#but once i was far enough in to realize

[bonefall]

I’m rereading Po3 and despite its flaws I really enjoyed the introduction to the three. Jaykit isn’t mentioned to be blind in the first few chapters and instead they chose to show how much MORE capable he is compared to his littermates; until at the end of chapter 3, he brings up his blindness on his own. It makes forcing him to be a medicine cat SO much more frustrating because it really feels like they’re setting him up to be a warrior and choose his own fate (note i haven’t finished the reread this is just my first impression)

I like how you seem to take that path in BB regardless! It makes his arc so much more enjoyable

His arc in canon is super frustrating because he's such an independent character who clearly wants to make his own decisions in life, but then he just gets shoved into the medcat den. I LIKE that he ultimately goes there and that he enjoys it; but it was still really fucked up that they stripped away his autonomy in the process.

Re: they are not real, they are writing choices. Taking away the choices a disabled character can make over their own life, forcing them into a celibate nun role, and then going "awwwww dont worry see? he likes it! This was the best thing for him :)" was fucked up.

And imo it didn't have to be that way! You wouldn't have to go the FULL route I did with big changes, he could just be more involved in the descision to stop being a warrior apprentice and it would be fine. Minor change that would make a world of difference.

I do also have to interject to say though... blindness should really not be an extremely severe impairment for a ThunderClan cat.

I'm dead serious.

Whiskers are built-in sensors that tell you the exact position of everything within several inches of your head, ears swerve to pick up sound, and the jacobson's organ provides a sense of smell so keen that I have an entire Clanmew expansion draft because I needed to make WORDS describing the power of this sense that humans do not have. I cannot stress enough how delicate their other senses are, felines do not rely on their sight like primates do

ThunderClan lives in a mixed-oak woodland, where sight is already often obscured by foliage, objects are close together (for whiskers to feel), and nearly every movement makes noise against the leaf litter. RiverClan and (moor-running) WindClan cats would have a harder time with this disability than Thunder or Shadow.

Cat sight SUCKS to begin with. It sucks BADDD. They don't have color vision, they're significantly nearsighted, and they can't track up-and-down movements well. WC doesn't write realistic cats (more like small fuzzy people really) and I also work with more humanesque eyesight, but the only thing Jay should really lose is an ability to rapidly track a small animal swerving fast. Blind cats are often still excellent hunters in spite of that!

So it's an extra big waste that they railroaded him into a position he didn't choose, saying he couldn't be a warrior. This is the perfect disability to write, if you want to explore how ableism can impact the characters in this society who ARE legitimately still capable of nearly full independence, but still need to find accommodations for what they can't do.

In the same arc they're doing the dumb Cinder Reincarnation Plotline, no less!! Where SHE is also feeling like she has no choice over her "destiny," and gets a conflict over a potentially disabling injury

"Oh nooo if cinderpaw breaks her leg she wont be a warrior!"

"What the f-- Im Jaypaw and im reporting live from the scene where a Category 1 Idiot Moment is taking place. Woman breaks leg, suddenly everyone believes she is a horse, more at 11."

One of these days I should really make "herb guides" just covering how various sensory disabilities impact the lives of Clan cats and some tips for writing them as warriors, especially between Clans. Stuff you wouldn't usually consider, like how much noise deaf cats tend to make, how RiverClan would get a ton of sinus infections and lose their sense of smell, being blind in Sky vs Thunder, etc.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Why is Erik taking a shower and is fully prepared to fight naked in that panel 😭

my man turning into a baby is a typical tuesday activity but the second he wanna little naked shower fight NOW its suspicious 🤨

[daisyofwaterdeep]

PLEEEEEEASE WRITE MEAN DOM VOSS you could give him an alien dick. Whatever you want. The stars are hardly the limit

nyohoho thank you for this request, i was losing my mind while writing it (★‿★)

dom!Voss/cisfem!Reader

CW: face fucking, rough sex, pain, dom/sub, paid sex, alien genitalia

________

-you go to Sharess' Caress with the express purpose of getting laid. After a few bad dates, you're desperate to forget yourself for a bit

-You had never seen a githyanki before, but you know enough about them to know what the man is when you see him

-He's not drinking, not chatting. Just standing there, sharp copper eyes silently observing the patrons around him

-If he's not here to socialize, then surely he's here as a worker...right?

-You approach him, feeling so small and vulnerable under his intense gaze. You stumble over your words as you ask him if he's currently available to provide...services

-Voss is weary when a human approaches him, but as she blushes and stutters out her words, Voss finds himself feeling...something. He should be offended that she thought he was a common prostitute, that a flimsy istik would think they could approach him so casually for something so sordid

-But instead, he decides that this could be beneficial for him. Clearing his mind with a night of vigorous intercourse could be advantageous, and acquiring some funds at the same time? Tactically speaking, it's quite a good situation

-And, he has to admit, breaking a pretty human like you is an appealing thought

-He leans close to your ear, his breath surprisingly cool against your skin

-"Do you know what you're getting yourself into, little girl?"

-You don't, not at all, and the chilled, intimate tone of his voice makes you even more uncertain. But Gods, you can smell him like this, metal and sweat and something distinctly vicious, strong...it makes your stomach drop and your skin break out in chills. You nod

-Voss goes to the front counter, and the next thing you know, you're alone in a rented room with him

-He walks toward the center of the room, and you can hear the sound of buckles and leather moving as his arms work in front of him. The leather guard around his hips falls to the ground before he turns back to you. His lithe green thighs are exposed, and you can see his underwear-- a strappy black number that just barely covers his essentials

-"Come."

-You walk forward and stop in front of him

-"Kneel."

-You obey. With him right in front of you like this, you can really smell him. Sweat, spent adrenaline, and that undefinable but unmissable scent of masculinity. His copper eyes command your undivided attention as he pulls at a black leather strap, unraveling his underwear and releasing his cock

-It's as long and lean as the rest of him, a slightly darker shade than his body with black mirrored spots along the thickest point of his base that scatter into a larger pattern across his hips. The tip is tapered to a fleshy point, and you can see his cockslit is longer and deeper than a human's, about three centimeters starting from his tip and going along the top of his length. With it's position, his precum oozes into a small pool created by his puffy slit, making your mouth water

-You expect another command-- something as short and succinct as the others, 'suck' or 'open' or maybe even 'worship it', but instead, strong fingers wrap around the back of your head before pulling your hair tightly and forcing you forward. You have no other choice but to open and take him in

-Much like his breath, his cock is surprisingly cool. And the taste of his precum is also different than what you know-- it has the same salty base, but there's a metallic tang to it, almost making it sour. You wonder if it's a Githyanki thing, or a him thing

-You roll your tongue around the tapered tip, lapping at the long, swollen slit and dipping into it as far as you can. You look up at him as you do so, wondering if his expression will change. He's watching you, but he looks exactly the same-- still hard, focused, indiscernable. Either he's used to having his dick sucked, or he's well trained in keeping his composure. You wonder which it is.

-Voss lets you have your fun for a minute or so. When you had seen his dick, it was clear that he was your first Githyanki. In fairness, he would be surprised if you had taken one before-- Githyanki don't make habits of sleeping with Istik. He lets you explore him, mouth meltingly hot against his length as your tongue prods and laps and explores. Pleasant heat fills his stomach, but it's not enough....he needs more

-Without warning, he bucks his hips into your mouth, forcing his length to the back of your throat. You gag harshly, hands going up to grip at his thighs, but he's so much stronger than you. All you can do is fight to not vomit as he begins thrusting fast and vicious into your mouth. He uses the hand in your hair to bob your head in time with his humping, and all you can do is gurgle out exclamations that get lost in the sloppy sounds of your saliva being pushed deep in your throat. Even as tears cloud your vision and drool runs down your chin, the man still looks completely unperturbed. If it weren't for his hard cock assaulting you, you would think that he wasn't even turned on

-But Voss is turned on, very much so. The way you immediately crumble into tears and choked noises arouses him. You're just so weak, but even if you're in distress, you don't try to fight him. You could easily sink your teeth into his cock, you could scratch at his thighs, and yet you take him. You want to be dominated by him, to please him, and he's happy to oblige

-When he finally pulls your head back, you're an absolute mess-- gasping for air, coughing, cheeks ruddy and tear-streaked. He slaps his drool-slicked cock against your cheek, face still completely unreadable as he looks down at you

-"Undress."

-You obey with shaky limbs as he stands there watching. He doesn't move to take anything off, but you suppose he doesn't need to-- this isn't about exploring bodies, about intimacy. His spit-slick cock is out, and that's all he needs

-As soon as you step out of your underwear, a strong hand grabs you by the arm and spins you around. Cold armor presses into your back, and you feel his cock against the cleft of your ass. That cool breath is at your ear again

-"You'll take what I give you. Understood?"

-You nod, body jittery and heart hammering. With how severe the man is, you wonder if the forceful words are as close to a consent check as he's capable

-Before you've even finished nodding, a strong hand wraps around your thigh and lifts it, making you gasp and lean back into the Githyanki for balance as you're left standing on one foot

-And then he's in you. There's no playful sliding against your entrance, no buildup to the big moment--he just enters you with a brutal jerk of his hips, his full length slamming inside and stretching you full with a searing pain

-You choke out a wounded noise that quickly rises into a slew of whimpers as he begins fucking you with all the blind need of a dog mounting it's bitch. The curve of his metal armor bites into your skin and his nails dig deeply into your soft flesh as his breaths pick up against your ear, the smallest shiver of a groan under his heavy exhales

-"Are you this wet from tasting my cock?" There's a strain to his voice, the first betrayal of just how much this is affecting him, "Are you so pathetic, ah, that you desire to be used like this?" He growls low in his throat, "To be dominated?"

-You can hardly understand what he's breathing against your neck-- it's all you can do to not topple over and cry with just how overwhelming it all is. The thick slide of his cock, again and again, as deep as it can go, as fast and as hard as it can go. It hurts, it burns, but it also feels fucking phenomenal. This, right now, is what the word 'fucking' was invented for. Because this isn't sex--this is animalistic, brutal, savage fucking

-A particularly deep plunge has his pointed cock tip pressing against your cervix and the sudden bolt of pain turns your stomach and makes you cry out, the knee keeping you standing giving out

-Rather then catch you, the Githyanki releases your thigh and lets you crumble to the floor. Your pussy aches and clenches around nothing as you catch your breath, grateful for the opportunity to to collect yourself

-But it's short lived, because those strong hands are shoving your face down and forcing you on your knees, ass up, and then he's inside you again

-The new angle lets him pound you harder and faster, a feat you didn't think was possible. All you can do is hiccup out pathetic noises as your body takes the rough impact of his hips again and again, your pussy clenching around his cock and drawing pleased groans from the man

-The new angle also has his cock practically beating into your g-spot. Any pain you might feel--the floor grinding into your knees, your cheek smashed against the wood, his nails viciously raking down your back--none of it matters in the face of the pleasure that's assaulting you in thick, overwhelming waves

-Your orgasm comes as a surprise to you--it happens all at once, your throat constricted around a half shout as your entire body locks up and shakes. You can feel your pussy tighten around his cock and he hisses in response, hips forgoing their full-length thrusts for quick, shallow ones

-He begins talking, his voice a rushed, low whine as he speaks in his mother tongue. You have no idea what he's saying, but can feel the weight of the words, the way he stresses syllables with particularly rough thrusts, the way he fluctuates between whispers and groans as he speaks

-He thrusts once more into you before stilling, pressing the full weight of himself against your ass, burying himself as deep as he can as you feel heat flood inside you. As tired as your body is, you still dutifully clench around him, milking him through his orgasm as he lets out a long, satisfied moan

-Even though he's surely sensitive, he pumps himself a few more times inside of you to chase the last dregs of his climax before finally pulling out. You can feel his semen and your juices dribbling from your abused cunt and down your thighs

-Now that the hard edge of desire has subsided, you're not sure what's going to happen. You sit up, embarrassed to find your cheek sticky with drool. You wipe at it as you turn around to look at him. Even though he definitely got heated, you didn't get to see his face during any of it. Sadly though, he's still as inscutable as ever, looking at you levelly.

-You mumble out something about getting his money as you look around the floor for your discarded clothes, but he grabs your wrist and raises an eyebrow

-"Did I say I was finished with you?" He looks over your bare body cursorily before pulling the both of you to your feet. "We're done when I say we're done."

-It's then that you notice that his cock is still stiff-- once again, you don't know if it's a Githyanki thing, or if this man is just incredible

-Either way, you don't complain as you're dragged over to the bed for another round

[silvokrent]

Nobody asked, but here's a snippet from an Elden Ring fic that I've been working on.

On one of their return visits to Leyndell, an idea occurred to Vyke. The dragons were the first Elden Lords. It’s their power that governed this world at its inception. Perhaps the Order has forgotten their absence. Tendrils of electricity crackled at the spear tip, as he stood before the thorns. Let us reacquaint them. Only later, as Vyke perched on the dais steps, a searing pain climbing up his arm, did he have his answer. “Witless, insolent martyr,” Morgott hissed. There was a familiar comfort in the litany of insults muttered under his breath, in between snippets of incantation. “Bereft of anything approximating sense. What madness compelled thee?” “A theory,” Vyke said, because desperation didn’t capture the same air of scholarly rigor. “I didn't think it would rebuff me as it did.” Morgott chose not to dignify that with an answer, although his brow furrowed—in concentration, or annoyance. Perhaps some quantity of both. More golden motes suffused the empty chamber as he spoke them into existence, giving the Erdtree Sanctuary a luminous aura. Like stray embers, drifting from a fire, before winking out one by one. Vyke’s teeth clenched as the magic washed over him, and in spite of himself, he found it difficult to look away. Under the pulse of amber light, skin knitted itself back together along the interstice. Blisters scabbing at unnatural speeds. The fractal burns lost some of the intensity in their color, but didn’t fully fade, as the sensation ebbed. Abruptly, the grip that had been steadying his arm released him. “There. For all the good it will do thee.” His shoulders hunched as he scowled down at his handiwork. “That scar is beyond my mending. Thou willst bear it in perpetuity.” Vyke inspected the raised lines branching across his skin. The residual pain had faded to a dull ache, and he exhaled silently. “Thank you for tending to—” “Of course, it would have been avoided altogether, hadst thou a shred of reason.” Vyke jerked back as the glowering face was thrust nearly into his. The sudden proximity, and the impropriety of it, were either ignored or beyond his care at the moment. Not all that surprising, since he was preoccupied with his own self-righteousness. “The thorns repel all manner of attack in equal measure. What didst thou think would happen when thou blasted it with lightning?” “I thought I might die and be spared another one of your lectures.” It was an irreverent thing to say to a demigod, let alone a scion of the Golden Lineage. But the aftereffects of the incantation had left him feeling lightheaded. His eyes drifted to the curtain of vines overhead, cascading in verdant arabesques, so that he didn’t have to meet his ornery stare. “At least we now know it doesn’t work.” Something about the absurd matter-of-factness appeared to mollify him. That, or the dissonance of Vyke's answer, with the precipitating event, had convinced him that lecturing was pointless. Which was why it startled Vyke when a calloused hand shot forward, and roughly seized his chin—and suddenly, he was forced to meet his gaze. Under the clinical scrutiny, he felt dissected. An insect with its wings pulled off. Whatever Morgott had been searching for, he either didn’t find it, or he was disappointed by what he did. The viselike fingers didn’t relent as he turned toward the woman observing nearby, arms folded over each other with practiced indifference. “Didst thou counsel him toward this lunacy, maiden?” She peered out from beneath the ornate fillet, the lacework rendering her a portrait framed in powdered snow. “I take credit for his achievements, not his follies,” she said. The faintest amusement crept into her voice. Then, more soberly, she continued. “I neither advised nor discouraged him, my lord. With the battery of tests we’ve already run, it seemed inevitable. What harm was there in trying?” The single, golden eye turned downward, toward the fractal pattern radiating across Vyke's skin. "What harm indeed."

His momentary inattention had loosened his grip, and Vyke extricated himself from it. He reclined a little against the steps, grateful for the support of the marble. “There’s not much point in proceeding with caution,” Vyke said. Not when resurrection had already turned his body into a thanatotic constellation of scars. If Vyke wanted, he could unfasten his other vambrace and show him the countless pale lines crisscrossing his skin. The physical memory of lacerations. Or shed the hauberk under his armor—the steel ringlets a pale imitation of the Great Runes humming below his chest—and reveal the shallow pits in his abdomen left by crossbolts. It was difficult to say if there was any part of him not marred, not touched in some way, by the endless cycle. His flesh was a mosaic of death. A small wonder, that self-preservation now felt antithetical.  Vyke had hoped the pragmatism would appeal to Morgott. Reassure him, maybe. He didn’t intend for Morgott’s expression to darken. His eye closed, and he breathed out a noise like loose parchment. “Maiden, kindly fetch him some water. There’s an ewer in my study.” She didn’t contest the dismissal. With a polite bow, she departed, her robes scattering erdleaves across the hallowed floor.

The fic this was taken from, Far Beyond the Sundown, is my interpretation of Vyke after he was brought back Tarnished. I'm a huge fan of @redzombie's headcanon that Vyke and Morgott knew each other. (And that Vyke was the only Tarnished that Morgott endorsed to become Elden Lord, way back when. Their alliance was kept a secret—especially after The Incident.)

[orcelito]

Actually, on the topic of the baby fever. God it's so frustrating. Bc when I was like 14 ish I was Adamant that I never ever wanted kids. And my dad said smth around the lines of "that'll likely change" (probably from his own experience with this) and I was like NO. it WONT.

And then eventually, age 21-22 ish, I admitted that Okay, I still don't want to have my own kids, but someday maybe I'll adopt...

And Now, 27 years old, I got the general baby fever on occasion. It Did fucking change. And I don't know if I actually WILL bother with having my own kid (I still don't want to go through the hassle and massive body changes). But god. I do see a fucking baby and feel that stab of longing. It's almost like my damned hormones betrayed me or smth. Maddening!

I shall simply write fanfic about it.

[vhvrs]

i talk abt/ draw summer so little but she is like. my fav fav i love her sooo much n i love the specific niche she presents to the story that i rarely ever see in media but also rnm does a LOT of casual things u rarely see in long form media I LOVE HER!!!!!!!

[keeps-ache]

i don't wanna take over the world, it sounds like a lot. but you know, laying siege to a golf course sounds really nice sometimes

[twpsyn-who]

Today on "Another JeanMarco Soulmate AU absolutely no one asked for" I present to you -

Soulmate AU in which you stop seeing colors when your soulmate dies, the only exception being your soulmate. Now cue to Jean who just found Marco's, his best friend's, body. And you know, there's the shock of finding out Marco's dead. The pain and confusion and guilt. But there's also the revelation, because despite everything he can still see Marco like nothing took place at all- yes, half of his face is missing and his body is straight up lifeless, but Jean can still make out the color of his eye ; see that light shade of brown perfectly, remember all the times he has found himself looking at them while listening to Marco talk. He can still make out the colors of his uniform, see the same shade of black his hair has always had, practically see. Despite being dead, Marco was the only piece of color left in his life.

And there's denial for a moment because there's no way Marco was his soulmate. But that goes away fast, getting replaced by guilt. By the fact that he hasn't been there to save him, that Marco has to die all alone without anyone being there for him.

And that was worse than the simple fact that he could no longer see colors ; because Marco was there when Jean needed him, but he failed to do the same. And not only he lost his best friend that day, but his other half too.

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Yeah, you should only create for yourself, but if I'm putting it out there I would like to know that I'm not just endlessly shouting into the void

[gemharvest]

Need to get on top of whatever dumb fucking inferiority complex I got going on I'm tired of looking at everything about myself and going "Wow I am really sub-par." I know it's 2am but this isn't the midnight thoughts talking this is a fucking persistent curse throughout my day.

[yoojinluv]

[caliboron]

I have such a hard time watching cartoons/tv shows because it feels like reading, like I have to go back and re-read a paragraph because my brain didn’t actually take it in or process it at all. It often feels like I need to be watching harder, or like I’m somehow watching it wrong. To truly get all the information and gags and background stuff I feel like I need to watch it so many times for it to stick, but then I end up watching the first few episodes and quitting. I just have to tell myself the whole time I’m watching a show that I got the information and I’m good to keep going, otherwise I’ll never finish any show I watch

[townofcrosshollow]

Idk man if you're constantly talking about your crushing loneliness and feelings of being ostracised and left out when you ostensibly have a bunch of friends around you then maybe the feelings of loneliness aren't the problem there

[fallen-for-the-stars]

Rule number 1!

Always be your biggest supporter, it may be easier said then done for most people, but trust me when I tell you it’s important, relying on the support of others affects your mental health!

[aromanticasterisms]

do you ev. do you ever. think about. head in hands