#oops it went on a bit

[hinamie]

yeah sorry theyre tragic in this au too

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[bengallemon]

Vincent is here to inform you that if You have been goin 5 years exhausted and fatigued out of your mind and struggling to feel things a lot of the time then go to a doctor!

[artuurle]

ends of the earth

[gael-garcia]

Gael García Bernal, La mala educación (2004)

[a-most-beloved-fool]

For the ask prompt game...

Spirk #17 to distract

"Report," Kirk ordered. The word buzzed low against Spock's ear, quiet and audibly tense.

"Less than two minutes until they reach our location, Captain," Spock replied promptly. "Commander Scott will need at least another eight before the transporter is operable again." His voice was equally hush, despite their perceived solitude. He had seen carelessness take far too many lives during his time in Starfleet; he would not allow it to take his captain as well - and, illogically, Spock could not quite dispense of the phantom sensation of eyes on the back of his neck.

"We'll need to bluff it," Kirk decided, looking grim.

His gaze was strangely intense against Spock, full of rioting emotion, and, almost, Spock wished to look away. He did not. Instead, he nodded, holding steady eye contact.

The odds, Spock knew, that Kirk's gambit - whatever it may be - would succeed were... poor. The guards had, after all, seen their faces. But Kirk would keep fighting right until the bitter end, and Spock, of course, would be right beside him.

Solemn, he vowed, "I shall follow your lead," though he knew Kirk would not have doubted it. Still, the unnecessary words were well worth the way the tension around Kirk's eyes melted away, the somber set of his mouth slipping instead into a golden-edged smile.

Almost wonderingly, a soft chuckle fell from those lips, incongruous in their surroundings and entirely treasured. "What would I do without you?" Kirk asked, reaching up to exert gentle pressure on Spock's bicep.

I pray you never need find out, Spock made to say, getting only so far as drawing in breath before the sound of distant footsteps drew them both from their quiet moment, snuffing the words before they could take shape. "Eighteen seconds," he said instead, after rapidly adjusting his calculations. Faster than anticipated.

Kirk nodded, some unreadable emotion hiding in the soft crease between his brows.

"Forgive me, Mr. Spock," Kirk said softly, and Spock did not have time to question what he meant before Kirk was pulling him down by his shirt, dragging their lips together with great urgency.

Quite suddenly, Spock found that his mind was entirely blank. Strange heat flickered through his whole form, and his universe narrowed to only Kirk, all soft and human-warm, who was pressed flush to his chest and kissing him.

One, then two seconds stuttered by in which Spock thought no thoughts at all, struck utterly motionless in the face of such unexpected attentions. He only felt, swept away by the sensation of pliant lips against his own and warm fingers stroking through his hair, gently mussing.

The very first thought to break to the surface was simply, Jim. A wave of emotion flooded in with it, astonishment and affection sweeping over him in such quantities that he felt nearly lightheaded.

The second was, We will be caught, and Spock jolted as something near to panic rose up inside his gullet, urging him to take Jim into his arms and run.

The third, however, was not his own; it was pressed into his katra from the outside by Jim's careful fingers, his clever mind slipping easily past Spock's shields. Play along, he said, projecting deliberate calm through their connection. Still, Jim was unpracticed in telepathic arts, and beneath that false serenity Spock could feel a tangle of guilt and determination, bitter and writhing.

The truth came to Spock in one fell swoop.

Jim's gambit... was this.

His lips and his hands, which pressed themselves so tenderly to Spock's skin, were not for him.

It was not love which had drawn his captain into his arms, but mere utility. Jim had realized what Spock had not: though they could not hide themselves, they could, perhaps, distract from themselves.

Two men attempting to look inconspicuous would only draw suspicion. Two men locked in a romantic embrace, however, may be overlooked - or even deliberately ignored. Few were comfortable with looking closely at the private passions of strangers, and fewer still would see reason to. Those searching for them, Spock hoped, would not. There would be no logic in halting an escape attempt solely for a kiss, after all.

Therefore, in order to escape unnoticed, they must be convincing.

They must seem, to any observers, to be completely and entirely immersed in one another, with no care for anything going on in their surroundings, and no fear of discovery.

Two lives, purchased with a kiss.

It was entirely logical, then, for Spock to part his lips, inviting Jim's tongue to dip inside of the wet cave of his mouth and meeting it with his own. If a groan rumbled deep within his chest, it could surely only help their cause; there was no need to swallow it down.

This disguise would, Spock observed as Jim's tongue flicked gently at his mouth, be far easier to maintain than it had any right to be.

It was a terribly simple matter for a man in love to behave as though he were a man in love.

The difficult part, then, would be remembering that it was a ruse. Already, heat bubbled deep within Spock, aching want suffusing his every neuron. Every faint brush of flesh sent golden tendrils of telepathic energy sparking across his skin, and it was all Spock could manage to hold himself back from pressing hungry fingers to Jim's meldpoints and sinking into that wonderfully enticing mind.

Instead, Spock slipped a hand beneath the hem of Jim's shirt, rucking up the cloth until he was tracing patterns across a smooth expanse of golden skin. He flexed his hand, allowing his nails to scratch carefully along Jim's spine, and did not permit himself to consider reaching upwards, to Jim's face - or worse: downwards, beyond the waistband of his pants.

He wondered if Jim would have chosen this, had he known how very much Spock wanted.

Perhaps it was selfish of Spock to allow it.

Still, he could not force himself away - not when Jim's life was at stake. The kiss was his lifeline, and so the kiss must remain.

The touch of their minds, however, did nothing to aid Jim. It was solely for Spock's benefit, taken from Jim without his knowledge or intent.

That, Spock could end.

If Jim was to unknowingly place himself into the hands of someone who wanted more than he would wish to give, then Spock would take it upon himself to be his protector - even if the one he must protect against was himself.

And so, Spock opened himself to every offered touch, and girded his mind against every stray thought, until not a single wisp of golden energy could find its way past his defenses.

When Jim's thigh nudged its way between Spock's legs, Spock spread his stance wider, allowing him to press closer, and did not let himself feel. His hands grasped and squeezed at the soft flesh beneath them, drawing quiet gasps from a pink-flushed throat, and no pleasant hum buzzed against his fingertips, carrying with it the flavor of human emotion. Jim nipped at his lips and pet at his hair, and Spock pressed every scrap of yearning deep down within himself to where they couldn't emerge.

Eyes closed and spirit aching, Spock kissed him.

_____________

from this ask game

[ch1zzie]

Julie!

[crystalitar]

Merry Cybugmas!

A festive King Candy Cybug for the special occasion~ Would you stand under his mistletoe?

[dagrapesody]

Haiii just wanted to say thank you for 100 followers

I shall give you ugly Marxolor doodles

(My persona btw)

[the-heron]

i dont think we talk enough about john bridgens and henry peglar. just like in general. and that is a crime

[lelianaslefthand]

real as fuck for that

[angeart]

Howwwww did you angst the world tour?? 🎀

this question made me giggle so much oh i'm glad you asked :3c there was so much yummy grian angst in the hc world tour!

it's all about grian and his penchant for destruction. he doesn't even mean to! he's not trying to be pesky; quite the opposite. he's curious but restrained, trying to be good, trying to follow instructions. he's not malicious at all! he's just there to see what people were up to, open and friendly and curious, eager to look and learn and praise. not a bad intention in sight... and yet things seem to break wherever he goes. everything he touches goes wrong.

the guilt churns, acidic and overwhelming, and grian's miserable. why is he like this? he's trying so hard, why is this the only way he can ever be? why can't it stop?

spoilers for grian's world tour video below <3

plantie pointed out to me how, during the tour of scar's train, when grian got rid of scar's arrows—the glitched ones that doc put there—he was so desperate to point it out after scar just glossed over it. as if he wanted to show that he can do something good. he can be helpful, he can fix things instead of just breaking everything.

but then we have all the other things, right? grian can't escape it.

when he was with etho and the mushroom farm exploded, he sums it up in a wretched if confused apology: "i'm so sorry. the two times i tried to use it, i broke it :( and created a water source floating— which i don't know how it happened— and flung the TNT, which i really don't understand—"

they move on, but it's so clear it lingers.

etho isn't blaming him. he's amused and brushes it off and moves along, unbothered, but grian himself can't wrap his head around it. about that propensity to breaking things, even unintentionally. the way nothing is safe around him.

he tells etho: "i can't stop thinking about your mushroom farm. why does everything i touch break, in new and unexpected ways?"

(not to mention when etho's showing him frogger and grian plays, almost instantly etho goes: "uh-oh, the game's broken", with a little huff of laugh. it wasn't exactly tied to anything grian did, but still something i wanted to point out, since grian was there for it <3)

and then grian goes to zedaph, right?

the very first game zedaph shows him. the very first. grian plays the way he was told to, the way he was meant to, and— he breaks it.

zedaph just laughs and moves them on.

(just sprinkling in a side note that zedaph's furnace minigame also didn't seem to work the way it should've—)

by the time grian gets to pearl's, it's starting to be a pattern that's so clearly eating away at him, making him anxious. he doesn't want it to happen again!

and yet.

pearl invites him to play her wordle game, and grian mindlessly goes and pushes the wrong button trying to start it... instantly stepping away with a quiet groan of a dread-filled "...oh-" followed by: "i just— ruined it already."

there's something about the mood switch. the way he seems more restrained and tame, silently upset with himself, trying so hard not to mess things up further. questioning why this is happening again. why he can't stop making it happen.

he walks over to the reset game button and asks, carefully: "can i press reset? is it gonna hurt? 🥺👉👈"

pearl reassures him he can, with a sigh noting that it'll just take a while.

there's an almost hysteric laugh from grian, followed by an exasperated, upset scream. "everything i touch breaks! when i went to e— i broke etho's thing when i went to— not frogger, his— his mushroom farm i— it blew up."

"you blew up his mushroom farm?? how? what did you do?!"

"yeah, i— i broke zed's game, instantly, pretty much, it's—"

"oh my gosh :("

"sorry 🥺"

pearl is quick to reassure him, though. "well, luckily for you, this is— you doing that (pushing the wrong button) does not break the game. it's just, you now have to wait for it to reset."

she makes sure grian knows that he didn't mess up anything terribly here. he didn't break pearl's game. it's okay! it's fine!

and then grian right clicks to open the book, and instead makes bonemeal pop out of a composter.

i think at this point pearl is a little bit taken aback by how wrong everything really seems to be going around grian. she makes sure to say, "it's fine," again, just so grian won't start worrying about it all again. "you're clicking on everything that people do not usually click on today. but it's okay. it's still not broken! it's not broken, it's alright, it's okay— i've got failsaves for people like you."

it's so sweet how she really tries to soothe him— and yet she can't help but let out that last remark.

people like you.

those few words surely lodge in more than all the reassurances. they're like splinter, proving grian right.

eventually, he gets to skizz.

during the tour of skizz's base, skizz shows him a horse statue and starts talking about how he lost his first horse at an event that grian was also a part of. and grian's stomach instantly sinks.

he asks hushedly, a bit confused, trying to remember: "was i there?"

skizz laughs. "you were absolutely there, dude."

which leads grian to ask, uneasily: "did i do it?"

skizz waves his hands, quick to easily reassure that no! that's not it, grian didn't do it!

grian lets out an oh with such palpable relief, and goes on to explain about how, "i remember witnessing it, but sometimes it's hard to disentangle whether i did it or not. coz i tell you what, on this tour i've broken everyone's stuff."

nobody was upset with grian when things broke, but here he is, several hermits down, still unable to leave it to rest. because it's him. it's him who did all of that, somehow, and he didn't mean to, but it doesn't matter. it happened anyway.

and now he can't even tell what is and what isn't his fault anymore.

the guilt is deep rooted, leaving anxious assumptions and dark, jagged precipices. how much did he destroy? what else should he be feeling guilty about? how far does this go?

he keeps breaking things, and it's such a blur that he can no longer tell what is and what isn't his fault.

the tour continues, and he delves into skizz's pyramid. and it's just— it's just a tunnel to swim through. nothing to mess up, besides potentially dying to suffocation, right?

and yet you can hear skizz shrilly exclaim: "oh he's going to end up breaking something!!"

and, (plantie's words: ) grian hearing that and just wondering, is that all i'm good for? is that all i'm known for? is that all i am?

there's no room for doubt; not really. that is what grian does, all the time, whether he wants to or not. he breaks stuff. he just— he doesn't mean to. and this tour is one big show of how powerless he is against it. (how everyone expects it from him anyway.)

despite it all, grian perseveres, trying out skizz's game, stubbornly dedicated and trying to win. (to pass; to have something to be proud of, at least—) and he gets to the powdered snow section.

there, he jumps across to a pathway that he was meant to circle to through the snow instead.

it's not breaking anything, not really. not even the rules. it's not cheating! he's just— he just did something skizz did not expect, but that was entirely possible within the game's design, even if not intended. he exploited it to his advantage; a risky, tricky shortcut.

and yet skizz remarks with a laugh: "this is what grian does! he breaks games!"

no matter what grian does... is that all he'll ever be?

is that all they'll see?

he fails getting through skizz's game, is thanked for play-testing, praises it all, they talk it all away, and...

and then grian goes to tour mumbo's base.

and fails to even die properly to his llama—

and then mumbo shows him his archive machine, and instantly panicks when grian gets curious about it, begging him not to touch anything. and grian says: "your stomach just fell through didn't it?" and after mumbo's immediate agreement, he adds: "and rightfully so. coz, almost everything i've touched on this tour has broken."

there's not a sliver of surprise to mumbo's anxious rushed: "yeah, yeah yeah! please stop now." because, of course things have broken. of course what grian touches is bound to go wrong. of course—

and then mumbo very carefully tells grian what to do with the machine.

grian does as he's told.

mumbo looks up and pauses, a frown crossing his face as he takes it in. he notes that grian probably did it too fast—

(something went wrong)

(something broke)

mumbo says: "i can't believe you come along and every single thing in my base starts [going wrong/breaking/malfunctioning]"

and then grian mysteriously ends up with an extra book from mumbo's machine, much to mumbo's dismay. grian's confused, cogs spinning as he tries to figure out what did he mess up this time to result in this.

it's clear mumbo wants grian away from his machine. it's not safe. (grian isn't safe.)

"maybe just give that to me and maybe just step away from the contraption. and then— maybe just leave me to—"

grian's upset and bewildered voice cuts in: "i didn't do anything wrong this time :(("

he's trying so hard.

he's trying so hard to be good and do things right and not mess anything up.

(it isn't working.)

(it's never bound to work, is it?)

mumbo ushers him away, and ends up showing him another cool invention—an elevator. except the second mumbo hits the button, a creeper shows up and explodes it. (it's midday.) (it wasn't even meant to be there.)

this one isn't grian's fault at all, but with everything that's happened— well, it's easy enough to link it to grian's presence. like a bad luck omen.

apprehensively, grian asks if the elevator broke, and mumbo—a bit bewildered by the reality of it—says that no, it seems to still work. "amazingly," he tacks on, disbelieving.

grian's relieved. "ohh, i thought we were in big trouble there!"

besides himself, mumbo anxiously agrees: "augh. i was like, if every single creation that i show breaks in some fashion, i'm just gonna quit."

because this isn't normal. none of this is, least of all everything at once. it simply doesn't happen.

(not when grian isn't there, anyway.)

mumbo notes that he needs to work on his lighting, and grian nods wisely saying it's a perpetual issue, but the anxiety is digging its talons in now, unrelenting. (what else is going to go bad in grian's presence? what else will he mess up? what else will he break? why is he like this?)

another remark that comes after this is mumbo's nervous: "i've actually just built up the automatic sorter which does this—which you're not gonna touch. we're banned from touching any redstone contraptions!"

and what can grian do but oblige? (but he can at least look, right?)

but does it ever change anything?

does it matter?

-

at the end of the day, the others don't think too much about it.

they all say their part, pass their judgment, wave their hands, dismiss, move on. it doesn't keep them up at night.

... i think it might keep grian up at night.

a cacophonous collection of word snippets, aimed at him or woven around him, digging under his skin until it bleeds. a noose of inescapable fate, a tightening band around his chest that promises he can only ever be one thing:

a vessel for destruction.

it doesn't matter if he wants to be.

shackles and chains and a cosmic inevitability written into his skin, etched into his bones, tangled into his bloodstream. and an ever-rising guilt like stormy sea, far above his head now, drowning him.

(maybe he's not meant to be near other people and their things.)

(maybe he's not meant to touch games that were constructed with so much effort and love and passion poured into them.)

(maybe he shouldn't—)

==========

bonus screenshots from discord DMs (with extra sprinkles of hmtb mentions):

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bonus hmtb quotes because i kept thinking about it:

He always destroys the things he loves most, after all.

and:

He destroyed everything he touched, and when there was nothing left, he destroyed the only remaining thing: himself.

-

[artuurle]

(AU)

What if you died and something divine loved you so much it couldn't cope with that fact? What if they tried bringing you back but the result was wrong?

More doodles + rambles below:

Now What if what came back was just off. Looks at the divine without the memories that went back decades. It looks, behaves and works in a way just off enough in a way to make the god unable to look at it. it's not you. it's not. it can't be.

.... but what if what got pulled back was still you, but its- YOU'RE wrong and broken in ways you cant understand anymore.

The apocalypse draws closer and closer and you don't know why every day that passes you seem to be falling more and more apart too. The god is gone. You are alone.

....Anyway yeah i fucked up a perfectly normal Lovestory Au. i gave it anxiety is what i did. sorry for horrid typing in 2nd person trying to explain stuff im bad at explaining <3 i draw, not write for a reason lol.

[circetalia]

Just beat Mass Effect Andromeda, and I wasn't expecting the AURORA song at the end!!

I really enjoyed it, I'm gonna do a few more playthroughs for some trophies (mainly romance one, gotta romance Gil and Jaal, maybe Peebee?)

Romanced Reyes, obviously. I always try too, I've said it before and I'll say it again. I have a type in video game men *cough* Illario and Elek *cough*

[soundleer]

im so tired but my brain is still thinking of this one headcanon latelyyyy

what if jevin is like a librarian as one of his hobbies, especially assigned to lend safe tomes and archives and keep watch of the forbidden ones... this crossed my mind bc he reminded me of blueberry pie cookie from cookie run. jevin would look similar to her if he was a cookie like...

c'mon like look at them, do you see my vision- i seem to REALLY like blue lads who rarely smiles and do magic oopsieee

....OH I HAVE AN IDEAAAAAA!!!! but i gotta yap on the tags though (so used to doing that, its like whispering to me and i like to whisper my thoughts lol)

[aem-delnar-asca]

the moment Pomni invited Gummygoo to the circus, I got the feeling that it would go wrong, unfortunately I was right.

but also Im sure he'll come back, though to add salt to the wound, I HIGHLY believe that... since he's AI, Caine could easily reset his memory since he's just a code, especially if Caine wanted them to do a repeat of that game scenario.

You know... Like when you do a "new game" or whatever.

Just imagine Pomni seeing him again and she's all excited, apologizing and everything, but then he's all like...

"Who are you?"

finishing this episode made me realize that every NPC Caine creates are VERY powerless.

Pomni and the others too, but... Caine can't really do much about that and he also sees them as more valuable since they have a human consciousness, more special and complex (for example, trying to keep them sane by sending them off to play games)

Meanwhile NPCs to him are replaceable and reusable. I don't think that Caine is malicious for that since he's also just an AI (though one who's in a ringleader role), though the only value they have in his eyes is to play their part of the game as NPCs for the humans to play with.

Jax also sees the NPCs like that, not caring when he supposed sentenced the whole kingdom into getting eaten. He knows it wouldn't matter, Ragatha mentioned Caine likes to reause NPCs in future games. Jax knows he'll see them again, alive and well.

The existential horror in this one is really real and fucked up...

Anyways, can't wait to see more!

[mossymandibles]

What's gender affirming care like on hallowed carrion?

Good question, it can be a little wild west out there, even just with regular hospice/holistic care, depending on where you’re at and which species or community you belong to. I’d say on Mors Astra (name of the planet), sexuality and gender expression can be as eclectic and varied as most animals/humans irl….Um, I guess I’m going to info dump about my individual trans characters and their experiences as well as how some of the main species would view it over all and hope that it answers your question. I’ll also be creating other sophont species that could have different views on things so there’s that too.

Also content warning ahead for forms of transphobia and gender dysmorphia topics.

For the Myce I’d say for the most part getting something like a cosmetic change is no biggie to them, as they don’t tend to have strict guidelines for gender expression. It probably wouldn’t go as in depth as it does with mammalians, surgically and medication wise. Their nerves and vessels grow back easier and such. Even their genitalia is strictly geared towards pleasure, like a miniature sexual mycorrhizal network of nerve endings. There’s no sperm or eggs involved. Their genitals may go by human guild lines in terms of appearance, but they can get pretty wild looking. I haven’t quite thought it through entirely just yet but I guess they might have their own form of T and E, if they cosmetically wanted breasts or a more phallic attachment, etc. I feel like they’d go more along the route of genetic expression rather than hormones though. There isn’t really a huge societal rift between who expresses themselves as feminine, masculine, etc. (although there could always be some strange cults and eccentrics out there!) I’d say to them it’s more important that you look conventionally humanoid. If you’re a bloom face (like Heidi), or have a tail/ horns or look more ‘animalistic’ and ‘othered’ for that matter, you’re more likely to face some stigma in certain regions populated by Myce. This derives from early on when the Myce were first coming into being. They were called changelings, ‘faefolk’, fairies, etc, and caused a lot of widespread fear and misconceptions. They associate such terms with being considered monstrous, diseased, etc.

They don’t reproduce like mammals, as they technically aren’t mammals, so luckily for them natal affairs and giving birth aren’t tied to any specific gender and are entirely up to the individuals who want to go that route.

*takes another deep breath*

In the case of Vveashuls, I think they’re a little more ‘traditional’ so to speak. (Tbh I think I’ve ended up expressing some deep seated frustrations with what I’m surrounded by everyday in them, oops! No fault of the Vveashuls ofc.)

With Vveashuls, many pockets of them tend to put a lot of value in procreation, having several kids, being able to breastfeed them on your own, etc. One should always put the family first.

In the past, while they lived on Zenith as one species, having litters and as many healthy kits as possible meant their survival. Often times their young would be culled by the Furies in order to keep their numbers down and keep them under control. Mind, not ALL Furies kept Vveashuls in servitude, just certain rooks.

Where they’re out from under the Furies control now, they hold pride in keeping big families, staying together, the next generation raised by the previous, etc.. A lone Vveashul is seen as strange, or that something is wrong with them. In the modern day, this creates a lot of pressures.

In Jago’s case, he grew up in a town of very traditional views; the idea of a Vveashul that can get pregnant getting rid of their breasts or their ability to give birth/ taking hormones was unheard of or seen as a selfish act of self mutilation. Males transitioning to females were seen as ‘useless’ or strange pretenders. Even just starting out, his family was very small, just him and his father.

Jago didn’t even really know what felt ‘off’ about himself until he met Kraw, Titus, Mayv and her crew. Puberty only made it more painfully obvious. Once he was old enough and sure of himself (this was after he and Kraw had parted ways the first time) It was very difficult for him to get any kind of treatment for such things geared towards his kind, even in Ladder occupied cities. He had to go under the table for most of his surgeries and medications, which put him in many dangerous situations. With his primary breasts still intact, he still feels like he’s not where he wants to be. The fact that the last surgeon to remove his secondary ones left him with obvious scars is frustrating as well. The whole process had just exhausted him overall. So he focused more on work.

On top of taking hormones, he would often have to take suppressors (yeah, those.) otherwise he’d go into heat and get all swollen and sensitive (it’s also fairly normal for female Vveashuls to take suppressors lest they deal with going into heat in day to day life, which can be very inconvenient in the modern day.)

He absolutely hates how he gets without the suppressors, as it only adds to his dysmorphia.

He’d occasionally have to deal with his old work mates making fun of him about it. They referred to him as a male, sure, but he still felt like they saw him as playing pretend. They would make comments like “oohh you’re grumpy today, are you off your meds?” Where they were mostly Myce, they didn’t deal with the average hang ups of mammalian sophonts and usually found it strange or funny.

Jago wants to be completely severed from the idea of having and mothering kids, the expectations of female Vveashuls, etc. I’d go as far as to say he’s had legitimate tokophobia his entire life. But he’s feels somewhat apprehensive of further surgeries for the time being, at least until he finds someone trustworthy and experienced. Who knows! He might find one in Marrowtide.

*deep breath*

THANKFULLY, where he lives now with Kraw and the others in Marrowtide, he’s in a MUCH more accepting/progressive environment, so I’d say that definitely helps him with the dysmorphia and anxieties of how his body looks. Despite being intimidated by Sylvaine, he gladly take his hormones and suppressors from her, where she also supplies them for Kraw in order to temporarily stave off his occasional ‘rut’ aggression (they’re almost like a birth control). Even other Vveashuls in Marrowtide wouldn’t care that Jago’s gotten surgery. Most of them probably escaped to Marrowtide in order to get away from stifling environments as well.

Disclaimer ofc: I don’t see having kids/ a big family etc as inherently stifling or negative by any means, I’m only referring to harmful beliefs and pressures that may come from growing up in a family with very controlling traditional viewpoints.

In Durja’s case, pockets of Fury cultures vary from rook to rook (‘rook’ being similar to a clan). Most are matriarchal. Durja herself was a sentry and the occasional personal concubine for the ‘Crowned Matron’ at the time (matriarchal leader of the rook). They don’t really perceive being trans, only caring that you are strong and tactical. Though, I’d say if you were looking to transition to female it would be very dangerous, as most of the females would take that as a challenge. In that same way a female transitioning to a male might be seen as weak. Within the Furies species, most of the time the females are bigger, stronger and tend to be more aggressive, even possessing pseudo-penises. They’re also polygamous.

I’d say she’s gotten most of her ideas of what she wants for herself by having watched Sylvaine in relationships for a while, thus deciding she wanted to be loved romantically in such a manner rather than the usual domineering way she had been used to. Taking in the strengths she’d see among the female Furies and she’s got her own image she’s made for how she presents herself.

She hasn’t personally dealt with any type of body dysmorphia and wasn’t interested in taking hormones from Sylvaine despite her offering, deciding she was fine with herself. (In fact, having a noticeable bulge as a female would be seen as desirable among Furies and Sylvaine definitely doesn’t complain).

Anyway, I hope that gives some insight for how it may be in some regions of Mors Astra. I think I just like to imagine animal hierarchies applied to creatures with human intelligence is all idk lol.