfield didn't even give him the tattoo, actually, so maybe that's part of why they had a better relationship than Kon did with his version of the guy. Kon would also have hated the asshole a lot less if not for the tattoo, probably. 

But his Westfield had made damn sure to give it to him.

Kon doesn't remember much before he got broken out of the cloning tube, but he does remember getting the tattoo. It'd taken a really long time, and it'd been the first time he'd ever felt pain. So like, it'd made an impression. 

He hadn't even known what it was for, then. Hadn't even known what it was supposed to be. A brand? A method of identification? Some kind of weird serial number analogue? 

Not so much, it'd turned out. 

Superman's soulmark is a gorgeous Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, bold and bright and beautiful. It looks like the rising truth and the clarity of a new beginning and the very literal physical manifestation of hope. 

And Kon's tattoo looks exactly like it. 

Except for the part where it's obviously just a tattoo, of course. 

Tattoos don't pass for soulmarks, after all, which is the only reason Kon has the damn thing to begin with. Westfield hadn't wanted him to make the mistake of thinking that he was a real person, or to make the mistake of thinking that anyone was ever going to give a fuck about him as the person that he was. He was a clone, an experiment, a weapon, a thing. He didn't have a soul or a soulmate. Didn't have a mark. 

He got over that. Like, it sucks? It really sucks. And he still hates it. But he'd gotten over it. 

Or he'd thought he had, until he'd found out who Superman's soulmate was. 

"What?" Kon says, staring blankly. 

"Dad's my soulmate," Jon repeats, pointing at the Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, brightly illuminated by the noontime sun as they stand on the dock at the edge of a little pond on the outskirts of Smallville. "Why, who's yours? Or don't you know yet? Like, has it not come in?" 

"Clones don't get soulmarks," Kon says, wanting very, very badly to just throw up and die. 

"Huh?" Jon says, looking actually surprised. Kon continues to want to throw up and die. Or maybe bury himself in magma in the center of the planet and stay there 'til he suffocates. "But I thought everybody got soulmarks!" 

"Naw," Kon says instead of fuck you, because the kid's ten and doesn't deserve that. 

"Why not?" Jon asks, because again, he's ten. Ten and apparently as emotionally intelligent as a pudding cup, but whatever. Not like Kon's never had this conversation before. 

Never with Clark's kid who is apparently so much his kid as to be his literal fucking soulmate, which no one ever thought to mention to the stupid shitty clone in the past like four months since Clark had finally admitted to the secret identity that Kon had long since figured out thanks to Hypertime bullshit, but whatever. He only even officially met Jon a couple months ago. 

Probably they all figured it just wasn't his business, he guesses. 

Which–it's not, really. It's not his business. It never has been. 

It's not. 

"I mean, I'm sentient or whatever, but I'm manufactured," Kon tells the kid with a shrug. "Therefore no soul, therefore no soulmate, therefore no soulmark. That's all." 

"You don't have a soul?" Jon asks in bewilderment. 

"Naw," Kon says again, with another shrug. "So like, we gonna swim or what?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jon says, still looking bewildered. 

So they swim. 

Kon, obviously, doesn't take his shirt off for it. 

Jon, mercifully, doesn't ask why. 

It's fun, aside from being the worst afternoon of Kon's life. They fuck around for a couple hours, then fly back to the farm after and mostly dry off on the way, and Clark comes out to meet–well, not them, obviously, but Jon. Jon lights up at the sight of him and throws himself straight into his arms like he's never once had to question whether or not Clark would ever want him there, and Clark smiles down at him like he's the most important person in the world. 

Kon should just count himself lucky that Clark trusts him enough to leave him alone with his kid for more than thirty seconds and be grateful. 

What Kon actually is, of course, is jealous and angry and fucking heartbroken. 

Jon is ten. Kon was manufactured two years ago. Clark had a real kid long before Kon was even a theoretical spark in a scientist's eye. 

And Jon had Clark the whole time Superboy was just desperately hoping that Superman would decide he was worth his attention. Worth the "S". Worth . . . 

When Clark had offered him a name from his family–specifically a name from an adopted member of his family–Kon had been . . . stupid, a little, and thought that it might've been, like . . . another step. Like he'd hoped that Superman even letting his weird stupid clone wear the "S" to begin with might've been.  

He hadn't been a complete idiot or anything. He'd known Clark would never, like–want to keep him around or have him too close or anything. He'd just thought that maybe he'd . . . that someday he might've . . . 

Kon isn't a real person. Like–obviously he's not. It isn't subtle. Hell, he'd have known it even if Westfield hadn't bothered tattooing him with a copy of Clark's mark. And really, he guesses he should be grateful Westfield didn't tattoo his own soulmark on him, whatever it was. 

Just, like, of course he's not Clark's . . . family, or whatever. Of course he's just like that one weird kid from down the street that somebody occasionally invites over out of pity who only learns the family secrets by accident or through osmosis and isn't actually kept in the loop or anything. Kon knows that. 

But watching Jon beam up at his dad and Clark smile down at his son is still making him want to curl up and die right here and now. 

Kon does kind of wonder what it's like to be, like . . . loved, or whatever. 

Everybody always makes it sound really nice. 

"Dinner's about ready," Clark says. "You two mind setting the table?" 

"Sorry, I gotta get going," Kon says instead of admitting he has no idea how to set a fucking table, especially not to whatever Martha Kent's standards are. Cadmus did not actually see fit to educate him on typical household chores and he has very rarely ever sat down at any semblance of a normal family dinner. Like, in Hawaii they all just ate wherever and not even all together half the time, and Cadmus has a cafeteria, and Young Justice just dumps a pile of junk food or takeout on the nearest unoccupied surface and they all just go to town on it like the weird gaggle of semi-superpowered and usually-ravenous teenagers that they are. 

He could look it up on his phone, and he probably will later, but there's no way he's gonna run the risk of getting caught looking it up on his phone. Like–no. Never, thanks. Miss him with that particular little bit of "further proof of being a fake person" humiliation. 

So it's . . . whatever, he guesses. 

"Well, that's alright, we'll just have to catch you another time," Clark says with a polite smile that looks nothing like the one he was just wearing for Jon, and doesn't even fake like he's disappointed or like he's gonna miss him. Because like . . . why would he, after all? 

Kon misses him all the time, but Kon's the pathetic counterfeit of a person with a copy of said person's soulmark tattooed on him. 

"Yeah, sure," Kon says, thinking longingly of suffocating in the center of the planet. 

Sometimes he thinks about what's gonna happen when he finally gets his dumb ass killed and whoever, like, autopsies or embalms him or whatever sees the tattoo. Thinks about what they're gonna think, if they . . . 

Superman's soulmark isn't a secret or anything. Clark's gotten smashed around too often for the suit to have kept it covered all this time. So like, if someone ever saw the tattoo on Kon's chest and didn't know that Cadmus put it there . . . 

Like . . . well. The natural assumption would be that Kon got it on purpose, obviously. That Kon was actually, like, that fucking pathetic and disturbed of a person. 

He never wants anyone to see it. Never wants anyone to know. Never . . . just never. None of it. Ever. 

And Clark will never smile at him like he smiles at Jon, so maybe Clark will just never know about the tattoo either. Maybe that's a thing that Kon can manage. 

He's managed it so far, at least. 

Kon goes back to Cadmus and buries himself in his eternally unmade bed in his cramped little disaster of a room and desperately tries to not be the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He definitely fails at not being the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He cries about it for a little bit, like that's something he even has the fucking right to do, and tries so fucking hard to forget how Jon's very real soulmark had looked when he'd stripped his shirt off and bared it so unselfconsciously. Not even deliberately or proudly–just as a simple, inalienable fact. A thing that he knew. A thing he just had. 

Although Kon wouldn't even care about the stupid goddamn mark, if Clark would ever look at him even a little bit like the way he looks at Jon. 

He tries not to think about the way Clark would actually look at him, if he ever found out that Cadmus had tattooed his fucking kid's mark on him. 

Kon's never let himself think too much about Clark's mark, on account of not wanting to torment himself that bad. He'd just vaguely assumed that it was Lois at some point and then just shoved said assumption in a box and drowned it in concrete and made sure to never, ever take his shirt off in front of anyone else or any possible cameras or spy equipment or anything similar. Ever. 

He should've known it wasn't Lois. It's a Kryptonian sunrise. Why would it be Lois? 

If it were Lois, though, Kon wouldn't care this much. If it were Lois, it'd be a romantic mark, and Lois is straight-up gorgeous and a total fucking badass, yeah, but Kon doesn't, like, want her or anything. There's nothing to be jealous of there. 

So of course it's not Lois. Of course it's not romantic. 

It's Jon, and on top of that it's a mark that only actual Kryptonians would ever share. 

It's Clark's real kid. The one he had long before Kon was even a single strand of stolen DNA or a cell in a cloning tube or even a scribbled theoretical on a whiteboard or in somebody's notes. 

The one he actually wants. 

Not for the first time, Kon wishes that prick Westfield weren't too dead to punch. 

And while he's wishing for completely impossible shit that’s never gonna happen, he wishes he could've been able to stay in Smallville for that stupid dinner without fucking embarrassing himself, too.