#but at the same time you want words to be binary only? how does that make sense

[bunnyluvx]

first kisses with overwatch characters! ♡

featuring: reinhardt, venture, mercy & brigitte x gn!reader. (all separate)

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content.

tags: fluff | first kisses | holiday themes in reinhardt's section | canon non-binary character | neurodivergent! venture | pebbling | artist!reader | poet!reader | kind of rough kissing w/ brigitte but it's not suggestive/nsfw | second pov | no y/n use

a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i have officially hit over 100 posts and thank you to everyone and anyone who has interacted with my content. thank you to my loved ones who have shown support through the time that i have had this blog, it truly means the world. happy holidays to all who are celebrating around this time of year, and have a good day if you're not!! enjoy some fluff!

date started: 4:15PM, december 12th, 2024.

date finished: 5:03PM. december 21st, 2024.

divider credit: hearts by @isisjupiter, support by @cafekitsune

wc: 2k | ao3

reinhardt ♡

the two of you have known each other for many years. you were in the crusaders together, and fought alongside one another for as long as you could remember. what used to be a crush turned into a deep-set yearning the more time passed by. you swear that no one you have never ached for someone the way that you ached for him, and he could say the same about you. the difference between the two of you is that he was always more vocal about his affections. you are the type of person who shows your love through actions instead of words, and while reinhardt has never hesitated to show you that he adores you, he was far more outspoken about it than you were. there were many times where he was boasting about how wonderful you are, the way that you would dote on him and just how lovely you are. you would get embarrassed and try to quiet him, which only made him laugh and become louder. you're a pair of adorable fools.

when reinhardt mentioned meeting his family for the first time, you were nervous. you knew that the lindholms were people that reinhardt adored, and that there were a lot of them, so you were very intimidated. you wanted to make a good impression and do right by reinhardt, but you had never let him down before. you were very quickly accepted into the lindholm family, and you came the love them just as much as reinhardt does. family is something that reinhardt holds close to his heart, so seeing you get along so well with everyone set into stone that you were the person that he wanted to be with.

it was the holiday season, and you were invited to spend it with the lindholms once again. the moon was lounging in the sky, the stars by its side when you and reinhardt were enacting a story for the children. of course, reinhardt was the knight come to save the day, and you were his royal in distress. you collaborated in narration with him while he battled pillows and stuffed animals, pretending that they were ferocious beasts that kept him from you. he fiercely defeated every enemy that blocked his path with a plastic sword, and when he finally reached you, you laid your hand over your heart and fell into his arms. he spun you around while holding you bridal style, laughter from all parties singing into the air. finally, the journey had come to an end, and the large man dipped you down and asked, "i don't suppose that you have a reward for me, your highness?"

you knew exactly what he meant, and you shook your head playfully at his antics. "but of course i do." you said, then turned to the children, "but should i?"

the tiny audience screeched for you to kiss him. you couldn't possibly deny them, so you leaned in and rewarded your diligent hero with a kiss. there was absolutely no hesitation from reinhardt, returning your gesture like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. his lips were dry, but he was ever so warm. the kids lost it and all began squealing and yelling excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, strong arms pulling you closer to him as he slightly rose from the dip. you both agree that you would have loved to become official much sooner, but that moment was perfect. after all of the longing, there could be no moment more fitting for you to your devotion to each other.

venture ♡

i feel like venture gets really nervous when it comes to you. they don't find themself feeling so strongly about just anyone, so when they realized that they were developing feelings for you, they didn't really know what to do about it. you felt similarly, always tripping over your words when talking to them, laughing a little too hard at one of their jokes or taking note of every detail that you could retain about their interests. neither of you made any moves that were obvious to yourselves, but everyone around you was in agony.

venture's well-known way of showing affection to their loved ones is through pebbling. they'll find something that they think someone will like, and rush to give it to them. some of the overwatch team know this about venture and find it super endearing when they are on the receiving end of their gift-giving, but when they all noticed that you became venture's favorite person to gift to, they started to become suspicious. you returned their generosity by getting them any and everything that you could find that took to their interests, and they were always over the moon about it. they would brag to other members of overwatch about what you got them and talk for hours about it. neither of you are very subtle when it comes to your feelings, so they all figured out pretty quickly that the two of you were into each other and just never said anything.

you had been working on something for a long time, and when you finally finished it, you knew that you had to give it to venture as soon as humanly possible. you were hanging out in their room when you showed them a statue that you hand-carved of the two of you, and to say that venture was excited would be an understatement. they marveled at your creation, gently cradling it in their hands and admiring all of the little details that you added. they talked about the material that you used and gushed before setting the statue aside, opening their arms and blurting out, "I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD!!!!"

upon realizing what they said, the archaeologist slammed both of their hands over their mouth with wide eyes. they started rambling apologies and you were just as surprised, cheeks growing hot on your face. you tried to console them before taking their hands in your own and telling them, "i want you to kiss me."

surprise spreads across their face, though it's quickly replaced by excitement. their eyes sparkle and they smile widely before wrapping their arms around your neck and kissing you. their lips were soft, a little chapped but you didn't mind, and their kiss was ever so tender. you felt so lucky that of all people, you are the person that they feel safe with. and everyday, they thank their lucky stars that you stand at their side through every adventure.

mercy ♡

poetry has always been the best way that you express your feelings. before becoming official with mercy, you were always telling her that she was the most beautiful, loving, unique soul that you had ever met. not to say that you didn't show your affections through your actions too, as mercy is the type of person who doesn't just want to hear things, she wants you to show it. and you did. time and time again, you helped mercy clean up after a hard fought battle, went out for coffee with her and listened to her when she needed you to. you had proven to mercy that you were serious about your feelings for her, you just like to express it through words.

so, when you finally decided that you wanted to make things official with her, you wrote her a poem. you spent a long time working on it, revising and sometimes even starting something completely new. after everything that the two of you had been through together, and because of how important she is to you, you wanted it to be perfect.

the night that you read it to her, she was smitten. you had become one of the most important people in her life, and hearing you express your deepest, truest feelings to her solidified it in her head that you are the person she wanted. your performance was exquisite, albeit a little dramatic due to your theatric nature, but that's just one more thing that she loved about you. she applauded once you were finished and chuckled, standing before approaching you and holding your hands. "ever the charmer, you are." she muses lightheartedly.

you chuckled and placed a hand on her hip. "am i charming enough for a kiss?" you asked, partially teasing and really not at the same time.

the woman chuckles and taunts, "just charming enough."

her lips felt like magic as they connected to yours. both of your arms come around her to encase her in an embrace, pulling her close to your body as you return her affection. her hands rested on your chest and she gratefully kept against you. you hadn't become official sooner because mercy wanted to focus on her career in overwatch, but the closer that you grew, the more that you showed her that you will always have her back. you came to her when she needed you most, and she always did the same for you. she believes that with you by her side, the chances of ending this war are far greater than none.

brigitte ♡

i imagine that brigitte is the type of person who is very private about her love life, due to one of her interactions with tracer. tracer asks if she's seeing anyone, and brigitte says that she'll tell her later. with that being said, i think romance is a personal experience for her, so she doesn't talk too openly about it. therefore, when you began to grow romantically involved with brigitte, she told you that she didn't want it to be too public. you both agreed to only keep it to you and a few of your close loved ones, and you were alright with this arrangement. so long as brigitte is comfortable, you are too.

this was your dynamic for awhile. around others, all interactions you shared were purely platonic, but when you were alone, you were able to flirt, snuggle and leave lingering touches to your hearts content. it was difficult sometimes, but in the end, it was always worth it to have time with her later on. many nights that you spent together were just sitting around and talking. brigitte has always been an easy person to talk to, and when you are with her, you feel as though you could tell her anything without any judgement. nothing is better than a conversation with her.

it was one of those nights that you shared your first kiss with brigitte. you were talking about the way that your relationship has progressed, and how every day, your feelings for her grew stronger and stronger. she was looking at you like you were her everything, a crooked smile tilting onto her lips. in that moment, no one else existed in her world outside of the two of you. she listened to you talk about how much you adored her, a little pink coming to her cheeks. never has she felt so strongly about anyone, and never has she been so sure that she has wanted something the way that she wants you. while you were rambling, you weren't upfront with what you were trying to say, but you didn't have to. because brigitte knew how you felt. so, she cupped one side of your face and confessed, "i love you too."

you swore that you felt like you were flying the moment that your lips touched. her lips were soft and the pressure was gentle. her hand was warm and rough against your skin, yet cradled you so carefully. so much weight, tension and longing lifted from your shoulders when she finally made her move, and you weren't hesitant to return the gesture. you took her face in both hands and kissed her hard, and her hand came up to hold your face while her lips returned your roughness. you were both finally put out of your misery after so much time spent yearning for each other. you would make your relationship official that night, and slowly became more open about it to everyone in your lives. though, none of this came before brigitte smothered you in all of her kisses and affection.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3

[sparkbirdmusic]

I understand if I'm crossing a boundry but i was wondering how you knew you were non binary? I really like titles and the one given to me feels like it doesnt fit quite right. I understand if you dont respond because thats really personal.

I'm comfortable talking about it!

Part of it is that words like "man" don't feel accurate when applied to me. I used to think that was because of my sexuality, because for so long sexuality was kind of the focal point of queer identities.

Then I did this project for a queer studies class where I studied an online community project called Genderfork. Because Genderfork was a photo-based project, for the creative component of the assignment, me and my group took our own photos playing with gender. For the photos, my AFAB (assigned female at birth) classmates dressed in more masculine-presenting ways, and for some reason I (an AMAB person) found myself doing the same.

(I had always been clean-shaven up to then. Later I had facial hair for a while, and for a while that felt right, but now it feels strange to me and has for several years. idk, we're all in flux!)

As a kid I loved everything "girly," I wore body glitter, I played with dolls, everyone thought I was a girl, I absolutely wanted to be a girl... if I'd grown up with different parents, I'm 95% sure I'd be a trans woman. (And I know it's never too late, but I'm fine with where I've settled. For now! Who knows.) BUT I think I would still have come to the conclusion that gender is a social construct, and ended up nonbinary eventually. I think there's something in me that sees the ambiguity in everything.

Other aspects of my childhood seem like clues to my being nonbinary. I got along well with other kids who weren't gender-typical, especially tomboys. And my favorite stories were ones where girls cut off their hair and pretended to be boys (the Alanna series by Tamora Pierce, The Gentleman Outlaw and Me—Eli by Mary Downing Hahn, Mulan, etc.). I think I related so hard because it felt like what I was doing.

Several years into my relationship with my partner Adam, he started exploring his gender identity and presentation. He dressed very femme for a while, and it led me to confront aspects of my sexuality and my own gender identity. Eventually he settled back into identifying as male and dressing in ways that are more male-coded, though lately that's evolving again. (again, we're all in flux)

Somewhere in there, amidst my obsession with Steven Universe and a nonbinary storyline in the show Transparent, I started seriously questioning my gender identity. Then one day, at a moment when I was actively questioning my gender identity, Adam asked, "Have you ever questioned your gender identity?" And I screamed, "WHAT?!" because his timing was so uncanny.

From there I very quickly started using they/them pronouns. And I knew it was what felt right for me, but I was super nervous about being accepted by other trans people as Trans Enough. I decided to be brave and go to a meeting of a trans group on my college campus. When we went around the circle introducing ourselves, I told them my pronouns were they/them, adding, "That's the first time I've said that to anyone but my partner.”

Afterward, I nervously went up to the group leader (a binary trans woman) and said, "I hope it's okay that I was here." And she looked thoughtful and said, "Hmm. I don't know. I'll ask people and see if they were okay with it."

I went home crying. I'm totally fine now (this was 2017), and I only share this aspect of my coming out as an excuse to say: YOU ARE TRANS ENOUGH. If you don't exclusively identify as the gender you were assigned at birth, you are trans enough. People (especially in trans circles) are thankfully way more familiar with nonbinary as an identity now than they were in 2017, so I pray this doesn't happen as much now as it did then. But if it does (to any nonbinary person out there), please know that Sparkbird says you ARE indeed trans enough to go to the trans group.

Anyway that's a condensed version of my nonbinary story! 💚

[thatfeyboy]

I need to know why it makes people so unreasonably upset to suggest that some dysphoric trans people probably should be considered intersex. Do you just. Hate trans people? Or is it because anything that makes trans physical isn't allowed?

It has been stated many many times that not all trans people have dysphoria, and not all trans people that do experience the same dysphoria. It has been harped on that gender is social and about presentation and isn't binary. Fine. But somehow when I or people like me talk about having physical and immutable dysphoria that doesn't stem from social means it's not ok. When I bring up that yes, some parts of the brain control your hormones and gonads, and yes, some parts recognize what you are and should look like, im treated like a fucking gender critical.

Why is it wrong to say that parts of the brain do in fact qualify as sex related because that's what they are for? If they dont physically square with the binary(naturally, not through intervention) then that person is not binary/intersex in their physical disposition by definition. It's not exactly a hard concept to grasp.

And because I have to, no, most aspects of the brain are not related to our bimodal sex system. There can in fact be gender/sex nuance in certain parts of the brain without claiming male and female type brains exist as a whole. Fear of some shitty crack pot idea should not prevent people from understanding scientific inquiry and research.

Being intersex does not make the trans experience more or less valid/real. But I'm tired of pretending I'm a man for reasons that absolutely don't apply to me. Nothing about my being trans has anything to do with how I want to socially be, aside as an extension of others viewing my body as I wish it to be. If there is really room in the community for all of us, then my saying that some of our experience is different shouldn't be a problem.

EDIT: Thank you for some of your responses. I would like to amend my statement slightly. When I mentioned intersex I was more trying to imply, as I lacked a better word, that it is clear some if not most trans people that experience dysphoria have a physical developmental reason for that, likely epigenetic, genetic, and pre natal conditions. This type of sense is in most people, including cis people, hence why you cannot train someone to be a gender they aren't(no desistance of gender identity in both cis and trans people regardless of treatment). If intersex is to be interpreted as things exclusively affecting external or internal primary sex traits(as to be read, physically involved in the act of procreation) that are only ever natal, then I am ok in accepting intersex is not the best fit(except for that PCOS study but not super relevant rn).

That being said, I do still believe it is a part of sex and sex/gender development and that it is a physical condition(most anatomy based dysphoria). I don't see why it being a part of sex and sex development is a problem, when it has no other answer that satisfies our actual understanding of the condition and those peoples experience. Anything based on socialization has been disproven time and time again, so when are we going to stop acting like this

[poisonouspastels]

Some ppl wanted me to go on my rambles about Murder Drones world building stuff, so here you go. Decided to start off by combining two of the Disassembly Drone topics I think about a lot. Sorry if there's any typos, I compiled this in SAI lol Transcript under the cut for those who can't read the images

Disassembly Drones & YOU! aka @poisonouspastels' overanalysis and scattered rambling on characters in a webseries So how many disassembly drones are left anyways?

This is a topic that facinates me a lot, actually! In the series we of course only ever predominantly focus on 3 of them, being N, V, and J, but we are made aware of the existence of plenty of other disassembly drones, many of which outright sharing designs with fellow worker drones seen in the manor. In Cabin Fever Labs alone we see at least 17 corpses, potentially more, not accounting for scattered dismembered limbs and what belonged to who. Already this is a pretty significant indicator of amounts, and this is at minimum those killed by sentinels. More become apparent via Alice's "collection." Its a common fandom joke that there's just as many disassembly drones as there are letters in the alphabet, though I imagine this not to be the case. Their serial letters seem to not be an exclusive trait judging by their armbands, and are simply nicknames given by Tessa based upon such. Though there isn't inherently evidence for this fact, its entirely possible that there are other disassembly drones with shared serial letters (though not numbers.)

Additionally in the literal End Of The World, we see a few additional disassembly drones (though those could be the same ones seen in CFL), notably all in the same condensed area, a city somewhere on Earth. I think its important to note that this seems to be DURING Earth's downfall, implying that the planet likely wasn't destroyed all at once (to the point where we see military involvement) and moreover, that disassembly drones were those who picked off the scraps.

There does seem to be some additional evidence towards the idea that the Earth wasn't destroyed all at once, via the photos of Earth we see though the CFL computers, where major parts are intact, but in the process of being destroyed. Earth being completely destroyed, as we see it in the satellite image, is the result of at minimum being 18 years (assuming this is roughly the age of Uzi based on Liam's words and ages shown in-series) gone. Additionally, we know that two other planetary systems were destroyed before the arrival of Disassembly Drones on Copper 9, being the Proxima and then Plat-Binary system, so it is entirely possible during this period of time that Earth could have been destroyed in the process of any time between days to years, possibly even being destroyed in tandem with other planetary systems instead of being jumped to one by one.

Though its generally impossible to give an EXACT number of how many Disassembly Drones are still kicking around on Copper 9 (aside from saying "at least 3") its safe to assume that if Earth really wasn't destroyed all in one day, and there is likely more Disassembly Drones than there is letters in the alphabet, then there's probably a lot more of them that were made than the average viewer would anticipate. How many of them are ALIVE though? Up for debate, between them seemingly being killed en mass by sentinels, and even just a simple worker like Alice being able to cull a few for her collection. (As an aside, there's two other unnamed planetary systems in range of Earth on this map that have gone untouched by the Solver. Neat!)

Disassembly Drones outside of the main 3 aren't mindless killing machines, you just wildly misinterpreted Cyn's line. I can feel the digital tomatoes being thrown at me already.

This is probably going to be one of my more controversial takes in terms of "commonly accepted by the fandom" material. I don't want to outright call anyone wrong in their interpretation of this line, but I see this used so often to be a debate point for the idea that all Disassembly Drones aside from N, V, and J, are simply turned into mindless killing machines with no personalities of their own. However, so much just… doesn't support this.

I've had a very large qualm with the "no other Disassembly Drones have thoughts/feelings/personalities of their own, they're just mindless killing machines, etc etc." mindset that has been so commonly adopted by the fandom for a while now. Because of this, I've had a lot of time to stew on it, and will be breaking this into pieces.

Disassembly Drones DO have their own thoughts and feelings still, and by extension are shown to at least have empathy for their kin, even in dying moments. Its unclear as to when the CFL Disassembly Drones were killed, if they were all together or it was in succession of eachother, but there is a clear fact to be seen: the warnings they left behind for those who would follow. Warnings of the same Sentinels that ripped them to bits, written in their own oil as a dying act. Messages of "DON'T LOOK" and "THE LIGHTS", as well as the crude depiction of the Sentinel's face litter the area. A very clear indication of danger, and a very clear warning. I feel like this alone conveys the idea that Disassembly Drones have far more on their mind that just murder. At least some form of care for their kin that would come after them is shown through these warnings, even if it would not be heeded. Their thoughts when dying were not on themselves - but in a last plea to attempt to save others that would come after.

Our Sentinel friends actually get to help with our next point:

Disassembly Drones, and by extension drones on the whole, are likely unable to properly function without any form of personality or higher cognitive function. I will admit that this subject can stray slightly into headcanon territory, but is somewhat supported by evidence shown in canon. To start, we'll give out the three categories of robots made by JC Jenson: Worker Drones, (Anti-Drone) Sentinels, and the Robo-roaches (tied with the separate branch of Keybug(s)) Worker drones are of course shown to have said higher form of function. They are capable of rational thought, decision making, and functioning of their own accord outside of an assigned task. The Robo-roaches, though unable to communicate verbally (save for the Keybug variation(s) with their text functions) do seem to show at least some form of greater cognitive function, acknowledging with hand (leg) gestures gratefulness at the acknowledgement of not being crushed, and showing a sort of disgust/weariness at seeing one of its own kind being beheaded, before shortly being dispatched itself. If you'd like to assume they are on similar cognitive level as the keybug counterpart, you can also add emotional responses to their capabilities. Sentinels, however… seem incapable of any higher decision making or cognitive function than your average animal, if that. They are given a task that they seemingly STRICTLY follow: Eliminate all AI targets.

Notably, despite their human creators, they seem to have a lack of care for human wellbeing, judging by the response of a Sentinel (specifically later officially known as Sparky) being very willing to bite (fake) Tessa, alongside the others soon after the fact being just as willing to attack what they perceive as a bleeding human. "But Rose" I hear the audience shout, "We know that Tessa was actually Cyn this whole time, so maybe the Sentinels were just confused and acted accordingly!" And to that I do agree to some degree! Sparky's reaction to blood very possibly had something to do with this factor, though it is notable that he is the ONLY Sentinel that had this reaction to the sight of blood. But to this I also say:

"CODE RED SECURITY PROTOCOL OVERRIDE ANTI-DRONE SENTINELS ENGAGED RUN FOR YOUR LIFE. SEEK SHELTER OR VACATE THE PREMISE IMMEDIATELY!"

It's already KNOWN that Sentinels can attack humans, even before the core collapse. They don't have the cogantive function to differentiate even between humans and drones in their orders, they do nothing but attack everything except themselves. Ironically, the very same thing that a large chunk of the fanbase claims the Disassembly Drones to be.

While of course we never outright meet a Disassembly Drone outside of the main 3, another thing that should be inferred is: Would it truly be USEFUL to have Disassembly Drones be mindless killing machines? On paper, maybe, the Absolute Solver's end goal is seemingly just to consume everything at any cost after all. HOWEVER, I think that one crucial detail is often forgotten about our murder friends: At their core (ha), they are still modified and infected worker drones. (Sorry to all of you with fan kid OCs, you keep doing what you're doing, but that Disassembly/Worker hybrid kid you made would just be a Worker Drone) This too dives into personal headcanon based on these facts, but I imagine that it is quite literally outright impossible for worker drones to function to a full degree without a personality. If drones were capable of not being given personalities or some form of sentience en mass, I think JC Jenson would have made them that way to begin with. Not only to circumvent the whole morality debate that comes with, but also the potential robot uprising. After all, why would you NEED to give a robot a personality, any sense of self if you just want it to do everything that you say without hesitation? Because it needs it. Having a brain means nothing if you can't think with it. We already have robots that do what we want because we programmed them too, but you cannot build an intelligent being without the rationale for problem solving, decision making, and obedience. There's probably more to be said about humanity's treatment of Worker Drones, how they're often made to start with the intelligence of children to cultivate obedience, and likewise how they are treated, but that's a subject for another day.

So what's the conclusion in all that then?

Chances are, when this was said by Cyn, it was meant more figuratively. Not "retain your personalities" as in "I didn't get rid of them entirely," but rather as in "I didn't change them to better suit what I needed."

Worker Drones may not be able to function properly with a complete lack of a personality, but they CAN function with an altered personality. In fact, we see this shown outright in the series: with Cyn herself, and her infection via the Absolute Solver. Granted, this may have been a gradual change, or it may have been a radical shift from what she once was. We never see Cyn before her time in the landfill after all, so it's impossible to say with 100% certainty, but we do know at the very minimum that Cyn is not who she once was because of factors largely outside her control. Additionally, it has been noted by Liam before that the Disassembly Drones lost the information of both their birth (manufacturing?) dates alongside their names when they were originally disassembled (ie. when they ended up in the landfill, not when Cyn tore them apart, as they still very clearly remember their serial designation based names.), so a loss of a basic sense of self isn't unheard of in death, but a personality is still retained.

Therefore, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that Disassembly Drones outside of N, V, and J do have personalities- just not the ones they originally had. Likely instead ones made to benefit Cyn further in what she wants, as she does specifically designate it as "your team", implying the existence of other teams, indicating at least some sense of unison among other groups of Disassembly Drones. Wow this got long.

[b1asho]

Erm, oc comic? Just click on the images idk how to change the image position formatting here yet :(

This is what I've been doing all this time, I need to practice putting these things together. I like some things and had fun, but it also looks kind of yucky.

Oh well

Featured here are Rinshi, a muttreazik, and their boss/sister Maro, a Sundyne who's been (violently) ousted from her extremely politically important clan (for terrorism and attempted assassination :D )

The two are hiding from authorities in the SEZ, and not having a great time in general.

Here's a buncha other info, aka i want to talk about my wretched ocs :

-Rinshi is a mancer, meaning they're a muttreazik with a degree of control over matter around them (think telekinesis). Their blue eyes aren't the result of my choice of coloring, thats the color they are all the time (a highly highly unusual color for muttreazik, even in the 'other' color category).

Rinshi is also a 'they' in the same way you'd call an animal an 'it' rather than a 'he' or 'she' if that makes sense. They don't think of themself as nonbibary in the human sense, instead it's more of an "outside of the binary and therefore a nonperson" way that Cerest use for xenos. It's the only option that's not male/female/he/she that they're aware of in this point in their life

Maro is a she (and VERY upset that it means she can't ascend to God emperor)

Rinshi is hunting with a nail that they’re controlling with their mind because that’s a lot easier than chasing down the alien rats yourself.

Normally this would be very easy for them but they’re kind of going through it right now, thus the major space-out and eye-bleed at the end (which normally happens to mancers who either overextend themselves or try to do stuff without any energy support from the body)

Not all Cerest-homeplanet animals have a decentralized nervous system like Cerest themselves do (such as these two animals, who have all their thinking meat in their head), but either way a shard of metal through the face isn’t good for anything

There are pockets of Cerest wildlife in the SEZ if you look for them hard enough, which Rinshi has to do because they’re currently in the outer reaches of it away from any inhabited districts where you could just buy/steal meat products. They're spending a considerable amount of time doing this since they're trying to keep a large hypercarnivore alive right now.

Maro got her face and torso cut up pretty bad during her.uh. Incident. Luckily Cerest heal fast, though infection and only eating rats has complicated and prolonged things. They’re currently living in an old habitat pod, which she can hardly leave thanks to the healing process (which has left her pretty much unable to walk. If she could, she'd definitely be the one doing the hunting because she has fewer qualms about killing things than rinshi does.)

This conversation is pretty out of character for her, but like she said, it's boring spending most of your time asleep in a garbage heap rather than pursuing your ambitions of ruling the world. Thankfully, she can always just ask her trusty retainer about things they don’t want to talk about.

‘et kerusit’ is just the Cerest version of like ‘my liege’ but specifically in the Sundyne female context and specifically for someone in Maro’s (former) rank/position in her (former) clan. "Princess" is also a pretty close analog but neither really sounded right so I made up some words. "Retainer” is the closest word I could find for what Rinshi is to Maro, and it fits fairly well (there is probably a better word out there but i like the old-timey knight vibe) they were originally employed to her clan as basically her little assistant and mandatory friend/bodygaurd/ally/etc. This happened mostly as an insult to her because that role should normally fall to a fellow sundyne and not a 'lesser species', but she has made it work.

I'm still testing this out but the Cerest language conventions are also why the question marks are out front most of the time, they don't change tone to indicate a question and instead just say an "I'm asking you a question" word at the start.

Rinshi also has a sort of stutter no matter what language they're speaking, with different words and sounds causing prolongations or repetitions. They didn't have any kind of support for the issue growing up, so theyre not great at managing it. So that's why some of their words are like that

The aforementioned rank difference is also why Maro gets 2 << instead of 1 when speaking (she's using a different enunciation of words to indicate her status, as is Rinshi. Basically ï for royalty i for commoner, or something. If they were speaking a Drecu dialect rather than a Sundyne one, their words would be in these things -> [[ ) .

As I’ve mentioned up there, they see each other more like siblings in their own mini clan (but she definitely calls the shots in their relationship )

Muttreazik think rebirth is real and they’re kind of right (at least within their own species). Rinshi does NOT want to dwell on where they used to live but those ideas were drilled in at a very young age.

[genderqueerdykes]

your post makes no sense? all of the identities that you named are NOT cis men??? and quite frankly it feels transphobic for you to consider them that

i'm a trans woman so i'm part of the group i'm commenting on. you do realize that a bigender trans woman who identifies as a trans woman and a cis man is still partially a cis man and that's not transphobic and it doesn't invalidate their trans womanhood, right? you do realize that a transfemme cis man is still a cis man and that doesn't invalidate their femmehood, right? you do realize a transfemme genderfluid person who identifies as a cis man is still partially a cis man and it doesn't invalidate their other genders, right? being bigender doesn't completely erase 1/2 of the identity. being a woman doesn't cancel out being a man. are you seriously saying that because that person has a queer identity means that it totally erases the fact that they are literally also identifying in plain english that they are also a cis man?

immersing yourself in the transfeminine community will help with this drastically. i don't know you or your history, but most of my IRL friends are transfeminine, myself included. there are many of my transfem friends who never want to be considered a man, and that's perfectly fine. however, i would say a good 1/3rd of the trans women i've met have also still identified as a cis gay man on some level. without shame, without it taking away their womanhood. existing alongside each other; parallel. if you meet and befriend a good number of transfeminine people you will find out that a lot of transfems identify as cis men and trans women at the same time. that's not new. many trans women identify as cis gay men and trans women at the same time. like, it's an extremely common thing. bigender means having two genders- one is trans woman, the other is cis man for people who identify this way. this person is a trans woman, a cis man, and a bigender person.

this doesn't make that person a bigender person, and a trans woman only. why do you think it's okay to completely erase that person's male identity? why do you think it's okay to completely ignore someone's manhood for the sake of their other identity? cis manhood isn't "icky". it doesn't get cancelled out by queerness. them partially being a cis man does not invalidate their trans womanhood. wake the fuck up, you're being transmisogynstic as hell right now and it's embarrassing.

a question you must ask yourself: why are you insinuating that it is transphobic to refer to someone correctly? my post specifically referred to trans women who also identify as cis men in their own words. why, in your mind, is this a bad thing? you MUST ask yourself why it's "transphobic" to acknowledge these identities and refer to these individuals correctly. you must ask yourself why you're putting your comfort before someone else's representation. there are transfemme cis men. there are transfeminine genderfluid people who identify as cis men when they are men. there are non binary cis men. why do you think that cis men cannot be queer, or trans? why are you assuming that a trans woman being a cis man at the same time is transphobic? why

this reeks of "woman cannot be man at the same time or else woman get cancelled out"

what is confusing about trans women having multiple genders? what's wrong with a bigender, multigender, genderfluid, genderqueer, genderfuck, gender non conforming, and/or intersex trans woman having a male identity that's also cis? what's wrong with that? how does that erase or "conflict" with the rest of their identity in any capacity?

there are bigender trans men who are cis women and trans men at the same time. there are bigender trans women who are cis men and trans women at the time. literally how does that not make sense. please explain to me how it doesn't make sense. every single person who has told me i'm not making sense hasn't told me why. please explain to me why you proudly and loudly saying that bi/multigender trans women don't exist is okay, but me fighting for people to understand that they do is transphobic.

stop virtue signalling and shoot the cop in your mind dead. in your attempt to look like a hero and earn brownie points all you did was show that you literally don't understand multigender, genderqueer, non binary, and other gender vast experiences. trans women won't magically like you more now because you decided to show everyone that you think it's transphobic to call someone who overtly in their own words identifies as a cis man, a cis man.

cis men aren't the devil. calm down and stop freaking the hell out over the fact that you can in fact be a cis man and a trans woman at the same time. the sun will still rise. the world will keep turning. it's not transphobic to refer to someone by the terms they ask you to use. get over yourself on this one, anon. that's your cross to bear: you are the transphobe. do yourself a favor and look into multigenderism before you decide to comment on trans theory again

you thought yourself into a corner and you can't find your way out.

[caintooth]

From a transmasc who loves transfems more than I hate transmisogyny: If you are AFAB you should not be calling yourself transfem, a transwoman, or a transgirl.

Let me start this by saying that I agree, obviously, that our society needs to stop caring about AGAB. Ideally, we should not be assigned AFAB or AMAB to begin with, and we should all be able to use the language we feel suits us best. If you are both trans and a woman, it does seem like it makes sense to call yourself a transwoman, doesn’t it? Even if you were AFAB?

But let’s have nuance, please. Let’s start by acknowledging this: a world in which our AGABs have no impact on our social roles / perceptions / interactions is NOT a world we live in yet. No matter how badly we may want to simply be feminine and masculine and androgynous and outside of connection to a binary system and AGABs entirely, we have NOT achieved that sort of liberation. To pretend we have- to act as if your AGAB has no impact on the way you are perceived and treated- is an extremely privileged game of imagination.

The most common argument I have seen from AFABs using transfem / transwoman language for themselves is that they are someone who is both, by all definitions, transgender and a woman. This may be because they previously transitioned into manhood or transmasculinity, and did not identify as a woman or as feminine at all during that time, but now, for whatever reason, have started identifying as a woman / feminine again. Or they may be a person who identifies with any variation of non-binary woman, bigender, genderfluid, genderqueer, demigirl, etc. Any identity which is either “I used to not be a woman, but am a woman now,” or “I am a woman, and another gender or lack thereof, too.”

I understand. In whatever version of this scenario, they are both transgender or have transitioned at some point, and are currently feminine or a woman. It does really sound like transfem or transwoman should be the correct language to use in this scenario!

I am non-binary, transmasc, and was indeed AFAB. I get it. I am transgender. I am not a woman, but I am also, sometimes, a woman. I am transgender and I am a woman. And I spent years of my life fighting against femininity, only to find that finally being allowed to be openly masculine has helped me embrace femininity again. It seems this is not an uncommon experience. But I am not now, and never will be, a transwoman.

Because the word transwoman has very, very specific meaning. “Meanings can change,” and “words have more than one meaning,” you say? Yes, that is true! And it should be! Change and embracing of nuance is so important to our community. And nobody should be policing the language anybody else uses.

But that being said, please. Embrace this nuance, if you are so passionate about words having it. People who were AMAB and are women have extremely different experiences than people who were AFAB and are still / are again, in whatever form for whatever reason, women or feminine.

Being a woman who was AMAB has unique culture, intersectionality, and vulnerability. Countless transwomen have asked people who were AFAB not to use the language of actual transfemininity, because it is such a different experience than being trans and feminine separately. Let me make this clear.

People who were AFAB are expected to be and rewarded for being women. If we perform womanhood in an unpalatable way, yes, we do experience misogyny. If we are also transgender, yes, we do experience transphobia. But neither of these things, even when experienced at the same time, are the same as transmisogyny, which can only be experienced by people who were AMAB.

This is because of the patriarchy. Gender Issues 101. Manhood and masculinity are seen as the ultimate power. Womanhood and femininity, as less. So, yeah, I get your confusion here. People who were AFAB, especially if they are also trans or are women or feminine in the “wrong” way, will indeed always be seen as lesser than men, for the fact of being AFAB alone! Absolutely nobody is saying that misogyny and transphobia against AFAB people are not massively violent forces in this world. Nobody is saying people who were AFAB have it “easy!”

But again, again again- people who were AMAB and are women experience a form of violence and hate very different from the kind we as AFAB people do. You know as well as I do that the patriarchy does not view women who were AMAB as actual women. It instead views them as failed men. And to those indoctrinated, that is a crime worse than womanhood. It is the ultimate insult: “They are not women. They are clearly not men, either. They are third. Other.”

AFAB people who are trans or perceived as “failed women,” no matter our actual or internal connection with femininity or womanhood, are viewed by society negatively, yes, but not as third or Other. Because, despite the wording, “failed women” are still actually viewed as women. This is because the patriarchy views people who were AFAB as inherently flawed by mere circumstance of birth. We are inherently capable of failure, because we have already failed by not being born cis men… And cis men, on the other hand, are viewed as ideal, perfect, god-like, and thus not capable of failure at all.

Let me reiterate. Due to transphobia and the rigid structure of gender within the patriarchy, when people who were AMAB declare “I am a not a man,” they are denied the status of woman. But, due to misogyny and the position of men as supreme, flawless beings within the patriarchy, when people who were AMAB respond by saying “I am a woman,” they are also denied the status of man. It is this also which is so significant. They are viewed by the patriarchy as Other in a way that people who were AFAB never will be, because we will always just be viewed as women, which is at least human.

The fact that people who are AFAB will only ever be viewed as woman is a separate issue, with separate conversation around it. Because I understand, as one of them, that we may identify with a concept of thirdness and of Otherness. We, like women who were AMAB, are not men! We feel a kinship there!

But I think I have explained well why our experience of Otherness is not the same as Otherness experienced by transwomen who were AMAB. No matter how deeply we feel third, Other, different, strange, weird? Even if this is, from the depth our soul and core of our being, not how we want to be treated? Society is still willing to view us, at the very least, no matter how much we hate it, as women. Which, like I said, is at least one way to be seen as human.

Women who were AMAB, however, are only ever treated as Other. Not even as human beings. Do you see how this is different? Do you see how this is worse?

The two questions we are trying to answer in this post are, first, why is it wrong that some people who were AFAB want to call themselves trans women or trans feminine? Which leads us to, second, why would they want to in the first place?

Transwomen who were coercively assigned male at birth are, in fact, women. They are not Other. They are not third. They are human beings and the patriarchy is wrong. I know this. The wider queer community claims to know this, too.

But we must not let our desire to affirm transwomen in their womanhood cloud our eyes to the fact that the vast majority of the world still holds extremely violent and dangerous mentality towards them.

When people who were AFAB use the language of transwoman, transfem, and transgirl for themselves, they are equating their experiences to that of AMAB people. They are, in a way, fetishizing transwomanhood. They are saying, “I have seen those called transwomen also called weird, and strange, and third, and Other. I feel that way myself, sometimes. Words like ‘genderqueer’ and ‘genderfluid’ and ‘bigender’ and ‘demigirl’ and etc., though perfectly established and expressive of my gender, do not express to others the quality of inhumanity which I feel I am a victim of. They do not express my uniqueness. But transwomen are seen as inhuman, and unique in their suffering. I am going to associate my feeling of inhumanity with their word, too. I am going to make sure this association continues, so that my pain is acknowledged, too.”

It is a violent co-opting of language. It is self-victimization. It is denial of differing axises of oppression. You are allowed to hurt, to feel Other, and denied of your humanity. But what reason do you have to equate your experience of hurt with a more marginalized group’s oppression, besides selfishness? Especially when you have been asked, repeatedly, to stop.

This behavior creates an unsafe environment for actual transwomen, who deserve community with people who acknowledge the unique experience of transfemininity! Who should be able to comfortably find other actually transfeminine people to make friends with and confide in! Who should be allowed to have their own spaces, communities, and safety nets!

Transfeminine people deserve security. Sorry for the word play, but I literally cannot imagine anything more insecure than stealing language from transwomen.

[bambamramfan]

HIVLI

I've seen in the rationalistsphere a lot of dividing people into binary personality models, that are useful and different from the more popular stereotypes (though obviously as simplistic as any binary model.) High decouplers vs low decouplers is a really big one, though also high agency vs low agency. (These descriptions are usually "high x vs low x" with implicit emphasis that the "high" group is better.)

I'm going to add one binary that I think has not gotten nearly enough attention, though you can decide whether I favor the high or low half.

High Impulsiveness

We are used to impulsiveness as just a straight up bad word, like someone who lacks the discipline to resist temptation. Really it's not even about people, but more about moods we can fall into and should be avoided.

I think that's bollocks - not only are some people more impulsive, but it's not even an entirely *bad* thing and has some real positive contributions.

An impulsive person acts on an idea without thinking about it a lot. It could be the decision to throw the first punch in a fight, it could be kissing someone without worrying if it will be reciprocated, it might be deciding to throw a giant party just because, it might be buying a cool new jacket from the leather store, it might be pivoting your business into an entirely new sector, and it very very often is tweeting something on the spur of the moment.

And let's be honest - we love some of the impulsive people in our life. We love how they drop everything for us in a moment of need, we love how they surprise us with a spontaneous gift, we love how they are the first to say I love you. This impulsiveness is hella charismatic because all of their actions feel genuine and powerful and they just do a lot more actions showing their affection than people who think about it too much.

A high impulse person never lies because they believe what they are saying at the time. It might contradict what they said in the past, or what they will follow through on in the future, or even what the state of the world actually is, but they could sure as hell pass a lie detector test saying it right now.

Elon Musk is famous as a high impulse person, boldly creating new companies and leading industries because he decided HE CAN DO IT and doesn't waste any time thinking about the reasons it's not feasible.

On a whim, he bought a $1 million sports car and this is what happened to it:

FWIW, this was on the way to signing a major deal with Thiel.

My contention is that it is no coincidence that the man who reinvented the electric car industry and private space travel, completely wrecked his uninsured million dollar car trying to impress another billionaire. These are two sides of the same coin.

Low Impulsiveness

I think of the epitome of High Impulse vs Low Impulse is Trump vs Clinton in 2016. If you ask a LI person something, they will want to pause and consider the answer - is it true, does it accord with the rest of the world, will it upset anyone, are there any necessary qualifications on this?

To the media viewer, this looks like a calculating liar who is choosing what truth you should get to hear. The more "honest" person was the one "shooting from the gut" and answering immediately and unambiguously. Which answer actually turned out to be "true" is something that would be lost until the question was long forgotten.

A low impulse person wants to plan out what they are doing, what are the risks, how to mitigate them, even if they succeed one time will they be able to consistently stick to replicating this. (Hillary and Obama have been married one time each, even as we both have seen the tribulations of those marriages. Trump and Musk have been married, what, 8 times total?)

Some people reading this will just say this is a new label on high agency vs low agency people. And there is *some* correlation - a lot of high impulse people (again like Trump or Musk) are very high agency, and many low impulse people can be depressed, defeatist and think nothing is worth doing (usually myself.)

But I don't think that's accurate, these traits aren't the same thing. You can be high impulse / low agency - that's usually a depressive that lashes out at everything around them. And low impulse / agency is the stereotype of the master planner who has figured out exactly how everything will go.

You might say that high impulse people have higher VARIANCE than low impulse people, and the effect we're actually measuring is variance. I don't think that's what's going on at the personal level, so it's not useful for describing the people involved and why they do things and causality.

But the point about high variance is that high impulse people fuck up a lot. They lead to ALL SORTS OF MISTAKES and costs that the low impulse people justifyingly grumble about. Which is why our prisons are mostly full of high impulse people (but then so are our performing stages.)

For a long time, what it took to get ahead at the highest levels of power, was iterated successes, and that weeded out a lot of high-impulse people. HI people would fuck up eventually, and they'd go to jail or lose all the money or piss off the wrong people or lose their reputation and they'd stop advancing. Which is how we got a stereotype of national leaders as wishy washy grey emotionless blobs - those were the only ones who could survive a gauntlet of potential mistakes in the press or gossipy political games.

We've clearly entered a new era where downsides are limited, and enough success can overcome any failure. If, as a business leader, you can get 10% of the people to LOVE you, they can buy your stock and buoy you, even as 90% of people hate every decision you make.

We're seeing its effects the most in politics - Trump can't do anything to lose the confidence of his people so long as the other people hate him, so "shooting from the hip" every second of every day works wonders for him, even as it leads to meaningless policy and complete denial of reality.

But we see its growth in the media with independent substacks and other influencer platforms. So long as you can never be truly knocked out, the strategy of "gamble everything, keep trying to get attention" beats out most of the planners and low impulsiveness.

I think this is a bad thing, but it's not because I exclusively prefer Low Impulse behavior. HI people are super fun. But our leadership needs some combination of people with "emotional spontaneity" and people doing "thoughtful engagement with reality", and drifting too much in the former direction has fairly obvious disastrous consequences.

[myirlnameiscloud]

I hate how some people will either invalidate me for being transmasc, lesbian, nonbinary, or all three because they don't like someone being all three of those at the same time.

Since it's pride month, I'm hoping maybe I can draw some attention to some annoying things people say about transmasc lesbian enbies like me. Which will hopefully get people to reconsider what they say to us.

(Just me ranting under the cut)

"How can you be a lesbian if you're nonbinary and transmasc? Lesbians are women who like women. Maybe you're just trixic."

Okay firstly, if you know what trixic is, then you should also know a more proper definition for what lesbians are. (Lesbian is a term for women and genderqueer people who are attracted to women and genderqueer people, although there may be some exceptions to this, ex: an agendered person who doesn't consider themself a woman or genderqueer for whatever reason who's only attracted to women. Does this definition seem complicated to you? That's because gender and sexuality are often complicated.) Also, yes, I do identify as trixic. 'Lesbian' is just an easier and more commonly known label for me to use, and it's a label I also identify with.

"If you're nonbinary you can't be transmasc. You have to be transneutral."

Okay well, even if I am masculine in a trans way, that doesn't make me binary. Enbies can be as masculine or feminine as we desire. I'm actually quite androgynous, and the word 'transmasc' pretty much sums up my experience in being nonbinary while afab. Also, YES, I DO CONSIDER MYSELF TRANSNEUTRAL. Transgender identities aren't something where you can ONLY CHOOSE ONE. You can only choose one if you really want to, but a lot of the time, more than one identity will fit us.

"Maybe you're just a straight trans man."

Absolutely not. I am as far away from being a man as I am from being a woman. Just because I am transmasc does not make me a man. You do not need to suggest an identity to me as though this is some 'lightbulb moment' that nobody's ever told me before. If you think transmascs can't be nonbinary, or that lesbians can't be transmasc, please reread everything I have written so far.

"Maybe you're just a cisgender lesbian."

Absolutely not. Holy fuck this is just blatant transphobia (and ESPECIALLY enbyphobia) at this point. This is the most common label people will try to force on me. People sometimes assume that because I am a lesbian, my dysphoria must be pretty low, and therefore they can get away with misgendering me. Which is just such a shitty thing to do. Even if I DID have low dysphoria, it would still be a shitty thing to do.

It's like people are uncomfortable with ANY label nonbinary people want to put on our sexualities. Or even our genders.

Oh, but of course, this is just the stuff I hear from allies and people within the LGBTQ+ community. Obviously, complete homophobes and transphobes just hate me no matter what.

I'm just ranting now, I guess.

[blankfairy]

All Things Devour | Chapter 1

Samsa Waters is a bastard. A noble bastard, but a bastard nonetheless. She knows — and her aunt so often reminds her — that if she wants anything in this world of politics, war, and dragons, she’ll have to fight for it. Tooth and claw. Luckily, for a child of House Vesgar — an ancient family of Valyrian bloodmages — neither are in short supply.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Original Character(s), Aemond Targaryen/Original Character(s).

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Period-Typical Attitudes, Misgendering of a Trans Character.

Read on AO3!

I'm not really sure where this ride is taking me, nor how soon updates will come, but I've had chapter one of this fic ready for a while now, and I thought, fuck it. Let's do this. I wanna give a quick but huge thank you to everyone who's supported me as I wrote, either through encouragement, feedback, or beta reading! My partner dogboykennedy, my dear friend amarithian, darkwolf76 (everyone go check out her amazing fic, Children of Bone and Blood!), and everyone in the HOTD Hub discord for putting up with my incessant questions! ^^" Note: This is, essentially, an ASOIAF/Resident Evil crossover — if you're the least bit familiar with RE, you'll know — with an OC focus. Prior Resident Evil knowledge definitely not required. There are a few characters in this fic who are transgender, non-binary, or generally gender nonconforming, Samsa being one of them. I use she/her pronouns for her for simplicity. There is also a trans male character who is not always gendered correctly by other characters and, in reference to his daughter, is called 'mother.' Please take careful note if that's something that causes you distress or dysphoria.

The Red Keep reeked of death. When Samsa parted her lips and scented the air, the taste spread across her tongue like melting fat — thick and buttery, cloying in its sweetness. It grew so overwhelming the deeper she and her aunt proceeded within Maegor’s Holdfast, that by the time they reached the king’s chambers, her head was throbbing.

Meat. Fear-scent. Game, spoiled by the chase. Flesh, lost to rot. She had butchered quarry that stunk like this. Deer with fatty liver and rabbits with white-freckled intestines. The illness ruined it all. Samsa eyed the crack beneath King Viserys Targaryen’s door, inhaled the air soaked in sickness and sweetsmoke, and decided then and there that there would be no saving him. Three-and-ten, self-decidedly wise to the ways of life and death and the powers that kept each at bay, she wondered if Alyx’s game was worth playing at all.

The king will die, Samsa had reasoned, clutching the curl of parchment scrawled and sealed by Ser Otto Hightower, Hand of the King. Words not meant for girls named Waters, but she’d read them all the same. Best he does it under the maester’s watch, not ours.

Alyx had only given her a sly smile, the one she’d once shared with Samsa’s father, and told her to start packing her things. Now, she fussed with her hair as if she were still a babe. Even bastards must look their best. Especially bastards.

“Easy, kēlitsos.” Alyx’s deft fingers combed through Samsa’s blond locks, freshly cut at her shoulders. “Nervous, are you?”

“I’m not nervous,” Samsa countered. Perhaps it would have been wise to be. A pair of voices murmuring behind the door pricked her ears. She tried to parse their owners out as Alyx pinned her hair back with a sliver of polished black rib bone. A whisper, hoarse with exhaustion, then a woman’s, firm but coated in worry. Viserys and the queen?

She felt a tug at the back of her head and hissed. “Watch it!”

“Hush,” Alyx tutted. “You won’t do that in front of the king.”

“Do what?”

“Act like a child.” Alyx released Samsa’s hair and circled her, studying her as though she were choosing new tapestries for Arlior Ānogrion’s receiving hall. “Disregard, disobey, or ignore me…”

The voices caught again, harsh whispers. If only she could hear what they were arguing about…

“Stare,” Alyx pressed up at the underside of Samsa’s chin with a sharp finger, “with your mouth agape like a simpering fool.” Her gaze, an indigo as rich as the sky at dusk, was cool and hard. Still, Samsa found her threats harder to take seriously now that Alyx had to look up into her eyes to scold her.

“I would not dream of disrespecting our king, my lady,” Samsa replied, pushing her hand away. “I’m only listening.”

“Listening,” Alyx echoed. “Fine. Yes. Perhaps try not to look so foolish when you do.”

“I’ll behave.” Samsa offered a smile and felt her canine teeth poke her lip. “Perhaps you should have some faith in me.”

“I had faith in your father.” Alyx touched Samsa’s clasp, a bronze pair of prancing chimeras clutching each side of her crimson wool cloak, and straightened it out with a tug. “And we know where he found himself.”

A burning scent pricked Samsa’s nostrils. Her smile faltered. She set back her shoulders and knit her hands behind her back. “Have I been preened to your liking, my lady?”

Alyx smoothed her hands over her own dress; a modest gown of black linen, with red silk peeking from slits in the fabric like blood blossoming from a wound. A light chain belt, smoky Valyrian steel, hung from her waist, and rubies flashed at her ears. “Well enough. There’s only so much I can do.”

  Alyx hadn’t even tried persuading Samsa into a dress. A black doublet with crimson cotton sleeves, embroidered in gold thread at the neck and sharp shoulders, was appropriate for meeting the king and queen, though perhaps not for a young girl. Her long cloak hid the menswear well enough; her dark pants and laced leather boots, not so much.

“How kind of you to say so,” Samsa said, watching as Alyx’s face pinched in resigned displeasure. She took a long, deep breath.

The voices grew louder. Samsa could hear them more clearly now: one man and one woman in disagreement. She let her hands fall to her sides. “The Hand will not be greeting us today.”

“Dāria?”

Samsa nodded. The queen. That was well enough; Alyx had known Alicent as a girl, naught more than a companion to Princess Rhaenyra, before she had ever worn the crown. Still, Alyx ironed out her posture, the lingering folds in her dress.

A moment later, the doors heaved open. A knight of the Kingsguard greeted them. “You may enter.”

“Come. Rȳbās,” her aunt said, urging her with a soft touch to her back. “And do not speak unless spoken to.”

Samsa dipped her head in silent obedience. As she looked back up, she spotted a flash of white at the end of the hallway. Ghostly curls, a pale face. Dark, wide eyes gawked at her from behind the hall’s last column. She reached for Alyx’s sleeve to point them out, but when she blinked, the face was gone. The doors heaved open, and the queen’s voice beckoned.

When all the pleasantries and greetings were said and done, Alyx spread her spidery fingers and slunk them over each pock and crag marring King Viserys’ face. Between the now overwhelming scent of rot and the hard, discomforted looks the queen had been giving her since she set foot in the room, Samsa tried not to grimace.

Alyx hummed, undisturbed by anything but her subject. “These years have not been kind to you, my dear.”

Viserys chuckled hoarsely, and with little joy. “Kinder to you, to be certain. You look as though you were never…”

“I am well. Don’t fret.” Alyx gave a practiced smile. “The gods exact their toll on each of us.”

And some of us have a higher price to pay, Samsa thought. For all the horror it was, the king’s face was a marvel, too. She found herself attempting to peer past Alyx when she blocked her vision, listing each of his possible afflictions in her mind. Sweetrot, yellowgum, wormbone, butterfly fever, brownleg — none seemed to fit. Alyx would comb her for her thoughts afterwards, and she knew to be ready.

“Some of us more than others,” Viserys wheezed. All he seemed to speak in were wheezes and coughs.

“And the pain?”

“It feels as though it grows worse by the day,” he told Alyx. She touched his cheek, gaunter than any man’s Samsa had seen before. The skin was discolored, red with irritation and black with something else. “Some days I can hardly find the strength to eat.”

“That will do you no good, Your Grace. You must try.” Alyx felt down the side of Viserys’ neck, shoulder, and where his arm should have been, ignoring his flinches of pain.

Samsa observed the queen as they spoke. Alicent watched, her body coiled tight like a spring, ready to pounce the moment Alyx pushed too far. They had never been friends, she knew; Alyx had been Aemma’s lady-in-waiting and a guiding voice to Princess Rhaenyra, not Alicent, but Samsa had expected more familiarity and less unease. When Alyx declared she was unsure of the cause of the king’s illness and turned to Alicent to seek her own account, the queen was tense, terse, and gave a smile that convinced no one of her courtesy.

“You’re sure you can help?” she asked, touching the seven-pointed pendant laying across her clavicle.

“Of course,” Alyx answered. “I’ve brought my best. Your maesters have done well, but some things cannot compare to what House Vesgar can offer.” She clasped her hands at her waist and took a step closer, her belt clinking gently against itself. “Still, I should like to meet with the Grand Maester. Orwyle now, is it?” There was a kind of sparkling satisfaction in her eyes — she had never been fond of Mellos, nor Mellos of her.

“Grand Maester Orwyle, yes.” Queen Alicent gave a nod. “I’ll have him visit your chambers once you’re settled.”

“Sooner rather than late,” Alyx said. She looked at Viserys and smiled. “I’d like to start today. If it please you, Your Grace.”

“It would,” The king replied, managing to smile. “Please. We grew up together, my lady. Viserys.”

Alyx nodded deeply. “If his Grace commands.”

They shared a short, gentle laugh as both Samsa and Alicent watched on, silent. For a moment, there was kinship in their frustration, in being nothing more than an outsider. Was she thinking of Aemma, Samsa wondered? The dead queen she had replaced? The familiarity flickered out like a candle the moment she remembered it was the queen that stood beside her, not an equal with jealousy to share.

It could have been hers once. The life Alyx and her father, Albyn, had lived long before she was born. Highborn, companions to dragonriding royalty, living in the shadow of the Iron Throne. Samsa knew she was foolish, immature, petty for thinking so; Alyx had told her as such time and time again. She didn’t even want it, for a creature like her had no place in the Red Keep; not sewing with the princess or sparing with the princes. Yet, the jealousy remained. If only her father had had the decency to wed her mother before having his way...

She’d dreamed of her proper name, her chambers in the Red Keep, of dragonriding; sneaking into the Dragonpit to claim a beast of her own. She had enough Valyrian blood, she thought… But so had her father, and it had hardly done him any good.

The laughter lulled until it was nothing but a buzzing echo in Samsa’s ears. Alyx bowed her head, offering a curtsy to both the king and queen.

“Now, Viserys, Your Grace, if you’ll excuse us…”

“A moment,” Viserys interrupted. He peered past Alyx’s figure and his watery violent eyes met Samsa’s sharp blue ones. “You’ve hidden this one from us for long enough. Albyn’s son, yes?”

“Daughter,” Alicent corrected.

“Daughter,” Viserys echoed. “Yes, yes. My apologies, my girl. Come closer.”

Samsa obeyed, warmed by the attention, and bowed as low as her pride would allow. Alyx touched the small of her back as she passed, a silent warning to behave.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Three-and-ten,” Samsa replied.

“And sprouting like a weed.” Viserys had to crane his neck to look at her properly, and Samsa couldn’t help the smug satisfaction that fluttered in her chest. She could, however, help her smirk. “You look just as your father did at that age.”

Samsa heard it often. Hard-edged with a strong jaw and fierce eyes, she sometimes even gave Alyx a start when turning corners.

Viserys studied her for a long moment. She could only endure as his tired eyes slithered over her frame. Just as the silence became unbearable, he spoke once more. “I was sorry to hear what befell him.” His tongue clicked ever so softly, not in sorrow, but as if he were chiding a dead man. “’Twas a horrible thing.”

“A foolish thing.” Her voice cracked the air into an uneasy silence. Whatever joy she’d taken from the frailty of the man sitting in front of her vanished as quickly as it had taken hold. “You should not mourn my father, Your Grace. Nor my loss. He was a fool, and a thief. He died a fool’s death. There’s no pride in that.”

The stench of the smoke and sulfur that had clung to his black bones was as fresh as the king’s corruption before her. Grief hadn’t found Samsa the night he died, nor any after, but the smell of flesh razed by dragonfire always sought her in her dreams.

Alyx shifted out of the corner of Samsa’s eye, no doubt preparing to berate her as soon as they were alone. She’d spoken out of turn at best, and snapped at the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms at worst. Was Samsa supposed to apologize? Thank him? What good were Viserys’ condolences to a bastard who only knew him by name and sickness? The king flashed her a wavering, pitiful smile.

Samsa set her shoulders back. If he wouldn’t reprimand her, she saw no reason to prostrate herself. “I’m glad to be here, Your Grace. I look forward to seeing you well.”

The next moments flit by in a blur. Alyx apologized, much to Samsa’s chagrin, and attributed her brashness to the long journey and Albyn’s recent death. The trip was naught more than a few days at sea, and her father’s death a year stale, but Samsa knew better than to protest. They hurried out to their assigned chambers shortly after, with promises of attending to Viserys that evening.

Alyx restrained herself from scolding Samsa until they were alone in their chambers. She stood tall while Samsa draped herself over a plush green chaise lounge and studied her fingernails.

“A different king would have taken your tongue for that,” Alyx hissed. Her voice was smooth, rich and deep like dark silk. This was the tone of a ruling lady; the daughter of a Lannister and a Vesgar. The sweet praise and soft my dears she had treated King Viserys to didn’t sound natural from her lips, but these threats did.

“If there was a different king, we wouldn’t be here,” Samsa replied. “How do you take a tongue with only one hand, anyways?”

“I will. If you won’t listen.”

Samsa flicked her gaze up at Alyx. Her threats were not empty, so she kneaded her tongue with her teeth and kept herself from biting back again. She forced herself to speak more softly, but no less begrudged. “I didn’t want to hear him speak of Father any longer. It’s humiliating.”

“It pleases me no more than it does you to hear him trip over his kind words and apologies.” Alyx held her hands at her waist, smoothing her palms together, the soft sound like a hiss in Samsa’s ears. “You’ll hear more of it. You’ll be stared at. Lords your father once knocked into the dirt will give you condolences, then snicker behind your back. If you plan to remain in the Red Keep for long, you’ll face it with dignity.”

“Dignity,” Samsa echoed, incredulous. “There’s no dignity in any of that.”

“Take up your fight with your father’s ashes, Samsa. It’s been a long day, and the next moons will be longer. No more. Not from you. Not from Ser Leon. Not from the king.” Alyx spoke with an edge that told Samsa that she wouldn’t humor the topic any longer. She sighed, fixed her sleeves, and slipped away to the pale balcony affixed to her suite.

Samsa simmered in a few minutes of silence before joining her. They had plans to make, or at least needed to speak about what to do with Viserys. She kept an ear out for the door, wondering when Alicent would send for the Grand Maester, or when her sworn shield, Ser Leon, would come fetch her so they could walk the castle together. The details of their chambers kept her occupied in the interim. Decently sized, not far from Maegor’s Holdfast, and open to the air of one of the castle gardens. They each had their own room, attached by a small bathhouse, adequately decorated and befitting of their station.

When she grew tired of counting the patterns on the wall, and none of the steps beyond their door halted to knock, Samsa pushed herself to her feet and went to Alyx. The sheer curtains brushed against Samsa’s skin as she pushed past, soft and light as a feather, dancing in the warm breeze. Alyx lounged against the parapet, her loosened blonde braid strewn over her shoulder.

“The queen did not seem fond of you.” Samsa joined her aunt in the fresh air, perching herself on the edge of the parapet. “Us,” she corrected after a moment.

“She didn’t,” Alyx conceded. The edge in her voice had blunted from earlier, though she always kept a certain sharpness to her words. She didn't seem as angry as before, or at least had other things on her mind. “I expected as much. This is not the princess. It’s the queen. We only ever spoke in short courtesies when Rhaenyra brought Lady Alicent to see Aemma.”

“Will it be a problem?”

 “I don’t suspect so.” Alyx turned to look at Samsa. The setting sun haloed her in rays of pink and gold. “For all the Hightowers have done, the king brought us here. He’ll not send his oldest friend away so easily.”

“As long as I stay out of trouble, you mean.”

Alyx’s face creased with a hint of impatience. “As long as you stay out of trouble.”

“I hear the eldest prince is a mischievous one,” Samsa said. “Perhaps that’s what I need to get his attention.” She thought back to the face in the hallway, framed by silvery curls. Had it been Prince Aegon, or Aemond? Whichever one, she needed to find him.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Alyx chided. “Be simple, be safe. Keep Leon close.”

“Wherever he may be, enjoying the castle and city without my company...”

“He’ll find his way,” Alyx said. “I sent for him and Luis.”

Leon was older, nearing his twenty-second year, but had not yet grown so insufferable that Samsa dreaded his company. By all accounts his demeanor was a miracle, considering the knight who had mentored him, Ser Jack Connington, was as joyless as they came. He made a good captain-of-the-guard, but had little use otherwise. Leon had been her protector since he’d been knighted, and bearing the name of Waters just like her, she liked to think of him as an elder brother. He was comely, with soft blue eyes that reminded her of a begging dog, and fond of letting Samsa get away with things. She’d spent her last nameday at a tavern by his side, squeezed between the castle blacksmith and kennelmaster.

She didn’t know Luis as well, though he’d been drinking with them too, and a steadfast companion of Leon’s for years. He was another former student of the Citadel, Dornish, and had an easy air about him. With a mind as quick as his smile, he had been Alyx’s first choice to bring to King’s Landing.

Samsa leaned further back, anchoring herself to the parapet by her ankles. The open air yawned at her back while the breeze brushed her cheeks. She scented the clean sea air; salt and flowers, fish and smoke. A touch of pine and sulfur and she could have been home, watching the sun rise over the Gullet from her chambers in Arlior Ānogrion.

Samsa craned her neck, peering across the askew garden and the Sunset Sea beyond. “And… If I come across my mother?”

“Restrain yourself,” Alex said in a flat tone, as if the answer had been obvious. “I don’t need a rogue voice running to Alicent because you grew too eager.”

“You think so highly of him, that he would cry to the queen at first sight.”

“You don’t know him as I did.”

If it were up to you, I wouldn’t know him at all.

Finn. It was hardly a mother’s name, let alone a lady’s, but Samsa liked the way it laid on her tongue. She tasted it each night she laid alone in bed, holding it close, wondering what he looked like, if they had the same nose, or lips, or wide set of the shoulder. He’d left so little of himself in her that Samsa could only guess.

An old maidservant had given the name to her; a witness of what had befallen the poor girl in men’s clothing that Lord Albyn had taken to bed. Alyx had even deigned her his family name when Samsa proudly presented her findings: Flint. The blood of Old Valyria ran thick in her veins, but she took special pleasure in knowing a bit of her came from the North; the barren tundras, the cold, churning waters, the stony seat of Widow’s Watch. She had Bolton in her, too, from her father’s grandmother, but her cousins at the Dreadfort were more distant than the foreign lands across the sea. Finn was a stone’s throw from the very place Samsa sat.

Perhaps he’d stood in these chambers before. Perhaps he’d walked in the garden at her back. Samsa did not want to love him, or his husband Lord Larys Strong, nor the spineless boy their union had produced, but she wanted to see him. Touch him, even. Find a bit of herself in his sharp, Northern face.

“I’ll be courteous,” Samsa promised after a moment of thought, only half lying. “I won’t say I’m his daughter. I’ll greet him as a stranger. He’ll have nothing to fear from me.”

“He’ll recognize you the moment he lays eyes on you.” Alyx pressed her hand against Samsa’s hip, urging her back towards solid ground. She cupped her cheek in her palm. “You have Albyn’s face. It’s sure to terrify him. And fear makes us do very stupid things.” Her gaze softened. “Come down. I’m sure the Grand Maester will be here any moment. Have you given any thought to Viserys?”

“Some.” Samsa slid to her feet. “Sweetrot seems likely,” she said, “but I highly doubt the king has ever been to Sothoryos. The same with wormbone.” The mystery of the king’s ailment piqued her interest, but in the moment, nothing seemed more dull.

“King’s Landing is a trading hub. You don’t think a sailor could have brought it to him?”

A test. “If it’s that contagious, the entire court would be dead.”

“It’s a kind of necrosis, to be certain,” Alyx replied, sauntering back inside with Samsa at her side. “Something that eats at the mind and body but doesn’t kill quickly. We’ll ask Orwyle when the sickness first started, in truth.”

“Do you truly think we can save him?”

“Ziry kaerīnagon?” Alyx suppressed a laugh. “If anyone can, it will be us.”

The Grand Maester appeared at their door as the sun sank into the sea. Orwyle was a slight man, his small frame shrouded in heavy grey robes, with a thick book pressed under a thin arm. Samsa studied his chain with curious delight as Alyx bid him entry, picking out what metals she could: copper, lead, iron, tin. One link was darker still, laced with pale smokey waves: Valyrian steel. In Arlior Ānogrion, they kept no maester, but plenty would-be initiates and disgraced scholars found solace within their walls. Her father had met his closest friend at the Citadel before their curiosity had them both expelled.

Samsa still dipped her head out of respect, greeting him by title. He in turn named her lady. She wondered if the Alicent would call her the same. Alyx took his hand like he were an old friend and gave him her best smile. More honeyed words. More undeserved idolatry.

Samsa moved to take her leave.

Liquid High Valyrian rang in Samsa’s ears. “And where do you think you’re going?” Alyx had paused her greeting to catch her red handed, going for her sword. She excused herself from Orwyle to pull Samsa aside.

“Jokorigon,” she replied. To explore. “And find Ser Leon.”

“It would serve you best to remain here.”

It would serve you, you mean. As intriguing as the king’s sickness was, Samsa would have plenty of time to study his ailment for the time they were in King’s Landing. Far more interesting was the Red Keep itself, the secrets she could pry from its stone, and the pale-haired prince who had watched her from afar. Her mother, too, if she could find him — but no doubt Finn had heard of her and Alyx’s arrival and had already hidden away like a frightened mouse.

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye,” Samsa promised. “Before the king’s first session tonight.”

“Before supper,” Alyx replied, insistent on the privacy of their ancestor’s tongue. “I suspect Viserys will invite us to his evening meal.”

“Us, or you?”

“Us. You’re my heir, whether he and the queen like it or not. Not my petulant uncle.” Alyx straightened out Samsa’s dress again, tucking stray strands of blond behind her ear. “Change your clothing before supper as well. The king’s children may be there.”

Samsa smiled, subdued, then nodded. “I understand, my lady.” If luck served her, she’d find at least one of them before they dined. If not, well… She’d have to make her best impression at the table.

“If you find Luis with Leon, send him our way.” Alyx cast a glance towards Orwyle. “Walk in stride, kēlitsos.”

Samsa nodded again, took her sword from amongst her things, and gave her polite goodbyes to the Grand Maester. The castle’s evening sigh met her as she left her apartments; scents of yeast and baking bread, spiced wine and roasting meat. She affixed Chimera’s Claw to her belt, grateful that she was now tall enough for it, and set down the hallway. The weight of the blade at her hip brought a special comfort, like a buck growing back its antlers after shedding season.

Distantly, she heard Alyx speaking to Orwyle, petering into silence the further her feet carried her. “Three-and-ten,” she said, “and she thinks she knows everything…”

Her feet carried her to a junction in the castle. Samsa cast her gaze down one hallway and up another, eyeing the burning daylight through window slats carved in the shapes of fire-breathing dragons. She had some time, but not much. Despite the wealth of time Alyx had promised her to do her work, Samsa felt a heat blooming in her chest, restlessness prickling in her legs. There were moons to make nice with princes and lordlings and whoever was brave enough to come her way — but it did not feel that way. This was her chance to earn her name, her proper name, and she had no desire to waste the precious time she had been given. The sooner the realm knew her as the future of House Vesgar, the sooner the stinging humiliation of her father’s death would burn away.

With a hand around the grip of the Claw, thumb tracing the empty eye sockets of the lion’s head pommel, Samsa shut her eyes, took a scent-filled breath, and listened.

She’d tracked rabbits and shadowcats, brought down great stags and gutted them herself; she’d not let one little prince squirm out of her grasp.

[high-summer-rote]

Here is a sample of one of the bingo cards that will be revealed on Friday! I'm still finalizing them, so the above sample will not count. I wanted you to have a sneak peek at what they'll look like. 🎉

There will be THREE cards to pick from. Stick with one card for the whole event. They all have the same prominent characters, but different secondary/tertiary characters.

BINGO is reached with 5 across, down, or diagonal, including the FREE space

Can mix and match fanart or fanfic. (example: Molly fic, Althea art, Kettle fic, Lacey art, Amber Fic)

Fics should be at least 1k words per character. If you want to combine characters from your row into one fic, you may, but each character must have at least 1,000 words dedicated to her in order to count. Otherwise it will only count for the character(s) that meet this minimum.

Art should be a complete illustration (not a sketch or WIP) of each character. Background is not required. They can be separate illustrations, or combined into one as long as each character is distinctly recognizable and given the same level of detail and emphasis in your style. It can be traditional or digital media, but AI is not allowed.

Rare/Niche Female Character must be a female character NOT already named on the grid of the card you chose (but can be a name from a different card).

Same for Trans femme or cis-swapped canon male character

Examples: If a person wants to write that Althea is a trans woman, that does not count for the Trans femme square, because she already has a square. It does count for the Althea square (any canon female character on the card can be a trans woman).

Trans femme of a canon male character examples: Fitz as a trans woman, Wintrow as a femme non-binary trans person. Explores transgender narratives of these characters or explicitly establishes that they are trans.

Cis-swap of a canon male character example: Chade or Regal as cis women and how that might change the story.

FREE square is anything goes as long as you are writing about a woman (or girl) from Realm of the Elderlings.

The AO3 collection will be made available halfway through so folks can start posting at any time after that. This is to avoid some fics being overlooked because so many are being posted at once, and so you can pace out your work.

If you win BINGO, your fics/art will be featured in a spotlight post along with an optional interview!

Questions?

[bloggingboutburgers]

the poem I shared with the friend (I’m not sure if me and his current status, he seems to have a bit going on and stress, and we tried to talk about what I said, but we didn’t really know what to say with us both being neurodivergent and etc and I don’t wanna overshare, infodump, or accidentally repeat the same info a whole buncha times or forget snything,) anyway- here’s the poem! (I hope he don’t ever see that I asked this because I don’t know how it’d make him feel seeing the poem I wrote for him be here ;n;

Title: Happy

You fill me with a warmth and joy that many I used to and still know online filled me with at some point, even if most to all of them are not available anymore, 

You give me a joy much like the rare cheesecake, fry bread , cakes, and many meats

You bring me a smile like how all my favorite teachers in public and current teacher does and did

You bring me a joy and humor that llamas and goats used to, you bring me a happiness that many critters brings me,

Much like rain at night, while I lay cuddling with a pitbull and I daydream myself to sleep, you bring me such a calming feeling that I can’t quit explain, 

When you call me firefly, a bug I once did a brief and poor report on for Science back then, you bring me a joy I can’t quite express, 

You have brought me more joy and calmness than most can or do for me anyone and in a long time, I may be emotionally challenged from life and me, but you help me feel better and distracted from all the rough oceans 

You’ve made me comfortably and happily feel younger in mind, to me you bring me similar joy that chocolate milk, chicken nuggets, eggnog, and puns do 

I worry of telling you this version, for I’m worried if I do, I may drive you off and away, for these feelings are some of the queerest of all, and they aren’t in the platonic plains anymore, they fall somewhere, outside of what society has tried to make of boxes and call binary, to oversimplify….

I think I may have a squish on you, I may want to be your zucchini, but I’m worried I’ll drive you away if I say, “I have queerplatonic feelings for you,”

I’m worried this is fleeting, like a young child’s wedding dreams… I don’t wanna tell you one thing only for it to be short lived, I may of already done this to someone before… when I’m with you, I forget the times I’ve done bad or poor choices, or for lack of better words, “stupid” choices, I hate using the word, but to explain it to you, I’ll willingly use it, because I want to try and be honest with you… ):3 

I’m okay with you and me being friends…

...It's really sweet TwT

I hope you're doing as OK as you can, and best of luck to both of you whatever the circumstances may be!

(...Also tbh, if you ever want me to hide this post or the previous one where you asked if you could share, for privacy's sake, please do feel free to reach out and I will!)

[n0t-evenhere]

I’ve seen a lot of Ray ask but not enough of other characters so I’m gonna ask

1. How would double’s behavior be with a Mc who’s very affectionate , like since childhood. Holding his hand randomly, playing with his hair, following him like a lost puppy, being close to him, etc.

2.Would Haley every match outfits with Mc if they were dating and if so, what type?

3.Imagine a Mc with a “I can fix him” mindset with Luke / Blaze

4. Do you think Miles owns action figures of Binary Star and do you think Ray would stay tf away from Miles for that reason

Welcome, welcome, let’s get to it!

1. A lost puppy, that is exactly where double wants you to be. Utter and complete loyalty. To be able to use you in anyway shape and form. He could hurt but you would come crawling back to him because you are loyal. You are affectionate. He’d say things like “you know I only did that because you needed to learn right?” Or “You know I still love you right?”

You are moldable and can shaped even more into what he wants you to be. In short, you are a lost puppy and you will be trained and treated like one. Even if you don’t see the manipulation tactics, even if you fall for whatever he tells you. You are and will be used for his purpose. I mean…come on, what else are you supposed to be for him. Loyalty is a top notch thing for him, the affection is a happy little add in.

2. Matching outfits, no. Not unless you both have the same style and clothing habits. However, I do think that Haley would (going with a t-shirt example with some band name) you pick your color, and Haley would oil the color for the shirt. A easier way to put it because I may be over complicating it, if you don’t have the same style Haley does, you can get matching t-shirts but Haley’s would be a green and your would be for example purple. Indirect matching.

3. Oh my lanta, let me just tell you, that boy will not be fixed for anything. He likes who he is, he is who he is with fault. (In his mind anyway) the arrogance of this man. To give an answer from his perspective, “you cannot fix what’s not broken.” He’s not broken, he’s perfect as is. You will just emotionally tear yourself apart. Sooner or later, you’ll figure it out. He only loves what’s new and hot. You’ll become old and no longer interesting. You obviously stay even if he “bad” so it’s like, you are fall back. Someone he can go to because you’ll be there.

4. You bed miles has action figures or binary star. Definitely got one of those fully possible ones too! 😂 miles strikes me as the kind of collector who will change poses of the fully articulated figures. Not often maybe once every other week. (To not ruin them.) Ray has seen so many people with figurines. Mostly children with that plastic form of his hero self. Half chewed, or being intensely played with. (You know how kids are) Miles in Rays mind equates to a childish personality. So, it doesn’t surprise him. If MC is friends with miles, Ray will still tick around and only for you. The only thing that will word him out a little is figuring out how intentionally miles takes care of his binary star action figure. Dusting it, keeping it in a glass case, making sure its joints stay smooth.

(An extra thing) I realized I mixed up two of my characters in the last post. I mixed up Ripely and Luke. So, in the last post I said Luke would be doubles sidekick but who I meant was Ripley. The guy that was basically hurt because he wouldn’t give away MC location.

So, let me add on for Luke, let me give an actual answer. Luke/ Blaze would definitely take a villain role in the villain Ray AU, he may even still work with Ray from time to time. However, Luke is an annoyance to Ray and the rest of “The Syndicate” Blaze is a boisterous villain, doing what he wants essentially. Blaze wouldn’t have a tight relationship with Apollo because Apollo in the villain AU becomes reclusive when he ‘quits the NAHA’.

[the-life-of-a-herm]

is it okay for perisex people to use the terms afab transfem and amab transmasc? is there alternative terms that should be used, or none at all? i would love to know lots about this, and i sincerely apologize if the terminology i'm using is incorrect to begin with, i fully welcome corrections.

thank you for your time!

hey! tysm for the Question!

I have been working on this ask since I got it.

I absolutely thing you can be transfem and afab and perisex, or amab and transfem and perisex. Let's get into why.

First off, of course, let's get into the language of it.

AFAB transfem is not an identity label you should use, because AGAB isn't an identity and it's actually counterproductive to centre it in who you are.

The reason why the term exists and is used is for a few different reasons..

A.) Some people don't have the language to describe how they are. I remember when I was a kid people would ask "can I be an AFAB demigirl?" because they didn't know and they didn't have the language.

B.) It's just what people use. It's a way to discuss "a transfem who is afab" shorter, the discoursers use it and it's simply a way to get what your saying across and seen better

C.) A lot of harassment happens in this community because of queercourse and a lot of people feel pressured into disclosing their AGAB otherwise they're "faking" or "infultrating" the community.

Secondly, transfemininity should never have even been defined by transition, your body, etc.

Transfemininity means a trans person who has a feminine gender, uncommonly mistaken for a trans person who presents femininely. (and also doesn't mean 'another term for trans women'.)

That description right there has been for a while the definition and I understand some people have astrix in their head for that but that's not anybodies problem but their own.

Multigendered people, nonbinary people, etc can all fit into this category and be perfectly perisex.

.

I think the idea people need something that seperates them "enough" from their trans identity to fully identify that way is harmful. Being trans does not need strict labels. You cannot box in the queer experience into specific categories. Being trans is about your experience and I think some people need to come to terms with the fact that it may not look the same for everyone.

Some people define their transness by transition. For them, transitioning to something is a part of their identity. These labels are tools to describe a lifetime of experiences.

For others, it's about their SIG never matching up with who they are.

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I have switched in and out several time while writing so let me put it this way as to maintain some facade of an eloquent manner of speaking, I view being trans as something that is more defined by the person who is choosing to use the label rather than a strict definition. Anything other than that won't quite fit right.

This community was not built as a dictionary, everyone will have their own specific life experiences and reasons for identifying as trans and I don't feel like any way you describe it by one specific thing works at all.

(Heres how we would describe transness btw, but it probably needs a bigger post.)

Secondly, I have issues with it being seen as intersex only.

I think defining it as intersex only is kind of othering. Don't get me wrong, the intersex trans experience will hardly ever line up perfectly with perisex trans experiences.

However, I feel like stating intersex as an exception overall feels off to me.. We are not the only people in the community that break the FTM/MTF binary, and I really don't like how othering it is.

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Anyways, switched far too much because of stress while writing this let me put it straight:

• Don't ID as 'afab transfem', though there are reasons you may want to use the wording for tags and such. Just call yourself whatever. Transfem, trans women, who cares.

• Being a trans woman or transfem is not some unicorn gender, you don't need a special bit of parts to ID as either of those things. It's somebody who is trans and uses either of those labels.

People may hate to see it, but it's the truth. Transness is not some binary experience. Being trans is personal to everyon and the reason why one person will ID as transfem compared to another and the experiences with that can be entirely different. That's okay. We don't have to be a monolith.

Do whatever you want anon, if you feel like you fit in some way why not? It's like saying 'therians are only spiritual' to me. Why box in a community that doesn't need to be? Why create definitions that do nothing but exclude? Being trans is an experience, but that doesn't mean all of ours have to be the same.

[mydearneteyam]

Hii could you maybe write something for human! M!reader who comes out as trans to neteyam?

IDENTITY ;; NETEYAM

summary ;; just a few heacanons about reactions, tips, comments and validation from neteyam!

pairing ;; neteyam x human!trans-male!reader (platonic + romantic)

warnings ;; i think there's none ??

word count ;; 0.8k (with bonus)

a/n ;; you didn't specify what type you wanted this (neither hc or os nor platonic or romantic), so I'll do headcanons with these last two because i liked the idea, if there's something you didn't like, please go ahead and tell me!

PLATONIC

✦ Neteyam knew you since probably before the return of the humans. Your parents were scientists in favor of the na'vi and decided to raise you in Pandora in the company of some na'vi children where Neteyam was.

✦ Now, we must make something clear, and that is that in Pandora there are several words that are of human term. And for example, "trans" would be one of these.

✦ Neteyam could tell that you were starting to dress differently, talk differently, but he didn't question anything because he simply respected your space, but when you commented to him how you felt- no, how you identified, he cocked his head to one side.

✦ "That… What does that mean?" but his confused smile only made you imply that he would support you independent of its meaning.

✦ When you explained the term to him, how it was seen on earth and according to what your parents had explained to you (which in a good way they also accepted you the first time you talked to them), he seemed to understand a bit more.

✦ So he began to give you some ideas of clothing to make you feel more attached to the Na'vi culture (if you would like that idea) or simply, helping you to stylize you more, even sometimes trying to accompany you to train to define your body a little more if you wished so.

✦ If I'm not wrong, the culture's clothes are always supposed to be made by friends or family, since they come with a symbolic load and Neteyam as, for now, he is the one who is more informed, has decided to give you from time to time clothes that he thinks would fit you.

✦ In case you wanted to clarify this with others of your friends Neteyam would be the first to correct the feminine terms to masculine.

✦ "He, Loa'k. Reader is he".

✦ In a platonic way, you can expect a lot of support from Neteyam and truth be told, identity is not an issue in his culture and he will do his best to understand you, even asking others how to help you a bit more.

ROMANTIC

✦ Now, in a romantic way, Neteyam takes it a step further.

✦ Yes, the story is the same and when you gave him the comment he questioned what it meant, but quickly and not to worry you, he gave you a hug and put both your foreheads together.

✦ "I don't understand much… but I want to help you feel good in your own skin."

✦ So he looks for answers from some scientists, from his father, from some of your human friends and all to find out how to get you to feel comfortable.

✦ If you want to cut your hair, he will style it. If it was already short, he'll try to decorate it a bit like some of the guys have (BONUS: but Spider and Lo'ak will be there too).

✦ If you want to change your appearance, he'll do his best to cover your chest area and in case you've already done so, he'll remind you to be careful not to hurt yourself.

✦ Interesting fact, but in Frontiers of Pandora, Okul is possibly a non-binary character (Tsu'kiri too) that despite having a female model, has a male voice and I have the hc that there must be some way to alter the testosterone for the na'vis so Neteyam would travel by sea and land looking to know if you could get an avatar (that already has the biological change) or simply, know if there is something to help you in your human form.

✦ His family is quite respectful of you and have stopped treating you with feminine pronouns as soon as you and Neteyam confirmed them (Sometimes Lo'ak gets confused, but apologizes as if he shot you in the stomach) and although in the village there may always be someone who questions you, Neteyam will jump to defend you as a human and as a man.

✦ Finally, as a partner Neteyam is not much different from his platonic version, but I can tell you that he will love you unconditionally and will do his best to make sure that the way you see yourself is not a hindrance in your daily life.

BONUS ;;

"Wow, what about this handsome guy, is he busy?" you heard Neteyam's voice entering the lab. You turned around with an amused look and raised your head, looking him in the eyes.

"Just busy trying to convince Norm to get Spider and me Avatars" you admitted, giving a sigh as you folded your arms. He noticed that despite the smile you gave him, you didn't seem to look so good and he knelt down, kissing your cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you wanted to, but your throat wouldn't give words, so he hugged you. His body hid yours lovingly, as if you were a crystal about to break, as if you were the last precious stone in all of Pandora.

"Maybe they can't get an avatar yet. But we all know who you are. Your personality, your essence, your identity… none of that is based on your body. I see you, my love."

a/n² ;; i THINK i understood what you meant, so i tried to do the best i could. although i am from the trans umbrella as a gender fluid person, i personally am very oblivious to certain behaviors that i know other people may have, but I hope you liked it, if there's something you didn't like, please tell me, love ¡!

[official-megumin]

ngl being both a trans woman and intersex kinda fucking sucks.

Because you end in this intersection of both transmisogyny and heavy intersexism.

I can't really look to either the wider transfem community because intersexism is rampant there, but at the same time in intersex communities, AFAB intersex voices just seem so much loud and for AMAB intersex voices to be ignored.

I have come across two other AMAB intersex people on here, and both of them are very quiet about it, I haven't asked why. But I would guess it's because of how we're generally treated.

So even with the prominent intersex voices on here, you'll see the terms TME and TMA be condemned without nuance.

Because yea obviously they don't cover the wide spectrum that is human sex, but proveably it still is very very useful, because even in intersex spaces, transfems are smothered and not given space to talk. I have come across a lot of AFAB intersex people very in favor of AFAB people to be able to use trans fem as a label, and when it's used by specifically intersex AFAB people, I very much do not mind.

But where my opinion tends to differ, is that I do not think perisex AFAB people should use it.

I have only met one outspoken intersex woman on here, and still due to being afab. She was not barred needed access to gynocological care like I have been. So the clearly there are still differences in how we experience and interact with the world, because the world does not accept that sex isn't binary. It will latch on to the most minute differences to label us.

So with me being outwardly male, despite likely having full internal female sex organs, and developing classically female. I was still denied womanhood in ways that AFAB intersex people despite still very much being denied womanhood, don't experience.

I have many times trying to voice my opinions and feelings of overreach as an intersex trans woman, and I've always been ignored in favor of intersex people who haven't experienced being expected to be male.

And for those experiences I have been labelled a transmedicalist. Despite making it very clear that I don't care at all how you transition.

I simply want people to understand that some words have long histories that can't and shouldn't just be waved away. It can't be right that us telling you that you're overstepping boundaries and disrespecting us, is met with accusations of hate.

Just please give us space to voice our frustrations and let us talk about being stepped over, listen to us.

I just want one damn space I can feel understood and listened to in. Is that too much to ask for?