#(with pronouns unchanged of course)

[larrylimericks]

31Oct22

On Grease, Louis’s frequently doted; He once played the lead, it’s well noted. Now Larries are thriving Cos Harry’s hand-jiving — To LOU, hopelessly still devoted.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Timeline isn’t gonna match up or make sense so don’t think about it. This was for an OC I didn't care enough to fully flesh out. Kinda sorta post-canon (all Hashira alive). Little OOC so don't think about that either. Might do a part 2 with background. She/Her pronouns (I'm sorry. I'm lazy)

Tomioka Giyuu isn’t what you would call, active. In fact, the thought of him having a life outside the Demon Corps never crossed the Hashira’s minds (mostly because they didn’t think he had one IN the corps either).

—

He was early. Extremely early, actually. Tomioka was not the latest Hashira by any means but, up so early was, off, to say the least. Shinobu noted this when saying her ‘hellos’ to present Hashira. Tomioka, of course, stood off to the side, not making an effort to interact with anyone aside from a simple “Good Morning.” Even for the ever stoic Tomioka this behavior was weird.

“I guess he remembered us after all.” Shinazugawa hissed coming to the group. It was true that the last three meetings Tomioka had missed (granted they’ve all missed meetings due to work but never three in a row) and the thought of Tomioka slacking off and getting off scotch free added on to Shinazugawa’s ever-growing list of reasons to hate Tomioka.

“It must have been a hard mission.” Kanaroji chimed in.

This didn’t sway Shinobu or Shinazugawa. Shinobu knew it couldn’t have been missions for the last three months, Tomioka hadn’t stopped by the Butterfly Mansion once, not even to get ointment for aches and pains. Strong as they are, the Hashira are not invincible. In fact Tomioka hadn’t been badly injured since last spring. Shinobu knew all this. Even outside of missions Tomioka had just been missing overall. It’s like the silence was even quieter without him there. She peered over to Rengoku and Himajima who looked notably tired well- as tired as they possibly could -as they both lightly chatted with amongst themselves. Tomioka would say something back to them and then go back to staring blankly at the porch.

“He’s finally starting to slack off.” Obanai hissed from up high, the group now noticing he’s been here. “I hope he doesn’t think getting here early will absolve him.”

“Obanai you don’t mean Tomioka got here before you?” Shinobu teased

With a fluster shifting of his eyes, Obanai chose to glare at Giyuu rather than return her gaze. “I saw him coming from inside. Maybe Master snapped on him.”

Though they all doubted Master Ubuyashiki would ever raise his voice, the thought did fill Shinazugawa with momentary joy.

With the final Hashira, Muchiro, walking into the garden it was only a matter of time before the Master appeared. With the opening of the door, everyone’s head snapped up and voices hushed. Shinobu snuck a glance at Tomioka who seemed slightly off. He stood a little too straight and struggled to not ball his fist. Obanai’s theory suddenly seemed more plausible.

—

With the meeting concluded you could practically hear the sigh escape Giyuu’s lips as he walked to the porch. He could feel all the eyes on him as he stepped up there only to be stopped by Hinaki.

“I have to ask that you wait here.” She said calmly.

“But me and Hiro-“

“OI! Have some respect Tomioka!” Shinazugawa yelled. He approached the porch. “Who do you think you are to go around ordering people?!”

He caught Giyuu’s glare from on high. His unchanging eyes shifting back to Hinaki only angered Shinagawa more. “He’s looking down on me,” Shinazugawa thought this an act of war.

Glaring back at him, he said “It’s one thing for you to skip meetings but to disrespect the Master’s family.”

“I’m not disrespecting her, I had a question.” Giyuu replied plainly. He was feeling slightly annoyed and very fearful now. This was not how today was supposed to go. He turned back to Hinaki, “Please, we must be on our way-“

“You bastard.” Shinazugawa was already reaching to pull Giyuu off the porch (not wanting to beat him on the porch, that would be disrespectful). Giyuu was ready to draw his sword when the sound of footsteps alerted them all. Out from the door burst Kiriya and another small child. They maneuvered around Giyuu and Hanaki before Kiriya had tripped taking the small boy with him. Before they could launch themselves off the porch Giyuu caught one under each arm and held onto Hinaki’s collar to keep her from falling over.

He set the children down gently, “Forgive me please, Ubuyashiki-san.”

“No, thank you Tomioka-San.” Hinaki replied, graceful as ever. Lady Ubuyashiki was quick behind them to collect her son. Giyuu apologized once again.

“Hiroshi,” Giyuu turned back to the small boy. He stood slightly behind Kiriya with his head low in shame. Giyuu knelt down, “You should apologize to Lady Ubuyashiki and Hinaki.”

Big blue eyes filled with embarrassment the boy complied. Lady Ubuyashiki smiled kindly, “Please be careful next time you return.”

“He can come back?” Kiriya asked

“As long as Tomioka is okay with it.” She smiled kindly

“Of course.” Giyuu replied as the three kids waved off. “Come on, we’re going home.” The boy followed behind Giyuu quietly. He had a small round face and wild black hair sticking out in all directions. Following along, Hiroshi started to sniffle and finally stopped on the bottom step, tugging on Giyuu’s haori.

“What’s wrong?” Giyuu asked

“I’m sorry Papa.” He cried softly as Giyuu picked him up in his arms trying to soothe the boy.

“It’s okay Hiroshi, I know it was an accident but there’s two of you and only one Hinaki. She could have been hurt. Please be more careful.”

The boy nodded sniffling into his fathers shoulder.

The remaining Hashira stared in astonishment at the action. By the time he got his son to calm down Giyuu had finally noticed that he never left the garden and out the front of the home as intended. Still holding Hiroshi, Giyuu bowed his goodbye and left the garden. Before the rest of Hashira could finish processing what just happened Rengoku and Himajime also left quietly behind him.

—

The next meeting came about a month and a half later. This time Giyuu entered at his normal time with Muichiro coming afterwards. He actively stood apart hoping they all would have forgotten (they didn’t), and suffered silently as the many eyes bore into his head. 

It wasn’t just Giyuu, Shinobu was also shooting her glance to Himejima and Rengoku. Himejima was holding up well (surprisingly) but Rengoku was going to pop. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Tengen spent the last week and a half trying to break whatever secret Tomioka had about the same child out of him. An unstoppable force and an immovable object and all that. 

Giyuu was silently praying for this meeting to end soon and end this mental game all the Hashira were taking part in. He had already prepared an exit tragedy to get out with the least amount of questions. He looked at Rengoku and Himejima. The game plan was set and they just need to be ready to go.

You could feel the tension ease when Master Ubuyashiki called the meeting to a close. They all stood quietly, paitiently waiting for him to go inside before all hell broke loose. And just as the door closed Lady Ubuyashiki called out, “Tomioka-San. A word please.”

Rengoku was screaming on the inside as Giyuu looked over to him briefly. Tengen hardly waited for Giyuu to take a single step, “How come you two got to know but we didn’t?”

“A secret child Tomioka?” Shinobu called out “You must not like us if we didn’t get to know.”

“It’s not that…” Giyuu finally broke his silence. He reached for the door when it suddenly swung open and the little pitter of footsteps was heard. Giyuu jumped back and was quick to catch the small figure barreling towards him, “Hiroshi!? What are you doing here?”

“Mama hurt her feet.” Hiroshi replied like it was obvious. All heads snapped to the door and out stepped a woman on a pink kimono.

“(Y/N)?” He looked surprised.

“Ah, Giyuu!” She peered up walking over to him 

“What happened?” He stepped closer to hold onto her waist.

“Just some sores and aches. Lady Ubuyashiki has been so kind.” She turned to both of them “It’s been in honor in your presence.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lady Tomioka.”

And that’s what broke the string holding all together. The family wordlessly walked off the porch and headed to leave..

Shinobu called out “T-Tomioka?!”

“Yes?” Said (Y/N) and Hiroshi as all three turned to face them.

“Oh! Rengoku-San, Himajime-San! So good to see you both.” (Y/N) smiled

Himejima finally exhaled as both men walked over to greet (Y/N). Both of them gave Giyuu an apologetic look. Hiroshi looked over their shoulders to the remaining Hashira still in a daze. Looking at them side by side there was no denying it. Hiroshi is identical to Giyuu, just smaller and with the cutest round face that Mitsuri just had to gush over.

“You are so cute! Like a mini Tomioka!” She squealed. 

“Your hair looks like mochi!” Hiroshi stayed proudly. “Mama, can we get mochi!” 

(Y/N) smiled, “That sounds like our que. It was an honor to meet you all.”

The family walked out the garden, with Rengoku and Himejima sneaking out with them.

“What the fuck just happened?” Shinazugawa broke the silence.

—

The next meeting was well over two months and the pillars were determined to not let Giyuu go without answers. Especially since he’d recently had to heal up at the Butterfly Mansion while Shinobu was out. Before he could even think of leaving they had him cornered, Obanai watching over Rengoku and Himejima.

“When were you gonna tell us you were married?!” Uzui shouted

“No one asked and I’d rather have a small wedding…” Giyuu answered plainly.

“What about your ring then?”

Giyuu pulled down his collar to show a silver ring on a chain tucked into his undershirt.

“How did you two find out then?” Obanai hissed.

“Tomioka requested I accompany him on a mission so he could be home earlier,” Himejima stated.

“I had an urgent matter with the Master and happened to meet them all as they were leaving.” Rengoku said.

“Wait so Master knows too?” Mitsuri asked

“Yes, they were at the wedding.” Giyuu replied.

“You are unbelievable.” Shinazugawa muttered. “How were you able to get married?”

Giyuu didn’t seem to have an answer. It’s something he thought to himself many times but when (Y/N) smiled at him he always forgot about it. Before he could try to answer, he heard (Y/N) calling out to him. The Hashira were surprised to (Y/N) walk up in a demon slayer uniform and golden checkered haori. She smiled and bowed to the Hashira, “Hello, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No, I'm done here.” Giyuu replied.

“Wait, Tomioka!” Shinobu called as they turned to leave.

“Yes?” They both answered to Shinobu’s annoyance. They did it again.

(Y/N) nudged Giyuu forward as she assumed they meant him. Uzui cut in, “We only wanted to officially meet you, Lady Tomioka.”

“Oh!” (Y/N) smiled “I’m honored to meet you all, I am Tomioka (Y/N), (Y/N) is fine.”

“It's so good to meet you! How long have you and Giyuu been together?” Mitsuri asked, the only genuine person in all this.

“I’ve known him since I joined the Corps, we met while I was on my way to a job, it was in separate areas but we met up on the way back.” (Y/N) answered recalling their younger years.

“We’ve been married for five years.” Giyuu answered. The Hashira took note that their son looked about that age. It took all of Uzui’s strength for him to not comment on it.

“How sweet!” Mitsuri cheered “I had no idea you had such a happy family Tomioka!”

“We try not to talk about it,” (Y/N) smiled. A lot more open than Giyuu but (Y/N) also enjoyed their privacy. “Up until now, only Master Ubuyashiki knew. Hiroshi and Kiriya became good friends.”

The Hashira had a million other questions but they tethered on inappropriate or just plain mean. Out of respect for Lady Tomioka, they held themselves together. The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them. They were happy though. The couple said their goodbyes and turned to leave. The Hashira saw the tension lift off Giyuu’s shoulders as he smiled with his wife.

“Why must we question Tomioka,” Himejima spoke once they left. “Lord Uzui is married with three wives.”

“Yeah but that was before he joined the corps,” Sanemi said “We didn’t know him then, we know Tomioka- barley. He’s a fucking buzzkill and he has a sweet woman that not only married him but slept with him at least once!?”

With those “graceful” last words they parted for the evening.

[transgenderdoctorwhomst]

:3c sends you an ask for a post about 11 and gender

first of all: look at 11 enjoying being in amy's body

the only clothing he changes is putting on a dress shirt and bowtie over top her normal shirt. rest of the outfit is unchanged.

Next: i can't skim over in his regeneration when his first thought was "i'm a girl? no!" and will acknowledge it as another facet of classic moffat sexism and in universe choose to believe the reaction was just from his. whole brain exploding from the regeneration.

otherwise: i think 11 likes to flirt with his gender. presenting as a man is a performance for him. he's amy's Raggedy Man, Madman In A Box. he likes his dress shirts and bowties and tweed. the doctor, in general, will adopt whatever gender you see them as. (for example, 13 adopts being a woman because. her companions told her she's a woman. that's it that's the whole reason she identifies as a woman)

he's a big fan of being flamboyant, she finds being seen as a woman fun and liberating and cool, just doesn't like, get the opportunity to be seen as one that often. in the second panel she's too busy being caught up in the euphoria of being a woman to keep on task.

conclusion: 11's gender (and the doctor's gender in general) is "whatever you think i am at this moment", and 11 really enjoys getting to try on different genders.

(of course the comic i'm referencing is using very cisnormative assumptions of sex = gender, because god forbid we have nice things, though they don't actually change any pronouns. even if the doctor declares she's a woman now.)

[bg-brainrot]

The Smut Peddlers of Sharess' Caress (Astarion x Tav)

In honor of spontaneously deciding to add a part 2 to this silly little fic, posting part 1 on tumblr.

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: The group finds smut about you (Tav) and Astarion. Hijinks ensue.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Humor, lots of innuendos, shadowheart loves smut, karlach doesnt read but will make an exception for this, there is no smut, nothing against smut we love smut in this house

Word count: ~2.5k

Your group is in Wyrm’s Crossing on this bright Baldurian day. You originally were just planning on returning various parts of a certain clown to the circus, but on your way back to the Lower City you get waylaid easily and find yourselves in Sharess' Caress. Everyone is used to your aimless wandering at this point, so Astarion, Karlach, and Shadowheart follow in tow without question.

While you have no strict purpose in visiting, you do want to check-in with Mamzell Amira to make sure that no one has been troubling her since you dealt with her missing girl. The brothel seems unchanged from the last time you visited, and you walk up to its proprietor with a wave.

“Why if it isn’t the hero with a penchant for whips,” she smiles at you warmly. “What can I do for you? Anyone I can get for you, or are you here for the latest erotic verse? I thought you might find it quite… scintillating.”

You shrug off her suggestions, “Nothing in particular, just wanted to make sure no one was bothering you after that assassin.” 

“Oh, we’ve been doing just peachy, thanks to you,” she says. “Though I hear you never took me up on your boon, the Drow twins have been awfully upset about it.”

Chancing a brief glance at Astarion, you find him looking surprisingly unconcerned at the mention of the Drow twins. He had been uncomfortable before, which is all you had needed to hear to put an end to that conversation. “Yes, thank you so much for your generosity, but I haven’t found myself in need of your services,” you reply, remaining light in your tone.

“It certainly seems like it,” she purrs, and you’re not sure what to make of her comment before she continues. “Well, I hate feeling indebted to anyone. What do you say you look through the shelves of our erotic literature and pick some out, free of charge. You may even find some inspiration.” She winks at you conspiratorially, as if Astarion isn’t watching the entire conversation unfold.

Karlach giggles behind you and whispers, ”Oooo, I might actually pick up reading if it’s that inspirational.”

You clear your throat a bit and say, “I’ll take a look. I wouldn’t want to make you indebted to us.” 

Mamzell Amira points you in the direction of the bookshelves, and your group files off toward them. Astarion is giving you a sidelong look as he says, “You know, if you wanted to take her up on the Drow twins, I could be persuaded.”

You scoff. “I don’t want to persuade you to do anything. Besides, what if she’s right? Don’t you want to see what creative ideas these smut peddlers have thought up?”

He seems a bit relieved to hear you say that, but his tone remains offended, “Excuse me, are you critiquing my skills as a lover? From the noises you make, I don’t think you’re allowed to–”

“For the love of the Moonmaiden, Astarion, you know we can hear you?” Shadowheart has already reached the shelves and takes a moment away from perusing to glare at the vampire.

“Of course I know you can hear me,” he says with a smirk. “Just as well as you can hear my dearest—”

“Astarion,” you give him a warning look. “Look through the smut like the rest of us or get out.”

Your love gives you an exaggerated pout before saying, “Fine. I don’t need books to teach me what I know. If you need me, I’ll be getting a drink.” You watch him skulk off, finding his jealousy over the potential skill of fictional lovers quite endearing.

Finally, you turn your attention to the bookshelves Mamzell had indicated. Karlach and Shadowheart are already heavily invested, rifling through stacks of books with ornate fonts and passionate covers.

One book in particular seems to be front and center, perhaps a new title or a bestseller. You pick it up and look down at the cover more closely.

The title reads “Love at First Knife: A Roguish Tale of Blood and Lust” in a flowing script. On the cover you see two individuals, one of whom, a silver-haired man with pointed ears and ruby-red eyes, is holding a knife to the others’ throat. The other figure is gazing lovingly into the firsts’ eyes, their hands grasping at his bare chest.

“Gods below,” you whisper, once you’ve comprehended what’s in your hands. “Shadowheart, Karlach, look what I found.”

Both women walk over to you, peering over each of your shoulders. “What’s that?” Shadowheart asks, not quite registering the vague familiarity of the two figures on the cover.

You point to the silver-haired, pale elf and say, “Does that look like anyone you know?”

“It’s not!” Karlach gasps. “Is that supposed to be… Astarion?”

Based on the crude facsimile of your own face yearning for him and the title, you are fairly certain it is. “And I think that’s supposed to be me,” you point out, dumbfounded at the novel in your hands. “How is this possible?”

“Well, the smut peddlers put out quite a lot of writing, they can write an entire book in a matter of days.” After receiving a questioning look from you, she adds, “From what I hear. I wouldn’t know.” She’s blushing from the tips of her ears down to her neck, and you suspect that you may find a surprise stash of erotic books near her bed at the Elfsong if you look close enough. 

Karlach claps Shadowheart on the shoulder. “Nothing to be ashamed of knowing. Just don’t hold back on me, alright?”

Shadowheart shakes her head lightly, “Regardless, we’ve been in the city for a few weeks and we haven’t exactly been subtle about it. I’m sure you’ve attracted plenty of attention.”

She’s not wrong– your entire group has had some very public confrontations, and several key figures of the city were aware of your presence. Plus there was an entire article in the Baldur's Mouth Gazette about your group’s accomplishments.

“Fair,” you admit. “But how did they know about Astarion?” You touch the cover carefully, as if expecting the book to combust in your hands.

“Well, aside from his loud proclamations of your love,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe it was Mamzell Amira herself, she did mention you’d like the newest erotic verse.”

“Please tell me you’re going to read it,” Karlach says, barely containing her excitement. “If you don’t, I will.”

You tut at her. “If anyone here gets to read about my and Astarion’s passionate love making, it will be me.”

“Oh just you and the hundreds of others who have probably already picked up a copy,” Shadowheart adds, unhelpfully.

Despite that, you don’t feel mortified. Really, you just feel a burning sense of curiosity. You gently thumb the cover, hesitating to turn the page. “What if it’s terrible?”

“It probably will be,” Shadowheart says, matter-of-factly. “That’s not why you read it though.”

You flip to the first page and start skimming. “Sweet hells, his name is Arstaron.”

“That’s amazing,” Karlach’s face bends down to read too. “Did that just say ‘brooding curls’? Do his curls brood?”

Shadowheart is reading along as well, “There’s an entire page dedicated to describing his abs. Are they really this… sculpted?”

You shake your head. “They’re lovely, but I don’t think I could ‘grill a set of gnoll ribs over them’ like it says.”

“Enough descriptors, skip ahead to the good bits,” Karlach prods at your hand, begging you to hurry up.

You skip ahead a few dozen pages and stop when you spot the words ‘passionate thrusts.’ “Here we go…”

The three of you silently read for a moment before Karlach breaks the silence. “Oh my, soldier, how did I never consider how flexible you both are.”

Your face reddens, as you’re suddenly reminded that your friends are now vividly imagining you and Astarion vigorously making love. “Let’s, uh, go back to the descriptor bits.”

A few minutes later, you’re reading down a passage describing his ‘member’ and the laughter that rumbles out of Karlach might bring down the entire brothel. It’s certainly loud enough to bring the attention of the roguish lover being described.

“What do we have here?” Astarion stalks over, clearly sensing that the excited bustle might be worth a laugh. You hunch over the book, protectively. “My dear, are you hiding something from me?”

You quickly pass off the book to Karlach, quickly responding with, “I would never.”

“Love, you know you don’t need to hide anything from me,” he says, smoothly. 

Karlach is quick to follow that with a snort, “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Arstaron says when he takes off his lover’s clothes!”

“Arstaron?” He quirks an eyebrow at you in question and you reluctantly take the book back from Karlach to hand to him.

“Apparently,” you start. “You and I are the subjects of the latest erotic novel, courtesy of Sharess' Caress.”

Looking down at the cover, Astarion seems dumbfounded. “Is that supposed to be… me?”

You nod, reluctantly. You had gotten him a statue and a painting commissioned, but he still hasn’t seen himself often and you wouldn’t consider this the best representation. “They definitely took some, well a lot, of creative liberties.”

He looks down at it more carefully, amusement coloring his face. “I quite like what they did with your face, the longing is lovely.”

“That’s quite enough of that,” you say, reaching for the book. 

Astarion holds it just out of your reach and says, “No, no, we’ve earned a reward for helping the fine proprietor of this establishment. I want this to be my reward.”

“What,” you say, incredulously. “You wouldn’t read it. You said you don’t like smut.”

“I never said that.” He starts flipping through the pages of the book. “I just said I know more than these novels. I still do, mind you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not tempted by the mention of your ‘trembling lips’ as it says.”

“Wait, how many copies are there?” Karlach is back at the shelf. “Let’s read it together!”

You balk at the idea of your lovelife becoming the team’s book club. But you’re very much resigned to the idea that someone in your group is walking out with this book. “No, no, one copy is more than enough. Besides, we don’t want to take advantage of Mamzell’s generosity.”

“I don’t much like to share, love. Best get a few copies,” Astarion says, already adopting his reading stance as he flips back to the first page.

“Ugh, fine. Karlach, you and Shadowheart share one. I’ll share with Astarion.” You put up a finger. “Only on the condition that we tell no one else.”

A small huff leaves Karlach’s mouth. “Really? Really really?” Karlach pleads. “Maybe just one? I know Jaheira would get a kick outta this.”

You respect Jaheira so deeply, the idea of her reading of your wanton pleasures fills you with dread. “Please not Jaheira,” you whisper.

“Be careful, dear,” Astarion mumbles, his nose buried into the book. “You keep whispering her name like that, the next edition will feature a second silver-haired companion with pointy ears.”

His words give you a creeping paranoia and you look around, as if the smut peddlers are watching you at this very moment. “Okay, grab your books, let’s get out of here.”

“So soon?” Karlach says, nabbing a second copy of Love at First Knife before you can change your mind.

“Yes, we’re probably disturbing the clientele,” you say, waving away her disappointment. “Shadowheart?”

You realize that she’s already twenty pages into Love at First Knife and has barely registered your conversation. “Oh, yes? Are we leaving?”

“I work with a group of lecherous fools,” you mutter, grabbing her and Astarion by the sleeves. “Come on.”

You wave to Mamzell Amira on the way out, “Thank you for the books!”

She yells after you, “Be sure to return soon, we’re already hard at work on volume two!”

Shadowheart pauses her reading to perk up. “Oh, we’d best make a trip back then. This is surprisingly well-done.” She mumbles, half-heartedly, “Not that I would know.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Astarion says from your other side. “I quite like the way they describe my artistry. Take a look, dear.”

He shoves the book back into your face for a passage that reads, ‘his motions are as fluid as the waves of a water elemental’ and you swat the book out of the way. “If you start moving like that, I think I’m more likely to scream in horror.”

You walk along in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, as your three companions read. Then you spot Karlach behind you, fanning herself with her copy of the book. She meets your questioning look with a chuckle, “I thought I was already too hot to handle, but I think I’ll need to cool down after reading the climax of that book.”

“How did you already get there?” Shadowheart gasps, looking up.

“I skipped to the good bits!” Karlach replies easily. “And let me tell you, they were good.”

You facepalm momentarily before looking between your fingers at Astarion. He seems remarkably enthralled by the book, and suddenly you’re worried. Oh no, what if I’m a better fictional lover than a real lover. Distantly, you hear Shadowheart and Karlach discussing the novel, but your attention is focused entirely on the man’s eyes, reading back and forth as you walk.

Sensing your gaze, the vampire finally looks up and smiles pleasantly. He closes the book and with his free hand reaches for yours. “My love, please, and I cannot stress this enough, do not take inspiration from this book.”

“What? Why not?” You ask, confused. “Karlach just said it was amazing?”

“Yes, well,” he leans into you. “I think doing somersaults into each other's arms might be more likely to result in a broken rib than pleasurable exploration.”

You give a surprised laugh, leaning back into him, “Are you doubting my expertise as a lover now?”

“Not at all, my dear,” he says, rubbing his thumb along the outside of your hand gently. “You are so very perfect. Which is why I wouldn’t want you to take too much from this poorly written version of you. Reality is far better than fiction in this case.”

Your heart swells at the words, though you can’t help but ask your next question. “So no chance of acrobatics after dark?”

Astarion takes a glance at your companions, and sees they’re still in a heated debate about the novel. With words meant only for you, he whispers into your ear. “Don’t you worry, there are plenty of other ways we can make use of our flexibility.”

With his breath tickling your skin, a few peppered kisses along your neck, and a promise of some time alone together, you make your way back to the Elfsong Tavern with a skip in your step. You wonder if the smut peddlers of Sharess' Caress know how deeply you care for this man, or how little they got right about all of the parts of him that matter.

Part 2 here!

[weevil-wallflower]

Touch

Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: While away on a mission, Cal couldn't help but yearn for your touch.

Warnings/Tags: No warnings, SFW, no use of Y/N, no pronouns used, can be interpreted as gender-neutral, established relationships, during/post-Jedi: Survivor, no spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.

A.N.: My first entry for Cal Kestis Week 2024! It follows the Day 1 prompt 'Touch'. I'm hoping to do one for all seven days but with work and studies, I shall see ;3 Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~600

Separated by the vast expanse of the galaxy, Cal Kestis found himself on a mission in the heart of Coruscant while his thoughts lingered on You, his beloved. Among the hustle-bustle of the city planet, his heart ached for the warmth of your touch.

While the redhead walked through the labyrinth-like streets, his mind constantly drifted to the memories of the tender moments you both had together. He missed the feeling of your hand in his, the soft stroke of your fingers against his cheek—which would be often followed up by your sweet words of admiration for his beard. He longed for your comforting embrace that grounded him in times of uncertainty.

Despite the skepticism of his companions—rebels who accompanied him to the mission, and ones who assumed that thoughts of his beloved would distract him from their mission, Cal discovered that the opposite was true; The memory of your touch only strengthened his motivation and propelling him to succeed in his mission, knowing that with each victory, he got closer to the moment when he could hold You once again.

With each passing moment, Cal’s yearning grew stronger, his desire to hold You in his arms overwhelming. He closed his eyes, willing himself to feel your presence, to imagine the sensation of your touch even from across the galaxy.

In the quiet moments between missions, Cal stole fleeting glances at his holocommunicator, wanting to send You a message but unable to find the time to do so during the stressful missions. The distance between you both often felt overwhelming, but he found comfort in the knowledge that the bond he shared with You transcended physical distance.

During a rare moment of respite, Cal sat alone in the cheap, dingy motel room—his temporary quarters while he stayed in Coruscant. He paid his gloomy environment no mind as his thoughts were occupied with You. With a deep breath, the Jedi activated his holocommunicator, your holographic image appearing before him after a few seconds.

“Cal!” You immediately greeted him with a bright smile. “I wasn’t sure when would be the right time to call you cause I didn’t want to distract you from your mission… So, I’ve been waiting for your call instead…” There was an apologetic look in your eyes. “I’m so happy to hear from you. How are you holding up?”

Hearing your sweet voice provided some relief from his stressful mission, like a soothing melody among the chaos, bringing a sense of peace to his tired soul. “My love…” he began, his voice full of longing. “I miss you. I miss your touch.”

In response, your expression softened and your eyes filled with understanding. “I miss you too, Cal,” You replied, your voice gentle and reassuring. “But remember, no matter where you are, my love for you remains unchanged. We’ll be together again very soon. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms, and I’ll make sure to cook all your favourite meals when you’re back. I know you barely feed yourself while you’re out on missions.”

Cal chuckled softly at your playful jab about his poor eating habits. “You know me too well, my love,” he said fondly. “I’m already counting down the days until I can enjoy your cooking again— among other things, of course.”

As you both spoke through the night, your words provided him with the warmth he desperately needed, soothing his restless heart. And in that moment, despite the distance between them, Cal found solace in the knowledge that the love you both shared was unwavering and your bond unbreakable, even in the absence of physical touch.

[danvolodar]

Pathologic and the Town's Russianness: 3

A close continuation of the previous part, this one will address a much narrower issue: the forms of address used in the Town.

I originally intended to write this up in the previous part, since signs of respect and politeness are closely linked to social class, but that part turned out long as it is. Still, keep that idea in mind when reading further.

If ever you tried to learn Russian, even the most basic parts, you must be aware it has two different pronouns for "you": a polite one (vy) and a familiar one (ty). It is of course not a unique feature for an Indo-European language: it's called "T-V distinction" and it's encountered in many other languages of the same group (and many other languages have their own ways to differentiate pronouns for the same purpose).

Not to send my non-Russian readers to read a whole wikipedia page, the basic idea behind the usage is the following. Vy is used for someone you are expected to respect: those older than you or in higher social position. Ty is used for subordinates, those younger than you, and close family (so it's still the one you'd use when addressing your grandma, for instance, even if she's much older than you - but that bit changed over time).

Closely linked to that is the usage of particular name forms. A Russian name consists of a given name, a patronymic (the given name of the person's father in a special form, normally with an -ovich or -vich suffix attached), and a surname. So the Haruspex' full name would be Artemy Isidorovich Burakh. This system has been in use without much change for centuries - there were calls to change it during the Revolution, but in the end in remained unchanged (in reality - in Disco Elysium, if you remember, the Deserter has a matronymic: Iosef Lilianovich Dros). The polite way to address someone is with their name and patronymic, used for someone you'd use vy with. Using simply the given name is less polite (although it can be used both with ty and vy); and then finally there's the dimunitive name form used for close friends and family (so, the grandma from the example above you'd call "baba Katya", not "Ekaterina Matveevna").

Keeping all that in mind, let us now briefly examine the ways those conventions are used in Pathologic.

And it's going to be real brief because they aren't.

Or rather, the different name forms aren't used in their entirety. Characters remarkably rarely address each other by name, all in all, but when they do, it's either by the given name, or by the nickname. Artemy has to speak with a few figures of authority, such as Big Vlad, Georgiy Kain or Alexander Saburov, and even for the ones he has no reasons to despise (well, Georgiy out of that list, I guess), he never uses a patronymic. Similarly, when talking with close friends (such as Rubin, Lara, Grief, or Dankovsky, depending on your interpretations), not a single time any of them use the dimunitives - even Grief, who otherwise has very casual, ostentatiously casual even, speech patterns.

Dimunitives also aren't used when talking with kids, but that can be explained away by none of them carrying names rather than nicknames. I believe Artemy is only acquainted with two kids with names that have well-known dimunitives in Russian: Capella and Maria Kaina. Needless to say, he uses dimunitives for neither.

T-V distinction, on the other hand, is used in the Russian version, and it carries a bit of meaning then. For instance, Saburov uses vy with Artemy at all times, other than when he thinks him a patricide and orders him jailed (and Artemy returns the favour, using ty when asking if he's delirious making that decision). Similarly, Aglaya and Artemy start out addressing each other with vy, then move to ty without discussing that. Georgiy and Artemy use vy for each other at all times, even if it would be acceptable to address the latter with ty since he's much younger. Artemy uses vy with Big Vlad, and he reciprocates, but adds "my boy" each time so it sounds rather sarcastic, and he switches to ty casually when the situation calls for that - same as Artemy does when accusing the man of treating the Kin like cattle.

Outside of the ruling families, the Haruspex only addresses Block, Lyuricheva and Dankovsky with vy, and he switches to ty half-way with the latter (which can be seen as them becoming friends, at last). It can be seen as a reflection of their social status and class, as discussed in the previous part.

But the funny thing is, almost nothing of that makes it into the English translation. There are two exceptions I know. First, where Big Vlad uses ty to address Artemy in Russian, in English he moves from the patronizing "my boy" to downright insulting "boy". Second, Dankovsky and Burakh discuss changing the pronouns used: the Bachelor says the Haruspex can use ty with him. The translation plays around it: Artemy swears, excuses himself, and Daniil says he has no need to limit himself in his presence.

I think it a very rare case of successfully translating the meaning in what otherwise is a translation that mangles the initial work badly.

So, summing this part up: the game uses none of the different terms of address found in Russian in its dialogs if it's played in English; it only uses one modality of the two commonly used if played in Russian.

[inbarfink]

Okay, so I accidentally thought about Stage Productions of Dr. Horrible Where There’s Not Enough Male Actors So Billy is Played By a Woman too hard again. And the thing is, well,  I say ‘Stage Productions of Dr. Horrible Where There’s Not Enough Male Actors So Billy is Played By a Woman’ and not, like, ‘Female!Billy Productions’ because in all of the ones I’ve seen the script is unchanged and so the character is still textually a man. Super-minor characters like the Mayor and the two Newscasters or even Bad Horse can sometimes get genderswapped, but usually the kind of people dedicated enough to DHSAB to want to create their own recreation of it don’t want to change the script too much. So Billy remains gendered the same way he is in the original.

But also… Dr. Horrible isn’t gendered that much in the text of the script. Like, he gets talked about in third-person way less often than the other two leads (so there’s less places where he would be called he/him/himself), he’s not referred to using gendered terms as often as the two other leads, ‘Billy’ can work as a gender-neutral name and ‘Dr. Horrible’ is 100% gender-neutral. As such, the only textual references to Dr. Horrible being a dude are:

Refers to himself as a guy in ‘My Freeze Ray’: ‘I’m the guy who makes it real/the feelings you don’t dare to feel’

Refers to himself as a man in the title line of ‘A Man’s Gotta Do’

Moist calls him a man in the line ‘look at me, Man, I’m Moist!’

Refers to himself as a guy in ‘Brand New Day’, ‘Go ahead and laugh/Yeah I’m a funny guy!’

The one time Dr. Horrible is called by a third person pronoun is during ‘So They Say’, when Moist notes that ‘he’s still not picking up’

During ‘Everything You Ever’, he sings ‘My victory’s complete/so hail to the king’. Implicitly calling himself a ‘king’.

So, like, what that means is that if a production did just want to genderswap Billy… it’ll be considerably easier than doing it with either of the other two leads. There’s basically just a few lines you have to change and basically nothing else.  

Like, ‘I’m the gal who makes it real’ is really a no-brainer. ‘a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do’ is an Idiom and I could see a woman quoting it without it meaning anything. (And in a pinch you can replace it with the gender-neutral ‘one’s gotta do what one’s gotta do' or maybe 'I've gotta do what I've gotta do').

“He’s still not picking up” often gets cut from stage reworks of ‘So They Say’ anyways or swapped for something like ‘Doc’s still not picking up’ to make it clear who’s Moist talking to without the Magic the Kuleshov Effect Really. The only line that offers any meaningful challenge is in ‘Brand New Day’ and 'Everything You Ever' cause that use of ‘guy’ and 'king' is part of a rhyme, but I still feel like it’s not the toughest one to solve. 

… of course, I keep saying the three main characters because Moist isn’t actually gendered once in the entire script. So basically every time a production gets a girl to play Moist that Moist has a Gender Quantum Position. 

But, with all due respect to Moist and their Quantum Gender, that’s just not a change I find as interesting as the possibility of a Female Billy. Like, hey! We’ve got a second female character who is not primarily defined through her romantic relationships and survives through the end of the narrative and has a kind of a Gross Power you don’t really see for a female super-character, that’s… kinda neat. But I don’t really think there’s anything in here that really shakes the basic thematic undercurrents of the movie the way Female Billy does. Female Billy has a really the highest rate of Implied Changes to the Meaning of the Text Caused by the Change Vs. Actual Changes Required to the Text

Because, okay, look… Would making Dr. Horrible a woman fix every single thematic problem people have with the DHSAB Narrative forever and ever and make it the Politically Perfect-est Musical Ever? Nah. Does it arguably create its own set of problems with the whole Tragic Toxic Lesbian Trope? Yeah… 

But that’s why I’m advocating for it not as some sort of Remake that’s gonna be the New Definitive Version That Fixes Everything, but as a stage production. A new version that exists in the Kaleidoscopic Multiverse of takes that the stage inherently creates. Not Ultimate, not Definitive, not ‘The’ version. Just A Version I think should exist. Because even if it’s not a change that’ll Fix Everything, it’s still gonna change things in a way I, personally, find very Compelling.

And I was thinking, as part of this train of thought, that if I were to do Lesbian Billy, that for Penny’s role, I would try and cast a girl with a very butch and/or nonconformist haircut. Cause, like, at the start, the one line Billy wants to tell Penny is

And that way you can connect it with how nonconformist hairstyles are used as a way to communicate queerness to other queer people with some plausible deniability from Mainstream Society. So it’s not just that it helps explain ‘oh, that’s why Billy even assumes her attraction could be mutual’, wanting to tell Penny that she loves her hair is a whole thing of

Or rather, because it’s Billy, more like

So that’s another layer of Added Thematic Meaning just via casting choices, without changing anything about the exact text of the script!

And, you know, charity, compassion and kindness are not Exclusively Feminine Traits. Penny could be kinda gender-nonconformist while also being innocent and maybe a bit naive. And, y’know, she’s a damsel in distress when compared to the characters who have super-strength and super-science at their disposal.

And then I thought, well, maybe we can also show Penny dressing more feminine during her time dating Captain Hammer, so there’s kind of an unspoken implication to the audience that maybe CH is pressuring her into being more gender-conformiming. Which isn’t just a New Way in Which Captain Hammer is terrible,  it also connects with how he, as a superhero, functions as an upholder of the status que that Billy is trying to upends (and again, it makes ‘love your hair!’ an actually Really Important Line! It’s Billy showing that, even if her attraction right now is kinda shallow. She is appreciating something about Penny that is her choice and CH is probably trying to take away from her.)

And, like, even in readings of the DHSAB narrative that try and make it as critical of Billy as possible, you always kind hit a snug that there is also an unspoken but present assumption, that while Billy does kinda suck, he could’ve been a good romantic partner to Penny if he just Got Over His Shit and is still always better than Captain Hammer despite… not really doing a good job establishing why. 

So this thread does give at least one clear reason for why Captain Hammer is absolutely worse for Penny than Billy is, without necessarily letting Billy off the hook for all the way she does still kinda Suck.

You know, since we’re talking about changing as little of the actual dialogue as possible, the audience might not be able to tell if Penny is an out-and-proud Bi woman and Captain Hammer is pressuring her to be less Obviously Queer or if she still hasn’t fully processed that her affinity towards gender-nonconformity is also somewhat connected to her sexuality and the whole debacle is her shoving herself deeper into the closet… but I think that if the audience notice Penny suddenly changing into girlier clothing after she starts getting close to Captain Hammer that’ll be enough to create a visceral “Oh, this guy is BAD” reaction of sort.

Plus, like, the way the narrative kinda treats Penny slowly sobering up to Captain Hammer’s bullshit and realizing she’s not actually in love with him

is treated as interchangeable with the process of her gradually falling in love with Billy

that would hit as less Weird, at least thematically, if we have that thread of Captain Hammer representing, like, Heteronormativity and the Patriarchy Billy and Penny both being girls....

And that’s when I came to realization

of what I was actually doing.

[pokemonfangame]

Project Untamed

“In ancient times, the Mazah region was divided into two distinct societal groups: the Imata tribe, and the Katalu empire. The Imata were a peaceful people, living off the land and following the Pokémon that shared their desert home. The Katalu ruled over the vast jungles and established a sprawling empire with cities and structures that towered over the land. Each civilization followed the teachings of a separate deity. The Katalu were followers of Hylarmos, the first hunter. The Imata worshipped Maripome, the first hunted. The story goes that when the Mazah region was inhabited by only Pokémon, Hylarmos and Maripome set the ecosystem in balance. Hylarmos as the first predator, and Maripome as the first prey. When humans began to inhabit the land, some favored the ways of the predator: stagnant, unchanging, and always hungry for more. Other humans sought out the life of prey: ever moving, in fear of being caught, looking forward to a better future. After some time, the Katalu began to exhaust their resources. Depleting their jungle home of food, they sought to conquer what little the Imata had. They unleashed Hylarmos using special jewelry to control it. The Pokémon wreaked havoc over the land, laying waste to both the jungle and the desert, consuming everything in its path. In a desperate attempt to save their people, the Imata released their guardian, Maripome. Enticed by this ultimate prize, Hylarmos pursued its ancient rival. The ensuing chase caused more destruction than either civilization anticipated, and they were forced to work together to seal away both Pokémon in a sacred tomb. As the years went, by the remnants of the Katalu and Imata civilizations slowly unified. The land was no longer divided, and it adopted a new name: the Mazah region. While the empire of the Katalu and the tribes of the Imata have faded into history, their mentalities persist in their descendants. Some believe the only way to succeed is to remain hungry and ruthless. Change brings about destruction, and tradition must reign supreme. Others live more progressive lives, seeking to break out of the routines of old and blaze a new trail for the Mazah region.” The contrasting themes of the Mazah region are modernism versus tradition. Professor Ceiba of the region is researching the relationship between Pokémon and the culture of the region. She wants to find out how Pokémon influences the traditions of people. For this reason, she gives the player a starter Pokémon from a set of three that have historically contributed to the culture of the region. She also advises that the player take on the gym challenge to learn more about the culture of each town and learn more about Pokémon.

Features:

Objective (Quest) log

Following Pokémon

Pronoun selection

Normal/Hard Difficulty

New region, new fakemon and regional variants, of course (check them out on the Subjectively YouTube channel)  

[binah-beloved]

True Light

Binah x Reader Lobotomy Corp. Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: Small mentions of blood/injuries and death

~ * ~

Light cannot shine through the dark, for the whims of the City will swallow it whole. Not that Binah particularly cared, of course. The struggles of others had never caught her interest, both before and after being confined to the blackened depths of the world. She took a smug sense of pride in being stagnant, the only unchanging one amongst her coworkers; this wretched facility doing nothing to dampen her cold and sadistic tendencies- small delights was what she called them, watching all the misery with a twisted smirk. Her time was spent as usual- in the company of solitude and black tea, only now it was punctuated by the perpetual mechanical hum of the Extraction Department, and just as before she embraced the days in the suffocating darkness, alone and silent. Yet somehow, a spark manages to worm its way into her ashen world, floating in on the wind and making a new home amongst the monochromatic tones. Each department receives a new batch of employees every few months or so. The Manager calls it “refreshing the roster”- Binah calls it “replacing the corpses”. Rarely does she pay much attention to these rotations, what’s the point? They’re all shrouded in gray, living only to suffer and cry and go mad like the rest, then slowly crumble and fall into the endless well below, an infinite supply of gravestones. So when the next group of agents and clerks arrive, she merely gives them a customary glance of boredom out of the corner of her eye. Something flashes suddenly, brilliantly, and her head snaps back up to catch sight of it, that brightly sparkling thing. But she sees only the uniforms of her employees, all outfitted in simple black fabric as they walk towards the department lobby, chattering nervously at each other. For the first time in a long while, Binah feels vaguely disappointed. She catches glimpses of the shining presence occasionally, always in the peripheral of her vision and always fleeting, never long enough. It’s almost frustrating; infuriating, even- perhaps her long months of isolation have finally driven her mad, it would be a welcome change from the perpetual, apathetic torment. With an exhale and a sip of her tea she answers some employee-or-another’s question, expression as stoic and cold as ever despite the nagging irritation. “You’re a star, Miss Binah!” The Sephirah looks over briefly, and her eyes widen as you practically glow before her. Physically, you’re no different from the other workers- you don’t radiate any light or glimmer with luminescence- and yet you still brighten up any room you enter, somehow. Exuding an air of determination, you’re firmly set in your ways of helping others and working diligently despite the less than ideal circumstances, a smile on your lips and a spring in your step wherever you go. You don’t look like light- you feel like light. And not that cold, heavy stuff generating in the facility- warm, friendly, comforting. It’s no wonder your fellow agents have taken a liking to you, but perhaps the most surprising revelation of all is when you extend this warmth to Binah herself. You’re a star… The words have lingered in her mind ever since. Your superior was rumored to be emotionless, a sadist who only took joy in the suffering of others, so when you can’t help but wonder if something’s wrong when you see her appear in the main rooms of the department more often, silently watching everyone work and always with that calm, neutral expression. In truth, she’s only really watching you, quietly picking up on your habits with a growing sense of intrigue. Interest… Binah hadn’t felt such a thing for so long. It felt… nice. She sees how you treat everybody with that same kindness, offering a shoulder for them to lean against. She sees how you study medical procedures in your spare time, as there is no end to bloodied wounds at Lobotomy Corporation. She sees how you idly tap your pen when you’re thinking, looking up at the ceiling, your brow furrowed in thought.

She sees how you pay respects to every lost agent and clerk, quietly mourning for them as if they were actually worth something. Perhaps, she muses, they are worth something, and she just never saw it. Well- you, at least, are certainly worth something. Slowly, the spark that landed bleeds into the rest of her world, and Binah sees color, gold and silver and crimson red. The sky becomes speckled with a multitude of stars, the darkness of Extraction standing out in splashes of deep hues as the night brightens, just slightly, with a hint of light. Light. Yes, that’s what you are. Light. Her light. One morning, early enough for frost to linger in the air, you find a steaming hot cup on your desk- tea, black, flavored just how you’d like it. A hand, firm yet strangely tentative, settles on your shoulder as you curiously approach, your Sephirah finally responding to your statement from months ago. “If I am a star, then you are a fragile flower, struggling to bloom in the wastes. And yet… I don’t wish to see you wither.”

[jijismochi]

BTS Reaction: Coming Out To You

Pairing: BTS x Male Reader Summary: BTS and M/N are in a relationship. They decide now is the time they want to come out to you. (Reader is gay) Tags: Mild internalized transphobia, changing of pronouns (in some cases & halfway through the reaction), Hoseok's takes place post-intercourse & contains one curse word

RM | Kim Namjoon

Graygender: Outside the gender binary, with a strong natural ambivalence about gender identity or gender expression; a weak sense of gender identity.

Namjoon wasn't particularly nervous

More like he had questions about how exactly you would react

In his logical mind, he knew you wouldn't be upset, so he tried his best not to worry

One day, when you were cuddling on the sofa, he looked at you and smiled

He wanted to get it over with

He couldn't anticipate any reaction other than good or he would lose hope and back out of telling you

"M/N, I'm graygender." he stated

You looked at him in confusion, not knowing what that was

He noticed and started to explain it to you

"It basically means that I have a very weak sense of my own gender. I couldn't tell you if I was a boy or a girl or something in between. Honestly, my gender is little to none. It's- It's like a slightly more gendered form of agender."

You smiled at him and nodded

"Okay. That's fine with me."

He cuddled you tighter before posing his next question

"Do you think you could call me 'they' instead of 'he'? And stop calling me your boyfriend? I don't really like gendered terms."

"Of course, baby. Anything you want."

Namjoon kissed you all over your face, happy they didn't back out of telling you

"I love you so much." they spoke

"I love you too, baby. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me."

"I'd trust you with my life, M/N."

Jin | Kim Seokjin

Genderfluid: A person who does not identify as having a single unchanging gender.

Seokjin had struggled with his identity for a long time

He loved pink, but it was girly, so he couldn't like it anymore

Armys called him 'princess' and the 'mother' of the group, and all he could do was insist he was a boy

He didn't want to face up to the idea he could be anything else

But he was getting older, and he didn't want to live in pain any longer

So he researched meticulously; any gender identity you could name, he had heard about it

Seokjin searched his innermost thoughts and feelings

Tried to read himself like a book

And he finally, finally landed on genderfluid

And then, all he wanted to do was tell the man he loved, but he was scared

So one day, when you were sitting on your living room sofa, he stared down at his hands and fiddled with his fingers

"M/N, I want you to know something."

Your mind searched the worst possibilities; was he cheating on you?

But that was far from the truth

He began to explain everything quietly

"I-I've fought with myself for a long time. I didn't want to admit that I was different. But I can't do it anymore. So, I'm genderfluid. Some days, I feel like a guy, and other days, I feel like a girl. Sometimes I don't really feel like either."

You were okay with it immediately

In your eyes, this could never change the way you felt about him

"I know you're gay, M/N. I would get it if you weren't happy about this. I just don't want to pretend anymore. I don't want to keep telling myself that it's not what I feel, because it is. I feel it all the time."

You took one of his hands in your own, lifting his chin up with the other

You just wanted him to look at you so you could tell him it was okay

That it didn't make you love him any less

He smiled a little, although still nervous

"I think, I want you to call me different pronouns based on how I feel. I don't know how exactly you'd figure it out, but I'm sure we could come up with something. I-Is that okay?"

You reassured him again that everything was alright

You just wanted him to be happy with himself

"What do you feel like right now?" you asked

"I guess neither. So maybe 'they'?"

"Alright. 'They' it is!"

Seokjin was almost overwhelmed with emotion

You, the man they were in love with, accepted them for who they were

They thanked you, and you quickly told them there was nothing to thank you for

You simply loved them for who they were, and that was it

Suga | Min Yoongi

Agender: Not having a gender; a lack of gender.

Yoongi wasn't too worried that you wouldn't accept him

Yet a part of him was still full of anxiety

Coming out to you was nerve-wracking, whether you would accept him or not

But he didn't want to hide himself from you anymore

One Sunday, you were sat at the kitchen table eating lunch

"I need you to know something about me." he spoke

You simply said 'okay' and waited for him to continue

"So, my identity is something that I've always wondered about. When I was younger, in school, I never felt that I fit in with the boys. But I didn't want to be a girl either." he started

"I was confused for a long time, so when I got older, I started looking into it online. I found this word, 'agender', meaning I don't have a gender. It felt like I finally had an identity."

He breathed out before continuing

"I know you started dating me under the impression that I'm a man, and this might change some things. But you're a big part of my life, perhaps even the biggest part, and I would like you to know who I really am."

"In most ways, this doesn't need to change how you refer to me. I'm not uncomfortable with being addressed as 'he'. But when it comes to my actual gender identity, I don't have a gender. I'm just me. So being called your partner, and you not calling me a man: I would like that."

You smiled at him fondly, him smiling back sheepishly

"Yoongi, your gender doesn't make a difference to me. I'm happy you feel comfortable enough to tell me who you are, and I can assure you that I'll only call you the things that you like being called."

"I understand you might've been worried, since I'm gay and all, but when it comes to you, that doesn't matter. I love you for who you are, not because I thought you were a man. Alright?"

"Okay." Yoongi replied

His anxiety subsided immediately and you continued eating lunch, only now you knew who he was

And you loved him for exactly that

J-Hope | Jung Hoseok

Demiboy: Someone who identifies at least partially as a boy or with aspects of masculinity, but whose gender identity is not fully male.

Hoseok decided that the right time to tell you was in bed, just after you'd slept together

Why? Who knows, but this was it

Once he had caught his breath, he turned onto his side to face you

"M/N, I want you to know that... I'm a demiboy. Basically, it means that I'm only partially a man."

"Well you look fully male to me..." you replied, tracing your hand over his stomach, thinking he was talking about his body

He furrowed his brows before realizing what you thought

"No, I don't mean my body. I mean my gender. My identity."

You panicked for a moment, worried you had upset him with what you said

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hobi. I didn't mean-" you started, but he cut you off

"Don't worry, I know you weren't trying to invalidate me. It's not a well-known word, so I understand."

You nodded, still a little concerned

"In terms of my gender identity, it means I don't feel like I'm entirely a man. Part of me is, but there's other parts of me that don't feel so masculine. I don't know what they are, so all I can tell you is that I'm at least partially a man."

"That's where the term 'demiboy' comes in. The other parts of me... they're just ambiguous. I can't tell you what they are, because I don't know."

You gave him a look of understanding and nodded again

Wondering if he had more to say

"I know you're gay. Which means that maybe you won't like the fact that I'm not just a man. But I want you to know."

You waited another moment before replying

"Hobi, first off: this is a really weird time to bring up gender." you chuckled

He laughed back, appreciating your normalcy

"Secondly, there is nothing you could say that would change how I feel about you. Yes, ordinarily, I'm attracted to men. But you know who I'm most attracted to? You. Man, woman, part man and part whatever the fuck else, you are the one I love. I did not fall in love with your gender. I fell in love with you."

Hoseok smiled and leaned over to kiss you

"I love you too, M/N."

Jimin | Park Jimin

Bigender: A person whose gender identity encompasses two genders.

Jimin had a whole lot of fear

He knew you were okay with transgender people, that you would be more than willing to date one and see them as the gender they identify with

But you didn't like girls, and part of him was a girl

He also didn't know if you'd understand the idea that someone could be both man and woman at the same time

So you sat there on your date night, watching the way his eyes looked like he was battling something

"Jiji, is everything okay?"

"No. No, it's not." he replied

You asked what was going on, and he reached for your hands across the table

You were 99% convinced at that point that a breakup was coming

"Jimin, you're scaring me..."

"No, please don't be scared! I just need to tell you something."

"Go on..."

Jimin squeezed your hands gently, kissing each of them once

"Whatever I say to you, promise you won't leave me."

"Jimin-" your eyes widened in fear before you were cut off

"Just promise me."

"I promise."

He sighed and buried his head in your intertwined hands before looking back up at you

He had no reason to be scared, yet he was petrified

"Okay. Okay. I feel like both a man and a woman. I don't know if you've heard of bigender. But that's who I am."

Your expression softened as you looked in his eyes

"Jimin, that's what you're so scared about?" you questioned, a hint of disbelief in your tone

He only nodded his head meekly, trying to hide away from your gaze

"Sweetheart... whether you're a man, a woman, both, or neither is the least of my concerns."

"But you're gay. And I'm a girl too. You don't like girls."

"Not usually, no. But I love you. I love you so much, so you being a girl as well as a guy has no effect on me, Jiji."

"But what if- what if I wanted you to call me a girl too, M/N? What if I wanted you to start using 'she' as well as 'he'?"

"Then I will absolutely do those things. You were my baby boy, and now you can be my baby girl too." you smiled

Jimin smiled back brightly, kissing your hands again

"I love you, M/N." she spoke, "So, so much."

"I love you too, Jiji. Please don't ever be afraid to tell me things."

"I won't anymore. I promise."

V | Kim Taehyung

Non-Binary: Not fully male or female; a gender that falls outside the gender binary.

Taehyung was 100% convinced you were gonna leave him

After all, you fell in love with a man, and he simply wasn't one

When you got home from work one day, you found him sitting on the couch in silence

You walked over and sat next to him

"Are you okay, baby?" you questioned

"N-No... I need to talk to you about something."

"Alright, go ahead, sweetie."

Taehyung immediately burst into tears

You pulled him into your lap and wrapped your arms around him

"Baby boy," you said without thinking, "tell me what's wrong."

Taehyung only cried harder at your words, although he knew it wasn't your fault

"Please don't call me that." he spoke

You furrowed your brows in confusion

Taehyung never seemed to mind that nickname before

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I'm not a boy. 'M not."

"What do you mean, baby? Like, you're transgender? You're a girl?" you questioned

"No, no. 'M not a girl either. 'M just- 'M just a person. I don't wanna be called a boy or a girl. 'M non-binary. I'm so sorry, M/N." he sobbed out

You ran your hands through Taehyung's hair gently

"Sweetheart, there's nothing to be sorry about. You are who you are. I love you no matter what."

"B-But you're gay. You only fell in love with me because you thought I was a man. But 'm not. 'M not a man."

"Taehyung, listen to me very carefully. I may be gay, and I may have started dating you as a man, but nothing could change the way I feel about you. You could be a girl, the literal opposite of the gender I like, and I would still be so in love with you. Gender doesn't matter to me anymore. I just want you."

Taehyung sniffled and looked at you, hoping you were being sincere

"You're not gonna leave me?" he asked

"No, baby, of course not. I would never leave you. I just wanna know how you'd like me to refer to you." you explained

"O-Okay. Um... I don't mind my name, but- but I don't wanna be called a boy or a girl. You can call me your partner if you want. And I don't like being called 'he'. I-I like the sound of 'they'. But y-you don't have to- to do that if you don't want to."

You looked at them with a sad expression

All you wished was that they could see how much you loved them

"Taehyung, my sweet baby, what I want is for you to be happy. If what makes you happy is being my partner, and being referred to as 'they', I don't have any problem with that. I just want to do what makes you comfortable, okay?"

Taehyung leaned further into you, clutching onto you like they were falling

And they were falling; even more in love with you than they thought possible

"I love you so much, M/N. So, so much."

"I love you too. More than anything in the world, Taehyung."

Jung Kook | Jeon Jungkook

Genderqueer: A gender identity that does not correspond to conventional binary gender distinctions.

You and Jungkook were out on a date at a restaurant when he decided it was time to tell you who he was

You sat across from him on a table, waiting for dessert to arrive

"M/N, there's something we need to talk about."

"Is everything okay? What is it?"

He looked down and chuckled nervously

"Okay, here it goes: I've been thinking about my gender for a while. I never really thought that just being a boy fit me. So I started looking into different gender identities online, and experimenting with certain things."

You listened patiently as Jungkook continued, doing your best to take in all the things he was saying

"I felt that the term 'genderqueer' fit who I was the best. It basically means that my gender doesn't really correlate to any traditional binary gender traits. So I'm not really a guy, at least I don't feel all that much like one, nor do I feel too much like a girl. My gender is just... unconventional. I don't think I really fit into one box. And I hope that you'll accept me for who I am."

You stayed quiet for a moment, still processing all the information

Jungkook looked up at you nervously; you looked like you were thinking deeply about it

Eventually, you looked back at him with furrowed brows

"Jungkook, I'm not sure what you expected me to say. I may be gay, but that couldn't matter less to me at this point. I love you for who you are, man or not, and I'm happy to call you whatever you want to be called." you explained

He seemed unsure for a moment, asking if you really meant it

Of course, you did

"So have you thought about what you like being called?"

"Well, I've been experimenting with different things lately; seeing what I like to call myself first. And I think I'm okay with most things. Boyfriend, girlfriend, partner. I like my name as it is. For pronouns, I don't really mind. He, she, they; I like all of them, so you can call me all of them. I guess I don't really have much preference, but I'd like it if you didn't stick to one."

"Of course, baby. I'll use all of them." you agreed

Jungkook smiled up at you, both relieved and excited about your reaction

"You really don't mind?" they asked

"I don't mind at all. If it's who you are, then I want to make you comfortable, Jungkookie. I love you more than anything I've ever seen and anyone I've ever known. All I want is for you to be who you are around me."

She appreciated that more than you could ever know

[autisticempathydaemon]

in a sky full of stars (I think I see you)

Chapter Two: Le Potage

tags: Lasko/OC, nb!empathy daemon OC who uses they/them pronouns, background Freelancer/Gavin, mentions of disordered eating and unhealthy relationship dynamics in later chapters

It’s the classic story of boy meets girl… except “girl” is more of a genderless being of pure empathy magic and “boy” is the sweet air elemental professor who literally doesn’t know they exist.

Also available to read on AO3

<- Previous chapter | Next chapter ->

If asked what eternal life is like, Bee would not know how to answer. How can they when the only company available to them is other d(a)emons, their companions in this long, unchanging existence? Bee has never had to contemplate immortality, the length of it, the monotony of it. So when Lasko Moore enters their life in a flurry of spring breezes and flushed cheeks and delicious delight, Bee is surprised to feel like their life has finally begun.

Days remain always the blissful, benign, boring same. Newly coalesced daemons are still enthusiastic and vibrant; they are excited to learn, and Bee is still excited to take them into Elegy to teach them. The little stars still bounce off everything and everyone, making friends with mortal children as easily as breathing, soothing scraped knees, and consuming candied, childish joy. Despite the long-held title of teacher, they’re really just a glorified babysitter, keeping an eye on human and daemon children alike as they play. Small Pollux and Castor still get to hold hands with their charge, get to talk to her, get to be seen, and hovering, invisible Bee still watches.

The nights are what have really changed, when they get to feel like they no longer just exist but get to live . The little ones rift back to Aria, sated and delighted, and Bee stays in Elegy to get their fill. 

The eccentric daemon has always enjoyed their escapades through the human world. Aria, though gorgeous and comfortable and home, lacks so many things the mortal realm has in abundance. Everywhere Bee turned, there were new smells and sounds and tastes and sights like nothing they’d ever seen before. The first time they saw cotton candy at a fair, a man spinning sugar and light out of thin air without magic, they had been spellbound and have been ever since. Every opportunity they have, they take to explore and discover the newest thing this world has for them to taste, and there is nothing newer or better than the cornucopia feast that is Lasko Moore. 

Bee thought it couldn’t get any sweeter than the night the stray campus cat let the fidgety air elemental pet her. The daemon had needed to use a little push to get the creature to stay still- nothing nefarious, of course, just a little serenity magic they picked up from a colleague, equivalent to a little catnip and sunlight- but the small thing hadn’t even needed it when Lasko finally laid a gentle, tentative hand on its head. Bee couldn’t taste or feel its feline bliss, but they could see the way its body relaxed beneath his petting, could hear the pleased purring from its belly. They could taste the contentment drifting off Lasko like applewood-smoked barbeque: warm, heady, delectable, coiling around their brain until they were boneless and dangling in the air with loopy pleasure. The empathy daemon thought they’ve could never experience anything more wonderful-

-until the next week, a cozy Friday night where Bee sat in on one of Lasko’s classes. They’ve never quite taken to crowds like some of their kind had, finding the sheer variety and inconsistency of emotions overwhelming, but it was worth it to watch the way Lasko dons the title of Professor so wonderfully. His frenetic energy works well in the classroom, his pacing up and down the aisles keeping all eyes on him and letting him stop by each desk to answer questions with a helpful smile. As the last of his students filed out, Lasko slumped in his desk chair with a drained, contented satisfaction that permeated the lecture hall with a rich, luxurious flavor like melted chocolate, and Bee felt they could float through the very ceiling, could buzz right out of their skin, could never find anything better-

-until two weeks later, when Bee finally got to watch a D&D session. There were a lot more numbers and scribbling on sheets and arguing than the daemon had thought there’d be, but Lasko seemed to be having fun, diffusing the whole room with an anticipation as fizzy and sweet as pop rocks. That feeling only builds throughout the night with each roll and spell and saving throw, and Bee is starting to feel buzzed with the most delicious sugar rush when the night reaches its climax. The actual plot eludes them, something about a necromancer king and his legion; all the daemon knows is that the flavor of the room soon takes a sour turn. Lasko’s face is tense and pinched in concentration, a stream of nervous rambling humming under his breath while he fiddles with the die in his hand. When he casts it on the table, eyes closed in anxious suspense, putting the fate of his party in god’s hands, Bee makes the impulsive decision to take it in their own. 

It takes only a magical drop in the ocean to twist the die from one side to another, from the 14 to the 20, but it unlocks an emotional floodgate of exquisite euphoria from Lasko that could have fed all of Aria. If asked later, Bee could not tell anyone what the critical success did in the story or what his character managed to do. All they can clearly recall is the way Lasko threw his hands in the air, tossed his head back, and laughed with a complete, utter delight and abandon that pushed the daemon over the precipice of tipsy into a dizzy drunkenness.

Eventually, Bee comes to terms with the fact that Lasko Moore is full of surprises. As wonderful amazing transcendent as he may feel one day, the air elemental always finds a way to shock them with the depth and complexity of his joy, and they’ve learned to eagerly anticipate the unexpected.

Even now, a normal Tuesday evening like any other, just sitting in his office with his laptop and paperwork, the raven-haired man is simply, divinely, inexplicably happy. Lasko flips his pencil in between his fingers when he’s not filling out forms with peaceful humming and muttering, and Bee loves to perch on the windowsill behind him, basking in both warm sunset light and his sweet contentment.

“I wonder if I should open up the class to more students,” he mumbles, fiddling with his glasses as he speaks. “It’d be more work for me, but there’s room in the classroom and in my schedule. Surely I can handle the extra workload?”

“ Wouldn’t recommend that, sugar,” Bee hums lazily, pushing on the pen with their magic so Lasko doesn’t accidentally fling it across the room. They don’t want him to hear, so he doesn’t, but he shakes his head all the same, wrinkling his nose at the computer screen. 

“No, I shouldn’t overload myself again. The amount of sessions I’m already holding will be a lot given Gavin attending- oh, god-“ Bee chews on the sweet, sour, salted plum flavor of Lasko’s flustered, anxious pleasure- what a combo- and has only a moment to note the familiarity of that name when rift magic ripples through the room. 

“Thinking of lil ol’ me, Professor?” Gavin says in that low, sultry tone he’s perfected before artfully draping himself over a chair. The beams of sunshine illuminate his tawny, golden-brown skin in a way the incubus knows flusters every human who lays eyes on him, so when Lasko sputters and stutters, hands wringing, that’s typical. He’s used to seeing the shy, sweet air elemental fall to pieces, especially when his shirt rides up just so. 

What he’s not used to seeing is onyx and emerald sheep horns and ponytail peeking over the top of Lasko’s chair as a bashful empathy daemon tries and fails to hide from him. 

[ookaookaooka]

I am interested in the dragon genders

sorry for the late reply! i saw this ask and promptly forgot about it until tonight, then spent 2 hours writing up a detailed reply and then tumblr refreshed and deleted it >:( buckle up cause this post is gonna be long

*digs out notes*

okay so. the gist is that dragons have 3 sexes (male, female, and female-appearing male, like the “faeder males” of ruff sandpipers) and 7 genders (drake (male, he/him*), drakka (female,she/her), drak (third, xe/xem), neuter (none of the above, they/them), in-between (more than one of the above at once, unchanging, hie/hier), fluid (more than one of the above, changing periodically, any pronouns), and changed (identified as one and then became another over the course of their life, any pronouns)). this ties directly into their religion, which is all about reverence of the body and its senses; each gender is associated with a different sense, which is associated with a different emotion, action, and body part.

they also differentiate between trans dragons who feel they have always been their chosen gender and trans dragons who feel they were once one gender and then became another (“i was always a drake” vs “i was a drakka growing up and now i’m a drake”). only dragons of the second type can become monks who specialize in that gender’s sense, but dragons of the second type can become monks of either their chosen gender or of the changed gender.

the dragons don’t worship deities; their religion is more about improving yourself so your senses can be in harmony with each other, and by extension, improving your community. each sense has symptoms associated with it that indicate a healthy or unhealthy state, and each sense’s actions “soothes” another sense back into balance when it’s unhealthy, and is in turn soothed by another.

for example: smell (neuter, xe/xem) in its healthy form is expressed as grief, loss, mourning, fever, melancholy, and solitude, and in its unhealthy form as rot, malingering, wallowing, and refusal to move on. the actions associated with smell are mourning, remembrance, caring for the sick, resting, lighting a fire, eating, and providing food. Smell soothes sight (ambition, changed gender, any pronouns) and is soothed by balance (exhilaration, fluid gender, any pronouns). A dragon suffering from unhealthy smell (for example, refusing to leave the nest after the death of a friend five years past) could be cured by making them perform the actions associated with balance—flight, combat, storytelling, swimming, competition.

here’s a handy diagram of all the genders, the senses they’re associated with, and which one soothes which:

that’s the basics! i’ve got a metric ton of other worldbuilding for this story (wanna ask me about their naming system? 👀)

*the dragon language has 5 third person singular pronouns. these are only the closest english approximations.

[nothing-feels-party]

Meet NFR Jack’s true form! Because this blog DOES NOT enter the rift until later for some semi important reasons I thought I’d post some of my designs and explain them. By the way this photo style will be used in varying degrees for all characters for this AU and maybe even in other stuff because I like it. Explanation below cut.

In this AU Jack both is and isn’t really Jack. They are in that they are their worlds equivalent but within the world itself Jack is not a reanimated corpse it is a 4th dimensional entity lacking a lot of memories stuffed into the corpse thinking that he is.

He is actually a type of hostile entity called a Jaclao, a type of entirely abstracted 4th dimensional entity that has the goal of “assimilating abnormalities” which is to say turning entities from lower spacial dimensions into 4th dimensional entities by force, using a type of cell like a virus in their blood. This process is done to “keep balance” for the world, for a religion, or even for the entity being turned is unknown but they do get a high from it and are psychologically designed to want to do it even if they don’t. All that is known is the transformation is not pleasant, it’s excruciatingly painful and mutations can be anything from helpful and unintrusive to being crucified on your own body, they also frequently affect the brain and can destroy it, but this is rare to occur unless the transformation is completed so utterly quickly and completely at once that it replaces at least 40% of the body’s regular cells to affect the brain at all, 60% to annihilate the mind almost entirely, although insanity is common either way as the unchanged minds are rarely equipped to handle perceiving the 4th dimension unless turned very slowly over time.

Jack is not aware of being this until being dragged into the rift and it’s not a pleasant surprise to anyone involved.

Jack goes by any pronouns in this AU and doesn’t have a preference aside from slightly liking masc pronouns more due to being more used to them but liking to hear all of them.

Because I can’t not, for some biological Jaclao facts. No two Jaclao look anything alike, the only constant is the lack of a visible mouth. Jaclao are believed to be sexless though that makes it very unclear where they actually come from. Their blood contains a virus LIKE cell that when put into another body will latch onto unaffected cells and inject them with a random genetic mutation and then immediately die, only 1 in a million of these injections will register to the host as something they should develop and spread to other cells though the affects are devastating. As 4th dimensional beings the forms that are perceivable are likely not what they truly look like simply what is actually perceivable to a 3rd dimensional being.

All 4th dimensional entities and of course this timeline’s Jack, behave as if any world they are in is 4th dimensional causing them to seemingly teleport, change size, clip through solid objects, and interact with things that aren’t there.

[accursedkaleeshi]

Kaleeshi Spiritualism

The Kaleeshi pantheon is called the Hiilsay, which translates literally to “Soul/Value dais”. The Kaleesh often shorten this to just “The Say”. It has 8 main branches of Hiil (values of soul) that encompass all things.

A completely made-up lore dump from Accursed. 2.5k words until I find a better way to present this information. Sorry I made up so many words

Oyar (Wholeness)

        Oyar written in a specific character refers to the wholeness of the Mother & Spirit that, together, represent the All-Mother. Otherwise it is used to refer to spiritual completeness of oneself or community. It is something like enlightenment & it is very difficult to achieve.

Sidiir (Affiliates)

        The Say is split into 2 Sidiir which group affiliated values together. The Sidiir are Vivak & Ythral.

        Vivak is kind of like a light side. The more exciting side that everyone likes. The values in Vivak working together are attributed to life & vigor. War, Fire/Light, & Many: things the Kaleesh are all about. It is crowned by Mother, that gives all things.

        Ythral is kind of like a dark side. Things that are more intangible & complex. Although most Kaleesh know that Ythral is just as important as Vivak, its values have certain connotations. It is crowned by Spirit, which fills all but is often hard to understand. Water/Dark is synonymous with the void. The One is taboo & of course Death is not always pleasant.

Fyar (Balance)

        Fyar is a very specific concept. It refers to the bond between the hiil in opposing sidiir. One thing is dependent on the other in an inescapable bond that wants to be balanced. Light & Dark, The Many & the One. War & Death. Mother & Spirit are different than the rest as they are simultaneously created from & combine to form all things.

Oyama (The All-Mother)

        Also referred to as The Mother, Mother Kalee, or just Kalee herself, she is the center of Kaleeshi spirituality. Oyama is the start & end of all kaleesh & her creatures. The glyph is obviously the glyph for Mother within the Spirit. Oyama is always referred to with female pronouns. She is not usually visually represented but when she is it is as an ancient animal that the kaleesh believe they have descended from.

Masyr (Mother)

        Mother & Spirit are the root of all things. Mother is said to live in the hearts & souls of all kaleesh, since all kaleesh come from a mother. Mother also has domain & overlap with other hiil & lesser values but most notably fertility, green season, & protector of children.

        The glyph for Mother is the symbol for “person” cradled in two strokes, heavy in the center for support. The Hiilsay glyphs have gone largely unchanged since ancient times when kaleesh wrote exclusively with their claws. Temples to Mother are covered in clinging vines or light cloth banners where vines can’t grow. The temples range from enormous ziggurats to simple stelae on the side of paths with messages like “Call your mom :)”. Temple priests, Mother Minders, unlike other disciplines, are traditionally all female. Bonus lore: Taa’yn was a Mother Minder & was considered by the wives to have been blessed for her service.

        Kaleesh seeking consul or comfort from Mother will offer items that represent their own mothers or their motherhood.

Yth (Spirit)

        Yth (pronounced eeTH) is the flow of all energy on Kalee. Yth is just how kaleesh interpret the Force. Possibly the oldest glyph, it is just a scrawled circle as it encompasses everything. Most kaleesh have a healthy respect for the spirit since the only thing generally understood about it is that one’s soul is made of yth.

        Since Mother & Spirit are all things, there is a LOT of room for specialization. There are MANY different kinds of priests & shamans that have a wide range in their understanding & sensitivity of the Yth. There are not usually temples dedicated solely to the concept of Yth as they feel it is implied in any holy space. Temples dedicated to its attributes are often very potent.

        Spiritual kaleesh shed their strong emotions around as they accept becoming one with the All-Mother, on purpose or otherwise. Lingering energy lends to kaleesh continuing to believe their ancestors can still affect them. That & occasionally there are ghosts.

Sol (Light)

        Sol can mean light or fire in both a holy or literal sense. First of the more direct hiil, it covers the goods & the bads of the sun & of fire, Prometheus style. Kaleesh love being warm & goddamn do they love cooking food. Sol covers smaller values like hearth, metalwork, leatherwork & bone work. Sol & Water often have spots in each other’s temples to encourage balance to agriculture.

        Temples to Sol are always lit up & warm. Sol’s glyph is obviously sunrise on the horizon. A central fire pit is a common temple layout but in Sol temples it is a Feature™. Parishioners bring things to burn most often but will also offer flowers & fish that are the colors of the sun & fire. Sol sects range from journeying kaleesh bringing light to dark places with their ritual torches up to uh purification through fire inquisition type fuckers.

Der (Dark)

        Der refers to darkness, absence of light, & unknowable depths of dark water. Shadow is not something most kaleesh revere & they tend to be wary of the unknown dark. Hunters & trackers will invoke stealth & shade for successful stalking. Hunting nocturnal predators is usually a special occasion & requires experience. Kalee’s ecosystems are often wildly different at night. The glyph for Der is a horizon like its fyar Sol but is distinguished by a lone, dark ominous dot beneath it. What’s under there? Who knows!

        Der has the most disciples in its ocean faring kaleesh: the miirmanja (coastal hands of the sea) & the miirpinj (open ocean messengers). Like fire, water is both a giver & taker of life. But Der is considered with much more fear. There is no returning from the cold, dark abyss of deep water. It is a quiet & inescapable death, the opposite of a warrior’s frenetic death on the battlefield.

        But for its life sustaining merits temples to Der are dotted around Kalee’s many streams, rivers, & coasts. They are the most trafficked of Ythral temples by kaleesh trying to grow crops, sail well, & hoping for a safe monsoon season. Offerings include shells, reeds, blue beads & portions of fisherman’s catches. Temples range from small streamside shrines to some of the largest temples on the world given how much of the planet is water.

        Less seen are stelae to Der’s darkness bearing often just one word: “unseen”. These are shrines for the invisible ones. Some of them are seen as a spot to offer the homeless charity & some are seen as thieves’ guild markers, lowering the property value, so-to-speak. Rumor has it there are large hidden temples to Der Unseen, but no one has ever found one.

Klăn (The Many)

The Many is one of most revered of the eight, second only to Mother. Obviously, the Kaleesh are an extremely social species & feel great safety in numbers. Klăn represents family, community, & relationships. Its most notable sub-divines are health, love, & ceremony (i.e. song & dance).

These temples are very popular & always filled with people who will more readily help each other than if they just met on the roads. Klăn also has the most temples. Each community has one in the center, usually started as a central homestead family’s temple. This is what happened with the Sheelal family’s temple.

The glyph for Klăn is, of course, just 2 symbols for ‘person’. Kaleesh who regularly visit their temples often add another symbol to the hearth to represent themselves. Old temples have walls covered in glyphs. Kaleesh will stop by a Klăn temple seeking health & good fortune for their families, community projects, & fruitful marriages. Offerings include bread, berries or flowers that grow in clusters, feathers of colony seabirds, & buflor totems. Little carved frogs for household protection.

On (The One)

        Given that the kaleesh are all about the greater good, the One is kind of taboo. Although it garners a general respect since “there is not Many without first the One”, people are usually judgmental of the On until they need it. The Kaleesh are cautious about the slope between self-care & personal well-being to selfish & pompous. The On doesn’t really have sub categories; it is more about maintaining one’s self. It represents & is represented by balance.

        The only widely known cult of On is all about finding the balance between worthless & selfish. This isn’t even a sneaky mental health allegory. They don’t want to talk about it but will make assumptions if they see you struggling, like a shame your family couldn’t get that under control.

Although quite somber & stigmatized, the On is ultimately responsible for the hardest party an individual can get (besides dying). The Zrandalim is the Rite of Reconnecting. When a kaleesh feels they are yzron they feel disconnected in one way or another. This is often the hardest thing a kaleesh can go through. When that kaleesh feels re-engaged (yzranda: reconnect) with their community through acceptance of self: holy fuck we GAT to throw a party. Because not all kaleesh make it through yzron. Also Zrandalim usually includes beniilim (rite of earned self) since they’ve usually had some title-worthy epiphany.

The glyph for On is ‘person’ with another dark, ominous dot at the end. What is inside someone? Who knows! There are not modern temples to On. There are ruins of ancient On temples built by ill-fated warlords. Every now & again through Kaleeshi history some big shot warrior thinks “You know what, fuck it: I AM the BEST.” & builds monuments to themselves. These ancient emperors serve as cautionary tales against seizing power for oneself.

In more modern practice kaleesh would reach out to their ancestors for help finding their way at private or quiet temples or shrines. This might mean going on a pilgrimage or trying different roles in a community. (Or talking to your mom about your feelings. 75% of the time mom has your back.)

Vang (War)

        Vang is a shortened combination of ingja (hunt) & vasor (battle). Both of these concepts are much older than modern kaleesh. Kaleesh, being predatory creatures, find the hunt instinctual. Battle is closely related, since it utilizes the same concepts. There is usually an important distinction between what you hunt & what you battle. Early kaleesh would be much quicker to fight other groups of unknown kaleesh if they posed a threat to their group. They laid out territories before territory was ever a spoken concept.

        With hunting & combat being the 2nd & 3rd most common activities that kaleesh pour all their energy into, Vang is on par with the popularity of Klăn. The day to day uses of Vang temples is to come thank the animals of the hunts & wishing all involved good health. Hunting parties will often bring a large kill to the temple to process for the community so it was common that the temple floors be covered in blood. Kaleesh will also offer up some of their hunts & goods to hope for peaceful borders (or “I hope da fuck they do” borders). Vang & Sol temples are popular places to take your weapons (or yourself) to be anointed for battle. Vang will grant you honor & glory if you play your cards right.

        The glyph for War is the sigil for person & a vertical stroke downward. Most assume this to mean “go out with intent to end a life” but scholars aren’t really sure. Vang temples are decorated in blood colored tapestries (Kaleeshi blood is red orange). Some of the hardcore ones are actually dyed in the blood of enemies & always contain trophies & bones.

        Also! Since the only times the Kaleesh have been off-world were for the purposes of waging actual war obviously the first of their colony temples were to Vang. Which was a lot for outsiders to take in.

Urv (Death)

        The kaleesh have a complex relationship with Death. If a large part of your culture is oh boy, here I go killing again there is a high chance that you too will be killed. Upon death, a kaleesh is supposed to be humbled as all of the deeds in their life are added up &/or distributed to the community. They are then celebrated for their efforts & encouraged to join the All-Mother.

Even though they are taught to live with death at a young age it can still be pretty scary. Urvuyn is a unique type of kaleeshi anxiety. It translates to “death hate or jealousy”. Some kaleesh get anxiously preoccupied feeling like they have to have some good shit to be presented at their Ythyariilim (rite of death). Some kaleesh will get jaded thinking they will only be celebrated at death.

Death doesn’t have smaller values under it rather, like On, it represents an underlying value: Respect. The kaleesh respect their dead. If you disrespect their dead they will kill you. Granted it can be hard to tell what constitutes as disrespect to outsiders, since kaleesh go around wearing each other’s bones. But that is legitimately (usually) done out of respect. The Huk on Oben started fucking with the kaleeshi alters & were met with the wrath of Bentilais.

There are not many temples solely dedicated to Death. Most Kaleeshi temples contain the bones of their communities or families where you can honor them. Custom differs from place to place whether most of your bones are buried, in an urn, or in the central community pile of everybody’s bones. The glyph for Death is one stroke down & one stroke up. Down to the earth & back up to the All-Mother. When there is recently dead the candles have lanterns or directional covers so that the spirit doesn’t get confused by the light while looking for Oyama.

        Northern kaleesh feel very strongly that the dead deserve rest so priests that commune with the spirits are on thin fuckin’ ice, pal. Western kaleesh have the opposite opinion & feel like grandpa would LOVE the opportunity to go to battle once again. This is just the general geographical vibe but that does mean there is less of a market for undead in the North & a bit of the East in the northern hemisphere.

[let-me-take-your-soul]

if your still taking requests, can you do one where DTK comes out as non-binary to the spartoi (including liz and & patty)? i need a pick me up ngl

I did my best on this, but I'm not non-binary myself, so if there's anything I can improve on, let me know!

I used he/they pronouns for Kid in this scene.

Kid coming out as non-binary to the crew:

It was a casual game night at Maka and Soul’s house. The group was in the middle of a very heated game of Go Fish, complete with childish fish themed cards Soul had picked up as a joke, only for it to end up as the most popular game of the evening.

Kid took a deep breath as they closely observed the group of friends he’d made over the past year. It was as good a night as any to try and give this announcement. They tapped their finger tips together methodically, trying to calm their pounding heart.

“Ha! I win! Suck it, Black*Star!” Soul yells excitedly.

The game had finally ended and after the excitement faded, the group fell into a quiet conversation. Kid politely nods along before there is a sudden lull in the conversation.

“Would I be able to have everyone’s attention? I have something I’d like to discuss with you all,” Kid hears himself say.

“Of course! What do you need to talk about, Kid?” Maka asks, her attention resting fully on Kid now.

Kid was happy to have a friend like Maka who always seemed to know how to direct the group's attention to where it’s wanted. Kid took another deep breath and finally started the speech they’d been practicing in their brain over and over.

“I’ve been mulling a lot of thoughts over during the past few weeks, and I’ve finally come to a conclusion. I don’t feel like I fit into either the category of man or woman. I did some reading and realized that I fit under the umbrella of being nonbinary. I wanted all of you to be the first to hear this,” Kid announces.

He scans each of his friend’s faces to gauge their reactions. So far, nobody seems particularly upset.

“Aw, Kid! Thank you for telling us,” Liz says.

Kid gives a sigh of relief, hearing one of their weapon partner’s immediate support.

“So are there any changes you want us to make in referring to you?” Soul asks.

“Well, you can still call me Kid, but if you wanted to refer to me with both he/him and they/them pronouns, I feel that would make me the most comfortable right now.”

Patty jumps up and tackles Kid in a big hug.

“We’re always gonna love Kid for Kid, no matter what!” She exclaims.

Everyone gives their support to Kid, and they can feel their heartbeat calming down with the overwhelming love everyone is sending Kid’s way. Black*Star gives Kid a solid fistbump, a simple act, but it’s an action that reassures that their friendship remains unchanged. 

Kid gives everyone a smile and takes one more deep breath before speaking again,

“That was really all that I had to say about this for the time being. Thank you all for staying by my side. Now- let’s play Uno. I promise that I will kick all of your asses this next round!”

[lanejadenx]

Bio ~

Born: Lane John Jaden May 13, 1993 (29 years old) Vichy, France Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Male, He/Him, Straight Hometown: New York City Affiliation: The Syndicate Job position: Professional Thief Education: Middle School, GED Relationship status: Single. Ashanti Garcia (m. 2018-2019), Oriane Cion (m. 2012) Children: 0 Positive traits: Generous, Spontaneous, Team-Player, Protective, Adventurous Negative traits: Impulsive, Violent, Manipulative, Vengeful, Cocky

Early Life and Background Lane Jaden was born in Vichy, France and moved with his father to New York City at 4 years old. He is the youngest of three children born to John Wilson Jaden and Marie Hélène Jaden.

Lane's parents were married for 27 years and met in Vichy, France where they raised their three children up until their divorce in 1997. His father was a water treatment operator and, reportedly, a harsh man who believed in discipline. Lane's older sister, Audrey, was born in 1977 and after their parents' divorce just before Lane's fourth birthday, she has cared for him for several years. Their mother, Marie Hélène remarried to a successful French banker and moved to Paris, France where she had two other children. Estranged from his mother at an early age, Lane had a stronger bond with his older sister and was devastated when she married and left the nest. His older brother, Dimitri was born in 1970 and pursued acting despite his father's disapproval. Lane has never truly known him as Dimitri has never shown any interest to his younger brother and never set foot in New York City or the United States.

Teenage Years and Career

In the late 90s to 00s, John Wilson found himself having to raise Lane on his own. His daughter Audrey had her own family to take care of, and his ex-wife along with his oldest son were leading their own separate lives across the pond. Reaching his 50s and suffering from health problems, he often asked Audrey to take care of him as she continued to act like a substitute mother.

As a teenager, Jaden was frequently in trouble for fighting and petty theft; he was also noted for his "bewildering personality" and bullying of smaller children. At 15, he quit high school to work in a car garage. His father feared that the city was corrupting his son, prompting him to move to Mooresville, Indiana  in 2009. However, Lane's wild and rebellious behavior was unchanged, despite his more rural life. In 2011, he was arrested for auto theft, and his relationship with his father deteriorated. Exhausted by his behavior, he decided to ship him off to Paris to live with his mother. Despite having not finished high school, his father convinced him to enroll to Sorbonne University to take semester-based courses to improve his French and obtain a certification. Having only seen his mother at the age of 4, their reunion was awkward and cold. Lane had difficulty fitting in with his half siblings whom he thought received special treatment. He made frequent phone calls to his father begging him to take him back home which he refused as he was hoping Lane could find a more stable home with his half-siblings. But the opposite ensued. Fights broke out between them and one incident involving his stepfather prompted his mother to throw him out of the house. With no money and nowhere to go, Lane ended up couchsurfing and later met his girlfriend Oriane which he later married at only 19. The impulsive marriage was annuled 55 hours later.

Second Marriage, Streetcar Racing and Imprisonement

In 2015, after living for two years in Paris, working as a mechanic, Lane returned to New York City and encouraged his father to leave Indiana to join him. His fascination with cars continued and he became part of the street racing scene while making ends meet as a cashier. In 2016, Lane moved to Miami, one of the most popular racing location and continued his dangerous hobbie that fulfilled his need for constant adrenaline. He met his wife Ashanti in 2018 and they divorced one year later.

At 69 years old, John Jaden announced he was suffering from pancreatic cancer. Devastated by the news, Lane started stealing cars from the streetcar racing community. The drivers, who drove a fleet of luxury sport cars including Ferraris, Lamborghinis and McLarens later found out that Lane was selling parts of their cars for profit. Indeed, attempting to pay for his father's chemotherapy, he decided to plan a robbery with a friend who was an ex-convict. The two robbed a local grocery store, stealing $1K. While leaving the scene, the criminals were spotted by someone who recognized the men and reported them to the police. During the robbery, Lane had also carried a gun which, although it discharged, hit no one. The two men were arrested the next day. Lane demanded to be incarcerated to New York City to be close to his father whose condition worsened. He slowly became part of The Syndicate while behind bars, finally earning money for what he knew what to do best: stealing.

Jaden was convicted of assault with intent to rob, and conspiracy to commit a felony. He was released 2 years later in 2021, his father passed away that year at the age of 71.