#the whole the mc is so male -coded thing……

[mvalentine]

everytime i re-read this book i get more and more annoyed at how underrated it is….. like they make me so mentally ill. you guys just don’t get it!

[dollyswishingwell]

So I had a thought which is dangerous but I digress. What if MC has like too much rizz and this is pre-relationship with our obsessive lads boys. Like, the boys love her and she's oblivious to their feelings, and whilst that happens, she's literally always catching hearts left and right. Barista that works at Destiny Cafe? She gives MC free coffee all the time. A group of male insects walk by? They're all running into poles or trip over themselves. And she's loving all this attention while the boys are like "IM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE AND READY TO TAKE CARE OF YOU!!!!"

Like these ppl will not leave the gurl alone and the lads boys are this close 🤏 to committing so many crimes and getting sentenced to life in prison. That's all for my speech today 🙌

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ level 10 Rizz

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, crack, this is so funny to me :D

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Your rizz is endless but so is your ignorance

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

– Rafayel is literally deranged over you. He watches from a distance as you effortlessly steal hearts without even meaning to. Hair toss? Cute laugh? Eye contact? He’s gripping the nearest surface.

– You think you’re just being friendly. You don’t notice the barista at Destiny Café slipping you an extra espresso shot and scribbling hearts on the cup. Raf sees it. Raf memorizes the name of the barista. Raf is not okay.

– You’re smiling at a random passing group of guys, and they all trip over their own feet like a scene from a rom-com. You giggle and wave. Rafayel is behind you, absolutely vibrating with rage-coded infatuation.

– “Don’t you get tired of entertaining losers?” he’ll mutter, trailing after you like a too-hot shadow.

“Aw, you jealous?”

Raf laughs hollowly “Don’t test me, pretty girl.”

– When you sweetly ask his opinion on what to wear for your “casual night out,” he stares at you like you just asked if you should walk into traffic.

“…No,” he says simply.

“Why not?”

“Because if you walk out in that, I’ll have to break at least three necks tonight, and I’m already tired.”

– He’s constantly softening his voice around you, acting all chill and teasing like, “Go ahead, keep collecting fans, pretty thing.” But inside he’s screaming. Like actually screaming.

– When you say things like “You’re such a good friend, Raffy!” he goes straight to the underworld to take out his frustration on a criminal syndicate.

“I’m not your friend,” he whispers to himself, with a shattered smile.

– But then, when you do give him even a little of that rizz? When you wink at him, or cup his cheek playfully? He glitches. He malfunctions. His brain just, stop.

– “You’re going to ruin me,” he finally says one day, voice low and close to your ear. “And I’m going to let you. But for god’s sake, stop smiling at everyone like that unless it’s going to be me.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

– Zayne has spent his whole life controlling his emotions. But you? You make control a myth.

– You walk into the hospital cafeteria, flash that pretty smile at the intern behind the register, and suddenly he’s giving you a “loyalty card” with 10 free meals already stamped.

Zayne sees. Zayne notes it. Zayne adjusts his cufflinks like he isn’t plotting to reassign that intern to the basement archives.

– You’re talking to a male nurse and laughing. The guy’s flirting, blushing, adjusting his scrubs.

“He’s sweet.”

Zayne, stone-faced: “He’s an idiot.”

“You think everyone’s an idiot.”

“No. Just the ones who think they have a chance.”

– He’s walking with you through the hospital lobby and some guy dares to wink at you. Zayne’s hand is suddenly at your lower back. Gentle, guiding, but possessive.

“Oh? Playing bodyguard?”

“Would you prefer they try again?”

– You think Zayne’s just your “grumpy doctor friend” who’s always sighing and adjusting your jacket or handing you water like he’s keeping you alive.

Zayne is, in fact, clinically obsessed with you. You are his favorite case study in restraint.

– “This guy at the gym asked for my number. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne: blinks slowly

“…You’re not going back to that gym.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. And you’re getting a home gym. I’ll install it myself.”

– You’ll lean on his shoulder all sweet and unaware, going, “You’d tell me if someone liked me, right?”

And this man, this emotionally constipated man, will look at you like you just split open his ribcage.

“…No,” he says eventually.

“…Why not?”

“Because I’m not ready to see what happens if I do.”

– But every time you rizz him up without realizing, when you casually touch his wrist, or hum while standing too close, or look up at him with those eyes?

He has to take a measured breath. Like he’s about to go into surgery. Because he is fighting for his life.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

– Xavier stands beside you like a statue of serenity. Meanwhile, his brain is short-circuiting every time you unintentionally destroy another person’s will to live with your beauty.

– You giggle, “That vendor gave me this necklace for free. Said it matched my eyes.”

Xavier turns away and mumbles to himself “I should have bought the entire booth.”

– You smile at some poor delivery guy who nearly drops a box of flowers at your feet.

“That was sweet, right?”

Xavier: “…He was sweating.”

“So?”

“I was two seconds from incinerating him.”

– You lean over his arm while scrolling through new outfits, asking, “Would this look good on me?” and he’s frozen in place like a system update failed.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even look?”

“I’ve already memorized your measurements. It would look perfect.”

– “This guy at the café said I looked like a star.”

Xavier, smiling gently: “He’s not wrong.”

You: “You’re not mad?”

Xavier: smile widens just slightly “No. Stars burn out, after all.”

– People flirt with you constantly. Xavier is always there. Silently appearing at your side. Soft-spoken. Menacingly polite. He will stare someone into evaporating.

Barista: “Here’s your drink, angel~”

Xavier, behind you: “Thank you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t drink it.”

– When you’re sweet and lean into him like, “Xav, you’re the only one who doesn’t flirt with me!” he just stares.

“You think I’m not flirting?” he murmurs, voice low. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

– And every time you call him “my favorite,” or playfully hold onto his sleeve, or rest your head on his chest?

He stands perfectly still, soaking it in like you’re light and he’s the void that wants to keep you forever.

– He goes home, lies on the couch face-down, and screams into the cushions. Then probably wakes up four hours later under the coffee table. Still in love. Still suffering.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

– Sylus is the type to stand in the back of a gala, swirling his drink, eyes fixed on you while ten people try to flirt with him. He doesn’t even blink.

You’re across the room, smiling like sin, and he’s already rewriting his will to include your name on everything.

– You: “This guy at the salon offered me a discount today. Said it’s ‘criminal to charge someone so beautiful.’”

Sylus: doesn’t laugh. doesn’t smile.

Sylus: “What’s criminal is how many limbs I’m willing to break for that kind of nonsense.”

– Every time someone hits on you, Sylus isn’t jealous, he’s offended. Like, how dare they breathe your air as if it belongs to them?

– You wear something cute. He stares. You catch him. He smirks.

You: “Too much?”

Sylus: “No. Let them look.”

pause

Sylus, voice lower: “I’ll be the one undressing you, eventually.”

– He watches you lead men on accidentally, smiling, tilting your head, touching arms like you’re just being sweet, and he laughs under his breath.

“You really don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

– You: “Why are you always around when I get hit on?”

Sylus: “Why are you always surprised when I am?”

You: “Coincidence?”

Sylus: “No. Surveillance.”

– He’s smug as hell when you cling to him in public. You wrap your arms around his, looking all pretty and unaware, and he melts internally.

“Careful, darling,” he murmurs, “You’ll make me think you’re mine already.”

– But the second you call him your “partner-in-crime” or “best friend”?

He’s shutting the world down for a moment. Recalculating.

“Friend,” he repeats, smiling like a shark. “That’s cute.”

– You blow him a kiss jokingly once and he genuinely stops mid-step.

“You’re dangerous,” he says softly, almost to himself. “But I want it. I want all of it.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

– Caleb does not understand how you do it. You’re out here causing collateral damage with one flirty laugh. One glance. One bat of your lashes. And he’s behind you like:

“Can you not charm the entire civilian population for five minutes?”

– You: “The Skyhaven shuttle pilot gave me a discount! Said I made his day.”

Caleb: already inputting the pilot’s name into a blacklisted personnel database

You: “You okay?”

Caleb: calm, composed “Yeah. Just thinking about airlock safety protocols.”

– You’re always unintentionally inviting chaos. Helping some random guy adjust his tie? Chatting up an ambassador who’s clearly swooning? Caleb is right there.

You: “Oh, I didn’t realize that was flirting…”

Caleb: “Of course you didn’t.”

You: “You sound mad.”

Caleb: “I’m fine. Just making a mental list of every man you’ve ever smiled at.”

– His arms are crossed, jaw tight, eyes tracking your every move like you’re a mission he hasn’t been cleared for yet.

He says nothing, but that death glare he sends across the room?

The man you were talking to suddenly remembers he has a meeting on Mars.

– You: “Caleb, you’re always staring at me.”

Caleb: “You’re always giving me a reason to.”

– He’s terrifying to everyone else, Fleet Colonel, absolute legend. But then you look at him and giggle and he goes completely soft.

You: “You’re blushing!”

Caleb: “I’m not.”

You: “You are!”

Caleb: quietly malfunctioning “…Don’t tease.”

– You’ll loop your arm through his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’ll keep walking like normal, but his ears are red and he’s processing that for the next three hours.

– And when you call him something innocent like “my favorite colonel” with a wink?

He just. Stops.

“You can’t say things like that,” he murmurs.

You: “Why not?”

Caleb: voice low, raw “Because I’ll think you mean it. And then I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

[aevellewritessometimes]

Recently I learned that most foxes mate for life, and this has led me forming an idea for a potential conflict during Vere's route:

Now, obviously, Vere is at least somewhat similar but still very different from actual foxes. For one, he clearly hasn't stuck to one sexual partner for his whole life. But foxes are canines, so it's not like mating for life is entirely about sex for them and there's an emotional aspect as well (I think. Don't look at me, I'm not a fox expert).

Now, back to Vere: the blurb on his flower lore post thing very vaguely implied that he was betrayed by an ex-lover, and when he talks to MC in the Wick during the demo, he comments on how he can tell MC was betrayed and that he could understand them because of it.

(I could just be wrong and/or Vere could've just been lying, but for the sake of this we're just going to ignore both of those factors)

When foxes - particularly the male ones - lose their mate, they usually don't move on from that and instead stay alone for the rest of their life.

So, here's what I'm thinking: because of Vere's hypothetical ex-lover, it's going to be very difficult for him to fall in love with MC. Sure, whether or not MC can trust him is probably going to be a big, defining question/plotline for his route, but I feel like whether or not Vere can trust MC might be a big one as well.

This leads me to have a few ideas for at least three different potential endings on his route:

Neutral Ending: Vere is free and MC is cured, but he doesn't fall in love with them and they just part ways after everything is said and done. You could add extra angst by saying that MC fell in love with Vere, but that isn't necessarily required to happen for this ending.

Bad Ending: MC betrays Vere and now Vere really isn't going to fall in love ever again and instead just goes back to his routine of one-night-stands and (very rare occasions of) FWBs

Bittersweet Ending: Vere is freed, MC is cured, and Vere eventually manages to fall in love with MC and vice-versa. But MC is, as far as we know, mortal. Vere is, as far as we know, immortal. Eventually, MC will die, but Vere will (most likely) live on for a long, long time after. And it's MC's death that actually leads to him never being able to fall in love again. Sure, he might eventually go back to sleeping around. Maybe he'll even end up with a new FWB. Or two, fuck it. But he'll never actually fall in love with someone ever again.

And of course, since I'm suddenly feeling creative when my brain is too tired to notice how many typos I probably have here (and/or if what I'm writing is actually coherent), I also have three "I don't think it'll actually happen but it's fun to think about" ideas:

Ending where Vere figures out a way to turn MC immortal and they live happily ever after forever. Is it a "Serial Killer x Serial Killer" thing? Is it a "Serial Killer Partner x Sunshine Partner Who Makes Dinner For Them After Their Long Day Of Murdering" thing? Is it a "Serial Killer Partner x Exasperated Partner Who Complains About Them Getting Blood On The Carpet" thing? Or maybe being with MC somehow caused Vere to develop a moral code, leading to there being much less murdering going on? Or hell, maybe it's something else entirely. Who knows and who cares, because either way, they're happy!

Even less likely ending where Vere turns mortal. There's an epilogue where you can watch Vere struggle with the fact that he actually has a time limit to do stuff now, but he guesses he can put up with it, as long as MC stays by his side. Not that he says that out loud. Sure, eventually, one of them will die first, but the one to die second might find comfort in the fact that they'll be together again soon enough (depending on how the afterlife works). (also everything from the previous scenario could apply to this one as well)

Reincarnation AU where Vere's hypothetical ex doesn't exist but he's been falling in love with MC in each and every life they live. Actually I have a lot of ideas for this one so let me get back to y'all on this note.

EDIT: here you go

And that's pretty much it. For now. Also, apparently foxes are very loud during sex and they're horniest during the winter months so do what you'd like with that knowledge.

[sofia-d-asb]

Arcadie: Cold Lands - Progress Update - October 2024

I've finally been able to seriously get back into writing last month.

I've just finished editing and coding Cyril's first "romantic" chapter. It was kind of tricky to write, because it had to accomplish several things: reestablish Cyril and MC's relationship, recap a few decisions from Arcadie: Second-Born, and reintroduce Cyril themself (in case the reader/player hasn't read ASB beforehand, or forgotten about it; since Cold Lands won't come out before at least 2025, I can't expect you to remember every single detail of it)

I've had to change plans about how I initially wanted routes to go. I initially envisioned them as being completely separate: you'd select which route you'd want to play right after the prologue (either Cyril, Will or Stan), but that posed a couple of issues, mainly: what if you don't want to play through a romantic route?

So now the story will differ depending on whether you're on a romantic path or not; some events will be exclusive to romance, but I think it will make for a more cohesive whole (can't say much more without delving into spoilers).

Well, that was a wall of text! Here's a sneak peak below the cut to make up for it (RO is male for screenshot's sake, three guesses as to who it is 😉)

[web-novel-polls]

Trans WN Character Tournament

Shi Qingxuan from Heaven Official’s Blessing (TGCF)

Gender Identity: Transfem / MTF, Nonbinary, Genderfluid

Canon Pronouns: She/Her and He/Him

Submission 1: Canonically switches between female and male forms due to personal preference. Also theres alot of gothic doubling on her plotline as well.

Submission 2:

Genderfluid rep

Goes by any pronouns depending on form

Yoo Joonghyuk (The Punisher) from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint (ORV)

Canon Pronouns: he/him

Gender Identity: Transfem / MTF

Submission 1:

1. inexplicably fights with the strictly girl-only sword fighting technique. is the only 'guy' to ever learn it and the only other person who is a discipline is a canon trans girl so

2. has an ability where he can become a woman and when he uses it it's said 'it was still Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before' ??? there's no cis explanation for that. also he's canonically the hottest person in the entire universe as a woman based on MC's attractiveness rating

2.5 described as feeling 'conflicted' over the gender changing thing when thinking back on it. I THINK he's conflicted bc he likeeeeed ittt

3. whole arc is about breaking free from her chains and gaining autonomy over her own life and story despite what other people think she should be (trans narrative)

4. there's a binary in the universe (incarnation/constellation) to which everyone is forced to confirm to, but there's a special category of people who refuse to be a part of this and carve their own path in life (transcenders). guess what Yoo Joonghyuk is.

thats all i remember shjfjsk she's just in general VERY transfem coded story wise

Submission 2: his girlification canonically allows him to access a level of power he can't as a man (this form is called The Punisher). brokers a deal at one point where he must undergo transformation into a girl for a certain amount of time every day for a week. goes out of this way to hide said girlification from the main character (Kim Dokja)

[Anti-Propaganda is NOT allowed. Please be kind and respectful.]

[elrielffs]

Elriels and Gwynriels takes on Az are so different that its laughable.

Elriels actually make me understand azriel more and this is coming from someone who's not in the shipwar.

Yeah, they way they characterize Az is weird and there's like...nothing to actually back it up?? Az is a spy, he's observant, he's 500 years old, he's never been anything but respectful to women...

But they way they tell it, Az is just a broken little baby that can't tell the difference between lust and love and wouldn't be able to tell if his mate is right in front of him and just needs a friendship bracelet and some singing to be right tighty instead of lefty loosey.

Also, as a reader, I do not want to read about Az getting closure with Mor (this has to happen), getting closure with Elain (no matter how insignificant antis want to paint what they have going on, we as readers would need more than "oh it ended in the BC that not everyone knows about or has access to) then move on to Gwyn with 5 interactions that aren't even romantically coded.

This also makes Az comes across as fickle and not knowing what he wants. I don't want to read about an MC that is just wishy washy and easily able to move on from his LI. MCs can have flaws, deep flaws, but not knowing which woman he wants to be with is not one of them.

Also the whole, Az just wants a mate thing. Azriel has never spoken of wanting a mate. Az wants love. That's the envy in his chest. Not for a mate bond but for a loving relationship. Why would he feel envy in his chest for a mate bond when he know that not all mate bonds work out? No, what he envies in that scene is the love that Feysand and even Nessian have between each other. Also, if he just wants a mate...he supposedly pined for Mor for 500 years and she wasn't his mate, and he developed feelings for Elain, a woman his is mated. That does not speak of a male who "just wants a mate".

And antis will say he's only into Elain because he thinks she should be his mate cause of the sister x brother thing...Az was already showing interest in Elain before Nessian got together or even found out they were mates so that's a moot point. The two biggest scenes for them are in ACOWAR--Hybern rescue and Truth Teller, two books before ACOSF.

It's also kind of funny, Azriel questioned the cauldron right? But antis say he's only doing that cause he wants a mate and Elain is just there to fill the role BUT...how does that work? Do they think Azriel is trying to will the mate bond into existence just cause? Even if it was true, how does he think he could make Elain his mate just cause he wanted one? It obviously doesn't work like that. No, he's really questioning the Cauldron because he has reason to because he already has mate instincts (he can smell the Lucien bond, he can't sleep cause of Elain, he can't stay way from her, he went crazy when she was kidnapped...) and that's why he's like, uh...maybe something...you know...wrong? Specially since Elain doesn't want her actual mate?

No, the way they characterize Azriel to make sense for their ship is not only weird---it's wrong.

[gravity-between-us]

Gravity Between Us

Chapter 19: Controlled Burn

Summary: Caleb and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. We were once childhood friends, our bond as natural as the stars in the sky. But now, everything has changed. What used to feel like a safe, familiar orbit between us now pulses with unspoken desire.

Our friendship is no longer enough to keep the tension at bay, and the distance between us feels unbearable. Secrets, lies, and unhealed wounds stand in our way. I don’t know if we can survive this new gravity pulling us together... but I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to try.

Pairing: Female! MC [Named] x Caleb

Spoilers: Spoilers for Caleb's Myth's, as well as memories. Read at your own risk for these. Lore spoilers.

WARNINGS:

Unlikely to be completely canon. The other love interests will not be likely to appear in this fic.

MC is named. MC is socially awkward. MC can be depressed at times.

Very? Slow Burn.

Very explicit smut (Chapter 12 onward): PiV/oral (male and female receiving)/anal sex. Fingering. First time. Pet names (angel, babe, baby, pip-squeak). Kinks: Praise, breeding, creampie, light dom/sub. Rough. Some consensual degradation talk (MC is into it). Probably many, many more that I am forgetting to name. If you see one that should be listed that isn't, feel free to let me know. (MC is a repressed deviant, and so is Caleb.)

Awkward blend of darker moments, angst, fluff, and humour.

Drinking. Questionable life decisions. MC spirals.

Protective Caleb. Both MC and Caleb are a little obsessive and overly protective of each other, which could be considered an unhealthy relationship.

We will revisit memory scenes, but they will be different from the memories in-game.

As proofread as I can get it, but not beta read, so probably some mistakes.

Limited plot - most focus is just on their relationship and interactions.

More warnings could be applied, but as a general rule of thumb, please read at your own risk and do not continue if you find the content triggering.

I hate the Vega District. The whole place sweats desperation and bad decisions. Every alleyway is greased with ambition—money, status, flesh—take your pick. 

I’ve been embedded for six days now. Six days of smiling through gritted teeth and pretending to be fascinated by smuggling routes, mercenary war stories, and black-market bid wars narrated by men with too many rings and not enough brain cells. The whole scene is a parade of swaggering opportunists and discount aristocrats who treat broken moral compasses like the season’s must-have accessory.

Tonight’s the payoff. The auction. It’s invitation-only, and getting my name on the list was like crawling naked through barbed wire. 

Caleb’s been silent except for the daily check-ins. Coded. Concise. Emotionless. Each message a tidy little package of just-enough-to-keep-me-alive, signed with the emotional warmth of a Fleet-issued wrench. 

No “how are you holding up,” no “don’t get yourself killed,” not even a half-hearted innuendo to spice things up.

I miss his voice in my ear. The way his sarcasm always curls at the edges when it’s just for me, like it can’t quite keep pretending not to care. The subtle pause before he says my name, like he’s tasting it.

Instead, I get:

//Status?

//Secure.

//Proceed.

It’s the sexy stuff of romance novels.

My hair’s pinned up, my face flawless, and my weapon is discreetly holstered at my hip beneath the long coat I’ve slung fashionably over one shoulder. Everyone at this place is armed, anyway. It’s just good manners.

The auction is held in a converted skyport lounge. I clock every face when I walk in. Three of them I recognize. Five more are probably dangerous. One looks like they might cry if you raise your voice.

The auction hasn’t started yet, so everyone’s circling like predators eyeing other predators, pretending they’re all here to sip expensive liquor and not buy death off the black market.

“Darlin’,” drawls a familiar voice.

Neris. One of the few I’ve tolerated long enough to count as a “friendly.” She’s sharp in a venomous way with high cheekbones, low morals, and an accent that makes people underestimate her until they’ve already signed over their life expectancy.

“Looking lovely as ever,” she lilts, plucking a strawberry off someone’s unattended glass like she owns it. “Still running with that trade syndicate out of Ceris? What was it—Rift Shroud?”

“Rift Veil,” I correct smoothly. “Someone has to keep their procurement officer from sleeping with every client.”

She laughs, tossing the strawberry into her mouth. “Oh, that’s you, is it? How noble.”

“I’m a martyr,” I deadpan. “Real halo-wearing type.”

Neris smirks and drifts away with a wink tossed like a coin I’m meant to catch. She’s already bored, already hunting the next person worth orbiting. I watch her disappear into the haze of laughter and low lighting.

That’s how it works here. In this crowd, friendship is a currency with a brutal exchange rate—tender only so long as you’re useful, shiny, in play. Affection runs shallow, tethered to profit margins and power plays. You slip, you stall, you start costing more than you’re worth, and they vanish. 

Ghosts in glitter.

I move on. Shake hands with a weapons broker who smells like melted plastic and smiles like he’s thinking about cutting me open for spare parts. 

Next is a woman named Kiva, who once tried to sell me an EMP device disguised as a hair clip. She eyes me warily now, clearly still nursing a bruised ego from the time I reverse-hacked her comms and played embarrassing voice memos over the bar’s speakers.

“Kiva,” I greet, sugar-laced venom curling on my tongue, “still managing to weaponize incompetence?”

She scowls. “Still alive somehow. Shame, really.”

“Don’t worry. Life’s short. Yours especially,” I murmur like I’m already imagining the obituary.

She barks a laugh and taps her glass to mine in grudging respect before slipping away. I’ve burned through my last drop of charm, and I can feel it—my smile’s too tight, my temples throb, and my internal monologue is starting to sound like a pissed-off stand-up routine no one asked for.

Every conversation now feels like a hostage negotiation with my facial muscles. My eyebrows have been stuck in a position of feigned interest for so long they’ve started twitching in Morse code for send help.

At this point, even my blinking feels passive-aggressive.

My social battery isn’t just dead—it’s been buried in a shallow grave behind a dumpster in the rain, and someone’s kicking the tombstone for fun. I want to go home. I want to not talk. I want to lie facedown in a soundproof room where the only conversation is between me and a very large blanket.

But no. I’m still here. Still smiling. Still mingling like some broken hologram of a human being. And the worst part? The more short I get, the more this crowd seems to respect me. Like politeness is weakness and mild verbal abuse is a love language. 

Fantastic.

I’m living proof that you can run on spite alone if the ambient levels of bullshit are high enough.

The next person I meet is a wall of a man with arms like industrial piping and no discernible neck. He watches me like I might bite, which, honestly, is fair.

“You’ve got blood on your cuff,” I point out dryly.

He lifts his wrist, examines the stain, and shrugs. “Not mine.”

“Charming.”

He doesn’t laugh, but he doesn’t punch me either, which in this crowd is practically a standing ovation. He grunts something about needing another drink and stalks off.

Two down, a hundred to go. I angle my body toward the back corner where the shadows are deeper and fewer people will try to flirt or stab me, though in this district, those are usually the same thing.

The auction chamber is tucked behind a sliding panel that hisses open. Everything about the room feels curated—low lighting, no windows, and chairs arranged in concentric arcs around a central platform. It’s dim enough that no one’s face is fully visible unless they want it to be.

I step in with the crowd, my shoulders set, my pulse steady. A server sweeps by with another tray of drinks, but I ignore it. I slide into an empty seat near the middle of the back row, keeping the exit in my periphery.

The host strides onto the platform as soft music fades into silence. A spotlight catches centre stage, casting everything else in rich, moody shadow. 

The first item is a bladed gauntlet rumoured to be keyed to DNA. It’s presented like a piece of art, hovering in a containment field, slowly rotating. Bids come in low at first, then climb. A soft murmur rises and falls as the gauntlet is sold to someone whose seat is entirely shrouded in black.

The next item is a pair of neuro-linked taser darts shaped like antique fountain pens. Someone near the front chuckles like it’s the cleverest thing they’ve ever seen. 

I pretend to watch, crossing one leg over the other, tilting my head with just enough interest to look like I belong. I’m scanning. Mapping. Noting who whispers to whom. Who drinks. Who doesn’t.

Shadows slip along the edges of the room, barely more than movement at first. One here, then two more there, sticking to the walls like grease. They’re moving with purpose, not interest.

Security? Late arrivals?

I don’t react outwardly. I swirl the dregs of my champagne and lean back as if bored, but my eyes flit, tracking. Counting.

Five. No—six now. That’s not casual. I’m just about to shift my hand toward my thigh holster when the lights dim a fraction more.

The next item glides onto the platform in a reinforced case: sleek, black, and humming with a faint yellow sheen. I don’t need the auctioneer’s theatrics to recognize it.

Fleet tech.

Not just any tech—a prototype antimatter railgun. The kind of weapon so high-yield it makes your average blaster look like a sparkler. The crowd ripples. Whoever’s here for it knows exactly what it is.

I angle slightly in my chair, prepared to send the silent alert through my bracelet, when a prickle starts at the back of my neck. At first, I think it’s a trick of the light, until I see the figure standing far in the back, mostly obscured by shadow. 

Watching me. 

Colonel Heath.

He stands in the shadows like a ghost given shape, and I know my cover’s blown. The lights pulse softly as the auctioneer starts the bidding on the Fleet weapon. 

I meet Heath’s eyes. Hold the stare.

And he smiles, the kind that says checkmate, even if you haven’t realized you’re playing.

I shift my expression into something unimpressed. If he’s going to hunt me, I’m going to make damn sure he knows I’m not prey.

My brain spins like a weaponized wheel, calculating routes and contingencies. Running would get me shot before I hit the first row. Staying means whatever trap Heath’s cooked up will spring shut around my throat.

So I fake a cough. Nothing theatrical—just enough to draw a bit of attention from the nearest usher-bot. It zips over, blinking politely in my direction, projecting a silent menu in the air: Need assistance?

I nod and touch my stomach like I’m nauseated. The bot tilts, scanning, then beams a bright Exit escort authorized into my vision.

Good little machine.

It hovers beside me, projecting a polite glow that draws just enough suspicion to make my exit look legitimate. I rise from my seat, keeping my head low, one hand brushing the edge of my coat where my concealed weapon rests.

The usher-bot glides ahead, parting a curtain that leads to the maintenance corridor. Not an official exit—probably where the auction staff sneak smoke breaks or fix broken bulbs.

As soon as the curtain swings shut behind me, I pivot. Fast. Cut right. I leave the bot floating dumbly and slip into a hallway lined with fuse boxes. The scent of old oil and heated wires clings to the walls. 

I duck behind a broken panel, pull out the jacked comm embedded in my earpiece, and whisper fast.

“Alpha-nine, confirmed. Target present. Hostile identified. Repeat: hostile confirmed. Heath is here. Cover blown. Attempting evac.”

There’s a static pause. Then the faint click of the signal taking hold. I spin on my heel and head toward a side exit. If I make it there, I’m clear. Gone before Heath can blink.

Five more steps. Four.

A ripple in the air behind me.

Cold metal kisses my spine.

“Fancy seeing you here, Hunter Inara,” Colonel Heath purrs behind me, a gloved hand coming to my shoulder. 

The chuckle that follows is wet and gloating, somewhere between a threat and a celebration. I twist, and my elbow catches Heath’s rib with a very satisfying crunch, but the muzzle at my spine doesn’t budge. He grunts, tightening his grip. I try to drop low, break his hold, and make for the corridor again.

A boot slams into my shin, throwing off my balance. I stumble, catch myself on the wall, and his fist drives into my side with a sickening thud. Pain flashes up my ribs.

“You little—” Heath snarls, but doesn’t finish the sentence.

Six more men file in from the shadows. Their weapons aren’t pointed at me. They don’t need to be. They know. I know.

There’s no way out.

“Get everything,” Heath snaps. “You know how the Fleet operates. Bugs in their teeth, cameras in their damn eyelashes. Hairpins too.”

Two of the goons grab my arms, wrenching them behind me. One yanks off my boots. Another starts stripping jewellery—bracelet, ear cuff, ring, even the tiny stud at my collarbone. One of the men digs in, jerking pins from my hair with none of the gentleness the knots require. 

Heath steps in front of me and gives a grin that’s all yellow teeth and warped ego. 

I stiffen. “Touch me and I’ll bite your fingers off.”

Heath chuckles darkly. “Not quite the deterrent you think it is.”

His gloved hands start at my shoulders. He makes a show of it, dragging down my arms, over my sides, lingering longer than necessary at my waist.

“Mm. What do we have here?” Heath croons, fingers brushing the edge of the pistol holstered beneath my hip.

His hand slips under my dress. I go completely still. Fingertips graze my thigh, creeping up—

“You’ll want to be careful,” I threaten, voice cold as ice. “The last guy who put his hand that high lost it to frostbite.”

Heath smirks, and he draws the gun free. His touch lingers just long enough to make his point.

“That mouth of yours,” he murmurs, voice low and sleazy. “Think I might find a better use for it before this is over.”

I flash a slow smile, all teeth and zero warmth. “Oh, by all means. Test the bite radius. Let’s see how many fingers you want to keep.”

He pockets the weapons and steps back, triumphant. “I think we’re going to have such a good time, Hunter.”

When this is over, Heath will wish he’d killed me tonight.

The car is one of those high-end, armoured transports with black leather seats, ambient lighting, and reinforced glass that probably laughs in the face of rocket launchers.

I’m shoved in first. My shoulder hits the leather seat with a graceless thud, and I barely have time to roll my eyes before the guards pile in. Two flank me like I’m about to sprout wings and make a break for it. Another sits opposite, legs spread in the universal language of “I eat protein powder with a spoon.”

Then Heath slides in last, grunting like the effort of sitting down is beneath him. He stretches out beside me like this is the start of a romantic getaway and not—oh, I don’t know—a felony.

I resist the urge to lean away. Mostly because I already did and there’s nowhere else to go. I glance at his hand resting too close to my thigh and mentally compose a postcard to Caleb:

Wish you were here. To cave this man’s skull in with your elbow. Love, your perpetually kidnapped girlfriend.

He grins like I’m a particularly good cut of meat. “Comfy?”

“Oh, thrilled,” I deadpan. “Five stars. Would absolutely recommend the kidnapping experience to friends and family.”

My heart’s doing this annoying staccato in my chest, fast and off-beat. I don’t look shaken, but internally I’m filing through every contingency plan I have left.

My comms are gone. Weapons? Gone. Boots? Gone. One of the guards took my hairpin and looked smug about it, which still offends me more than anything.

“You know,” he drawls, voice syrupy and smug, “I’ve always wondered what made you so special.”

Here we go.

I fold my hands neatly in my lap to stop myself from strangling anyone. “Maybe I’m just fun at parties.”

Heath chuckles, and it’s a sound that makes my teeth itch. “Oh, I doubt that. You strike me as the kind of girl who hides in the kitchen with the dog.”

I do, and I prefer it, actually.

The car slows. Stops. Doors open. Gravel crunches. One of my captors puts a blindfold on me. They tie it too tight, like they think I might try to shake it loose by rubbing against a passing wall.

“Out,” one of the guards grunts, yanking the door open.

A hand clamps around my arm and pulls me to my feet. We walk for a while. I count my steps. Note the shifts in sound. Gravel to metal grates to concrete. There’s a mechanical clunk—a gate or loading dock, maybe. It smells like oil and rust. Somewhere industrial.

Heath finally breaks the silence, his voice viscid with the satisfaction of someone who thinks they’ve found the perfect knife to twist. “Do you ever wonder what happened to your precious Caleb’s arm?”

The words hang there, casual as spilled gasoline waiting for the spark. I don’t flinch. Don’t tilt my head. Don’t even breathe differently.

My pulse slams upward, a hot, electric surge that tears through my chest like I’ve been defibrillated by sheer implication. For a second, I swear I can hear my heartbeat—thudding against the blindfold, against my ribs, against every composed inch of me that’s trying to keep still while my brain is suddenly tap-dancing through a hundred scenarios.

If he knows about that, then he knows more. About the wreckage, the rescue, the weeks Caleb won’t talk about—the way he goes quiet when his fingers twitch like ghosts of a hand he doesn’t have anymore.

The blindfold feels like it’s soaked in heat now, clinging to my skin like it wants to smother the truth before it lands. I focus on keeping my face a perfect, sculpted mask, while internally I am grabbing the steering wheel of a runaway mental hovercar and trying not to swerve off a cliff.

Heath hums, amused at his own question. “Fleet official story was warzone debris. Classic. Clean. No one asks too many questions when they hear ‘shrapnel.’”

“You should thank them,” Heath drawls, like we’re just two old friends on a pleasant stroll and not—say—kidnapper and hostage. “Without EVER’s little intervention, your dear Caleb would be six feet under.”

I let out a bored scoff, flipping my tone into dismissive condescension. “Are you playing tour guide and conspiracy theorist?”

He slows his pace, posture shifting like he’s trying to play the role of the wise villain in Act Three. “I used to think you were just tagging along behind Caleb. Classic orphan complex. Latch onto the first pretty face that doesn’t treat you like a statistic.”

“Touching,” I deadpan. “I’ll be sure to sob into my trauma journal later.”

“But now…” he muses, ignoring me like I’m decorative, “now I think maybe you’re not just blindly loyal. Maybe you know what he’s done. Maybe you’re exactly his kind of monster.”

I tilt my head, just enough to feign mild interest. “Wow. You should’ve led with that. I love it when men project.”

He chuckles again, smugger than before. “You know about the Toring chips, don’t you?”

The words land like a scalpel. Clean. Sharp. Precise.

Toring chips.

My brain goes surgical—filing, sorting, connecting. Everyone in the Fleet knows the name. No one talks about what they do. 

Heath keeps walking. “Nasty little things. Elegant, though. Clean. Controlled. They turn people into exactly what you want them to be.”

My skin goes tight. That’s all he says. No details. No mechanics. Just a statement that feels like a dagger being slowly twisted beneath my ribs.

“And Caleb?” There’s a short pause, but I can still hear his labouring breathing. “Well. Let’s just say there’s a reason he’s the Fleet’s golden boy.”

I hum noncommittally, forcing my face into something bored and disdainful. “That was quite the dramatic pause. Did you rehearse this in a mirror first?”

Inside, I’m ice.

The next sound I hear is the groaning metal of a heavy door sliding open. A cooler room. The scent of sterilized equipment and humming machinery. The blindfold comes off.

I blink against the sudden dim light.

Concrete walls. Strip lights. Steel chairs bolted to the floor. Cameras in the corners. A table with restraints, and Heath, smiling. 

“Home sweet home,” he purrs.

Chapter Masterlist

A03 - Note: Not all chapters are available there yet because I haven't had the time to copy them all over.

[debtofdeception-if]

First off, you have no idea how much I wish I could go into your brain and just dig out this whole story fully coded. I'm so excited about it!

So just to be sure I've been following correctly, I can have my MC be gay but be in denial about it during high school and date and accidentally get female A pregnant and then later meet male V and realize he was in denial? How smug would V be about that... I hope I'm not mixing up things I've read other places about different stories here.

Also, thanks for reblogging Paved in Ashes! I wouldn't have normally read a story about skateboarding but I decided to give it a try since you were recommending it and now I have another story to be excited about!

Thank you. I'm excited too!

Also, you are correct. V is going to be very smug about this. They'll pretty much use it to grind A’s self worth to dust 😂. Almost makes me feel bad.

And yes! I love @pavedinashes-if. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Sai is awesome.

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

If you're a Hannibal fan for the love of fish do not read 'Bloom' by Delilah S. Dawson with the expectation that you'll get sapphic Hannigram. (The quotes on the inside compared it to Hannibal and the author said it was directly inspired by it.)

*spoilers, tw domestic abuse*

It's the kind of abusive relationship I would expect in a toxic straight male serial killer X sweet autistic coded female abuse survivor pairing. The MC has zero darkness, they are an ideal victim with eyes shut almost the whole time. So if you've dealt with domestic abuse, or even familial abuse, it's going to be a much harsher thing to engage with than Hannibal. A lot of coercive control.

The romance seems one-sided and like an excuse to gain control over the victim. There is none of the mutual darkness, psychological equality, respect, connection or understanding of Hannigram so I would under no circumstances rec this as in the same vein.

There's also some really disturbing bait-and-switch body-positivity that feels horrifically dehumanising towards women in a way that Hannibal isn't.

[brightest-stars-if]

may i humbly request a male name that gets a ton of specialized content too?? it does not have to be ANOTHER whole plot for you to code, of course ((not unless you really wanted to do that. feels rude to ask however, and like a lot of work, so i am not asking for that)); like, is there a male form of "Elysia" that could work? Elysian, Elysiam, idk??

Hm, I’ll consider it.

One of the big things about Elysia and Isolde is how they were treated as women in Tarasi society, and that played a role in why they ultimately fell apart. The parallels just wouldn’t be the same with a m!MC.

BUT I think that there are other aspects of their relationship that could still translate over and be interesting to explore. And I do want to offer specialized content to as many people as possible.

TL;DR: I’ll think on it. I’m tentatively leaning toward yes, I’ll create a male version of the name Elysia atm.

[yuexuan]

[Review]三嫁咸鱼Thrice married to a salted fish

Title: 三嫁咸鱼 Thrice married to a salted fish

Author: 比卡比

Length: 119 chapters + 28 extras

Tag: Historical, politics, arranged marriage, palace drama, transmigration

Summary (taken from NU):

At eighteen years old, Lin Qingyu was married as part of a Chong Xi into the Nan’an Hou Mansion, becoming the ill Lu Wancheng’s male wife.

On the eve of their wedding, Young Master Hou lay lazily on the bed and said, “Beauty, to be honest, I really don’t want to engage in domestic struggles. I just want to drift along, eat and wait to die. I want to be a Salted Fish.”

A year later, Young Master Hou became gravely ill. He took Lin Qingyu’s hand and sighed, “Wife, I’m going to die, but I think I can continue to transmigrate. In order for you to properly recognize me in the future, let us set a secret code.”

After the death of Young Master Hou, Lin Qingyu was prepared to stay a widow all his life. Lin Qingyu would rather die than remarry.

Unexpectedly, after only 1/2 a year, …xoxo… actually came to propose marriage & said “If odd, change; if even, remain the same?” LQ: “…I will marry you.”

After two years …

Lin Qingyu knew that although his husband was a bag of lazybones, no one was his equal.

Novel | Novel[translated] | Audio drama

Comments **contain spoiler**

Lin Qingyu aspired to be a doctor, but was forced into an arranged marriage with a sickly young master under the Imperial Decree. However, their marriage was short-lived. After the young master died, he married a General, who seemed suspiciously familiar. The marriage didn’t last long either as the General died in war. Finally, he married the young Emperor who was said to have lost his soul since young. As it turns out, all these people shared the same soul of Jiang Xing, who had transmigrated into the novel’s various characters. 

This is such a refreshing take on the whole transmigration trope. Usually the MC (i.e., generally the shou) is the transmigrator, but now we have the ML (i.e., the gong) being the one transmigrating. Not only that, Jiang Xing transmigrated between several characters in the same universe, which is uncommon in transmigration novels. Together with Lin Qingyu, the main couple had to carefully orchestrate their re-marriages, given that it was frowned upon for a ‘widow’ to marry another man so soon after their husband’s death. I love the sprinkle of angst in between each death and the hurdles that Jiang Xing has to overcome to win back his ‘wife’ while acting out the roles of different characters (despite being a lazy ‘salted fish’). 

Another thing I find refreshing is the morally grey characterization of the main couple. Lin Qingyu is known for his ruthlessness in taking revenge on people who have wronged him - even those who looked at him slightly perversely. Jiang Xing is absolutely in love with this side of Lin Qingyu and encourages the other in doing all sorts of bad things. I find myself enjoying the lengths that the both of them would go to to dispose of antagonists who challenge their relationship. That being said, I find that the other characters tend to be a bit bland in terms of their personalities, as they are mainly used as chess pieces in the main couple’s schemes. 

Plot-wise there are a bit of twists and turns, which is expected of an Imperial drama-based novel. I respect how authors writing this genre can work with so many subplots and eventually tie the characters together. 

Now while I mention that this is a transmigration novel, I would say that the transmigration aspect is rather sidelined by all the politics. In fact, Lin Qingyu seems to readily accept that he is simply a side character in a novel and that his original plot involves him dying in the palace. So I would suggest mainly reading this for the politics and drama, rather than focusing on the mechanics of the transmigration.

[shootingshinestar]

ATEEZ AS FRUITS THREAD ⤵️

I had trouble thinking what fruits they would be cuz they are the whole fruit basket

•

•

Hongjoong as cherry 🍒

Cherry can be sweet or sour. However, that doesn't stop it from being on top. I imagine cherries with being on top of ice cream like a banana split. He is always on top of work and performing! He is their captain leading his crew! Cherry is the center piece of desserts and used as the final touch. Just like those cherries, hongjoong brings ateez together as their center~

Seonghwa as strawberry 🍓

Literally strawberry is part of the shine star core. Talk to any hwa stan and they will have something with strawberry on it. Strawberry and croquette is just part of shinestar life atp 💀

Yunho as pear 🍐

Honestly, I had trouble with what yunho would be as a fruit, and then I chose pear! I read that pear is associated with good and healthy relationships! I think his friendship with mingi shows that. He is the ateez member who always does the tiktok challenges with other idols lol he has a friendly demeanor and good aura to be around (I think it's funny that yunho is always the Mc for shows like his vibes are just prefect for showcasing awards and acting)

Yeosang as grape 🍇

Grape are often in portraits of luxurious and rich. Yeosang has a very elegant and royal visual so I thought grapes fit him so well! Grapes come as a bunch, which fits yeo well as everyone in ateez is always after him hehet

San as orange 🍊

Ever since I saw him dressed as an orange farmer for thier fan meet, I associated with him with oranges. Orange can be simple like his fashion taste but it can versatile like him doing all sorts of things like going to fashion shows to picking garlic.

Mingi as watermelon 🍉

The hard shell of the watermelon can be compared to his cold and judgy approach however in the inside, he is a big softie and cutie ^^ (I'm gonna bring it up now, but mingi is not a frat boy 😭 I've seen those videos of which male idols would join a frat and it includes mingi and san??? Like bro stays in the room all day and watches anime lmao he only hangs out with yuyu)

Wooyoung as peach 🍑

Bro is so babygurl coded like ??? Anyways, Peaches are often associated with sweet and cute aesthetic = babygirl woo. Also bro had shake that during crazy form. Iconic fr ✨️ Bro is grabbing everyone peach too lmao.

Jongho as apple 🍎

Apple is literally part of his brand lol apple are so strong that it cause head injury which is funny considering jongho can possibly do the same thing to you haha. He is one of the strongest members in the group! I mean he is known for breaking fruits like apple with his bare heads like? Pretty iconic fr

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

i think that one transmasc anon means being nonbinary but also male/more masc aligning. transmasc ≠ identifying with being a man fully. like i'm personally nb, but it's a pretty broad term that can encompass a lot of labels that aren't just male/female so i'm also transmasc, and it can equate into being comfortable in the gay men community (just like nb lesbians)

BUT gender is a spectrum and not the same for everyone so that's just my two cents! this isn't me trying to persuade you to change teddie's romance btw, i'm playing a man mc anyway lol

That makes sense! You articulate this better than the vague understanding that was in my head.

Unfortunately it comes back to one of those darn things where I'm limited by having to put this stuff into code, both for players to be able to pick, and then for characters later to act appropriately, and I just can't cover the whole spectrum.

[burning-academia-if]

Hi! I just finished playing the update, and I loved it!

I had my highly coveted Lars content, and I couldn't be happier about it. I just ADORE the interactions with him! And I must admit I laughed out loud about the interaction during lunch, where he took some food from MC's plate, and the MC could do the same. It's funny how I didn't even interpret it as annoying him, but just as some sort of... well, exchange. Somehoe, that scene was surprisingly cute to me. And Nevio's reaction was so priceless!

I'm also very intrigued by that customer who left my MC her card at the end of the chapter... so mysterious!

The only character I have a hard time "dealing with" (sort of) is ??? because they make me pretty uneasy because of the whole "stuck in MC's head" thing. At least, I'm glad we can actually have a very reluctant MC who just doesn't want to interact with them!

Now, because I liked Nevio a lot, and because I'm on a Lars romance playthrough, I NEED to ask... Will we get to see Nevio's reaction to when MC and Lars actually enter a relationship? And if we don't or if it isn't too spoilery to share, just WHAT will the reaction (or his thoughts) be? I'm so curious!

That aside, I had... well to be fair a bunch of coding errors. I'll list them all here!

This one isn't an error, but when going with Rhea to the library in chapter 1, would you consider making it so picking the option "You'd be fine. You'd go in" would add to the courage stat? I've noticed it doesn't while the second option does. But that one doesn't fit my MC since it's too hostile.

In chapter 2 when going to the first class and Scout asks "Mind if I sit here?", the answers feel as if she asked if the seat is empty or something rather than what she did ask, which makes it so the answers don't really fit the question.

In the same scene, some stray code: "The haze had rendered your memory of the place almost dreamlike, a moment suspended. It had to have been The $hname."

On the page where we meet Nevio, he calls the MC "infamous" and uses their full name, but on the next page (at least if MC is optimistic about the whole thing), Nevio asks them their name and the game considers he doesn't know it.

If agreeing to lunch when Nevio asks and being honest when Lars asks why (my MC accepted because he thought it would be nice to get some answers), I get a strange error where it seems there is an interaction missing at the start of the page, and a bunch of weird stuff after (and the whole exchange is disjointed):

If refusing to entertain ??? by the end of the chapter, and if they are set to male, I get this: "It would be nice to know why the two of you are connected, and what his deal is with wraiths, and just who he are. But you're not sure if it's worth whatever he want." - both with "who he are" and "whatever he want", the verbs are not properly accorded. Same a few lines lower: "With that, he vanish again"

During the closing scene with Lars and Zoe, I have this: "He hadn't been surprised when they'd refused to take hold of one of the death-touch items. Survival instincts overtook anything else. He'd gone through so many ghosts and wraiths, he no longer felt anything. He knew that wasn't the case for everyone. It was the fear of a new world. It meant he hadn't really had to deal with them. It also showed they had a brain, at least." I believe this is about MC? But not only my MC is male (in regards to the first sentence), but also my MC didn't show reluctance in picking one of the objects - he just did without any fuss (picked the "sure, fine" option during that segment) because he had to. And well, my MC has been very brave overall, so it seems a bit strange in general for Lars to be thinking about his fear and all of that.

Hope that helps!

Fixed all of them!

I'm glad you liked the Lars scene, I really enjoyed the friend/romance options with him lol they were a lot of fun. I also rather like Nevio! I don't think him and Lars are too close for him to comment on it.

And you'll see more of the mysterious customer in chapter 4!

[wolfsetfree-if]

hi there! me again. I was gonna reply but i wrote a lil too much. my baaaad so! i asked both because my MC and I are trans so i wanted to see what all was going on there. For if MC was transitioning before the capture, any surgery changes or big physical changes won't revert during captivity. However, with hormones and hormone blockers being unavailable a lot of smaller physical changes will revert. As an example for TransFems, a tracheal shave won't revert but maybe their features will be rougher than before, and they might be dealing with male-pattern-baldness. This is, of course, assuming MC got help before being captured. If MC didn't, then starting their transition will just be a whole journey after the rescue. Having Bela support the protagonist is a super amazing thing as, in both the 'just starting out' route and the 'already figured things out but got setback' route. Older trans people are just super amazing in general. I also wonder if, with all of the magic in this world, there is some way to make more permanent gender changes which could counteract MC accidentally de-transitioning over the course of their captivity. Because I know that some people might want to be trans but not deal with the angst and such that would come with the accidental detrans route. anywho these are just some lonely transbian's thoughts on this. im just one girl so take what im saying with a grain of salt! also, best of luck with writing and i hope this helps!!

also small followup for clarification. the reason i kept saying "accidental detransition" was because MC didnt want to detransition, not because they detransitioned on accident. i just didnt have a better way of putting it my apologies

Thank you so much for your thoughtful reply! As I said, it's very useful for me to get this kind of feedback <3

I think having MC transition only prior to their capture might be easier coding wise, but at the same time I really don't want to pass on the message that one can transition or discover their identity only as a teen and be done with it. People can transition later in life and it's completely valid.

So I believe I will complicate my life and go with that. MC will have a talk with Bela and see how they can manage it. Both to restart their therapy, look into surgery or whatever necessary.

I was also thinking we could have something more permanent for MC to not experience some things reverting back. For example a permanent implant for hormones or maybe some sort of amulet built by werewolves (they usually contain some magic given by the moon). Werewolves wouldn't ask witches for help because they are quite dangerous and would absolutely love to get their hands on a stray and use them as ingredient for potion making

[couldtransitionsaveher]

ALLEN RIDGELEY from XENOSAGA

JUSTIFICATION:

"OK LISTEN,

First- if you played the game series you probably can Understand this is a transbian egg in love with her boss. But because most people Have Not played xenosaga I can break it down;

So Allen is the longsuffering workwife of the main character and in a impressive feat of gameplay and narrative coding she is in the role usually reserved for the female love interest of a male MC- never in combat except maybe in a cutscene where she does one cool thing and then needs to be rescued. Because the people who wrote the game are Insane at narrative Themes and Symbolism, this is likely purposeful positioning (though likely for narrative twist reasons instead of trans ones- this IS a 00s jrpg). Now Allen is also very unconfident, she doesnt seem to comfortably take up the 'male role' in that she seems clearly unsuited to it in practice but tries really hard at it and keeps bringing it up. This girl would be SO much happier if she realized she wasnt one and that it was ok for her to be one. Leading into that her character arc is about balancing the self-reliant 'man' ideals with the co-dependent submissive following his boss around she is prone to. Conquer toxic masculinity with the power of accepting the 'girly' bits. Like her whole gender. She is so anxious and vaguely pathetic and I feel like she would be so much happier as a girl. Just look at her. Thats a sad lesbian in the tech field. Save her.

She wears fullbody covering clothes and her swimsuit model is one of the old fashioned kind of swimsuits that covers the torso fully. Her dysphoria is so bad. Come on, spare her some E.

It wouldnt stop The Horrors of the plot from happening to her and everyone else, but she sure would be happier." - Anonymous

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