#like i know thats why this is happening but i never feel like im allowed to say i experience racism cause i look white

[angel---eater]

i truly have no tolerance for this fandom shittin on random fans personal trans headcanons. someone saw themselves and their experience in this character, isnt that beautiful? why dont you mind your business and focus on your own fan stuff? wouldnt that make you happier? someones headcanon doesnt negate yours. what the fuck is wrong with yall. its playing make believe x2. its just a headcanon. real life trans folks are in active danger right now and some of yall are wasting all your energy abusing others over which pronoun set figments of someone elses imagination 'should' be using

[mydr3aminvi0let]

i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[jupitercl0uds]

suddenly upset because when i was about 8 and i pictured/drew my future self it always looked like this

im not upset that i know ill never look like that. im upset because i was so obsessed with looking like that and i wanted to do so by 12.

my skin was darker than everyone in my class. not by much at all, but i still hated it. i'd insist it was 'just a tan' (even in the dark, cold british north) and that it'd go away eventually. maybe i was just a bit dirty and if i washed it enough it would go away. i used to wish i could peel of the entire top layer of my skin to reveal super pale skin, so pale that you could see every vain and the white of my bones.

and hair has always been a big thing for me. ever since i was little.

when i was 4, i used to have all sorts of proper afro hairstyles. i distinctly remember having afro puffs a lot when i was in nursery or reception. my hair type slowly changed to type 3 in like y1 or something. afro puffs turned to bunches, but then i decided i didn't like them and changed to plaits.

from reception way up until year 8, that's what i had. plaits, sometimes buns. and all that time, i wished for it to be straighter, more fair. the ends of my plaits always curled and i hated it. i'd pull on them, but it wouldn't work. it still curled. i remember being 6 and waiting in the school lunch line. i watched all the girls tie little plaits in the end of their plaits. they would literally tie knots with their hair. and it was so shiny and smooth. and they would take out their plaits and brush their hair and have completely different hairstyles. i tried to join in. when they combed their fingers through my hair and tried to style it, all i heard was 'oooh... er... i don't know how.'

i remember before all that, when i was a toddler, when i pictured my future self, i imagined a slightly fatter, slightly more muscular version of the woman from ratatouille. i don't look like her in terms of my face, but if you straightened my hair and bulked my up a bit, actually, yeah, i do kinda look like that. i dunno how i guessed i'd look like that, i was so young that all my facial features were all smooshed together, my eyes were giant and lower on my face and i was the normal amount of chubby for a toddler.

maybe if i were 10 years younger, and now i was the 5 y/o, things would be different. maybe all the girls would know what to do to help me play hairdressers as the customer. i doubt it, but i hope so. the only thing i can really think to end this with is happy black history month

[opal-owl-flight]

I didnt expect to see Octavio in the Grandfest...and neither did 3, for that matter.

In my interp of the lore, Inkadia is aware of who he is. 3 and the platoon have been fighting for years with the Inkadian powers that be to recognize Octaria as a legitimate nation, for it to be held in equal regard.

That day finally came on the Grandfest. Or at least, the beginnings of it, anyway.

More on the two's convo below!

"Hm! |...Sir Octavio! Im...surprised to see you here.|"

"What. You think Octaria doesnt deserve to celebrate the biggest event in the continent alongside you squits?"

"|No! No! Im...|" they chuckle, a smile breaking across ther face. "|...glad to see that you made it!

But I dont remember arranging a pass for you...|"

"Aah. Well. Your old man pulled some strings. That, and the Inkadian and Splatlandian powers that be invited me themself."

Now 3s surprised. "|...Really?|"

"Mhm. I brought the dome-dwellers up here with me. Look around! Didnt you notice them in your matches?"

Are they dreaming?

They never noticed them at all. It wasnt even like there was much of a difference. For months there have been an increase of migrators and visitors. Allowed to turf. Allowed to stay. Allowed to...

Live in the sunshine.

They stagger, which made the Octarian king hold out a tentacle to steady them. "You alright, bucko?"

3 nods. "|A-a little overwhelmed, thats all.

All those patrols. All those deserters I helped to assimilate. All that struggle they had to go through to escape Octaria-

And now, its just...so...|"

"Easy?"

3 nods again, silently.

"Mmmm. I'll admit though, not everyone is keen on just letting people explore. Not everyone was keen on coming up here for this festival, either.

...too much, has happened for them to trust Inkadia again."

3 hangs their head low. He held their chin and made them look up again.

"...But you. You and your platoon of hooligans. Youve been changing that. You are Inkadians that went the extra mile in understanding us. Listening to us, respecting our decisions. Allowing us to rule our nation as we wished.

It means...a lot. More than you know.

To the point where even those who dont trust Inkadia are at least respecting it from a distance now."

The conversation is cut short by a couple of young Inkfish kids.

"Oaah...its the Octarian king!"

"Hes REAL!!!"

"Of course Im real, squirts! Who'dya think leads all the Octarians?"

"Yeah!!" squeaks another kid, who waddles closer. "Our king is so nice! He brought us up here to play!!"

"Woaah, really?"

"Mhm." He grunts. "Everyone deserves the sunshine."

The kids eyes all shine. Theyve had ex-Octarian friends who spoke much kinder words about the king. It was easy for them to accept the fact that hes just there, grinding wasabi peacefully. Talking to the Inkfish who wants merch. Having generally gruff but...daresay, gentle vibes.

Octavio grunts out a chuckle. "Are you enjoying the surface, little one?"

"VERY!! I made new friends!! The sun feels so warm, ah!! The music! The music!! Oh, so wonderful!!!"

3 smiles again...

"Oooh... wait, I can finally ask!!" squeaks one of the kids. "Mister king, sir! Did you really fight someone called Agent 3???"

3s smile becomes a nervous one. Octavio picks that up immediately.

"Why yes. Little hooligan, that one. Ack! Gave me a headache like nothing else!"

"Did they convince you? To be good now?"

"Mh. Its a little more complicated than that, kiddoes. But I..." he sighs. "...I guess, they did."

"Wooow!!"

"So cool...I wish I could meet them!!"

"Well..."

Octavio sees, from the corner of his eye, 3 making the subtlest movement of shaking their head.

"Its said...that theyre one of the top players in the leagues. If you look hard enough, youll find em."

The Octarian kid looks straight at 3, knowingly. The two other kids notice -- and look at the golden badge they hung around their neck.

"Oh! Oh! Youre a top player, right?"

"Do you think youve met them?"

Octavio is doing EVERYTHING he can to not laugh.

"|...Im not sure. Im not exactly sure what to look for.|"

"Ill help your search, all of you." Octavio grunts again. "What exactly to look for."

3 looks at him, eyebrow raised.

"Theyre ruthless on the field. Whether it be a real fight, or in the leagues. They think on their feet, move faster than most eyes can register.

But underneath that cold efficiency...

Is one of the gentlest, most understanding squids I know."

3s expression changed from nervous to...comfort? Theyre not sure what it is, but its warm.

"Watch for a player who goes out of their way to be nice to kids and beginners. One who's a good sport in the cutthroat top leagues. One who's willing to share their battle tech to anyone, something that most top players keep under wraps.

One who's motivated to help you become the best version of yourself.

No matter how long it takes."

Octavio sees 3s shoulders relax a bit. He smiles.

"Yeah, I may have fought them a lot, back in the day. But now, Id really rather think of them as a friend."

The kids start bickering about which player it could be. The Octarian kid already knew. Shes seen them before, after all. She points at them now.

"Hehee! Maybe you should try looking in a mirror, miss. That sounds a lot like you!"

The other kids stop bickering and take a closer look.

"Huh?? Them? Hmmm...now that you say it-"

"Shes right!!! Its right in front of us!! FOR3VRFRSH! Agent 3!!!"

Octavio grinds one of his wasabi sticks a little harsher on the table to get their attention. "Kids, kids! Remember what the legend says!"

That confirms it!! They shush each other, but are still sqealing quietly. They look up at 3 again, the new info putting the top player in a different light. They threw a glance at Octavio before squatting down to their level.

"Yes," they rasp. "Me and the king...were more friends now...than enemies. Time...passes. People...change.

Remember that, okay?"

"Yes miss! We'll remember!!"

They wink. "Good...now...Stay Forever Fresh!"

Octavio looks on, leaning slightly to whisper to the floating squid jerky next to him.

"You did good with this one, Cuttlefish."

He says nothing, like during this whole conversation. One thought was in his head.

He didnt do that. That...was all 3. They were better than he ever was. He only wished...

He didnt push them as hard as he did.

----------

HOO BOY THATS A DOOZY OF A READ. I didnt PLAN for the beginnings of the acceptance of Octaria to come this early but Nintendo gave me material!! A lot of this is still semi-rough so forgive me if the pacing is whack. I just had to make and write something!!

[yothangie]

First date?!… HELL NO

Genre: dad san, husband san, overprotective dad, teenage daughter, angst, fluff at the end

Summary: Your daughter (15) gets asked out, her first date. San doesn’t like it, he doesn’t approve, he is in overprotective dad mode.

Wrd cnt: idk i lost count 😭

Join the taglist Dad ateez Masterlist

"mom guess what" your daughter enters the house.

"remember the guy i told you about"

"i remember you telling me about 2 guys" you replied

"im talking about the guy that dances at dads studio" she clarifies

you nod your head along, pretending that you remember who the guy is.

"anyways, before class ended he asked me out on a date" your daughter squealed.

"oh thats nice, does your dad know? since the boy is from his studio" you asked.

"god no, he cannot know so please don't tell him" she plead

"you know he's gonna find out eventually and he's not gonna be happy" you said

"he's not gonna be happy regardless, he scares all the guys that go near him" she pouts

"I can't be friends with uncle Yunhos son cause dad glares at him"

you let out a small laugh as your daughter pouts.

“you should go freshen up before your dad gets back” you said

your daughter rushes up to her room knowing her dad takes forever in the shower.

———

After a few minutes your husband San walks through the door, a little tense that usual.

“is everything okay?” you said

he sighs and leans over the counter.

“i heard a little rumor at the studio” he starts

You had a feeling what the ‘rumor’ was but you didnt want to give anything away

“what rumor did you here” you asked

“funny rumor, that one of my advanced students asked out MY daughter on a date” he said he almost sounded offended.

“why is that funny” you questioned

“it’s funny because she knows she’s not allowed to date and apparently she said yes”

“did she happen to say anything to you by any chance” he asked

you tried your best to not make it seem obvious but San has known you for years he was quick to catch on.

“no she didn’t” you quickly said.

“are you sure” he raised an eyebrow.

“yeah, she just came and told me about her routine and went to go wash off”

“liar!” he said

“she didn’t do any routines today she practiced her tumbling and tricks”

you looked away knowing you messed up, you pretended you needed something to do in the kitchen.

“she told you didn’t she” san followed you.

he grabbed your arm turning you around, making some heavy eye contact.

“you know i don’t like it when you lie to me” he said

you bite your lip full of nerves, you didn’t want to throw your daughter under the bus.

“yes mom knows and it’s not a rumor”

you both looked over and see your daughter sitting at the table. San let’s go of you and walks over to your daughter.

“so you did get asked out” San said

“i did and i told him yes” your daughter said

“well tomorrow tell him no”

“i’m not, im going out with him” she stands up

“no you’re not, I’m not allowing you” san says crosses his arms

“are you serious?”

“yes im serious and that’s final” san sternly says

“you never let me do anything, you put me in a all girls class, i can’t be friends with uncle yunhos son cause you’re always glaring at him, i can’t even go out with my friends, hell they don’t even ask anymore cause they know you won’t let me i just want to live my life without having you be overprotective all the time” she snaps and storms off to her room.

—

“was i too harsh” San turns to you.

“a little” you replied

“was she right though” he mumbled

“kinda in a way” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“like what”

“well, umm everything” you said

“you can be very overprotective at times, it can sometimes make her sad”

“do i make her sad” san pouts

“you know she tells me everything right”

San slumps on your shoulder, letting out a little whine.

“i just want to protect her, i never want to see her sad and heartbroken” he said

“i know but she’s growing up and eventually she’s gonna have to experience all this” you said

“what do i do? i made my princess sad”

you pulled san away from you, turning him around and pushing him towards your daughters room.

“go talk and apologize to her, that’s all she wants” you advised.

San takes a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“princess can i come in” he says

the silence on the other side scares him, he looks over at you not knowing if he should go in or not, you signaled him to open the door and go in.

He does just that and sees his daughter curled up on her bed facing the wall, he moves closer and sits on the bed.

Your daughter sniffles a bit before turning to see her dad sitting up a bit.

One thing San hated was seeing his precious daughter cry, it’s even worse cause he was the reason for these tears.

“I’m sorry” he engulfed her in hug

“i didn’t realize how overprotective i was until you snapped”

“i’m sorry i snapped at you” you daughter said.

“don’t apologize, you have every right to” San wipes her tears.

“it just hurts to see you grow up, i didn’t think it would be this fast”

“does that mean you’ll let me go out with him” your daughter said, she added her pretty please face san can’t say no to.

“NO! you’re not dating till you’re 30” he pushed her closer to him

“dad please!” she whines

“fine, he’s a good guy and i can trust him around you” he said

“yay! thank you thank you” she squeals

“but on one condition”

“your mom and i go drop you off and pick you up” he said

“deal!”

“and no kissing or hand holding or hugging” san said

“ugh you can’t be serious” she whined.

“do we have a deal” san smirked

“deal”

San let out a big smile hugging his daughter again.

“dad can you please go freshen up”

—————

please comment or use my ask to be added to the taglist my urls are not working 💔

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[ofbreathandflame-archive]

utm really establishes a lot of the problems in the series for me. so much goes into establishing rhysand's actions utm as the defining turn of the tide - but in reality, rhysand never actually accomplishes anything from those abusive moments. a lot of them, in retrospect, actually don't make sense, from a tactical point of view. like feyre...dies. amarantha just kills her. so all of the dancing, all of the sa, all of the drugging - none of it accomplished anything. if anything, they undermines the actual efficient ways that rhys does initially help feyre.

for example - rhys scaring feyre from the manor. its such a counterproductive move that i truly don't understand why the editor allowed this to go through. feyre is literally this close towards confessing her feelings toward tamlin and rhysand's visit single-handledly ruined the easiest way out of the curse - which is for feyre to just say i love you. i cannot stress enough that rhysand is literally completely alone. NOBODY KNOWS THAT HE'S THERE AND WHY HE'S THERE. and if they did he is quite literally a daemati; he could be explaining everything while he pretended to enact violence. he literally - and i mean literally- could have pulled tamlin aside and explained to him whats happening utm. TAMLIN LITERALLY JUST WANTS TO TALK TO HIM. as a matter a fact, tamlin and lucien get down on there knees and beg him not to tell amarantha....and he tells amarantha anyway. like - okay he suspects feyre is his mate, she's close towards confessing her feelings, rhysand knows why she's there and what tamlin and is trying to accomplish and his first instinct is to do something that would (1) damn feyre to death (her family lives right by the wall and (2) jeopardize the closest they've been in FIFTY YEARS towards being free from amarantha.

and im not not that it happens - with the right writing and direction, a good writer could get away with it. im mad that the story tries to reinvent those moments as evidence of love and pragmatism when its not. im not mad that rhysand is bitchy and antagonistic toward tamlin, im mad that the story tries to sell those behaviors as anything ing but...antagonism and bitchyness. the story could have literally just leaned into rhysand not being mentally sound and explain that in those moments, he is looking to exert power over tamlin and feyre. thats literally okay and expected given his predicament. him telling amarantha that feyre is a hunter led to her having to face down the wyrm, his drugging of her and taking of her clothes made it so where the hot food she was getting was inconsequential because she could no longer get her food down. he took her out her cell to sexually assault her every night for months and then took her memories away from her so she could even process the violation. she was so tired for dancing in a trance for hours that she was so tired that she couldn't even begin to think about what the the answer to the riddle could be.

[crispyjenkins]

mandalore the young cont.

original post/discussion here! it was just getting really long and i for one hate scrolling so far, so. here's this. have also added this au to my masterlist in my pinned post!

@malcontent-crow

#i had a whole wall of tags and it didnt save! lets try this again#i am loving this. the potential for world building and the consequences of knowing more than you should (literally)

#i had forgotten that DW wasnt in peoples thoughts as a threat during the Clan Wars#and the idea that Pre was so far underground with the movement is a very good thing to remember as well! #on one hand you have this driven and spirited young verd that is inspiring Clans to start reassessing who they are fighting and why#on the other you have this clanless outsider that knows waaaaay too much about all the potential major players and is saying#that this major threat isnt really as gone as everybody thought and hoped. sith parallels out the wahoo for ppor obi#and hes standing there watching them all argue over his head about this threat that he KNOWS needs to be dealt with#he is seeing himself as pretty on par or above with the Old Guard in terms of mental age or prowess or large scale battles#so he sees them doubt him maybe even to his face and knows he'll need to get things started on his own

#and becauae everything in the galaxay has at least one person watching it from the outside... how quickly does the news of a jedi padawan#going off the rails on this mission get out? whos keeping track and who points fingers at the jedi for attempting to control the outcome#of the war of their historical enemies in their favor? the senate (read sith) want mandalore defanged before their war but what does it look#like the jedi want? how does the council answer for his actions? do they condemn or condone him? do they try to stay out of it?

#the world building potential of the Manda and the Ka'ra is delicious.#what does it mean to be a mando or darmanda? can you walk around and have people look at you and know you have failed in your oaths?

#and ouch! Obi-Wan considering the fact that he has never been allowed to be his own person.#from padawan to knight/master and then a general and councilor and sheesh. hes really never had the chance to see who he is as a person#outside of his responsibilities to everybody around him and right now hes a war worn adult in a war worn teens body#hes always had somebody else there. as a battle companion a teacher a student as somebody to protect and guard and guide#and now he has this entire culture looking at him and waiting for his next move. and im guess it still feels like less than a burden than#the care and raising of an entire child on his own. sure he had the temple resources and other jedi to lean on but anakin always looked to#him first to solve any problem or teach him something new or cuddle him after nightmares as hes trying to hide his own dreams#and grief and flounding to find his footing as an independent adult

#so right now hes looking around at the entire mando population and realizing thats he might need to reshape himself again for somebody else#to make himself what others need and knowing he can and will do it if it means saving somebody else

#and when exactly did he come back from the war? did he have satine die in his arms and see the ruin that is madalore after a pacifist reign?#does he see the potential for that ruin to happen right now if he doesnt succeed? where does he see himself in regards to the jedi?#has he considered the consequences of stepping up to be the Mand'alor to this culture he has never seen as his own?#has he let himself think about the choices he needs to make and how some things you cant always come out the other side the same as before?

(following the trend of each of these getting longer, this has hit just under 5,000 words, so just a heads up lol? so much world building is happening in this one)

sorry you had to rewrite so much! that last exchange was cursed, it seems lmao

it's so easy to write Obi-Wan as prescient, or the route I'm going with in Dha Kar'ta, so i think it's a fun change-up to have him knowledgeable for completely different reasons! I'm actually going to avoid visions almost at all for this Obi, but everyone else certainly won't know the difference, and he doesn't tell them otherwise (though he won't encourage it either. I do actually have a Naruto time travel where Nart pretends to be psychic à la Shawn Spencer, so that isn't the route I wanna go for this Obi). the consequences of knowing too much, indeed

hmmm many of these questions depend on how deep into Jedi and galactic politics I wanna go, and I'm not sure it's very deep at all. or at least, not very dragged out. i'll explain in a mo

SO first: yes, this Obi is from after Satine dies, in 19 BBY, maybe a month or so after, but before the bombing of the Temple so before Ahsoka left the Order. He was back on the front, no time to properly mourn, though he was doing his best, and was meditating on the whole war, but especially the Sith and their hand in everything that happened on Mandalore. It went deeper than Maul, he knew, had been going on longer than Maul and even Dooku, and it occurred to Obi-Wan that the Sith either wanted a Mandalore that will side with them but not be too much a threat, or they wanted them not a threat at all. He realised his hand in that, in helping put the New Mandalorians on the throne that led to the demilitarisation of the entire sector. Obi-Wan had practically teed Mandalore up for Dooku and then Maul's interference, and if the Republic won the war, he could all too easily see them doing another excision. won't get too much into it to save it for the fic, but he is mediating with something beskar, and he gets a lil too deep into the Force, and of course this is post-Mortis so...... 👀

so this Obi-Wan, back in time, is helping Mandalore to prevent any more Sith machinations in the future, to change the future for the whole galaxy, but even before he's Chosen, he realises he's also doing all of this for Mandalore. for his own hand in its destruction, for the Jedi's hand in the Excision, for his personal connection to Satine drawing Maul to it. it's for atonement, for reparation, and also because Mandalore deserves to be saved, and Obi-Wan is in a place he can help do that. it isn't just about the health of the galaxy, anymore.

I usually shy away from having Obi-Wan leave the Order, no matter what AU I'm throwing him in because I believe in the fundamental goodness of the Order and the people in it, and Obi-Wan is fundamentally a Jedi, one of the best, one of the best. however, in this case, I don't think he can have his cake and eat it too. if Dooku had to leave the Order to accept his countship, then Obi-Wan would have to leave to become Mand'alor. Jedi are (supposed to be) politically neutral, and Obi-Wan is all too aware he'd nullified his own neutrality the moment he decided to go for Keldabe to find Jango.

one of my favorite... tropes? in time travel fic is Obi using his future fellow councilmembers' access codes to get into things he shouldn't, and he certainly knows how to work the Order's internal systems in his favor, so he

wait so i was gonna have him go in and tender his resignation from the Order directly into the systems, and backdate it for before the Mandalore mission, so that anything he's done on Mandalore so far cannot be blamed on the Jedi BUT WHAT IF he just. deletes himself. like completely. from admin to the Archives to the crèche's own internal systems to the Shadow's private servers, Obi-Wan Kenobi was never a Jedi, was never a Temple bastard, was never Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan. his mission records are all in Qui-Gon's name now, his medical file simply doesn't exist, his crècheling clan is listed as simply having been a person short compared to other clans that year. he goes so far as to delete comm histories with him or mentioning him, it's like Obi-Wan Kenobi just doesn't exist anymore.

he does this first thing after leaving Jango, he spends the entire week back to Mandalore ensuring he's been completely erased from absolutely anything relating to the Jedi, and then uses his future councilmember knowledge (and lessons from Quinlan) to erase himself from Republic systems, too. any planet he'd helped as a padawan will suddenly have no records of him as having been there with his master, so the senate or Order can't subpoena them for the info, though Obi-Wan knows he can't have gotten everything (such as any planet not in the Republic, or who don't have holonet access to their files, or both, like Melida/Daan), but he figures he's done enough to absolve the Order if anyone comes knocking about what he's doing.

he buries his lightsaber in the deserts of Mandalore, not knowing that in his old future, he'd have done the same on Tatooine.

so as far as the Jedi are aware: Obi-Wan went on a mission with Qui-Gon that (predictably) went to hell, got separated from his master for weeks to months, then suddenly changed, at the same time their Jedi with the highest prescience collapsed due to his visions, which have also changed. Obi-Wan left Qui-Gon behind to hightail it through the Mandalore sector, and Qui-Gon couldn't catch up or find him, and then Obi-Wan disappeared from anyone's radars for two weeks. then Qui-Gon senses him reenter the Mandalore system, right before breaking his training bond with him, and the Order wakes up to Obi-Wan completely erased from their systems like he never existed in the first place. everything is going so so wrong, and yet. and yet.

and yet the Force is telling them all that this is right, that this is the least Dark course of action, that whatever Obi-Wan is doing is indeed the Will of the Force

so the Order mourns one of their own, and tells Qui-Gon to let him go. and then the Order ups their cyber security because what.

i think he leaves an unsigned letter/comm message for a few people. Bant, Quinlan, Mace, Feemor, his old crèchemaster, Yoda, maybe Jocasta Nu. it's short, basically thanking them for their hand in his upbringing (Feemor hasn't even met him before so is very confused by this), apologising for leaving abruptly, but to follow the Will of the Force, he had to leave; the first part of the message is all the same, but ends with little individual notes. he apologises to Madam Nu for fucking with her archives and hopes she can one day forgive him; he asks her to keep her friends close and to mend the tension between her and Dooku, that Obi-Wan should not know about. He tells Yoda that the future is always in motion but they must move with it; he asks Yoda to meditate on his dwindling lineages and learn to accept all that he cannot control. He reminds Quinlan to wear his gloves and asks him to thank Tholme for looking out for him when Qui-Gon wouldn't or didn't; he thanks him for their years together, and asks him to check in on Feemor every now and then. He apologises to Mace for all the shatter-points he likely caused and will continue to cause, and suggests he put a permanent reminder in his comm to remember to refill his migraine prescription that sixteen year-old Obi should not know about. He asks Bant to look out for a young Togruta initiate that will join in seven years, and suggests Bant might like the healer track rather than the knight corps; he thanks her for being his longest and most dearly-held friend. He thanks his crèchemaster for realising his visions were more than dreams (which will inadvertently lend credence to that theory for why Obi-Wan changed so suddenly), for supporting him when Bruck was at his nastiest, and for always being someone he could turn to even after he became a padawan. For Feemor, Obi-Wan apologises that they hadn't had the chance to meet before then, and for the relationship they won't have anymore; Feemor has no idea who this message is from, until he starts hearing the gossip that Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Order again. He too mourns never getting to know his padawan brother.

and Obi-Wan sends Qui-Gon a message, of course, thanking him for his teachings, apologising for "leading him on" as an apprentice, leaving and coming back so many times only to permanently leave this time. he reminds Qui to reach out to his friends and his support system, asks him to at least consider talking to a mind or soul healer about Xanatos (knowing that once it gets out that Obi-Wan is a planetary leader, it will likely badly trigger Qui-Gon), and asks him to at least try and mend his relationship with Dooku, though understands if that's not something Qui-Gon is willing to do. asks him to keep Satine safe, but to deeply think about why the Republic is so intent on helping her faction, and why Qui-Gon had questioned so little of the New Mandalorian ethos.

so by the time Obi-Wan finds the Old Guard, he's broken from the Order completely, has buried his saber, has broken his training bond, has cut his braid. I think he shaves his head entirely to let it grow out at the same rate, because the padawan cut is *Eliot Spencer voice* Very Distinctive. he paints his armour white for, yes, his men, his vod'e, but also for cin vhetin. he can't be the man he was before, nor the teen he was before, neither are who Mandalore needs, and as long as he can stay true to his morals and upbringing, he will be what Mandalore needs him to be.

okay now onto the Manda vs. the Ka'ra vs. the Force. the Force is a scientific concept of an energy connecting absolutely everything in the universe, and the Jedi have a religious view on the scientific concept. for both purposes, the Force just is. I really like the idea of other non-Jedi ideas just being different aspects of the Force, different religions and cultures based on the same scientific concepts. for Mandalorians, their "aspect" of the Force is the Manda, the collective souls of every Mando'ade that's ever marched on. just what it means to be Mando'ade has varied greatly through history, and is varied between different groups even now, but none of that changes what the Manda is, which is an aspect of the Force only Mando'ade can touch. sort of like their beliefs of it being separate from the Force have made it so?

now I haven't really talked about this before, but from the beginning of me writing Mandalorian related things, i've separated Ka'ra from ka'ra, which was a little bit me misremembering there was another term for "stars", and then it became it's own thing. kar, meaning "star", with it's plural kar'e or kare, to me, means physical stars, the way we'd call our sun a star. ka'ra, uncapitalised, is the more poetic and/or spiritual "stars", the way we might say something is "written in the stars", which actually aligns with how jate'kara is spelled; for my writing, i've used this form for Mandalorian Force-sensitives being Star-touched ka'ra-touched. Ka'ra, capitalised, is that "ruling council of fallen kings", the Mandalorian myth and it, the way I've always interpreted it, is a separate part of the Manda made up of specifically the souls of every Mand'alor already marched on. So, Tor Vizsla could have joined the Manda after death, but not the Ka'ra; make sense? all that ka'ra vs Ka'ra worldbuilding was done very early in my writing for star wars, and has since expanded to include the idea of the Manda as something separate, and I would now actually consider Manda-touched over Star-touched to describe Force sensitive Mando'ade, because that's really what I think Mandalorians would consider causes their supernatural powers: ancestors rather than the stars.

so what does that mean for this fic? the Manda is directly influenced by all those that consider themselves Mandalorian, Force-sensitive or not. it is, however, not affected by New Mandalorians, unless they worship the Manda in some facsimile, and I think many, many, many do not, not the way they were raised to. this worship looks different for every clan and every individual, and I've always interpreted it as more of a broad spiritual practice across the whole culture rather than a religion, per se, the way a real-world broader culture might pray at shrines at New Years even if individuals themselves or their family aren't religious. this is what I'm referencing when I say the Will of the People: the alive Mando'ade and their choices and emotions affecting and influencing the Manda, the collective amalgamation of every passed-on Mando'ade, and it's when these two are in tandem that they "pick" a Mand'alor. HOWEVER, such a pick is also up to the Ka'ra, the Mand'alor'e that have all marched on; to one day enter the Ka'ra themselves, a Mand'alor must be "picked" by both the People/the Manda, and the Ka'ra. Tor would be "picked" by a significant part of the People and the Manda, and so would Jaster have been, but (according to me, myself, and i, obviously), only Jaster had been chosen by the Ka'ra. Pre is "Mand'alor" only in name, only in a tenuous loyalty existing in House Vizsla and Death Watch, not even by the Manda; just simple human (et al) loyalty. Jango had a weaker "pick" from the Manda than Jaster did, but was picked by the Ka'ra, meaning if he did not declare himself dar'manda (even just internally; I don't think he's ever said it out loud), he would have joined the Ka'ra after death; if he ever reconnects with himself as a Mandalorian, I like to think he'd have that chance again. Canon Jango, though, who went on to make the clones? Absolutely not.

what does this all mean for Obi-Wan? he'd spent weeks inadvertently drumming up support in the people and therefore the Manda, and maybe most haven't really looked at him and thought "sure I'd follow him as Mand'alor", but they have looked at him and thought "that one has mandokar, that one wants what's best for Mandalore, that one is touched by destiny". I dunno, man, like. Obi-Wan is their hope before he is their leader. That will make all the difference when he does end up uniting them. His searching out Jango had made Jango finally confront that he feels dar'manda, until then he hadn't really lost the Ka'ra's support, but that severs that connection. and now the Ka'ra are without a Mand'alor, but look at that, there's a mandokar'la little idiot right there, already strong in the Manda, already rallying hope and purpose, already so invested in the nurturing and the future of Mandalore, how could the Ka'ra not choose him?

I posed the question previously whether or not Mando'ade can tell who has been chosen to be Mand'alor, and I think I've ironed out what that'll mean for this fic. non-Force sensitive Mando'ade will have this sense when near their Mand'alor, a subconscious and inherent trust in them, and indeed, some will be disturbed by this and fight it. that's alright, that's their right. Some never clock this extra sense, some are aware of it always, some just chalk it up to "gut feelings" and the like. The more spiritual or religious Mandos maybe put a little more stock in this feelings, I think especially goran'e and other spiritual leaders, but the fact that the Manda can technically pick more than one person at a time (like Tor and Jaster, and then Jango), this extra sense isn't a perfect indicator of a properly chosen Manda'lor.

now. what about Force sensitive Mando'ade? Well, the Manda is an aspect of the Force, and is in fact how said Force sensitive Mando'ade connect to the Force, by going through the Manda, first. their relationship with sensitivity is inherently different from others in the galaxy, at least those that connect to it directly. they are the ones that can sense or see if someone is chosen by the Ka'ra, depending on their sensitivity. Some see the ghostly line of previous Mand'alor'e stretched out behind them (like the Avatar cycle lmao), some see a wavering crown of stars around their head, some just sense there is a duplicity (/neutral) to their Force presence that doesn't exist in anyone else. how common is Force sensitivity in Mandalorian space? not fuckin very. Jaster had three in his entire faction of aprox. 2 million (fanon number), at least that were aware they were sensitive. Jango only had a few more, and only because he had gained a couple hundred thousand more followers before Galidraan. so i'll make the nearly-arbitrary number that Force sensitive Mandos are 1 in 1,000,000, across the entire sector. by some calculations, in the whole galaxy at around the time of the Clone Wars the number of Force sensitives is 1 in 5,000,000 but these calculations do not generally include societies and species with a near or 100% chance of Force sensitivity, because we simply don't have the data for it. does this all make Mandos slightly more likely to be Force sensitive than others, by my own numbers? sorta. which i'm making an issue of underreporting, based on Mandalore not being a part of the Republic, and also contention with the Jedi and Sith; they don't consider those Manda-touched to be Force sensitive, and with the way I've built this, they aren't exactly wrong.

for the purposes of this story, there are maybe eight Manda-touched Mando'ade in the Mandalore system at this time, and all but one are goran'e. that single non-armorer is part of the Old Guard. I have the roster for the Old Guard decided, so I'm debating whether the Manda-touched one is Cort Davin (a journeyman protector), or one of the women. Instinct wants Vhonte Tervho, but I have plans for her to be related to the goran Obi-Wan got his armour done by, who I wanted to be one of the seven Force sensitive armorers, soooo. lmao how fucked would it be if Isabet Reau is the Force sensitive one? I like the angst of that, since I definitely do not plan on redeeming her, but I kind of want the only Old Guard that can sense Obi-Wan is Chosen by the Ka'ra to be really quiet and accepting of it, while everyone else is arguing. hmmm I have an unnamed Wren as part of the Guard, that I haven't fleshed anything out for yet; perhaps them?

okay I think I've solidified what it makes a Mandalorian, at least for the function of this fic. it is tied to the Resol'nare, and following it, which does allow those who had Chosen Tor Vizsla as their Mand'alor to technically still be following the Resol'nare, and are therefore not dar'manda. at least not for that. but part of the reason the Resol'nare is even able to determine who has a Mandalorian soul, is because they believe it does. Those alive and those dead influence the functionality and reality of the Manda, which also allows for those pre-Resol'nare to still exist in the Manda. What causes someone to become dar'manda, if they are technically following the Resol'nare?

maybe it's reductive, or over-simplified, or maybe even too broad, but it makes sense to me and allows for many many different types of people to still fail, and this is obviously not the only way to become dar'manda, but one thing that will always strip someone of their Mando soul? treatment of children. caring for children. not harming children. this allows many of Death Watch to still maintain their Mando souls, but still be fucked up awful people in other ways. It allows even True Mandalorians to have lost their souls and not realised it because they otherwise adhered to the Resol'nare, because they'd chosen to interpret "defending oneself and family" and "raising your children as Mandalorians" to not include other peoeple's children. Or maybe they were abusive in the belief they were caring for their children. This would also make every single one of the Cuy'val Dar dar'manda, which I think is a fascinating concept.

to answer your question directly, no, one cannot look at someone and know they're dar'manda, even the Force/Manda sensitive ones. one will only know in death, whether or not they have a place in the Manda.

NOW what does this mean for New Mandalorians?? well, by technicality and the way I've set the Manda up, one can interpret the Resol'nare in ways that could align with New Mandos. Perhaps they interpret "armour" as more than specifically "beskar'gam", maybe they wear armourweave or other protective fabrics. Maybe they interpret "defending one's family" as putting down arms instead of raising them, in order to create a peaceful future for their children. I think there are plenty of New Mandos that technically tick off all the boxes, and believe in themselves and their fellows so much that the Manda is like "yeah sure why not, we'll make that count". I think some tenants are more easily... bent, like swearing to the duchy in place of the Mand'alor, but I think an easy one New Mandos miss, is "speak Mando'a." I think many New Mandos were all too quick to switch to Basic for everything except religious and spiritual ceremonies, and I think those already in the Manda would find that very hard to forgive. I actually get into this a little in Dha Kar'ta very soon, but for this fic, i'll have Satine not outright outlawing Mando'a, but it is socially heavily discouraged. you're not allowed to speak it in the palace unless in aforementioned ceremonies, you cannot fill out paperwork in anything but Basic, you're not allowed to use Mando'a titles (including Mand'alor), you're not allowed to teach it to your children. no outright like. punishments for speaking it in public, but if your kids are caught, there are repercussions, including investigation into how else you're raising your kids, and if you're found to be doing anything else, they can take your kids from you. not every New Mando agrees with this, of course, and go about adhering to the Resol'nare as best they can in secret, but so many do give up the language by convincing themselves it's not as important as the other tenants and, well, the duchy hasn't steered them all wrong yet, has it?

okay so on the subject of what the outside galaxy is seeing. I like the headcanon/trope/idea of like. the one thing all factions of Mandalorians agreeing on is fuck everyone else. oh, the New Mandos will emulate the Core and the Republic, but they aren't the Republic nor want to be, and this animosity extends to keeping as many internal Mandlorian issues just that: internal. no faction can keep news from leaving the system or the sector, obviously, but there also isn't a lot of interest in Mandalorian news? "oh look all the Mandos are fighting again", except that's been the standard for like. actual thousands of years. I like when fic have people outside the sector not evening knowing there are different factions, so I'll be doing that here, too, and I like the idea of non-Republic sectors having their own holonets, separate from the Republic one. so like, if Obi-Wan happens to go a little viral during his mad dash to Keldabe, that would be on the Mandalorian holonet, not the Republic one, so even if Obi-Wan was visibly still a Jedi (and he wasn't), actual news of him wouldn't reach the Mid and Inner Rims until like. possible years after it happens.

could this maybe be expedited by Sith machinations? absolutely, though I'm not sure I want to go that route, since I don't think the Sith are overmuch interested in Mandalore at this point, at least not in any hands-on capacity. I'm unclear on whether them funding Death Watch is fanon or not, but it is a headcanon I subscribe to, and I think they'd have stopped funding DW after Galidraan, to cause worse infighting and prevent DW from gaining enough power to actually restart their imperial conquering days. Palpatine has been senator for about ten years by this point, but has very little political power overall, and Demask would be looking basically anywhere but Mandalore at this point in time, both of them having written it off until they actively need something from the sector. if anyone had clocked Obi-Wan as a Jedi, this all would have gone very differently, news would have spread much further and quicker and I think undoubtedly would have reached Palpatine, but since I have Obi-Wan just... cutting ties to anything Jedi, news of him remains in-sector. is this perhaps unrealistic? maybe, but I kind of want to focus on Mandalore and not worry about galactic-wide politics for once, lmao, actually very much like Obi-Wan is doing. however, he will clock a lack of Sith interference and thinks That's Very Weird.

haven't decided how he finds Palpatine out yet, but I think it'll have to do with his Manda senses being different than his Force ones, maybe the Ka'ra even gives him a few tips or gifts to sense Sith since they've allied and fought with them so much in the past. regardless, that'll be after he's become Mand'alor and united the clans.

now to actual plot progression! Obi-Wan meets up with the Old Guard, they don't know what to make of him other than "he's kriffing weird. and young. and creepy. and probably Manda-touched." whatever other verd is Manda-touched will see him blessed by the Ka'ra, which causes them to look inwards more closely and realise they trust Obi-Wan inexplicably, which means they're blessed by the Manda and the Will of the People, too. they wonder if Obi-Wan has noticed, if any of the other Old Guard have noticed. they are one of a few that notice Obi-Wan sneaking back out while everyone is arguing.

Vhonte Tervho is another. She's at this lil summit to represent clan Tervho, tho isn't the clan head, because her ba'vodu, a Manda-touched goran, had sensed she needed to be at the summit. said ba'vodu is of course the armorer who reforged Obi-Wan's armour (need to find a name for them hmm), who had told their clan they were to cease fighting until their new Mand'alor called on them. Vhonte sees Obi-Wan, realises at the same time as everyone that he's the Kih'Manda, the Mand'ika that the entire system had been gossiping about for weeks, and she thinks of what her ba'vodu said. she looks inwards, like they had taught her to, and finds, yes, she trusts Obi-Wan, just like she used to trust Jango. And, well, her Mand'alor is obviously leaving to go do something, and she isn't going to let him go it alone.

the Manda-touched verd doesn't go with them, wanting to see what comes of this, but they already know Obi-wan is Ka'ra Chosen. they will come when he calls.

[elftwink]

going to say something about writing that is not a complaint and i know it sounds exactly like someone complaining but the conclusion i have drawn is that this rules. preface over am currently "working on" (in the most generous, nebulous sense possible) an original fantasy story & i just keep finding more stuff about the world i need to decide because it feels extremely formative to me even though it will barely appear on the page, if at all

but like... just the sheer volume of communication irl that happens symbolically that you never question becomes so apparent when you try to create a world that doesn't have those things or doesn't have the conditions for such a thing to be created. writing a character wearing a wedding ring and then going wait a minute— would these people communicate marital status via ring placement? why do we do that irl? when did we start? surely thats not the only way people ever communicate marriage— what does everyone else do? and really, come to think of it, what does it mean to be 'married' in this fictional world i'm creating? is there a legal component or just a social one? should it have all the same connotations/obligations as the real world (e.g. monogamy, having children, romantic love, impact on finances, etc)?

you can do this with literally Everything In The World. what language is everyone speaking? is it the same one? how many languages are there in the region i'm writing about? is the language we're speaking anyone's second language? when did they learn? is bilingualism common? and where does everyone here live? speaking of living, is that a permanent dwelling situation or are people nomadic? what's the climate like? are all the characters here used to the climate or is someone used to ten degrees cooler and kind of short tempered because of it? the clothes are probably impacted by the weather, what's everyone wearing? what's it made out of? what would be around here that could be used for dye? help me i have a case of worldbuilders disease and its incurable. these motherfuckers are never going to finish this journey because i cant even get them on the page long enough to pack a cart. also would they use carts? when did we start having cart and carriages pulled on roads irl? if there's roads, who's maintaining them— or is it just the path from years of people travelling that way? does the terrain allow for wheeled vehicles or would some other way be better?

anyway. you may call all this a waste of time and "not technically writing" since i "havent written any prose". i think im just slow cooking this novel. oooooh im thinking about it so much. you just wait when im like 56 im going to knock your socks right off with my intricate detailed world where i thought about everything except whatever element of society you understand most deeply. that part i fucked up and clearly didn't know anything about. sorry

[gettinontopic]

This is so transphobic like what the hell is this

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[Image Id: A large addition to a tumblr poat reading "Also if I'm going to be honest, passing as a man is also just easier than passing as a woman. The rules to being a man and passing as a man are much more lenient than being a woman or passing as a woman. Trans women have to worry about shit like "I need to wear an outfit that distracts people from the fact I have an adams apple, and not allow people to see that I have shoulders, and learn makeup and basically become a voice actor and etc. and maybe I won't be called a man today" (and if you pass too well and the wrong cis guy feels guilty about being attracted to you, you get murdered meanwhile if you're a trans guy and you wanna pass as a man, you gotta like have short hair and hide or remove your boobs and at this point you can already just go to the grocery store and most people will see you as a man. Once you get facial hair and a deeper voice, most people will just see you as some guy. Like I don't understand why transmascs insist on this idea that they could never really pass. Like the idea that trans man who passes is almost far-fetched. Weird as hell." End Id]

Lets upack this shall we?

1."Passing as a man is easier than passing as a woman"

No it's not. The rules to being a man and passing as a men as strict as lots of rules for women. Have you ever seen a cis guys who fails to pass? They're called names, theyre physically beat, and theyre often ostracized from their cis peers just as fast as any trans person. Cis boys cant even pass half the time by the rules they made. Quit fucking lying about men just magically having it so easy.

Your experiences as passing as a man aren't universal and if you've never passed as one what makes you think it's fucking easy?

Also god forbid you're a black man, or a black man who is into something deemed feminine. Shit I've seen guys call black men women for wearing a damn hair bonnet.

Oh not to mention I'm only a man to transphobes when they can call me a "dangerous black man" only to switch back to tryibg to detransition me by saying "you can just be a masc girl!"

2.Adams apple

While you have to hide yours, I have to wear shit that distracts people that I *don't* have one. Cause, and I know this is wild, if they expect you not to have one for being a women, what do they expect me to have for being a man? Hmm? And if you're a man who's adams apple never came in? I've seen them called girls to. Shit I've heard a guy called not manly for missing his, and he was still in puberty!!

3.Shoulders

While you have to hide you shoulders, I have to do whatever I can to have the.. small shoulders on men? maybe if youre in a "non manly" field like music or art, but I do gym work. I better look likeit regardless of the disability that effacts my muscles growth and development or I am called maam by every guy there. Which sucks btw.

4. Makeup and voice acting:

Trans men also are regularly advised to wear makeup that masculinizes them and do voice training. thats some of our oldest passing tips. thats litterally never been unique to trans women. what the FUCK kinda of implications are you trying to put out here?

5. Murder:

Hey did you know cis guys will murder trans men bc they were attracted to them and then found out they werent "real men" and then kill them. shit cis women also kill us if they find out they were attracted to us and we aren't their ideal man anymore. do u know how men who hear im butch and into women behave?

Fuck right the fuck off trying to tokenize the murder lf trans women while throwing trans men murders in the "that doesn't happen" bin.

6. How many times have we said short hair and no boobs dont fucking automatically gets us gendered correcly!! We have voices that have to be trained, we have muscles were expected to build,and some men even watch the way you walk to guess if you have a dick or not.

Listen to any trans men. any of us for five minutes. those things do not making an easily passing trans man fuck you for lying about our experiences as not a trans man.

7. "You gotta like have short hair or remove your boobs"

Untrue! just Untrue. we also have to preform the rules of manhood really well. ive seen beareded transmen clocked for like so many different other reasons and you wouldn't listen to those men if it would save all trans people lives forever. cis men constantly dig at other men presentation to keep each other in line. Its a regular for them.

Also: not all of want to pass with those features. I deserve to have long hair and not bind and still pass as a man and you suck for defining everything around passing.

8. I don't know why you insist on this idea that trans women never really pass without obscene work (when ive met trans women that admit they have it easy by throwing on a dress and wearing her hair down) and that all trans men who have ascess to transition magically do pass (When multiple of us transitioning have said we dont)

If we can't talk about the ones who don't pass then you kinda can just sweep away the idea we don't face discrimination or danger and that's getting us killed actually.

None of us have said we can all never really pass any who say they can't are usually speaking on their own experiences. Because you want us all to pass so bad you don't care that we don't, and that it gets us backlash and hurt.

Also, if you ever read this, kiss my black ass and go reevaluate what makes you think you should speak on experiences that aint yours as if you're the one with the Hard Cold Facts.

[formulaswift]

why cant you choose me.

carlos sainz x norris!reader

reader and carlos are friends with benefits as being together is too risky…lando being her brother and all, but is carlos willing to risk it for her…

warnings : mentions of sex, language, use of yn…angsty one also not proofread im sorry😭

you turned over in bed, feeling the presence of the man lying next to you. inhaling gently you smelt his faint scent of cologne as you rolled over under the sheets.

one of his arms moved and looped around your waist, pulling you in gently as he grumbled something. carlos was never a morning person and you knew that, you also knew your brother would absolutely kill the both of you if he found out about your current position…or rather any position carlos had put you in.

when lando first introduced you to carlos as his sister, he made it very clear that there was no way carlos was allowed too close, let alone to date you or god forbid…fuck you.

and thats what made your current predicament even more amusing to you, laying in bed next to a very tired carlos sainz.

you both swore that it was strictly casual, and that you were just two people who had a strong attraction to eachother…you were friends so surely nothing would change right.

but then you’d noticed how his hug would linger for slightly too long when you’d leave after one of your late night rendezvous, how his eyes would soften at the sight of you, how the smell of your perfume would slow his breathing and calm his heart rate.

and you werent one to play innocent either, you knew that you loved it when he’d sit there and play with your hair in the mornings, or he’d pull you back towards him when you’d roll away from him in the night.

which brought your thoughts back to your current place, feeling carlos bury his head into your neck, softly breathing as you thought he’d fallen back asleep, until he kissed your neck gently, murmuring sweet words under your ear, breath soft against your skin, warming it slightly.

“morning mi amor.”

he said, quietly but you could hear the deep and slight croakiness to his voice, he always had it in the mornings.

“mm hi.”

you smiled, moving yourself slightly so you could face him instead of staring off the edge of the bed. his soft brown eyes met yours.

he leant in and gently placed a kiss on your lips, his lingering for a second too long after he pulled away but you werent in a position to correct him. he pushed his head back into the crook of your neck and laid there.

“carlos.”

“hm ?”

“have you ever thought of us…being more than this.”

you blurted out, wanting to ask the question yet not wanting till the worst moment to say it.

“hermosa, you know we can’t…”

“why can’t we.”

“you know what lando would say, he’d kill me.”

“why does he get a say on what happens in my life.”

“mi amor, it’s not worth the risk.”

“why not.”

“landos one of my closest friends, i cant just lose him.”

“but it’s okay if lose me?”

you said, feeling frustration in the fact that he didnt seem to care as much as you did.

“thats not what i said hermosa, of course i dont want to lose you but i really dont think its worth the risk of losing my best friend, why cant we just stay like we are.”

“because i care about you ! and i cant just keep on waiting until you call me on a random tuesday saying to come over for me to able to see you, i dont wanna have to be the girl you fuck when you feel like it, i can’t keep doing this.”

he moved away a little, standing up from the bed where you still sat.

“i can’t give you more than that hermosa.”

“you can’t or you won’t?”

you said tears brimming your eyes.

he didn’t respond, something in his eyes telling you he didn’t want to be in this position, telling you these things but it wasn’t that simple.

“hermosa…”

you ignored him, standing up from the bed and dressing yourself hastily. you grabbed your things.

“yn!”

“no im done carlos , answer my question.”

“you cant give me more or you wont ?”

“i wont, im sorry hermosa but im not risking my friendship with him.”

“then im not wasting any more of my time on meaningless sex when we both know it goes deeper than that.”

you walked out, slamming the door, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the cold air of the hall.

[crow-ur-beloved]

various jrwi headcanons because the worms in my brain (potential autism) wont shut up. no real plot spoilers except for one, but its marked :]

the suckening:

shilo is like vampire immunocompromised, which added to the pile of reasons his mom used to keep him inside the castle because she didnt want him to immediately get 37 different diseases and Die. (if vampires can have allergies then id like to think they can also get sick. i dont actually know if thats possible in the vtm system but i dont care they can in my heart)

genderfuck/genderpunk afab emizel. i feel like thats the only label he'd use, if he had to have one. i dont think hed label his sexuality because he wants to be an enigma. but he Definitely likes men.

bizley said in the qna something that can Only let me think of shilo as aromantic. maybe aro And ace... i dont remember what he said exactly aughhgh i wish i did...

shilo fidgets with his hands like all the time. his mother and uncle tried to get him to stop and sit still because it wasnt very princely and whatnot but my boy needs a fidget toy. i think hed go craaaazy with an infinity cube

i feel like me saying arthur bennett is a bisexual doesnt even count as a headcanon like i think thats just a given. i feel like itd be more surprising if i said i thought he was straight. all beautiful beautiful vampire men have to be lgbtq. its the law actually

arthur never officially broke up with mary. mans just Left one day without warning. probably left a note that said "sorry. -arthur" on it. i doubt he had it in him to say goodbye to her face or his reasoning for it (he thought hed inevitably hurt her because of what he is and what he did to the people he loved in the past, because bad luck seems to follow him everywhere... oughh he makes me ill). he definitely used finding a new lead on anya somewhere else in the country as a good reason to dip. at least, as good a reason as it couldve been for him.

maybe controversial but i 100% think arthur and magnus had a one-night stand at the beginning of their relationship, before magnus met jerome, and they never talked about it again and pretend it never happened. cannot explain how real this is to me.

riptide:

ftm chip who 100% innately knew he was a dude since the moment he could think. like when the black rose pirates picked him up, he got confused when they started referring to him as a girl at first. probably never got The Talk from them, so was Very confused when he hit puberty. Reuben reluctantly helped him steal to pay for top surgery.

since tritons live at the bottom of the ocean, they would have eyes that are far more sensitive to light to allow them to see better since little light gets all the way down there. gillion was Immediately blinded by the sun when he surfaced and still gets headaches from how bright it is in the oversea, but they've gotten better the longer he's been up there. tritons are built to adapt to all kinds of conditions, so his eyes have slowly been getting a darker bluish-purple the longer he spends above the ocean; they were originally more of a light blue-grey.

in tandem with the last one, chip thinks hes either going crazy or a bad friend because he Swears gill's eyecolor is different than last week but how could that be possible, thats not just something he can do, right? why would he be able to do that???

if gillion gets knocked onto his back without warning he does that thing that sharks do where they get paralyzed for a bit when they get flipped upside down. its scary because he can see everything but cant do anything. he also definitely forgot to tell chip and jay about this fact and scared the Shit out of them the first time it happened around them.

gillion can also change his sex like some fish can. its the reason he can lay eggs. i think this makes it safe to say genderfluid/nonbinary/generally trans gillion tidestrider is highly possible and even probable in this headcanon. what im saying is t4t fish n chips.

not to headcanon all my favs as trans but i cant help it. it is the highest honor i can bestow upon them. anyways. mtf jay ferin. ava always knew and was the first person jay came out to. jay was also 100% named jayson after her father and went by jay most of her life anyway as a nickname and just decided to stick with it instead of picking anything else. may was always very openly-supportive of her. jayson was as supportive as a generally strict, overbearing, unsupportive-in-everything father can be. jay totally came out to him and the first thing he said to her was something like, "as long as it doesnt interfere with your navy training," and may promptly kicked him under the table and made him say something nice.

kiras trans too btw. she came out before jay and helped jay discover she was trans. and that she liked women.

(spoilers for 109 and beyond) chip can't entirely remember what he looks like. everytime he focuses on the illusion of hiding that hes practically just a skeleton now, it changes just a bit. freckles in the wrong places, the wrong shade of orange for his flame tattoos, too much light in his eyes, too much muscle on his arms. jay notices it but cant bring herself to say anything. she knows the illusion is meant to keep everyone from worrying, but, everytime she sees something off about it, she just remembers what he really looks like underneath, and that somehow feels worse.

blood in the bayou:

all these bitches gay as hell. kian is pan. rands got a lot of internalized homophobia. rolan probably too. its the 80s, man.

apotheosis (haven't finished it yet so idk how true these'll be lol):

agender rumi. godbless.

also rumis a theater kid. he got the lead in every musical he auditioned for because he could literally just shapeshift. theyd make up a new identity and appearance for every role and get to know everyone on the cast and then mysteriously drop off the face of the planet as that person when the production was over and nobody would know it was them.

peter has actually tried All Kinds of things. weed. yoga. multilevel marketing schemes. you name it, big chance hes done it at least once and didnt like it. he doesnt know how he ends up in the situations to try it, either.

[oleander-nin]

Im not sure if you still take reqs so sorry if you dont but can you do yandere donnie with a reader thats really bad at taking care of themself? Like they’ll stay up until like 5am playing videogames and end up sleeping in so much they decide to skip breakfast and lunch then end up eating a snack instead of a real meal for dinner because its to much work

A/N, not important: Uhh, I think I may have done this wrong- I had an idea, but somehow this came out instead. If it's majorly not to your tastes, send the request again and I'll try again. Thank you sm to @lethelagoon for the title and for helping me with the fic! Also this is posted on the tenth and not the third because I posted smth on the first and decided I could just skip to this week. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: mention of feeding tube, descriptive, mentions of drugging, pills, needles, abuse, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 1357

Summary: Donnie comes home and finds out you broke his rules. Again.

“Do we need to go over your schedule again?” Donnie’s smooth voice sounds from behind me. I look towards him, shrinking down in fear. I set the console SHELLDON swore I was allowed to use down, racking my brain to try and find an excuse to get out of this. It had taken me three months to convince him I was fine being left alone, three months to convince him I wouldn’t break the schedule he created for me. Yet here I was, caught with the console on and his(or ours, as he liked to claim) bed unmade, the clock shining the traitorous numbers brightly. It was three in the morning, and Donnie had just returned from a mission, catching me in the act. I gulp. This was not going to go well.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. A scowl was on his face, signaling his distaste to the world. I chew on my cheek, opening my mouth and closing it over and over, trying to think of something to say. I didn’t want to be drugged again. I wouldn’t let him drug me again.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. It was a half-truth, which is better than a full lie. He can’t prove I wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Hopefully he won’t realize I never tried.

Donnie scoffs, a scowl set on his face. “Then you ask SHELLDON for sleep medicine. That is not an excuse and you know it. Gosh, you’re so- UGH!”

I cower back, my hands starting to shake as he paces around the room, his arms flailing as he continues to rant. I was going to be punished again, I was sure of it. Images of the isolation room and chains flashed through my mind, the slick taste of pills burning my throat. I couldn’t go through that again. I never wanted that to happen again.

Noticing my shaking, Donnie rolls his eyes and crosses the room in quick succession. He scoops me into his arms, holding me close while he continues to grumble under his breath. His arms were tense, the muscles more defined due to his anger. I couldn’t help the wave of panic coursing through my veins, my mouth going dry. 

I brace myself for the sharp pinch of a needle, but it never comes. I glance at his face, his dark eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t pleased, that was certain, but I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t freaking out. Last time I did something like this, he stripped the room of anything I could mess with and kept me locked up for a month. I still remember the pills he brought in, every night at seven. I shudder at the thought, the feeling of my body shutting down and pulling me into an unwanted sleep. 

He continues to stare at me, scanning my face slowly. He sighs in irritation, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me further into the room and setting me on the bed. He sits on the edge, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes his gear off slowly, letting each glove and padding fall to the floor. His steady hands were shaking in anger, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. My chest is tight in fear, knowing what was to come. The only wonder I had was why he was taking so long. I watch his face, trying to look past his eyes and learn what he was thinking. His silence was never good, a painful indicator of how ruthless he could be. Silence was a warning with Donnie, never a blessing.

“You didn’t listen.” He says, his voice tight. He’s not looking at me, his eyes trained on the floor. His hands squeeze the blanket of his bed, his green knuckles going white from the force. My blood runs cold and I desperately try to think of a way to fix this. He looks back over at me, his eyes narrowed and furious. “Why? Do you think I’m wrong? Do you not see the way I love you and want you to improve?”

I stay silent, unable to form a response. I didn’t know how to tell him the way he loved me was wrong in every way possible. I didn’t know how to tell him I still wanted, no needed, my escape from reality. 

His eyes wash over me again, my body feeling heavier with each look he gave me. It was like every time he scanned my body, another layer of fear and shame was set on my shoulders. The room was getting smaller, my lungs struggling to take in air. My left hand crosses my chest and sits on my shoulder, my right digging painfully into my thigh. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to go home. I hate him, I hate him so much. I can’t do this, I can’t be near him. All he does is hurt, and take, and I can’t leave. I was going to die here, stuck under the sick obsession of a mutant turtle.

I feel his hand on my back and I try not to cry, panic and fear growing until I feel as if I would pop. I couldn’t live like this, not any longer. I look up, seeing the way his face had tensed. I could see his lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words. I feel my throat ache from the held back tears, my entire body thrumming in sync with my heart. It was too fast. His room was too dark.

“Breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the order, my body conditioned to do as he says without question. His hand goes under my chin, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. He makes me look into his eyes, the same eyes that were unbothered as he locked me away for weeks. The same eyes that stared angrily as he shoved a feeding tube down my throat when I forgot to eat. A sob bubbles from my chest as I try to pull back, survival instinct kicking in. His grip on my chin grows tighter, his other arm looping around my back and holding me in place. He places his forehead against mine, his lips moving once more. I could feel the words around me, the vibrations in the air, but I couldn't hear them. I could understand what he was saying, but I didn’t know what he said.

I continue to cry involuntarily, the hand holding my chin shifting to cup my cheek so he can wipe the tears as they fall. It didn’t help, his thumb wasn’t fast enough to wash them all away. I sit like that for nearly twenty minutes, the world around me crashing down and landing on my chest. My vision swirls with each sob while Donnie continues to hold me and whisper useless, silent words.

My vision swims one last time before the room starts to come back into focus, a harsh ringing in my ears. Donnie’s face is inches from mine, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. I stare at them through my sniffles. I never noticed he didn’t take off his mask. I try to turn my head to look at the room, but his grip on my face is strong.

“Are you done?”

I blink at him, his thumb roughly swiping my cheek as a stray tear falls. I forgot how his voice sounded for a moment. I take a deep breath, nodding. I didn’t have any other way to tell him, and I doubted I would fall into another fit. His hands fall from my face and I lean my neck back, staring at the ceiling. I felt numb, like my tears washed away every emotion my body once held. I couldn’t tell if I felt free, or even more suffocated. It was surreal, having my body be able to go through such stress before falling back as if nothing had happened.

Donnie’s hands trail down me, as if he was afraid I’d fall apart if he let go. They loop around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap before he shifts on the bed and falls backwards, keeping me on his chest. I don’t fight it this time, letting him press a kiss to the crown of my head while he slowly rubs my back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, love.” His voice is quiet, one hand leaving my back to take his mask off while the other holds me tight. I let my head fall, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard of his plastron. I let my eyes close, too tired to fight him any longer. I feel his chest vibrate as a small chuckle can be heard from him. “There you go. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up so we can discuss your new schedule. This will never happen again.”

I feel my stomach churn at his words, but I do nothing more than hum in agreement. I couldn’t fight anymore, my energy zapped. I just hoped I could sleep in tomorrow. I would delay a talk with him forever if I could. I take another breath and sleep comes for me, dragging me down into the darkness of my mind.

[muffinsin]

okok, new asker.. requester?? Idk. Just, Im new to this thing. 😵‍💫

Have you done dimitrescu sistas dating someone whos genuinly like, a rabid dog, who constantly needs to bite, and/or claw their things, for just the admirable purpose of -- no purpose?? Like.. for example, when stimming, or focusing, or just when spacing out, you can always find them, like, chewing on a piece of wood?? Or something?? or, like, finding them with their nails subconciously gripping, like, a couch cushion, out of restlesness (whilst reading, or, watching something, that requires them to sit still) SO. TIGHT. that they ripped it through the middle?

I beg, i plead, and i blead (aha, get it?? Vampire stuff? Beg+plead=.. yeah, okay, i'll see myself out)

uhhhhhhh hope this was .. clear.. enough.. ahahahahhahasn.... giggles

-🐾🧃, aka jungle-juice anon 👽 geehee!!!!

p.s, i wuv ur work, keep being you, ur the best!!!!! Dont overwork urself tho.... because.. thats bad 😉😉😉😉😉😉😉 i know, maximum rizz. Im too charming. ANYWAYS!!!!!!! Hope ur doing well, take breaks, drink, eat, sleep, go to.. uhh.. school?? Idk if ur in school. Goodluck, much love 🫂🫂 piece!!! (Not peace, i require violence)

Hi :)! Welcome, then :)🙌 This is a Hella intriguing request, I couldn’t help but jump into it when I should’ve probably finished another wip! XP I’m glad you like my work, hon, it means a lot :) This is a good reminder for all to eat & drink!🙌 I’m not in school anymore :)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

While at first, you seemed like any other staff member or villager, Bela is quickly taught better

She notices your tendencies fast, and at first, isn’t too sure what to make of them

She isn’t sure why she defends you either, claiming it was her that accidentally ripped the pillows when Mother demands an explanation

Following up on why she acts this strangely, Bela decides to get to know you, more and more

In little time she finds herself falling for you, for your honest, unconcealed ways

She finds your more feral tendencies somewhat adorable, though at times scolds you like she has done countless times in the past when her then equally feral sisters broke something

Being allowed to stay in her room after a good while of dating, you couldn’t be happier

You’re with the woman you love, in a warm room and a spacious one

Despite this, Bela often has you sleep in a separate bed

Not that she doesn’t usually curl up with you

She just finds early on that you kick all from the bed in your sleep, pillows and blankets, even tear at the sheets- and her, if she happens to sleep next to you

And while you feel awful for the marks you leave on her in your sleep, it does get you curious like nothing else

You feel the need to bite, to mark, to cut and tear with your nails like an animal might

Multiple times, you’ve wondered whether you’re similar to the Lycans outside, even

Bela, though, she makes the thought of these things even sweeter

At times, when you zone out biting at a piece of bark or a sturdy stick she’s found you, your thoughts just…wander

You then can’t help but wonder how it would be to bite into her skin

She does insist, your blood tastes incredible, and there isn’t a day your flesh isn’t marked by her

But Bela?

Her beautiful, porcelain-like skin, soft and cold..

Often, you imagine what it’s like to chew on her neck or arm, just a quick taste if that’s all she grants you

At other times, you can’t help but accidentally nip her with your nails

Usually this is when you’ve pulled her in your lap, often having her there when you’re reading or so

She always agrees eagerly to this, knowing it means no more pillows will be torn open

Instead, your nails dig into her, bringing forth sharp gasps and low, soft groans every once in a while

You aren’t sure she’s truly against it, for she never scolds you and still is happy to sit on your lap

Perhaps, it’s her way of repaying you for being allowed to feed from your neck

Cassandra

Discovering you in the village, Cassandra is immediately keen on finding out more about you

Perhaps, that is because of how she found you…snarling as you tug and grunt, looking as though you’re playing tug of war with the lycan that stole your jacket

Of course, she easily snaps the creature in half, her pride blooming as you grin widely at her, your jacket clutched in your hands

She decides to take you with her, and while it wouldn’t quite have made a difference, you eagerly come with her

With Cassandra by your side, you soon learn to give into your subconscious thoughts and actions rather than fighting them

Cassandra, in a way, is feral at times as well

Due to that, she doesn’t quite care for the consequences of your actions

In time, as more blooms between the two of you

As such, she becomes more aware of your quirks, and you with here

Like when you curled up in bed with her

Her nails flexing every time you push your finger against her palm, her breathing even

Until, that is, you suddenly bite into her arm

Cassandra jumps, then raises an eyebrow when she meets your eyes

You don’t seem fazed, still playing with her palm, as though the biting didn’t faze you in the slightest

She shrugs, only. She doesn’t mind. In fact, it’s somewhat nice to feel your lips and teeth against her

As she notices this behaviour continue quite often, your sleeping and cuddle positions often change

You’re often with your head at her neck, biting contentedly as you read

Behind your back, she often sharpens her weapon

Both of you, content to be together, in indulging in whatever feral habits you have

When you scratch up her pillow in your sleep, Cassandra simply replaces them. They’re nothing of worth to her

Instead, she finds your urge to claw at things inspiring

She decides to allow you to hold her clothing and shields when you read, silently giggling to herself

You’re ideal for testing their efficiency, really

By the end of the day, or whenever you finish what activity has you so captivated, she checks how deep you were able to scratch

If the item is of no use, she discards it

Often, that means you get to gnaw at it all you want

Daniela

As the two of you become closer and closer, multiple things happen

1), Daniela and you catch feelings, fast

She quickly becomes important to you, and equally you become incredibly important to her

You look forward to spending your time with her, as does she

Even when this means the two of you curling up and reading side by side in the library, the two of you treasure these oments

2), the two of you spend a lot of time together

As such, Daniela becomes increasingly aware of your characteristics and mannerisms, intentional or not

Being somewhat feral as well, Daniela at first doesn’t even notice a thing

Clawing up clothing and pillows, gnawing at pencils, wood and whatever is near you when you’re concentrating…

It all seems perfectly normal to her, really

Yes, maybe some are prime examples of things Bela and Mother would scold her for

Still, for a long time she pays no mind to what you’re doing

In fact, it takes quite a while and an annoyed remark from her eldest sister for her to realise what you’re doing isn’t quite appreciated by all

She notices you claw at her favorite pillows when the two of you read

Really, you can’t help clenching it so tight it rips

You can’t help your sharp nails, too, and don’t want Daniela to file them down a little

She only shrugs when you refuse that solution

She won’t press you, though occasionally helps you take care of your hands and nails

Instead, she makes sure you have “your” pillows, scratched up and sewn together again countless times

This way, you can tear them as often as you like, and neither Daniela, nor Alcina minds

She tends to your needs, going so far as to ask you at one point whether you’d like some blood…which promptly has her older sisters smack the back of her head

Feeding a human blood, really!

Instead, she likes feeding you as you read, her giggles keeping you happy as you tear at yet another pillow

[savannahsdeath]

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: you come home after a lame party to see your roommate drinking by herself

warnings: 18+!!, smut, drinking, parties, creeps, a little bit of jealous!ellie, teasing and igg thats all

writers note: this is my first fanfic that im actually posting and omg i feel so stressed.. also english is not my first language and that makes it all even worse?!??!! feel free to correct me if something doesnt make sense because yeah i probably made some mistakes!! also id love to hear yalls opinion:3

You just came back from a party, disappointed and tired. You weren't drunk at all and that surprised your roommate - Ellie.

"Someone didn't have much fun, huh?" she laughed.

You look at her with an annoyed expression. She always teases you even though you hate it. She loves to hear about parties that didn't go well. She acts like she doesn't want you to have fun without her and you have no idea why.

"No." You simply say and shake your head as you take a seat on the sofa. As your eyes adjust to the dim light of the room, you can see her leaning back in her chair, casually lounging with a beer in her hand. The smile never leaves her face as she takes a long sip, clearly not concerned about your disposition.

"Mind if I take a sip? The alcohol back there was... I mean, it's pretty obvious how bad was it since I'm not completely wasted." Without waiting for an answer you stand up, take the glass from her hand, and feel a few big sips wash your throat.

She laughs again as you take a strong swig of her beer, your face contorting slightly from the bitter taste on your tongue. You set the glass back down on the table in front of her and sigh, not so subtly indicating she was right about you not having fun.

"You'd think they'd at least get some better stuff if they're gonna host a party." You comment, rubbing your forehead and stretching out on the sofa.

She shrugs as she takes back the glass and places it near her again. A sly smirk spreads across her face as she watches you, and you feel her eyes wandering around your body before meeting your gaze again.

"So," she starts, the tone of her voice indicating she's not interested in discussing the party or the alcohol, "what's wrong?"

You can feel her gaze on you a bit longer, and when you shift your head to look at her, you can see that she has turned around to face you directly. She's leaning back comfortably in her seat with her legs in a men-spread position, staring right back at you.

"Or am I just making things up in my head?" she asks with a smirk, as her eyes drift down to your chest and back up again.

Your cheeks flush, turning bright red. She has seen right through you, and you know it. Still, you refuse to allow the situation to make you feel weak. You lean on one arm, trying to hide your discomfort.

"Maybe I just had to deal with a few creeps, that's all." You respond, and your tone is as steady as you can keep it. You try not to look at her as you say this, but you can't help but notice how closely she is watching you. What did she think you were doing at this party?

She smirks again, shaking her head and taking another sip of her beer.

"Sure," she says. "creeps."

There was no point in arguing with her, and you know she won't drop it. Sighing again, you lean back into the sofa and look up at the ceiling.

"Fine," You give in, "a couple of guys tried hitting on me, but I wasn't interested."

But what's the difference between creeps and guys? These days - none.

She laughs softly, and you realize that you've probably made the situation worse.

She puts the beer glass down on the table, leaning forward slightly in her seat so she could face you directly.

"That happens," she says with a slight shrug. "But if I was there, they wouldn't even think about talking to you."

She stares directly at you as her words sink in, and you can feel your face flush as you turn away and back to the ceiling.

You sit there quietly for a few moments without looking back at her. You take a deep breath and rub your eyes, trying to settle down and compose yourself. You turn back to face her after another few seconds, and she's still sitting there with the same expression on her face, watching you quietly.

"Why's that?" You finally ask.

She raises one eyebrow and shrugs, a small smile playing around her lips.

"Because you'd be too busy talking to me."

You chuckle. "Yeah, like that would stop them. How arrogant of you to think I'd be so infatuated with you to ignore other people." You laugh, shifting so you can face her.

Ellie shrugs, smirking again and taking another sip of beer. "Sure you would." she chuckles.

You give her a smirk of your own, rolling your eyes and leaning back on the couch. "Whatever."

She chuckles again, shaking her head. "So you just didn't meet anyone that you liked?" she asks.

"No, nothing like that. Just a bad crowd." You shrug.

"What did they do wrong?" Ellie looks genuinely interested this time. She takes another sip of her beer, resting her head on the back of the couch as she listens intently to your reply. No matter how hard you try, you can't help but notice that her legs are still propped up towards you in a men-spread position. It's so close that your eyes almost instinctively dart down to her thighs for a brief moment.

"They were all so... I dunno, immature I guess," you answer, your voice trailing off slightly as you remember the scene from earlier.

She places the glass on the coffee table and sits next to you, on the couch. Ellie nods, listening carefully. "I get it," she says. "it's hard to find people who are on your level." She pauses for a moment before continuing, "But hey, at least you got to come home and hang out with me." She grins, nudging your arm playfully.

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess that's true," you say, feeling a little better now that you're back in the comfort of your own home with your roommate by your side. "Can we stop talking about the party?" You ask, turning to face her. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as your eyes drift to her thighs again, unintentionally this time. The room is still dimly lit, which makes it even harder to maintain eye contact.

Ellie leans back again and stretches her arms towards you, causing her shirt to ride up a bit and revealing her abs that always attracted you. She doesn't seem to notice as she tilts her head back and looks up at the ceiling, breathing out a long breath. Her hair falls across her face, covering half her face in a messy but beautiful way.

"This weekend just wasn't it, yeah?" she sighs, finally noticing you staring. Your cheeks turn bright red as she smiles mischievously. "Or would you rather go back to looking at my thighs again?" she teases, playfully rolling her eyes.

Shit, so she saw me staring!, you think. "I... yeah, that wasn't a fun weekend." You stutter, ignoring her last words, hoping she'll drop that topic.

Ellie leans in closer, her expression changing from playful to serious almost immediately. She takes your hand and places it gently on her thigh.

"I know you're nervous," she says softly. Her eyes search your face, noticing your flushed cheeks. "Just relax. Let me help you forget about that awful party."

She looks at your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, your fingers moving up and down her thigh, as a warm, tingly feeling settles in your stomach.

"Els, I..." You try to protest - you don't even know why, you want this to happen. Is it just stress? Even if so, you still don't move your hand away from where she placed it. And your attempt to protest doesn't succeed too - your words are cut off by Ellie's lips.

Ellie's hands slide up your body as she leans forward, her mouth pressing gently against yours. The heat in your stomach spreads throughout your body as warm, tingly sensations start to radiate throughout you. You feel Ellie's tongue slowly exploring your mouth as you both lean back into the sofa. Her tongue finds its way to your neck, slowly working its way downward to your chest. A gasp escapes your lips as your heart starts to beat even harder. Everything you know about Ellie begins to fade away as she gently bites at the skin on your neck.

Just then you realized why did you reject all of the boys at the party. No, they weren't creeps. Okay, maybe some of them... But mostly, they were nice guys. They just weren't your type. Ellie was. Her, and only her. You couldn't talk with those boys without thinking about your pretty roommate. Her abs, especially right after she took a shower, so they sparkle in the soft lighting of your shared living room. She was showing them off to tease you - her shirt 'accidentally' rolling up while she was taking something from a top shelf. Or her thighs that you couldn't help but stare at - they just looked so... rideable. You never admitted that but she knew. Her piercing green eyes saw it right through you.

Ellie pulls you even closer, her leg wrapping around your waist as she leans forward to kiss your neck again. She slowly bites and nibbles on the skin above your shirt, her mouth moving down even closer to your chest.

You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as the warm, tingly sensations start to take over your body. Your head starts to spin as everything around you begins to fade away. You forget about the tragic party - you forget about everything, to be honest. If someone asks you what's your name at this moment, you'd need a solid minute to think about it.

Ellie keeps nibbling at your neck, gently sucking on the skin as it turns red with her saliva. Her hands run through your hair, grabbing and pulling you even closer.

You feel Ellie move even closer as her hands travel down your back and toward your shirt. She slowly lifts it, running her nails over your spine as she goes. Your stomach flutters as she pulls your shirt off and lets it drop to the floor.

You would swear on your life you felt her smiling each time you let out any sound - either a moan or just a small, soft, and quiet sigh.

Ellie's leg, the one that was wrapped around your waist, is now between your thighs, pressing on your climax.

"See? Told ya, you just need to relax..." She presses her lips against your ear, whispering between the kisses. "Good job, very good."

You feel Ellie's leg rub against you, her fingers traveling through your hair, making you shiver from the touch. You try to control yourself, but it's like everything is beyond your control now.

The warm, tingly sensations become even more intense, traveling up your throat and into your stomach. Your heart starts racing, and your breathing grows deeper and faster, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

You feel Ellie's tongue travel lower and lower, moving down your stomach, and your breathing grows even more intense. You feel yourself growing in excitement the longer she goes, your chest rising up and down, the warm tingly sensations spreading through your entire body. You can't believe this is happening, every touch only increases the intensity of the sensations. This is a whole new world, the world of Ellie, and you are lost in it like never before. You can't help but wonder how a conversation with your roommate about an awful party turned into... whatever was happening right now.

You feel Ellie's fingers move down your body, slowly raising your skirt and exposing the soft, smooth skin underneath. She slides her fingers up slowly, your leg trembling as you feel warm, tingly sensations on the skin of your thigh, stomach, and waist. Your body shivers with each touch, your mind is completely overwhelmed with the rush of stimuli. You notice her eyes drifting downwards with your skirt, looking up at you again with a smirk.

"Why are you still wearing this?" she whispers, pulling up your skirt slightly higher.

"O-oh.. uh.." You stammer out, feeling your heart grow even more feverish. You can hear her breathing getting heavier with each touch, your breathing quickening as you struggle to catch it. You can barely think straight, all logic and reason thrown out of the window.

She continues moving your skirt up, inch by inch, with her lips following closely after. Your thoughts go blank as you feel exposed to her lips and her eyes. She moves her other hand to cover your stomach, her fingers exploring the warm, sensitive skin of your thighs and hips. The touch, the heat, the pressure...it's all too much. Your body trembles and shakes as your legs open to make way for her mouth. Your mind feels like it's melting away, and you feel yourself grow inside as every movement increases the intense pleasure you feel. Your fingers dig into the tattoo on her forearm. Normally you'd feel guilty, thinking it may hurt her, but now you thought she deserves it. Hell, she deserves way more after how insane she's making you feel!

And here she was, taking your panties off and leaving your skirt on but rolling it up. Not only your legs were fighting to stay open - your eyes too. But every time you closed them she would sternly say: "No, love, I need you to look at me." And so you did.

It was harder than you thought. Your limits were being tested each moment Ellie left a long lick on your clit. You were wet before she even touched you but she took her time anyway.

When she was done playing with you using her tongue, one of her hands started rubbing your clit, while the other traced soft paths on your body. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, never missing your sensitive spot, even though at this point you thought every spot on your body is sensitive when it comes to her. She just knew what she was doing and that surprised you. She always kept telling you about all the girls she fucked, that's true, but you thought she was making things up to annoy you.

"Come on, Els, just because you saw a guy hitting on me doesn't mean you need to tell me about every one of your little lovers." You rolled your eyes at her.

"Wha-? Are you jealous?" She laughed, leaning towards you to tease you even more.

Of course, you were, but that's not the point. "You're the jealous one! A guy complimented me and you just can't get over it, trying to make me all guilty."

"Why would I care?" She asked trying to act as careless and confused by your assumptions as possible. Then she went back to talking about how she could have every girl in Jackson if only she wanted to (to make you jealous, of course [she won, you turned out to be mad as fuck at her for looking at other girls when you were right here]). You had to keep your cool so you simply answered her "Every girl except me."

And now she was making both of your lips drool. She made you go completely insane, turned you into a whining wreck. Your hair messy, your eyes either closing or rolling back, your fingers digging into her flesh.

And you loved every second of it.