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coochiequeens · 4 months

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Thanks to gender ideology a dude who didn't sign up while there was still spaces left in the men's category was able to sign up to compete in the women's category. And he won leaving with prize earmarked for a woman while if he did run in the men's category he would have come in 55th.

By Nuria Muíña García February 2, 2024

A man claiming to be “gender fluid” has won the women’s category of a mountain race in Spain, signing up after there were no more spaces left in the men’s category. Quim Durán Pradas, who lives his day-to-day life as a man, says running makes him feel “feminine.”

La Cursa de NaDalt is a chrono-climbing race held annually in December in Catalonia, and its most recent iteration, held on December 26 of 2023, was its 13th anniversary. The race, which starts in Sant Pere de Torelló and ends at the Sanctuary of Bellmunt, is a short but challenging event, and consists of a spectacular route of trails and climbs of 3,862 meters with a positive elevation gain of 620 meters.

In true Spanish fashion — once at the finish line, every racer gets a glass of sparkling wine, something to eat, and to finish it off, hot chocolate.

But the results of the most recent race sparked outrage in Spain after it was discovered that a 48-year-old male had won the top prize in the women’s category.

Speaking to La Vanguardia, sources from the event’s organizing committee explained that the initial outburst had begun at the awards ceremony, where several people broke out into an argument.

Among them was Quim Durán Pradas, a 48-year-old male runner who was seen at the awards ceremony wearing makeup, earrings, and a ponytail.

“[He] was saying that [he] had won in the women’s category and that [he] had every right to be recognized. As an organization, we were caught off guard. There had never been a case like this in previous editions,” explained sources from within the Centre Excursionista Serragrenyada, organizer of the event.

Durán Pradas reportedly threatened to sue the event if he was not provided the prize he claimed he had earned — a pricey leg of cured Iberian ham from Beher Red Label. The prize’s value could range anywhere from €100 to €500 (approx. $107 to $540 USD) depending on the weight of the leg.

Due to his threats and aggression, the event organizers attempted to accommodate him, noting that it was “a bit of a tense situation.” Durán Pradas ended up receiving a provisional victory in the women’s general category. When he stood to receive his ham, there was booing in the audience.

The fastest female, Laia Montoya, had previously taken the top spot in the race in 2022 and 2023. Though she had been booted out of earning the top prize by Durán Pradas, the organizers sent her a box of Iberian ham anyway out of apparent acknowledgement of the unfairness of the situation.

Durán Pradas would have come in 55th place had he participated in the men’s category.

On Instagram, the race’s organizing committee issued a statement explaining “the ethical, moral and philosophical dilemma” they faced.

“We want to show our support and the utmost tolerance, solidarity, and empathy towards gender-vulnerable people,” they wrote. “However, at the same time we also want to underline that the NaDalt race has always tried to promote women’s sport, because historically it has been discriminated and less visible.”

Yesterday, Durán Pradas appeared on Más Espejo, a popular Spanish morning show, where he explained that he is a “gender fluid” athlete who feels “feminine” when he is running in natural environments, but “masculine” at all other times. He is not on any hormone therapy, and does not intend to seek out any surgeries.

“I am gender fluid, and when I run in the mountains, I feel like a woman, I feel like the other female runners,” he said. “I have been to an inclusive psychologist who told me that this is not a disorder. I am simply a person who, depending on the situations, is gender fluid. In my day-to-day life, at home when I’m with my children, I feel like a man. In my leisure time, in contact with nature, I feel like a woman.”

On the program, Durán Pradas stated that he wanted to educate audiences about gender fluidity, also noting that he had previously felt too scared to participate in a women’s category but decided to finally take the risk after being informed there were no slots left in the men’s category. He described the situation as La Cursa de NaDalt “putting [the opportunity] on a platter” for him.

He refused to accept questions from the presenter and the rest of the morning show’s panel, deeming them too “argumentative” to respond to. He then complained he was being subjected to a “hate crime” after one of the panelists accused him of “cheating” for running without having altered his testosterone levels.

“I thought this was going to go well for me, and you just won’t let me justify my position,” Durán Pradas said. “People who do not understand [gender fluidity] and ridicule it as you are ridiculing it… it can become a hate crime.”

#Spain #Quim Durán Pradas #La Cursa de NaDalt #Of course someone who went through male puberty in going to have an advantage in a race of 3862 meters with a positive elevation gain of 62 #Due to his threats and aggression the event organizers attempted to accommodate him in other words he acted with male entitlement #Another case for SheWon #Congratulations to Laia Montoya for being the fastest woman in the 2023 La Cursa de NaDait #Más Espejo #He's not on hormones #He fathered kids #Another TIM comparing being questioned on his gender feelz to a hate crime #He's 48 #Did these gender fluid feelings start when he realized most of the men were much younger?#Women’s sports is not a retirement plan for older men

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freckliedan · 2 months

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just u mentioned it in one of ur recent ask replies, whats a fagdyke /genq and how is it different to . a dyke (i am also a dyke LMAO)

quite earnestly i have no way of answering this for everyone who IDs as a fagdyke but i can answer for myself! for me (& many others, to my knowledge) it's a gender thing. the very short version is that my gender is both fag and dyke, the way some people's gender is dyke.

i first started both ID'ing as a nonbinary lesbian whose gender was just dyke & using they/them pronouns in 2018 (the same year i made this blog). for me the main part of my identity at that time was the lesbianism? being othered from womanhood was a result of my sexuality.

because like. a lot of cishet womanhood is shaped by being attracted to men and performing gender in a way that's attractive to men. i embodied neither of those things, which automatically disqualified me from many people's definition of womanhood. so i was nonbinary not because i identified away from my assigned gender but because the consensus definition no longer included me.

i embraced dyke as gender, it's something i did very intentionally, but being nonbinary was still a secondary part of my identity. it wasn't until 2019 that i more fully interrogated my gender and started viewing transness as a more central part of my identity?

i started doing that interrogation when i started questioning whether lesbian was the best fit for me. my then-recently-nonbinary-partner was just beginning to explore gender more and i knew that if they someday realized they were a man & felt misgendered by me being a lesbian that lesbian would stop being the right fit for me.

which. that came fully from me? i worry about phrasing this in a way that'd somehow paint my husband in a negative light but it genuinely was just a point at which i started thinking directly about my gender rather than bypassing it by focusing on my sexuality. (and yes, they're my husband now, he's since figured out they're a nonbinary trans guy).

i stopped being nonbinary as an afterthought of lesbianism and started just being nonbinary which was! quite honestly a lot to process because i'd been ignoring it for a long time. but it's been half a decade and i've done my processing?

i realized that what's true for me is that my gender is both fluid and not singular. i label myself as queer and genderqueer when talking to cishet people, maybe as genderfluid/bigender/multigender if getting into the specifics. but that's not how i label myself to me or to my community? (well. queer is).

what i've realized is that like. my attraction is always queer. in a relationship with a woman or dyke aligned nonbinary person, my gender would be more dyke than anything else. in my relationship with my husband my gender is more fag, & the same would be true in a relationship with anyone whose gender is more aligned with man/fag.

(i say more in both of those examples because like. my gender still fluctuates for other reasons. i have days where i feel very little internal sense of gender. i have days where i experience both fag as a gender and dyke as a gender at the same time. the list goes on).

my gender is contextual in a lot of ways—the way i experience gender is different in the more rural red state used to live in vs the big city in a blue state i now call home. but the context of relationships is one of the biggest ones, because it's one of the biggest impacts on how other people percieve me.

like, to strangers and aquaintences i am my husband's husband or spouse, because it's most important to me to be understood as queer. but in much more personal circles i also sometimes call myself his wife, because that's sometimes a more accurate reflection of my gender and the people who i'm comfortable calling myself that around already are familiar with how i experience gender & with the fact that our relationship is queer.

i know that a lot of people likely view fag and dyke as two mutually exclusive identities, as an extension of the binary of man and woman. but even when i was just IDing as a nonbinary dyke i had more in common with nonbinary fags than with cis women. and the fact that i am a dyke has not gone away now that i've also realized i am a fag.

in full i'd describe myself as a fairy fagdyke femme. fag goes first because it's how i more often present myself to the world.

i know i'm not the only person with seemingly contradictory identities like this, but it's not something i talk the most about? a LOT of the queer community constantly regurgitates subtly bioessentialist & transphobic ideas that make it like.. uncomfortable (at best) to be present in both lesbian and gay men's spaces as a bigender/multigender person.

so i primarily connect with other trans people, especially genderfreaks like me.

ummm my last note here is. for many other fagdykes or dykefags their definition of the label and personal experience is completely different from mine! it can be the same thing as being a dyke. some dykes are transmasc but still have dyke as their main gender and identity. i'm barely scratching the surface on this.

#i'm a fag and a dyke at the same time! that's all.#jam replies #anon #gender studies #gender

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luciidsimmer · 2 years

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The Election Results Are In... *Whimsy Stories* S1 EP26

CC links, gameplay, & more episodes below!⇩

Meet teen Bodhi! He's so opposite from Ollie, but still a great mix of Opal and Geo!

Opal and Benji have been continuing their morning traditions of going for a jog! Im going to miss this household so much

Bodhi has started working out a lot since aging up! He loves lifting weights and going to the skate park.

Ollie won student council!!! He's introduced himself to just about all of the student body, and that hard work has payed off! He feels so proud of himself and so excited for his new role as student council member.

Violet dragged Ollie to the pier after school to celebrate his big win! After walking around for a while Violet realized Ollie was a bit distracted.

Ollie: I was just wondering... when did you realize you were gender fluid?

Violet: I guess I've always known! I don't always connect with specific gender roles, and being gender fluid just feels the most authentic to myself. What about you? Are you questioning your gender?

Ollie: I don't know... not really. Ive always felt like a boy but I think maybe... Im questioning my sexuality. I just don't know how to pin point it. I don't care too much about dating, but at the same time I think I'm attracted to men. I just don't know what to label myself as...

Violet: Labels are only as important as you want them to be, and they can change over time! Just don't overthink it; What feels the most authentic to you at this point in your life?

Ollie: Well overthinking is my specialty, but... I guess... Im gay. Yeah, I think Im gay!

Violet: See, my methods work! And just know that no matter what you identify as or how you change, I'll always be your best friend! Now let's go catch some rides before everything closes.

Ollie was on cloud nine coming home and couldn't stop smiling! He's so grateful to have a friend like Violet who he can talk to and open up about anything!

Stone Family CC | Home CC | Challenge rules + creator

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raspberryconverse · 1 year

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Yesterday's Heartstopper Patreon page (1431) really got me thinking.

If you're a patron, you know what I'm talking about, but if you're not, I think the best way to mention it without completely giving things away (especially since that's not fair to those who paid for the updates) is just to mention what the question was: "Does that count?"

It kinda hit me like a ton of bricks.

This is going to be a long story and get very personal, so if you really don't care to hear about a stranger's thoughts on sexuality, virginity and other experiences, feel free to scroll on by.

If you don't know much about me, the key details I'm in my late 30s, bisexual and recently (5/6/22) married to a gender fluid person. Much like Nick Nelson, I just assumed I was straight for my entire childhood and adolescence. I wasn't completely oblivious to other sexual orientations. My best friend in high school was very gay (like my mom could tell from across the street when we were 13). I just knew I liked boys and didn't really think much about it until I met (as she was known on my early 00's Blogger) Purple Haired Sarah in my photography class my senior year of high school. She was very cool in my book (I mean, purple hair!), though I hung out with mostly the punk/goth kids (fun fact: my main group of friends were actually a year younger than me, but we met in math class because they were in the advanced track and I was in the regular track. Most of them were pretty smart, but just had fun colored hair and lots of safety pins and shopped at thrift stores and Hot Topic). It didn't occur to me that I had feelings for her until I started having steamy dreams about her.

I "lost my virginity" (I'm using quotes because the more I think about this, the more I like the idea that virginity is a bullshit social construct) when I was 17. I wasn't particularly in love with the guy, though we had been dating for awhile, but I just kind of wanted to do it. All my friends already had, which sounds like I succumbed peer pressure, but I think I just wanted to get it over with. I do remember feeling kind of gross about it the next day, though I think it was just the build up and eventual let down coupled with the constant thought of "Can anyone tell?" I do remember it was night before the state Solo & Ensemble competition, so that just made the day extra weird for me. Like I had this secret, but I felt like people knew it by looking at me. It's hard to describe.

It wasn't like I hadn't done anything else before that. A thought that sticks in my head is a conversation I had with a guy I dated a few times in high school one of the last times we hung out. "I remember you were naked a lot." And he was talking about before we ever actually had sex.

And that's where that question in Heartstopper feels so weird to me. It's the phrase "actually had sex." I don't remember if we had sex the second time we dated in high school because I don't remember if that was before or after I "lost my virginity." I know we did the time he visited me when I was in college in Chicago and the time I went over to his mom's house after I conceded defeat as a college graduate (it was the start of the Great Recession) and moved back "home" with my dad and grandparents (he even commented that he didn't know why we "always" ended up doing it when we got together).

I think what flips that idea of what actually counts on its head for me is being bisexual. Because I know some of the things I did with that guy before we had PIV sex are what I would count as "sex" with women. After I came out (and had sex with a woman for the first time) I had this weird theory in my head that maybe you kind of have 2 virginities: one with men and one with women. And I think that also stems from this scene in Chasing Amy

youtube

Now the other thing that was going through my head with that movie, despite the fact that it was one of my favorite movies, especially when I first realized I was bisexual, was that it was pretty biphobic. I mean, it was released in 1997 and written by a cishet man, so I'll give it the slightest pass for that, but still. IDK if I could watch it today with as much love as I did in my late teens/early 20s. Plus, it (along with my theory) completely skips over the fact that there are people who don't identify as male or female (e.g. my spouse), but we'll come back to that in a bit.

I guess why the whole "Does it count?" question throws me for a loop now is because there are things that if I did them with women, I'd consider it sex, but if I did them with men, I wouldn't. I mean, yes, oral sex is still sex, but it's not the "standard" in a hetero relationship and is also why I didn't think that guy and I had "real sex" the first time we dated or that I didn't think I lost my virginity until I was 17. I almost feel that if I had realized I was bisexual before then and had sex with a woman first, that would have been the line, even though I had definitely done some of the things that would have "counted" before with a man. And that's what's so weird to think about. Why did it "count" as sex with a woman, but didn't "count" when I did the exact same thing with a man?

At any rate, my whole "two virginities" theory definitely went out the window when I started dating my spouse. TBH, I had never met anyone who identified as non-binary (at least at the time that I knew them because, fun fact: I have 2 exes who now identify as non-binary, but didn't when we were dating) until I met them. I knew it was a thing and as we started to get to know each other, I started to learn more about being gender fluid from them. Going back to the biphobia of Chasing Amy, I think what really makes it biphobic is Alyssa's internalized biphobia. Like she truly is bisexual, but she can't seem to admit it to herself. She feels like she has to choose. Holden makes her feel like she has to choose and if she continues her relationship with him, she has to admit that she "just needed some deep dicking" (he actually says this and tries to make it sound like a joke, but I think he really does feel like he wanted to brag, "She thought she was a lesbian until she met me!"). And I totally went through a phase like that my first year of college. I said I was a lesbian, but I would still sleep with men (we won't talk about the bad choices I made in my late teens and early 20s because I realize a lot of them stemmed from my fucked up brain chemistry and not being medicated). IDK if it was a thrill to call myself a lesbian or I liked the attention it gave me (I really loved toying with, "I'm a lesbian, but I'll make an exception for you"), but I most certainly was not actually a lesbian. And I think I knew it. I eventually accepted that I was definitely bisexual, though I leaned more towards the gay end of the Kinsey scale. I know I even said, "Yes, I'm bisexual, but I could never see a penis again for the rest of my life and be fine with it."

I'm not sure how much of this makes sense and who's even bothered read this far. I'm not sure how to sum this up either. I just was reading all of the "Yes! It's counts!" comments on that page and felt really compelled to talk about how weird it is that what I thought "counts" with a woman didn't "count" with a man. Virginity is a strange social construct and my favorite movie from my late teens/early 20s is actually really biphobic and probably what caused me to have internalized biphobia during that time of my life.

#the whole time i was writing this i kept typing “viriginity”#typos #virginity #virginity is a social construct #does it count?#internalized biphobia #biphopia #bisexual #being bi is hard #chasing amy #heartstopper #patreon #random thoughts #this made more sense in my head #Youtube

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feralrunaway · 3 years

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The Predicament

Prompt: from @october505, I can't get the thought out of my head where Mike is a younger alpha trying to deal with your heat for the first time. Walt, and maybe Sy (both alphas too) are there to guide him through. Just a/b/o stuff.

Characters: Alpha!Mike, Alpha!Walter Marshall, Alpha!Captain Syverson, Fem!Omega!reader. Whew get your holes ready.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, swearing, smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), size kink, knotting, bodily fluids, like a lot of them, just...so much come

A/N: Okay y’all. I’ve never written an a/b/o fic before so please don’t judge too harshly. If I got some details wrong I’m sorry, but this was certainly fun to explore! Written from the reader’s perspective to fit the prompt, however there are size and gender specifics mentioned, so I apologize that it isn’t entirely inclusive. Credit for Mike calling Walter “Boss” goes to @hope-to-hell.

When you’d purchased the little fixer-upper ranch home, you’d seen an opportunity to gain a little independence. A way to work toward something that belonged to you, that you could make fit your needs. Maybe it had been a small defiance on your part, to show that you could still do what anyone else could, despite your status as a small omega.

It turned out to be quite a different story though. The little house needed far more work than you had expected, and you quickly realized you were in over your head. It was time to hire out some help. A lot of help. A few newspaper ads and phone calls later, and you’d found what seemed to be the perfect crew.

The three large alphas had started their own construction business, looking for jobs to showcase their work and get their business off the ground. They were relatively new to the area too. A retired police detective and army Captain, both gruff, hairy, and in their 30’s, as well as the younger one, fresh out of college in his mid 20’s with an English degree and no idea what to do with it yet. After they’d offered to cut you a deal, being one of their first customers, you’d agreed to hire them quickly. That was how you’d found yourself in this predicament.

—————

Your heat started slowly. At first you barely recognized it as what it was. You’d been outside in the summer sun the last two days, supervising the work the three men were doing on your home, so when the sweat began gathering at the back of your neck, you hadn’t given it much thought. And when that sweat had turned to a full body flush by the second afternoon, you figured perhaps you’d had a bit too much sun, and excused yourself inside for a cool drink.

It helped. Briefly.

Thinking you’d cured your ails, and eager to get back to proving you could be helpful, you made your way to the open front doorway where the three large men were currently arguing over the length of screws needed for the porch boards.

“What’s the prob...lem...uhm…?”

You stuttered over your query as you drew closer, the force of their gathered pheromones hitting you like a brick wall. The sheen of sweat coating their large bodies only amplified the scent, and your head immediately began to swim. Something stirred low in your belly as all three turned to look at you.

“I, uhm...how’s it coming out here? I…thought I’d...check…” your speech slowed as your core heated further and you realized exactly what was happening. Their stares intensified as their bodies turned toward you.

“You feelin’ alright darlin’?” the Captain asked, taking a step toward you, only to stop abruptly as his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His look of concern quickly changed to one of hunger. A quiet growl rumbled from his chest unintentionally, causing a shiver to course through your body. You hadn’t noticed the other two drawing nearer, but you heard Walter’s deep baritone wash over you.

“Go back inside, omega.”

The command had you baring your neck on instinct before you caught yourself, a breathy sigh escaping your lips.

To your right, the younger one, Michael, rested his forearm against the doorframe, leaning closer. “I don’t know, Boss...I think I like her right where she is.”

Walter’s large hand gripped the back of his neck, causing Mike’s eyes to widen slightly as he was pulled back. He growled at the larger alpha but didn’t fight, his eyes still trained on you. The Captain still hadn’t moved from in front of you, his eyes intense and dark. When he spoke, his voice was gravel, as though he was fighting with himself to pull the words from his own throat.

“Inside. Lock the door.”

You were grateful for the repeated command, because you didn’t think your feet would have moved on their own. After an eyeful of the three men, their sweat covered muscles, and the two beards that screamed virility, you’d had to fight every instinct within yourself not to beg them to help with your current predicament. You barely managed to close the door, glaring at the lock as you turned the tumbler.

———

“We clean up, we leave. No lingering,” Walter barked out, tension clear in the tendons straining in his arms as he gathered up supplies.

“Boss.”

“No, Mike. Walt’s right, time to go,” Sy stated, struggling against his baser brain to do what needed done. “We’ll come back in a few days to start working again.”

“A few days?? You’re just gonna let her suffer in there? God she smells so fucking good. She needs a knot right now.”

Walter let out a low warning growl, but Mike’s instincts were weighing over his reason. He growled back, almost instantly receiving a smack upside the back of his head from Sy.

“Walt could knock you flat in half a minute. Now get your head on straight Mikey. She’s an unclaimed omega.”

“I’ve been with omegas before.”

“You’ve never taken an omega in heat before. You’d lose your yourself quick and probably do something stupid, try to bite her.”

“I would not, come on. You scented her, I know you did. She needs us.”

Listening to them from the window, your heat-addled brain agreed vehemently with Michael. You didn’t want them to go. They could fix this for you. Why were they leaving?

Get it together, you chastised yourself, letting out a heaving sigh. They were right. You should just lock yourself up in your room and let this pass. That sounded like the right thing to do. That sounds like torture.

You nearly keened as you heard the doors of their truck slam shut and the tires crunch over gravel as they drove away.

————

As it turned out, a few days only made it worse. Their scents were everywhere, marking each area of the house they’d been working in, driving you absolutely insane. Everything was too hot and you’d reduced yourself to wearing nothing but a thin camisole and panties. Your fingers gave little to no relief in your heat. You wanted one thing and one thing only. Well...three things. You were nearly feral by the time they returned.

When the sound of voices came from the porch, announcing their arrival, you would have ripped the door off its hinges in your haste if you could have. As it were, seeing Walter standing in the opening with his fist raised to knock, biceps bulging under his thin grey tee, you were reduced to a single word.

“Alpha.” The word was nothing more than a broken whine.

His eyes darkened, seeing you no more well off than they’d left you, hair mussed and the scent of your slick heat strong around you. “Fuck.”

“Told you she needed us,” Mike growled as he shoved past Walter and strode up to you. His hand captured your chin, tilting your head to nose at your neck, dragging in a lungful of your scent. “I’m going to help you, little one. Would you like that?”

You could only manage a small whimper, nodding your head as your thighs coated with your arousal at his nearness. Your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, pulling uselessly at his larger frame. He chuckled darkly.

The Captain belatedly joined the other two in the doorway, surprise coating his features as he took in the sight and scent of you before his chest heaved in a large breath and he groaned.

“Fuckin’ hell. She still not out of it?”

“Not even close,” Walter gritted out, the clear outline of his erection pressing against his jeans. “It would seem we did a disservice after all, leaving her here.”

“Damn right we did. I suppose Mike had the right of it after all,” Sy said, moving closer. His large frame crowded close to you from behind, his beard tickling your cheek as he drew in a deep breath of your scent. You could feel his hard length press into your back as he leaned into you. “You smell so fuckin’ sweet little peach. Shouldn’t’ve made you suffer here all alone.”

Mike’s hands were exploring your body lazily, but he glared at Sy when he touched you, earning a rumble in response from the bull of a man. Walter, easily the largest and most dangerous of the three, seemed to exercise the most control of himself, although even he seemed to be losing the battle. “Enough. She chooses if she wants this.”

The aggression in the air was doing nothing to tame your desperate need to be fucked, so you dug your nails into Mike’s chest through his shirt. “Need you. Now. All of you.”

“Mmm feisty. Don’t worry Sweetcheeks. No more waiting,” Mike said, lifting you up, which allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your still-clothed core against his aching bulge. “We’re gonna take good care of you.” He started toward the stairs that would lead to your room, the other two close behind.

Bodily tossing your small frame onto the bed, Mike roughly pulled his shirt over his head, his plush lips stretching wide over white teeth in a wicked, feral grin.

Leaning over you as his hands gripped your shirt and pulled it up, he murmured, “I’m gonna fill you up babe, gonna give you everything you need.”

You could only whimper in response, too far gone in your heat and the excitement of having the three of them there. You arched up as he freed you of your shirt, exposing your breasts to him, begging without words. As he took one into his mouth, a large hand snaked into your hair, tilting your head up to the Captain’s awaiting mouth. He kissed you harsh and deep, tongue tasting you, and you gripped the back of his head to keep him close. Another large hand gripped your other breast before trailing down to your soaked core.

You broke the kiss with Sy, a whine escaping your lips. “No more teasing. Please. I need...now.”

That earned a collective sound of want from the men surrounding you. Mike pulled back, shucking out of his jeans and boxers, his length jutting proudly as he took himself to hand. Walter’s exploring hands went to your panties, tearing them from your body, only to be quickly replaced by Sy’s thick fingers pushing into you.

“God damn Sugar, drippin’ wet for us. You need a knot in you?”

You whined and nodded pathetically, thrusting your hips up against his hand, earning a lusty moan from him. “So fuckin’ eager. Look at you.”

“Move your hand, Sy,” Mike growled. You watched as Sy pulled his fingers from you, using his other hand to free his erection from his jeans before coating his length in your slick, pumping his fist with a groan. Mike’s eager hands flipped you over onto your stomach before pulling your hips back so you settled onto your knees.

The bed dipped, and you looked up to see Walter’s thick, hairy thighs kneeling in front of you, his impressive cock hanging heavy and hard right in your line of vision. You weren’t even sure when he’d shed his clothes, but you couldn’t even think to question it right then. His hand tilted your chin up. Swiping a thumb over the precome coating his tip, he pressed it past your lips and against your tongue. “Suck.”

You did exactly as told, savoring the taste of him as you felt Mike press against your entrance. You bucked against him in need, mewling around Walter’s thumb. “Easy, darling. Let Michael take care of you.”

Your entrance was slick and ready, and he pressed in with a groan. The feeling of finally being full was overwhelming. You’d needed this for so long. You cried out, moving against him, pulling the most delicious sounds from his throat.

As Mike’s hips began to pump, Walter lined his cock up with your mouth, which you gratefully opened to allow him in. The rocking thrusts from behind became more fervent at the sight of you sucking eagerly on Walter’s offering, drawing forth groans from both men. The Captain’s hand played idly with your nipples while he continued to stroke himself, cock coated in your sweet slick.

“Remember, Michael. No biting,” Walt rumbled. “Careful when you tie her. She’s your responsibility right now.”

The rules buzzed in Mike’s ear as his knot began to grow. He knew he had to exercise some control, but as he felt himself swelling with each thrust, his eyes traveled to the sweet, delicate skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He pressed his nose against it, inhaling deeply. Each pump of his hips was pulling the sweetest sounds from your throat, driving him closer and closer to release. He let his teeth graze over your skin, reveling in the feel of your tight warmth. His fingers gripped your hips like iron, pulling you back against his groin, begging entrance for his knot as your cunt struggled to accommodate. He nearly lost all reason as it finally pushed past your entrance and he felt your walls grip around the impossible stretch. The need to claim you overwhelmed him.

Just as his teeth began to apply pressure, he felt thick, strong fingers thread through his hair and grip tight, pulling his head back in a cruel arch. Walter loomed above you both, cock deep in your throat, his eyes boring into Michael’s. “No. Biting.”

The words rumbled from his chest, and the combined sensation of the pain in Mike’s scalp and the fluttering of your cunt were enough to push him over the edge. You cried out around Walter’s cock as Mike thrust his knot in as deep as it would go, locking himself to you. He let out a deep groan as his sac drew tight and he began to release inside you, thick ropes of come spilling into you. The searing warmth of his seed filling you made your walls clench impossibly tight, your vision whitening as your climax consumed you.

Watching you fall apart around Mike was enough to bring Walter over the edge. He thrust deep into your mouth, his cock brushing the back of your throat as he came, feeding you his come as his knot swelled outside of your lips. You swallowed eagerly, the taste prolonging your earlier bliss, causing you to clench again around Michael’s knot. He groaned, spilling more come, making small desperate attempts to thrust despite being locked in place. When he was finished, Walter moved from his place, making room for Sy as he stroked himself to completion. Mike wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you up against his chest to expose your breasts to Sy, who came with a grunt, one hand squeezing at his knot while the other stroked in a stuttering rhythm, spattering your breasts and chin with his spend.

Walter ran his large fingers over your come-covered breasts, feeding you the other Alpha’s seed before he leaned in to kiss you deeply. When he pulled back, his lips remained on yours, his low voice whispering, “What a good little omega you are.”

Your heart warmed at his praise while your body nearly collapsed from the exhaustion of taking on the pleasure of three alphas at once. Mike’s arms were the only thing keeping you upright at this point.

Sy settled himself on one side of the bed, Walt on the other, leaving space for Mike to lower you down in the center and curl around you, still tied together. They petted and purred, praising you for taking them so well. Cuddled in a cocoon of sated alpha, your heat settled for a short time.

Mike whispered in your ear as you drifted into a hazy sleep, “Get your rest Sweetcheeks. We’ve still got plenty of work to do.”

#captain syverson #walter marshall #mike hellraiser #a/b/o smut #smut #prompt #the predicament

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gl0rious-purpose · 3 years

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Exciting and Fast Things (Loki x TVA!Reader)

Summary: Life at the TVA was boring. Of course, Loki had to be the one to spice up life there, specifically yours.

Word Count: 3214 Words

Author's Note: There is implied sexual content and light swearing, but there's not really a lot of details.

The TVA. The infamous Time Variance Authority. It was the only thing you had known since you were born. Or at least you were taught that. A man by the name of Mobius M. Mobius, who was obsessed with jet skis, had raised you as his daughter. He was kind, gentle, and very much dad material. You never really went to school, the knowledge just magically showed up as you got older. While you got older, your dad had discovered a variant. The variant had been killing minute men all across the timeline, causing a huge disruption in workflow.

The disruption mostly affected you. You worked as a file keeper and you had to constantly keep updating files as the minute men and women were killed and new ones were trained and brought in, minds clearly wiped. Well, in a sense. As far as you know, you were the only one who had been their your whole life, besides Mobius and Ravonna.

While you were working one day, an alarm started going off. It was on that didn't go off as often, but it piqued your interest. The light would flash whatever color an identified variant radiated. This one radiated green. Those who radiated green tended to be perfectionists, analytical, conceptual, cool, calm, inventive and logical. They could even be mischievous. The green ones were always rare, or at least that's what you thought. You've never met one. Well, that was until Mobius had identified the variant killing all personnel.

It was a Loki variant. Out of curiosity, you looked up the Loki variants on your computer. Most of the variants you saw were apparently "pruned." The one they had identified apparently was unlisted because you couldn't find on that was female, but seeing that all of them were fluid with sex and gender, you thought they had just shifted to a different form. As you scrolled through the files, one caught your eye. Loki Laufeyson, Timeline: 2012. You pulled the file up and scanned it. 2012? There's no way they're here now. As you read further, you found the status area. In bright red lettering read 'In Process Of Capture.'

Your thin brows furrowed lightly before returning back to their relaxed position. We capture them? You inquired mentally, not wanting a response. You shook it all off before closing down all the files and clearing the history. That was the number one rule when it came to computers in the TVA. You log in, get the information you require, and then you would clear out without a trace. You truly hated it, but it wasn't your place to complain about an extremely reasonable rule. Closing the area completely and locking it, you stared into the now dark area. I wonder if I'll ever meet on of these green Loki variants. You mused mentally, sighing as your keys bounced against your thigh as you made your way to your shared apartment with Mobius.

Several Months Later...

Months had passed since the Loki variant was identified. You've never seen your dad more excited than that moment. Well, besides when he met you and he got new jet ski magazines. You only got them because they made him happy, but you were more into motorcycles. Running the risk of getting thrown off an open bike at high speed just appealed to you. Maybe you liked the idea of it. Or maybe it was the thrill. One of these days, you were determined to ride one at least.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

A week ago, the minute personnel was able to capture the 2012 Loki variant. While The Avengers going back in time to break the timeline was fate, Loki escaping with the tesseract was not. You stood by the docking bay, waiting eagerly to see the green variant. Your dad had been so excited about this, he wanted you to be there. He wanted you to see that all the hard work paid off. Of course, you had to stay in a corner, far out of harm's way. As the portal open up, the minute personnel pushed the variant through. Your breathing faltered as you took him in. He was menacing, but in a good way. He was extremely tall. If he were to stand by you, he would've loomed over you like a giant. The idea made you shiver, not with anxiety, but with.. anticipation. You wanted that to happen.

A loud clink caused you to focus back in on what was happening. The personnel was unlocking his chains, leaving his mouth guard for last. As they dropped the chains, they looked at the guard before deciding to leave it on until they got to booking. You stared intensely at the variant. The almost viridian green suit flattered his form quite well. Instinctively, your mouth turned up into a smirk at his appearance, eyes flickering to the sudden movement. Mobius had walked up to the variant, clearly pleased with himself.

"Loki Laufeyson. Glad you could be here." Mobius spoke courtly to him, which caused the man in front of him to roll his eyes. If you didn't know Mobius, you would've thought he would've pruned him right there and then at the action. But that's the thing – you did know him. Mobius would rather work along side this variant and understand him better in person than removing him from the timeline completely. Mobius gave a smile and stepped aside to let the guards through. They walked swiftly, afraid that Loki might try something while not locked up. You staring must've been felt because suddenly his eyes flickered over to your location. If you weren't mistaken, you could've swore you saw a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes. Once he was out of sight, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Oh my god...You couldn't help, but mentally swooned over the variant. You had to manually take care of your breathing as you tried to compose yourself as Mobius came over, huge smile plastered on his face.

"Wasn't that awesome?!" Mobius spoke in a breathy voice, overwhelmed by the encounter. You shot him a small grin, happy that he finally got what he wanted. He pulled you into a huge, bear hug, rocking you back and forth. Mobius pulled away, pressed a kiss to your forehead. He shot you a toothy grin before glancing at one of his own personnel. They gave him some type of gesture, you believe it was to indicate that the variant was ready to be interviewed and he nodded before looking back at you.

"Well, I better go over the variant's history. I'll send my findings up to be filed in a bit." You barely nodded at him before you saw him basically run out of there to get to the interview room. Back against the wall, you stood there for a couple minutes. You would've spoken to Mobius instead of giving simple gestures, but it felt like Loki had stolen your voice. Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself off of the wall and walked out of the docking bay to the files room.

As you got settled in and started to dive into your work, your mind kept wandering to the variant. He was just so hypnotizing and he had you spellbound. Without moving your head, your eyes glanced up at the personnel walking by as you remember somewhere in the file that said his mother – well, adopted mother – had taught him magic. Had he casted an incantation on you? You pondered on this for a while before rolling your eyes.

"We all know magic is incapable of use here." You muttered, internally scolding yourself at the thought. You reached over to grab a file you had to digitize and placed it in the scanner. As you watched the devices bar of light through the closed lid, you realized that you weren't going to get a moment without thinking about the variant. You groaned, sitting back in your chair as you waited for the scanning to finish. You thought this was going to be a long day like the rest. However, it was starting to change. A long day? This was going to be a long week.

Every work day went the same way, but it appeared Mobius was spending more and more time with the Loki variant. Please let Mobius get his work done with Loki. You internally pleaded this for several mornings as you watched him rush from the apartment to meet up with the God. You placed your hands on the counter as your hung your head, mentally exhausted from thinking about Loki. Maybe you should talk to him? You suggested to yourself as you took in a deep breath, looking up. As you looked up, a magazine caught your eyes. You slid your body over the counter as you reached for it, smiling at the motorcycle on the front.

"Great," you started, slightly sarcastically. "An excuse not to have to file dad's notes yet. Score!" You celebrated a little before grabbing your things and walking down to files. You were going to file those note whether you liked it or not, you were just going to make it the first thing you did. Walking out, you locked the door, juggling the items you had in your hands. As you swung your bag over your shoulder in the hall, magazine in hand, you heard minute personnel talking behind you, boots rapidly hitting the ground loudly.

"Did you hear? Mobius is actually trusting the Loki variant to roam the place." The first one spoke, clearly astonished. The other one scoffed behind you.

"I think he's definitely gonna help." The second one's snide remark made you pick up the pace a bit, eager to get away from the negativity.

"Yeah, help himself." The first guard replied in a snarky manner before they both let out demeaning giggles rang out, nauseating you. You swallowed the feeling as you picked up the pace and made it to files. Looking up at the clock on the wall, you saw you were extremely early. Maybe I can get more work done. You mused to yourself as you got the area unlocked and ready for business. Dropping into your chair, you turned on the computer and logged in. As it logged in and took you to the homescreen, you zoned out. Was Mobius really letting Loki walk around freely? You pondered on what the hunters had said, jumping at a file being dropping on the counter. You looked at the guard, who in turn looked at you apologetically, muttering a 'sorry' before scurrying off to their post. You shook your head as you grabbed the file and placed it on the scanner. By the way it was going, you could already tell it was gonna be a long work day.

As hours passed, by the fourth hour of work, you had already gotten all your work done. Even though time moves differently here, it could at least speed the fuck up. You thought, grumpily. Normally at this time, you would have more files coming. You had gotten a notification that no more files were going to come until tomorrow due to printing error. As you sat there, wondering what to do, you remembered your motorcycle magazine. Grabbing it gleefully, you eagerly started to flip through the magazine. As you read each page, you basically checked out if the world around you. In fact, you were so engrossed with the magazine, you barely noticed that Loki had walked up to the counter in front of your desk. He leaned over the desk, examining you, waiting for you to notice his presence. His eyes raked over your body, enticed with what he was seeing. You were the most ravishing person he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. Gods, the things he would do to you if he had permission. He leaned further, not realizing you hadn't seen him. After a couple minutes, he decided to clear his throat to catch your attention. The sound startled you as you quickly closed the magazine and threw it under files, looking at the person briefly. As you adjusted yourself, you did a double-take of the person leaning comfortably across from you. You gulped, hoping your sudden nervousness wasn't apparent. He gave you a smile as he caught your eyes, easing the tensions, but causing your stomach to twist into knots. A sailor's knot to be specific, and it was quite uncomfortable. You turned your body more towards him, not realizing it allowed him to take you in fully. His blue eyes flickered down before they rose slowly back to yours.

"Hello, Loki Laufeyson." You spoke slowly, hoping your voice was as steady as you tried to make it. He hummed in response, scanning your chest for a name tag.

"Hello..." His voice trailed off, realizing he couldn't find your name anywhere.

"..None of your business." You finished his sentence, wanting to mess with him before you actually let him know your name. You couldn't imagine how wide his eyes would be when he learned who your dad was. You watched him suck in his cheeks, trying to figure out how to respond. His eyes closed as he head leaned back fully, allowed your eyes to slowly trail from the underside of his jaw to the bottom of his throat. It was the strangest thing, but you thought it was attractive seeing him like that. I'd like to see that more often. You chewed on your lip as some questionable thoughts came to mind. His head fell back down, face covered with determination.

"Excuse my manners. You know my name, but I don't know yours. What is your name? A woman as ravishing as you must have a lovely name.." Loki's voice seemed to grow deeper as the sentence trailed off, flicking his out against his bottom lip as looking you up and down again, hoping you noticed. Without warning, your cheeks grew a little hot. Your eyes flickered down as you tried to make your cheeks go back to their normal hue, mentally scolding yourself. Loki smirked mischievously at your reaction. He watched your head turn back to him, ready to respond.

"It's Y/N. Y/N Mobius." You paused as you watched the gears turn in his head before his mouth formed an 'o' shape. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That was definitely not the reaction you were expecting, let alone the one you wanted.

"He talked about you. I didn't connect the dots that you were his daughter until now." Loki shrugged nonchalantly, giving you a warm, cunning smile. All you did was nod in response. Now that these foolish semantics were done, you decide to find out why he was really here.

"Anyway, why are you here?" You inquired, reaching over to clear the computer before logging off. You won't remember to do so after this conversation. You glanced over at him as he quickly put his words together.

"Well, Y/N, I came to see the prettiest person at the TVA." He stated his true intentions, watching your face intently for a reaction. As he watched you stare blankly at him, he realized you might've been oblivious to his flirting attempts. This is going to be harder than I thought. He grumbled internally, throwing a mischievous smile on.

"That would be you, darling." The nickname rolled off of Loki's silver tongue, making your stomach twist tighter. Ignoring the internal war, you have a quick smile before going back to just staring at him. Your unimpressed look threw Loki off completely. He breathed in deeply, realizing he'd have to change the subject to keep this interaction going. He needed this to work.

"Um, anyway... What were you reading? You know, before I distracted you." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, watching your eyes flicker to the finish pile of files. Sighing, you dug out the magazine and tossed onto the counter besides Loki's arms. He eyes the magazine, taking in every detail.

"It's a motorcycle magazine." You explained blatantly, knowing he knew what it was. He hummed in response before chuckling.

"Your dad likes jet skis and you like motorcycles. Huh." He pondered for a second before continuing. "How interesting." One of his brows raised as he looked up at you, intrigued.

"What can I say? We both are drawn to exciting and fast things. It's our passion." You explained, hoping Loki was going somewhere with this conversation. If he wasn't, you were very much prepared to go home and sleep. He looked down as he licked his lips, eyes peering back up at you through his brows.

"You know, I'm very exciting." Loki stopped his sentence, hoping he had captured your attention. Your attentive eyes stared back at him, head tilting slightly to the right. Make this good, Laufeyson...You internally urged him, eyes squinting slightly.

"And I can go as fast as you like." His eyes flickered to your lips before moving back up, sending you a quick wink as he laughed darkly. You laughed nervously, biting your lip as you brought your hand up to the computer, turning it off. Well, if he's interested. Loki watched you push yourself away from the computer desk, eyes dropping down to your thighs. As much as he tried to stop himself and half some self control, he stared at them, sizing you up a bit. He nodded as his eyes trailed back up your body again, this time he did it seductively, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You walked over to him slowly, hands slowly sliding up his body before settling on his chest, palm towards him. Loki watched you, eager for your next moves. You moved your right hand to grab his tie, gently tugging him towards you. Leaning your mouth up against the corner of his, the corners of your lips turning up teasingly, eyes fluttering closed.

"If you're so confident about that, let's find out." You whispered to him seductively, reaching out and biting his bottom lip. Loki growled at you, roughly grabbing your hips as he hungrily pressed his lips to yours, his tongue making it's way quickly into your own. You moaned as he continued to battle your own tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue grazed against the inside of your mouth, exploring every inch. Suddenly remembering you were out in the open, kissing a variant, you pulled away for air. As you briskly locked everything up, leaving the magazine on the counter, you grabbed Loki's wrist and dragged him back to the shared apartment. You looked behind, winking at him before he hurried to walk beside you, slipping an arm around your waist. The slyness? The mischief? The analytical skills? Loki was without a doubt a green variant, and you were sure his personal skills were going to keep proving that.

You weren't entirely sure of what was going to happen tonight, but you were very eager to let it happen. You just hoped Mobius was so busy talking shop with Ravonna that he wouldn't be coming home.

You can also read this fic here <3

#Loki #Loki One Shot #TVA #TVA AU #Marvel AU #Marvel One Shots #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Mobius M. Mobius #Angst #Light Fluff #Implied Smut

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dreamgirledward · 2 years

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OMG HI i just jay these but i’ll ask u the same ones too 10. 13 (cas. or dean if u want). 17. 22. 23. :)

oOoOhhH

10. Most disliked arc. Why? oh god british mol 100% i dont even have to think about that lol. (ok you know what actually this is a tie between something else but ill get to it.) it honest to god feels like a bunch of americans who have never met a british person and ONLY watched harry potter decided to create a supporting british cast solely off of that. it's very stupid. first of all, the accents are awful. second of all they fucked up SO BADLY when they could have used this as a way to open up the world a bit more, to have the men of letters american chapter-houses revived but they just.......never did??? i think?? the bmol also just ceased to exist once that plot finished up too which was also REALLY bad writing imo. this is all to say mick was the best of that bunch and he shouldve had the screen time ketch did lol. i dont care for redemption arcs for characters that annoyed me from the start. ketch was fun randomly but my god did i get bored of him FAST. anyway the other arc i despised was the crowley and lucifer pet play one not because either of them (mark and misha) did terribly but because it was WEIRD AS FUCK. like i get it! it's lucifer! he's a sicko! but also - crowley was treated like absolute SHIT despite him being so beloved as a character (also beloved for being so fluid when it came to gender and sexuality!!!!!) so to me personally it just made me angry.

13. Unpopular opinion on Dean.

this took me A WHILE to think about tbh but hmmmm i guess an unpopular opinion would be that dean knew he was bisexual for a LONG time and knew he had feelings for cas (i know these arent unpopular but hold on), but chose to be ready to never say anything for a very long time or even forever. I truly believe he started realizing he had feelings for cas in purgatory but wouldnt EVER tell him unless he was like on his death bed because.......honestly??? i DO think he wouldve been dumb about everything and told himself angels cant feel romantic love, not to sound like jackles LOL. like i GENUINELY believe it's very in-character for dean to be like what?? angels ??? they cant love someone like That. despite HIM loving cas that way, he wouldnt want to spoil their relationship by making things weird. like!!! that's his BEST FRIEND!!! his first TRUE friend !!! of COURSE he wouldnt want to say anything!!!! that's also why i think it makes so much sense for him to have told cas he loved him as he's about to DIE in 8x17. like in his head it's 'well, nothing to lose this way if i say it and dont have to live with the Consequences!' i also think that's what makes dean's reaction to meeting adam and serafina (was that her name??) with jack such a big deal!!!!! because he's looking at an angel choosing to live with a human they fell in love with forever like 👁👄 👁⁉️ so it IS possible?????????????

17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…

ok i think we all would automatically say 15x19-20 should be erased from existence bc we all have the better spn in our heads :) so i wont talk about that. im gonna pick something fun: instead of bobby-john being stolen back by the shifter and never heard from again, i think they should have killed the shifter alpha and kept him !!!!!!!!!!! that baby should have been raised by a community! by two stupid brothers, an angel and their friends that all got too used to killing things without thinking and suddenly have to REALLY think about why they're killing something they automatically deem a 'monster'. the mol arcs were cool (depending on which ones we talk about) BUT i dont like how 'just another day at the office' they turned hunting into. bobby-john deserved a good life, and the boys and cas would have learned A LOT from raising him. i think they all would have benefited and given how we see jack grow up being raised by the three of them, it would have been AMAZING.

22. Popular character you hate?

Uh i literally cant think of like the Popular ones that i genuinely hate??? so im gonna cheat and say a character ive seen people like a lot but i really hate would be.......maggie??? she annoyed me to NO end especially in the beginning. i didnt understand the point of her tbh. no hate at ALL to the actress of course. should be obvious but i feel like i should point that out lol

23. Unpopular character I love?

ok honestly id have to say asmodeus HAHAHAHA i thought he brought camp to his season. i thought the way he tortured gabriel was, yes extremely cruel and nasty but also SOOOOO interesting i wish that was expanded on more. i LOVED that they called him colonel sanders right off the bat. the accent was so unnecessary and so funny. i honestly thought it was so interesting that he sounded like that bc tbh the show NEEDED to poke fun at more characters like this. i wish the white suit was a bit more elaborate tbh. i envisioned him being wayyy more ridiculous - he shouldve had a cowboy hat and a bolo tie and a few more accessories. i wish he was LITERALLY like possessing the body of a tv evangelist or something that would have been SO MUCH FUN.

#gonna make these all smaller font bc goddamn im writing a lot LOL #u asked really good ones erin mwah #also we jUST talked about the crowley thing so im sure youve heard enough about that from me LOLOL #is asmodeus unpopular??? idk no one talks about him so i feel like he probably is LOL #ask game #danneelswife #ough now that im thinking about it it might not be so unpopular for dean to bottle things up BUT im talking like. literally #just CHOOSING to never say anything despite knowing for years yknow??

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allegedlyauser · 3 years

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thoughts on loki episode 4

I’m not usually one to share thoughts on episodes of a show but this last episode was weird to say the least and I feel like I need to talk a bit about the fundamental problems I found with it.

I have a lot of things to say and don’t really know where to start so I’ll just start by saying that I loved the show so far, esspecially the episode before this one. Episode 3 for me really gave us depth in both Loki’s and Sylvie’s characters, I depth I personally didn’t think we were going to get at all. I want to focus esspecially on Loki confirming that he isn’t straight during the episode, which in my opinion was executed exactly the way I wanted. The show doesn’t seem like it’s going to focus on it much further, so I honestly doubt that we will see anything happen on screen between Loki and anyone who isn’t female, but I’m glad they acknowledged it. I feel like most of the time people just ask for sexualities and identities to be acknowledged and to be treated like what they are: a part of the character and who they are. Loki confirming that he had been with ‘a bit of both’ wasn’t weird nor out of place, it was a normal response in a conversation, and I feel like that it’s a perfect example of how to give representation even if the story isn’t necesarilly about love or sexuallity or identity. And since for me this show is about Loki, who he is and who he could become, it was amazing to see that they respected the character and touched all the points they did.

That being said however, I feel like they took several steps back from the steps forward they had taken on episode 3. And what happened on episode 4 and the problems it brings with it go far beyond any ship or headcanon I may or may not have on this show.

Starting with Sylvie, I have to say I wasn’t really feeling her at first. She was a weird combination between Lady Loki and the Enchatress which I didn’t really understand and wasn’t what I wanted when I said I would love for Lady Loki to appear on the show. However, I came to actually respect the character and how it was portrayed. In episode 3 we could see that Sylvie actually was a well rounded character which didn’t fall in a lot of the categories or cliches female characters are usually held upon, esspecially in superhero movies. I didn’t feel like she was strong because she was held to the standards of a man or because she acted like one. She wasn’t there to be pretty, but she also held a glimpse of femininity which wasn’t seen as a flaw. Overall I appreciated that she had a story of her own, and that she is strong while still being a realistic woman, and not one that is either completly unrealistic and seen through the male gaze or a woman who has to act and be like a man to be considered strong. I liked that we actually got to see her have emotions, which sounds weird to say, but its more often than not that women who are considered strong in movies and shows lack emotion and see femininity as something to avoid. Sexy and emotionless is usually the role given to strong women. Don’t get me wrong, there are really well written characters that would technically fall into those categories, but it’s the lack of characters like Sylvie which makes me appreciate the way she is, and that goes from her personallity to the way she’s dressed. And I have to say that in general the females in this show are really appealing to me and I enjoy watching them on screen.

And Sylvie was such an amazing opportunity on the show too, not only as a character but also because of what she represented. She could have started a conversation among the themes in the show regarding how Loki sees himself. Being a gender fluid character I felt like this was such an amazing opportunity to actually see an explicit conversation about it on screen. About how Loki didn’t question having a female counterpart of himself, and what that means to how he viwes himself and his identity. I was excited to see that, esspecially knowing that Sylvie was going to be there to do so so so much more than just helping Loki find himself. It was such a amazing dance that could have been created with the dynamics of these two characters, bringing questions about who the other really is while still being their own characters. I was esspecially excited because representation of the lgbtqi+ community is usually reduced to white young gay men, and when it comes to identity and gender esspeciafically, gender fluidity or non-binary identities are almost never talked about. And on top of all of that, this show involving these two romantically is disrespectful to both characters and makes absolutely no sense.

I gave it much thought yesterday, what it was that I really hated about this relationship being settled. There are so many heterosexual couples in books and movies that are so amazing and well written, and for some reason since the first moment I knew this wasn’t one of them.

I feel like the biggest problem I have with it it's the development of the couple itself. They talked once on episode 2, and it wasn't about themselves really so it isn't like that first conversation added to them falling in love. Then they spend not even a day together and out of nowhere they are in love. If something had happened that really made them bond and trust each other I would kind of buy it I guess, but looking at episode 3 in an objective way, their relationship being now romantic comes out of nowhere. They have a couple of deep conversations sure but them being in love feels so forced. They essentially don't really know the other and haven't lived enough together for them to fall for the other either. It doesn't have any emotional weight to me. They are doing Loki wrong by having him literally fall in love with the first person who slightly understands what it's like to me him. It feels plain, forced, and really out of place, especially with where Loki is at story wise.

I feel like if it was well written and we'll developed, and it happened later in the series (not literally one episode after the female lead appears), then I would have been weirded out but I feel like the character arcs they deserved wouldn't have been so messed up. I don't ship them so it's not like I would be rooting for them, but I wouldn't be as mad for sure. The fact that this forced love story is there affects the character development of both characters, which clearly deserve better.

First with Loki, it's an ongoing theme that has been brought up that he doesn't want to be alone. Having him fall in love, esspecially as quickly as it happened, is just sick. It feels like the way for him to feel whole and okay is by him being with someone else which I feel misses the whole point of the show. Second with Sylvie, it just completely breaks all the praises I gave to the character some moments before. Don't get me wrong, it's perfectly possible to have a female character who is also in a relationship without her being watered down to nothing more to a love interest, but the nature of the relationship here, it being so underdeveloped, breaks what she had build up. Sylvie right now feels to me like a means to an end rather than her own character. That conversation I believe she was going to start for the show, which I talk about earlier, doesn't go both ways anymore. I'm really upset because for me it feels like the second they explained who she was, introducing who she could become, she immediately became the love interest. We haven't even had time to really enjoy the character knowing now who she is.

On top of all of this, I feel like a love story this early in the show is going to take the main focus of the Loki series away. I'm scared the show is going to go from Loki discovering who he is, what he wants and how he feels, to him wanting to go back to Sylvie all the time and him being in love becoming the main focus of his arc. Same with Sylvie, I don't want her character's arc to go from wanting to come to terms with who she represented in existance and with how to live with what happened to her and be happy, to her wanting to go back to Loki all the time too. Love stories like that are amazing too, but not with these characters at this point in the show.

Honestly when the nexus appeared I thought it was because Loki finally had loved himself, which is something we don't see happen at any point in his story (including the Loki in the sacred timeline). It's a sad thought but I believed that what had happened is that after talking to a different version of himself and before dying, he had realized he finally accepted himself and that wasn't supposed to happen. I still hope they go with that rather than the love story, for both the characters and for the plot of the series.

But yeah that's it, it ended up being really long but I hope I was able to explain well what I was trying to say. Hopefully the show continues to treat these characters and their stories well and doesn't make any unnecessary decisions like the one they just did.

#loki #loki episode 4 #loki series #loki episode 3

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wolfywordweaver · 3 years

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Trans Mages Week 2021 DAY 6 - solidarity, pastel/punk

NOTE: this started out with the idea that Baz's dad didn't accept him being gender fluid but has somehow morphed into something a bit more. There's MalMage, a brewing storm, genderfluid vampire Baz, potentially gender confused Simon, biker gangs, magic, fantasy world building, 50s inspired towns, and political intrigue. What a mess. I don't know where I'm going with this, but it's possible that I'll morph this into a full blown thing.

The roar of the motorcycles was a familiar buzz in Simon’s ears, something that usually lulled him into a state of zen. However, this time there was a change in the feel of the roar, and he could catch a different scent on the wind. There was a town up ahead.

It took conscious effort to keep his folded wings from stretching out behind him at the thought of being able to make a stop and maybe even spending a couple of days somewhere. The Mage’s Men had been on the road for a while, slowly making their way to a kingdom out further past the High Mountains.

There had been a few odd jobs here and there to keep them fed and content until they got this big one, and he was hoping that maybe the nearing Watford would have a little something to do. It had been a while since he’d tasted a nice hot scone or something sweeter than a pack of discount sandwich cookies.

Davy threw back a few hand signs and Simon grinned widely. A much needed stop was just what they needed. The rest of the ride into down was a blur, and soon the whole pack was taking a quick tour to gauge the place.

Watford was a lot like most of the little towns hovering outside of capital cities. Coven’s magic signature was over everything, a bond of protection should anything befall the small town. Davy was not a huge fan of Coven, and Simon glanced nervously at the man.

Davy Mage was the leader of their gang, a man with great vision, testicular fortitude, and a willingness to do whatever it took to reach his goals. He’d earned the title of Mage after years of battle with another family, and Simon was quite lucky to have gained the title of Heir.

Whether Davy was his actual biological father or not was up for debate, but Simon tried not to worry himself about things like that. Davy was the closest thing he had to a father, and knowing the truth of the matter wouldn’t change anything. Any curiosity or whisper of discontent was tucked deep down with all the other things he didn’t want to think about.

Right now, the only thing he wanted to think about was finding a nice inn that offered hot breakfast. Freshly cooked food and a soft place to sleep sounded blissful, and he definitely needed a shower. Offing another round of goblins after his head had left him in dire need of getting cleaned up. Even his leathers had gotten messy in that battle.

Thankfully, the Mage didn’t change his mind and direct them out of town. They rode through the town square, taking in the views of shops and concerned looking citizens. It was normal to have people frightened of them until their intentions were made known.

There were a lot of wandering gangs that were carrying out missions from the larger kingdoms, and most towns never knew if they were on a hit list or not. If these guys were under the protection of Coven, they might be less than friendly for the duration of their stay, but Simon didn’t care. It’s not like he planned on settling here or anything.

Just a bit of food and rest was all he needed to be ready to move on.

The whole gang pulled up to a modest looking inn, and then the engines were shut off. Groaning in relief, Simon swung his leg back over and off his bike before allowing his blood-red wings and tail to stretch out. Premal jumped back in annoyance so that he didn’t get knocked off his feet, but Simon couldn’t be bothered to care.

Everyone knew that they needed to keep their distance.

“Simon,” the Mage barked as he pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair, “get up there and scope things out.”

“Yes, sir!”

Flying was one of the only things better than riding down the open road, Simon thought as he felt the wind whipping around his body. The large wings at his back beat loudly, working to bring him up high enough to skim his hands along the underside of a few stray clouds.

Whooping loudly, Simon dipped and rolled through the wind as he examined the area around Watford. There didn’t seem to be any signs of danger and the Kingdom of Coven's capitol was far away enough that they would probably keep their nose out of the Mage’s business unless a fight broke out.

He was surprised to see a rather large school for such a small town, but shrugged it off and made his way back down to the Mage.

“Looks clear,” he panted upon landing.

The Mage nodded and thoughtfully stroked his neat thin mustache. “Good, good. No signs of the Coven moving?”

“Nope.” Those green eyes narrowed in annoyance and Simon quickly corrected himself. “Uh, no, sir.”

“Perfect.”

All of the Men waited outside while Davy and Simon went in to negotiate a stay. Things almost always tended to work better in Davy’s favor when he had Simon hanging around.

Blue eyes took in the modest décor of the place and noted that there was a lot of school memorabilia. These people were awfully proud of their school. The goat on the coat of arms was kind of silly, he thought. Once the negotiations were through, Simon was put in a room with two other Men and they all unpacked their few belongings.

Simon enjoyed a hot shower and washed off the reminders of the past few weeks. He still had a healing wound from a sword to his side a couple of weeks ago, but there was already a scaly patch over it helping it heal.

The scales would fall off after it was completely repaired, another strange bit of the magic that always seemed to be around him.

Once he was washed clean and in fresh clothes, Simon got the Mage to magically hide his wings away so that he could better explore the shops. There had been too many mishaps with his wings and broken goods and the Mage didn’t want to pay for anymore so he would begrudgingly oblige.

With all that finished, Simon strode out on the town in his cleanest pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with his leather jacket over it. Premal had cleaned his leather’s already, a kind gesture considering that Simon had been too scared to try again after catching his first pair of leathers on fire with his attempt to clean them.

Everything about Watford felt clean and quaint. There were perfect rows of homes, perfectly manicured and maintained gardens and yards, and rows of tidy shops he could explore. There weren’t really any children to be seen, and Simon realized that they were all probably still in school.

That thought made him a little sad. He’d never been to school. For the first half of his life he had actually been feral, a wild beast of a thing whose only thought was keeping itself alive. Then the Mage found him and took him in, teaching him the ways of people.

The magic that ran hotly through his blood belonged to the world of people, but the wings and tail were something else entirely. He’d heard the whispers of “dragon” often enough to wonder if that was his origin, but it had been too long since people had even seen dragons much less conversed with them. No one knew anything of dragon children.

Walking through the bookstore, Simon allowed his fingers to drag over the spines of the books, enjoying the different textures and designs. The shop keeper’s eyes were firmly planted on him, but the man said nothing. None of the adults did.

Maybe it was his tail, visibly swaying behind him. It hadn’t ever been as much of a nuisance as his wings, but it was still odd enough to put most people off. It made it hard to even get a date these days, but he still didn’t like hiding away these parts of him, especially for something as fleeting as a one-night stand.

“When does the school let out?” Simon asked with what he hoped was a casual tone.

The man blinked at him in surprise. “Three o’clock for the young’uns,” he replied with a gruff voice. “And 4:40pm for the graduates. Same as all the other schools.”

“Ah.” The man was looking at him even more curiously and Simon found himself leaving the store rather quickly afterwards.

A café called Pritchard’s caught his attention, and soon Simon was happily tucked in a corner scarfing down a pile of steaming hot scones. He’d never had sour cherry ones before, but was beginning to think that he had a new favorite now.

The bell over the door rang, and Simon peeked over the high-backed booth to see a small group of students come in chattering.

“Uncle Pritchard, is it true?” a beautiful person asked. She was taller than everyone else and had quite a striking figure.

Pitch black hair was neatly wrapped in a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a lovely silk blouse with wildflowers on it tucked into a sensible black pencil skirt and very shiny shoes. Simon always liked shiny shoes.

He also quickly noticed her pointed ears and the fangs peeking out over her lovely lower lip. A vampire? In this little place? The fact that no one was staking her meant that she was probably a pet or something, so he settled himself down and observed as quietly as possible.

“Kids, you shouldn’t be out-” the man tried before he was interrupted.

“They let us out early,” another young lady stated with the authority of a warlord. “Are there really mercenaries in town?”

He rather liked this one’s wild hair. It was tied back with a thinning ribbon and Simon wondered if the poor thing would give out and set loose the mane of curls.

“Now, now-”

“A gang in town!” Someone else squealed excitedly. “I can’t believe it! Nothing this exciting has ever happened before!”

“Our town had a showdown of Mages barely fifteen years ago,” the first girl snapped in annoyance.

“Yeah, but we were like babies,” someone else added.

“Kids,” the café owner tried again, his eyes nervously shifting towards Simon.

“Do you think they’re here to challenge Mr. Grimm?” the second girl asked with a grave tone. “He won’t go down without a fight.”

The first girl looked almost ill at the thought and the man quickly reached out and took her elbow. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. No one’s challenging anyone. They’re just passing through.”

Simon stuffed the last scone into his mouth and continued to enjoy watching the others hovering around the cash register. There was something quite refreshing about seeing other people his age who were so clueless to things like how gangs operated. Sure, there were a few roving bands of bonety hunters who would ride into places and raze them without provocation, but those were usually taken out by gangs like the Mage’s Men.

It was bad for business all around to have groups destroying villages and cities, so kingdoms wouldn’t put up with behavior like that. Even as a roaming gang with no kingdom loyalty, the Mage’s Men knew better than to get the ire of an entire kingdom pointed in their direction.

“Uncle, are they-”

“Really now, kids,” the man interrupted exasperatedly. “Do you want to order something or not?”

They all looked taken aback by his response and Simon grinned. The man obviously didn’t want them saying anything to offend him while he was sitting right there. It meant that he was scared too. Simon wasn’t easily offended, and really couldn’t care less about what some small-town gruffs thought about him or his family.

Deciding to take pity on the man and give them all a chance to gossip in peace, Simon stood up, his boots hitting the tile loudly. Everyone at the front of the building jumped in shock and Simon kept his most confident smile in place as he stared at them all.

“The food was good, mate,” he addressed the older gentleman and tossed a few bills on the table.

His eyes moved towards the group of young adults and found that tall girl. Her legs were even more stunning now that he could get a good look. With a brazen wink in her direction he strode right up to the front door and decided to head back to the rest of his group.

He hadn’t got more than a few meters from the café before the bell was ringing and there were marching footsteps behind me.

“Pardon me, you brute,” a voice demanded, “but you owe me an apology!”

Turning back in amusement, Simon glanced up into those indignant silver eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she snapped back.

“What for? Don’t like a compliment?”

A blush burned on her grey cheeks, but she stood her ground.

“Th-that wasn’t a compliment!” she protested. “That was rude! I am not a piece of meat to be gawked at!”

Blue eyes roamed over her more carefully this time and noted the more distinguished larynx and the deeper pitch of voice. “It’s not gawking, doll. Just admiring.”

The sputtering person seemed completely thrown off, caught somewhere between being even more offended and slightly flattered.

“It’s rude to stare!” the vampire shot back, seemingly not understanding why Simon wasn’t apologizing or backing down.

“People stare at me all the time,” Simon replied honestly. “I don’t waste my energy on caring whether they’re being rude or not.”

Those grey eyes looked completely baffled for a moment before the motion of Simon’s tail caught their attention. Eyebrows shot up and that lovely mouth gaped for a moment, allowing a better view of those darling fangs. It was nice to get to admire such things when they weren’t gnashing at you.

“Oh, you’re a...”

Simon shrugged. “They don’t have a name for my type, doll. Are you someone’s pet?”

“P-pet?! Not at all! My father is the mayor of this town!”

“Ah.” Simon gestured towards his ears. “Don’t really see a lot of you out and integrated into the towns. Makes sense with your dad, though.” The vampire self-consciously touched at their ear and Simon stepped forward carefully. “I don’t mean it it in a bad way, doll.”

“I’m...” The vampire coughed to clear their voice and shook their head. “My name is Baz. Please call me that. And it’s they/them.”

Simon jutted out his hand in greeting. “Simon. Good to meet you.”

“He/him?” Baz asked carefully as they took his hand.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Davy had called him a boy from the moment he captured Simon, and the young man had never given it a second thought.

“A pleasure, Simon,” Baz greeted politely.

Warmth filled his body and Simon enjoyed the feel of that hand in his. Baz had oddly rough hands for someone as posh as they were, but they also had a smokey smell to them that made Simon feel comfortable and almost...safe.

Not one to ever let an opportunity pass by, Simon stepped even closer and put on his most charming grin. “Say, Baz, wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” The vampire seemed to choke on their breath, but Simon pushed forward. “I’d like to get to know you.”

He wasn’t certain if this place had certain courting rules, but he was sure that the Mage could get him out of any jam he walked into. The man knew how much he liked holding hands and getting close to other people. He’d tried something serious with a previous Mage’s Man but it hadn’t gone over well and the guy his head smashed in by a Numpty as Davy’s warning to the others to keep their hands off of Simon.

Simon was an Heir and weapon first and foremost, and having people fuck with his emotions was a no-go. So, Simon was limited to random dates and one-night stands any chance he could get.

“Uh, I...” Baz swallowed thickly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Can you come out for lunch?”

Baz nodded and Simon felt a happy warmth fill his body. “Alright. Here at noon, yeah?”

“Okay,” Baz responded shyly. There was a definitely blush burning on their cheeks.

Simon squeezed Baz’s hands and then quickly made his way back to the rest of the gang.

*****

The café owner glanced nervously between the two young people as he set the strawberry milkshake between them, but Simon ignored him and focused completely on Baz. The Mage had struggled to hide the wings away that morning because Simon’s magic was buzzing excitedly, but they were thankfully still tucked away.

While Simon was dressed the same as the previous day, he took the time to admire Baz’s outfit. They looked so polished and put together with their tan slacks, shiny belt, green polo shirt, and a fuzzy sweater neatly hung over their shoulders and loosely tied around their collarbones.

“How long have you been a vampire?” Simon asked dreamily as he leaned forward and rested his chin in one hand. Baz really was quite pretty.

“Since I was five,” they replied softly, a hand automatically coming up to cover the fangs.

“Don’t cover them,” Simon stated softly. “I like seeing them.”

“Oh,” Baz replied with a slight squeak before they leaned forward and drank down a bit of the shake.

There were two straws in the glass and Simon felt his body throbbing with happy energy. Everything about this place was sweet and delightful!

“I think you’re pretty,” Simon added, falling back on his tried and true brashness. He enjoyed seeing the blush light up on those cheeks. “Beautiful really.”

“You’re quite outspoken,” Baz retorted, but the smile remained on his lips. “And a flatterer.”

“I like to speak the truth,” Simon replied honestly. “And if I like you, I don’t see the point in not saying so.”

“Don’t you like to get to know someone first?” Baz asked curiously.

“I’m getting to know you now,” came the laughing response. “What’s your favorite scone?”

And with that, the two of them carried on an easy conversation. The strawberry shake dwindled down between them, and when Simon slid his hand across the table to drag his finger against the back of Baz’s hand, the vampire didn’t pull back. Their fingers hooked together as they talked, and both left lunch with dreamy looks on their faces.

As Simon meandered back to the inn, Davy Mage stood in a hall quite familiar to him and stared at a large portrait. The woman painted in it stared down at him severely, and he couldn’t keep the curl of distaste off his lips.

“What are you doing here, David?” a tired voice asked.

Davy looked over to see Malcolm Grimm, his all-white hair a shock from the memories he had of the man.

“You look old,” he sneered angrily.

Malcolm didn’t rise to the bait. He just stood next to the younger man and stared at the portrait. “Grief ages you, David.” The men stood next to each other quietly, each reminiscing over times gone by. “What are you doing here?”

The truth was dangerous, so Davy danced around it. “Passing through to another job. A Mage’s work is never done.”

Most Mages through history had settled into a town and worked from there, but Malcolm didn’t want to point out the obvious.

“Are you happy?” he asked, a heaviness in his words that had been there for so many years.

“What do you care?” Davy snapped, the irritation bubbling up.

“I’ve always cared.”

“Fuck you!” Davy growled as he wheeled on the taller man and shoved him. “Fuck you!”

The hurt was heavy in the air and Malcolm stared at the white-knuckled fists clenching his lapels. He’d seen that same grip so many times already and it opened up the wounds of his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that nothing would make it better.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Davy replied after a few moments, a crack of emotion breaking through the words. “And I won’t ask again.”

“I know.”

Davy stepped back and released the creased material of the suit. He ran a hand through his neatly trimmed hair, a bronze brown that had once hung loose and carelessly over his forehead.

“I’ll be at the same place,” Davy added quietly, almost in defeat. “You’ll know where to find me.”

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doodle-empress66 · 3 years

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Perma Frost Full Bio

General

“It’s BULLSHIT that I’m down here! Stuck in this ugly ass form! I did the shit I did to SURVIVE! No one has ever watched out for me! So I watched out for myself the best way I knew how!”

- Perma Frost to Charlie

Full/True name: Petra

Nickname(s) or Alias:

Perma Frost, Perma

Perm

The Killer Frost Demon

Kid (By Husk)

Ice Queen (By Angel)

Little Girlie (Niffty)

Young Miss (By Alastor)

Bruja de hielo (By Vaggie)

Gender: Female

Species: Human (formerly), Ice Demon

Age: 14

Birthday: Jan 6th

Sexuality: Autochorisexual-Aegoromantic

Nationality: Icelandic

City or town of birth: Vik, Iceland

Currently lives: The Outskirts of Pentagram City

Native language: Icelandic

Relationship Status: Single

Appearance

Height: 5'5

Figure/build: Slender, somewhat curvy build, with long, dark blue icicle-like fingers. Powder blue skin

Hair color: Light Blue (Normally), Transparent light blue (when angered or frightened)

Hairstyle: Long and unruly

Eye color: A glowing icy blue hue that shifts

Tattoos: A snowflake on her back

Preferred style of clothing: ALWAYS wearing a large hooded jacket/coat that covers the entire top half of her body. Large black snow boats. And navy blue tights

General Past life

Human Name: Petra (She renounced her last name)

Birthday: 6th Jan 2005

Age of Death: 14

Cause of Death: Froze to death/Blood loss

Death day: 23 Aug 2019

Personality

Perma is an intense, cautious, volatile, and resentful teenager. She’ll do whatever it takes just to make it through the day regardless of who she has to harm or fight. She loathes adults and doesn’t trust them or their judgement, and always believes they're going to hurt her. Nor does she like being told what to do. So she often gets into a lot of fights with older demons, Perma will at times rush head first into a fight without thinking things through due to being blinded by her violent nature and past trauma. She has little to no friends or acquaintances because of the sheer brute force of her powers, somewhat lack of control and unwillingness to listen to people. Despite being unapproachable most of the time, deep down Perma wants a kind soul to turn to for love and guidance. But, pushes away this feeling due to the bad hand life and death has handed her.

History

Born in Vik, Iceland in 2005, since she could walk; Petra knew nothing but misery and neglect. Abused and mistreated by her egg and sperm donor, growing up in a strange cult certainly didn't help little Petra. Forced to deal with going hungry and cold from the old shredded clothes she was forced to wear. As well as participating in her mother's questionable practices. Her family often took part in the ancient art of Icelandic witchcraft. Writing questionable symbols everywhere in the blood of animals they caught. Reading from old books with disturbing otherworldly images. Even carving up their own bodies as a sign of devotion to some strange dark entity. Petra didn't understand these events but knew only bad things could come from it.

Life didn’t get much better for the young Icelandic when she was set up to be a sacrifice in one of the cult's shamanic ceremonies, she managed to slip away and ran until she arrived at an old rundown village. Only 9 years old at the time. From there, the next 4 years were awful. Petra had to survive on scraps she found in the trash or steal food and clothing from unsuspecting villagers. Years on the street, being treated like dirt from those around her, a child no one wanted around, caused Petra to grow hateful to world and the vile people who inhabited it. No one had any concern for her. No one cared about her. Her life meant nothing to ANYBODY. So after that, the lives of others didn’t mean a damn thing to her.

At 11, Petra committed her first murder. She was low on scraps and slowly starving. Following a frail elderly woman with a bag full of food, Petra took out an ice pick she had swiped from some workers and drove it into the back of the woman’s head.

Soon after, the dreaded streets Petra wandered were now becoming littered with the bodies of the people she stole from. Little did she realize, these malicious acts were changing in ways that were beyond human understanding. Something malevolent and cold started growing inside her body. Warping her soul.

Two years, this continued...until Petra chose the wrong target. A lanky young man, who looked a few years older than her, was smoking in an alley. Driven by survival, bloodlust and greed to what type of goods the man had on his person, Petra struck with her signature ice pick. Too bad, the man wasn’t unarmed. Nor was he alone. That’s all she remembered from that specific day. And how she wished she just kept walking.

The man was part of a group of sex traffickers looking around for young girls and women to add to their market. And 14 year old Petra was added to that collection.

The following year was a new level of Hell for the young girl. Beaten, abused, used in the most vile of ways by these men and others. Petra resisted at each turn but the suffering increased more and more. Then the vile concoction, meth they called it, they forced her to take each day. Told her that it would make her more “enjoyable company”. Some days and nights blurred into each other. This...drug made her forget the pain, the misery, the horrid existence she was subjected to. But reality came back full throttle to punch her in the face once it wore off. It made Petra feel disgusting and free at the same time. Just like the girls around her, empty shells with blissful smiles on their faces.

She was right at the edge of just ending it, but the stubborn part of her refuse to give her tormentors the satisfaction. One night, while she was getting prepared for a client, Petra managed to break away and shank one of the guards with an icicle she snatched from outside of a window. That kill was easy, but the second guard managed to let out a shout before Petra rammed the spike into his eye.

Petra rushed out into the winter forest, away from the building she was held captive. Wearing nothing but a pair of booty shorts and a flimsy tank top and armed with a bloody icicle. The traffickers hot on her trail with guns and rope. Each day of hiding, running, and avoiding bullets was made worse with trying to fight the freezing cold. One bullet managed to pierce her side. On that night, Petra finally found a small cave to duck into, her feet and hands black and swollen. She was practically a light blue.

Using the last of her strength to make a small, pitiful fire, Petra packed her bullet wound with snow as a sad attempt to stop the bleeding. She leaned against the cave wall and closed her eyes. Thinking back to all the events that transpired that lead her to this. The memories slowly getting darker and darker...

She woke up abruptly from crashing down onto the ground. The teen shot up, disoriented and looked around. Her eyes fell onto a large sign reading, “Welcome to Hell.”

Sins committed to get into hell: Theft, Murder, Assault, Manslaughter, Prostitution (Not her choice)

Any regrets in what they have done: No...depends

Likes:

Doing whatever she wants

Warm food

Parkour

Heavy metal music

Necessary Violence

Beating up adults

Animals

Children

Being left alone

Dislikes:

Adults

Being touched

Limited freedom

Being told what to do

Guns

Silence

Drugs

Anything sex related

Short clothing

Frozen Food

Fears/phobias:

Men touching her/being near her

Being tied up

The sight of her own blood

Dark rooms

Cults

Sexual acts of any kind

Being drugged

Favorite color:

White

Hobbies:

Ice/snow surfing

Brawling/Street Fighting

Reading scary stories

Parkouring

Stealing

Talents/skills:

Great at the drums

Ice skating (lol)

Parkouring

Intimidation

Fighting

Very Observant/ Quick Learner

Favorite food(s):

Skyr (Yougurt)

Harðfiskur (dried fish)

Reykjavik's Hot Dog

Favorite drink(s):

Slushies

Pineapple Soda

Hot Chocolate

Significant/special belongings:

Her icepick

Spiked choker

Combat

Fighting skills/techniques:

Very good street fighter/brawler

Excellent stabbing and hacking skills

Weapon of choice (if any):

Ice Pick

Unique Abilities:

Cold Magic- is able to perform a form of magic that allows them to utilize cold, either magically manipulating it

Cryokinesis- can create, shape, move, control, interact and manipulate ice.

Cold manipulation- can create, shape and manipulate cold by reducing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things colder

Atmospheric Freezing- an freeze the air/atmosphere itself regardless of air quality, abundant and trace gases, air temperature, etc., allowing her to either convert that air/atmosphere directly to ice or simply super chill it.

Absolute Freezing- can freeze anything, from tangible targets to intangible energy such as fire, or concepts such as time, even a person's mind.

Cold Embodiment- acts as the personification or manifestation of cold in their reality and has limitless control over coldness and can use coldness in different ways.

Cold Breath- able to generate and manipulate cold energy within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect.

Cold Presence- has the ability to project a field that lowers the temperature around her, creating a constant chill.

Cold Weaponry- create or wield weaponry with power over cold, which grants Perma a wide variety of cold-based abilities, including slowing down molecules, freezing a target solid, and limiting healing.

Cryo-Phasing- combines intangibility and ice powers to freeze the objects she passes through.

Cryogenic Bodily Fluids- possesses freezing cold bodily fluids (blood, sweat, saliva, etc.

Cryokinetic Creature Creation- is able to create beings of ice or shape existing ice into wanted shapes and purposes. She can grant the beings varying levels of independence (controlled, automatons/programmed, semi-independent) and existence (momentary to permanent) and delete the creature once she is done with them.

Cryokinetic Claws- can project and retract razor-sharp claws of ice from her fingertips for offensive purposes.

Cryokinetic Combat- able to utilize ice manipulation with her physical combat, allowing her to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for her advantage

Cryokinetic Cloning- can create clones of herself, others and/or objects by using ice.

Cryokinetic Surfing- controls the ice in a way that increases her ability to move and/or maneuver either by granting her abilities she otherwise lack or allowing them to ignore normally needed equipment.

Cryokinetic Regeneration- can use ice to regenerate her bodies with the amount of ice used defining the speed of healing.

Demonic Ice Manipulation- One of her most powerful attacks. She can generate and manipulate mystical demonic ice, which cannot be melted by mortal means, drawn straight from the darkest fears sentient minds have about winter, ice and arctic areas, including the fears of treacherous ice breaking, burying/devouring, damaging or tripping the victim in malicious awareness.

Demonic Ice Breath - able to generate and manipulate demonic ice within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect. These shapes can include bursts, streams, spheres, even a mist of it from the mouth.

Dark Ice Manipulation - More powerful attack. She can create, shape and manipulate the ice of a darker, detrimental nature; that which damages, destroys, and consumes anything/everything she comes across, representing the hazardous destructive side of ice, which in turn ignores most of the limitations and weaknesses of the normal ice. In essence, this is about solely controlling the negative dark powers of ice.

Frostbite- can freeze up any part of an enemy's body where she can turn the tissues and flesh into solid ice making the victim shatter into pieces due to freeze drying, or cause a swelling making it hard to move for the victim.

Frozen Surface- can cause surfaces (often floor) to emit ice/cold, causing ice/cold-damage on anything in contact with her or the ice.

Hail Generation- can generate and project hail.

Ice Aura- can release and surround herself in/with ice/cold for defensive and/or offensive purposes, possibly becoming almost untouchable and granting her various abilities/attacks.

Ice Vortex Creation - can generate spirals/vortices composed of ice. The vortex can be projected as a long ranged attack or as a tornado of ice for both offensive and/or defensive purposes.

Omnidirectional Ice Waves- can release massive amounts of ice in every direction at once for almost unlimited scales. This power allows Perma to dispatch many foes at once and destroy large areas like cities/villages.

Snow Ball Projection- able to launch spheres of snow at targets with varying degrees of force.

Snow Solidification- can solidify or give solid-like properties to snow-based substances with the level of solidity going from loose jelly to metal-like hardness or beyond. Alternatively, Perma can also harden snow to make it denser and harder to break.

Un-melt able Ice- can generate and project snow/ice that is extremely difficult to or cannot by melted by normal means, such as extreme heat or fire.

Weaknesses in combat:

Intense heat/fire

No control when pushed too far

Turns to solid ice when she goes overboard

Due to her constant chill, she can’t sneak up on people

Strengths in combat:

Wide and short range attacks

Nearly indestructible ice walls

Hidden demon form

Wild unpredictable street fighting style

Can create ice creatures, structures, and weapons

Relationships

Past life Relationships

Parents: Unknown

Siblings: None

Other Important Relatives: None

Children: None

Best Friend: None yet

Other Important Friends: None yet

Acquaintances: None yet

Pets: None but wants one

Enemies:

Anyone who tries to mess with her.

Alastor (Frenemy-ish)

Hazbin Relationships:

Charlie- Put off by her eagerness and determination to redeem sinners. Didn’t trust her at first and kept her distance. Slowly warmed up to Charlie’s kindness and learned to trust her and others.

Vaggie- Disliked her attitude, and authority. Would tick her off with snide comments and constantly freezing her and/or Charlie. Started to bond over their dislike of Alastor and men a bit. Told Vaggie of her life and hardships, now have a big sis/little sis connection.

Angel Dust- Because of his sexual nature, she was terrified of Angel and avoided him. Even freezing him solid a few times out of fear/self-defense. Calm down a little once, she learned that he’s gay. The two became close once Angel shared his own stories of abuse. Also adores Fat Nuggets.

Alastor- Instantly loathes Alastor due to his disregard for personal space and creeper smile. Sees him as a closet pervert and often talks trash about his radio broadcasts and calls him an "a limp dick old man". Perma was unaware of Alastor's reputation, but sees him as a sicko who likes to inflate his own ego and harrass those he sees as beneath him. One of the few demons who doesn't fear Alastor, but that's due to her own ignorance and inexperience. Often tries to start fights with him by crude derogatory comments. Or freezing him.

Husker- Didn't think much of Husk at first, but liked the fact the he's a cat. The two barely interacted until she sang to herself in German and Husk responded back. They slowly began to converse with each other more and more. Husk actually listening to her woes and offering some advice. Vice versa. Due to Husk keeping to himself and respecting boundaries, Perma respects and listens to Husk more than anyone. Calms down whenever he's around. The two soon form a father/daughter like relationship.

Niffty- Was put off by Niffty's persnickety and energetic persona. Also irritated her by the frost she leaves behind. But they grow to tolerate each other over time.

Trivia

Sin - Wrath

Can speak 5 languages: Icelandic, German, Polish, English, and Dutch. This is due to the men she came in contact with during her time on the streets and while trafficked

The spiked choker she wears was a gift from one of the older trafficked girls. It was the first time she was given ANYTHING nice.

Speaks with a thick Icelandic accent

Her lips are dark blue from her cold

Given her sexual abuse, Perma doesn’t just hate sex, she’s TERRIFIED of it.

Perma keeps to herself and talks to no one unless confronted.

She knows nothing about the Overlords or power scale.

She keeps her distance from friendly people. To her, everyone is out to get something.

Perma loves heavy metal, it helps her release the pain and fury she feels

With enough patience and practice, Perma could fight on par with an overlord

She likes animals, they never harm you

She eats warm food, to feel ‘alive’.

One negative act towards her, no matter how small, can set her off

#hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #perma frost #my oc #bio page

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aelia-likes-monsters · 4 years

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Monster Match #7 - @xtheomniverse

I have a wide variety of interests. I tend to hop from one thing to the next. Anything from witchcraft to astrophysics to mythology to history to learning (basic) new languages and beyond. I take open courses almost like a hobby. The only thing that’s been consistent is my love of reading (but even then I have a nasty habit of not finishing books before moving on to a different one). I, like most people, am fairly introverted and awkward. Though once I’m comfortable (that can take a while though) I’m energetic and funny -or a least I think I am. When it comes to what I want in a partner(s): a sense of humor would be great. That can be varied too, I find almost anything funny so the humor can be dry, sarcastic, goofy, dark, etc. Someone who would patiently listen to me info dump about my interest of the week. Other than that I don’t really have an ideal and I get on with most personality types. I’m interested in all genders (men, women, enby, etc) though I do tend to have a preference for men. I’m gender fluid (AFAB). As for what kind of monsters, surprise me! Thank you!

You’ve been matched with a Werewolf & a Naga. Werewolves are known for their humor, energy, and ability to cuddle. Naga, meanwhile, tend to be fairly studious, appreciating the climate control found within modern libraries. That doesn’t mean they’re boring; quite the opposite, actually. A naga is likely to be able to keep up with you where others can’t.

“I’m not really into the whole monogamy thing if that’s alright?” You tell Asher the Naga when he first asks you on a date.

You’re pleased to note that his grin widens.

He’s a handsome naga, his skin mottled in a rich gold-and-brown pattern that matches his tail; he’s from a boa constrictor line, you think. He usually wears soft, drapey clothes and bright gold accessories, and today’s no different. He’s told you before that he works for a clothing design company, so it makes sense that he’s always pushing the edge of men’s clothing. In fact, it was his clothing which first caught your attention; it’s always beautiful and trendy, but it looks comfortable, and the fabrics seem so soft that you just want to nestle into them. You wonder if he’d like cuddling.

“That is quite excellent. It’s not really my thing, either.” He smiles. “I don’t currently have any other partners though.”

“Oh, me, either.” You shrug.

“Not you and Colton?” He asks, his eyebrows shooting up. You know Asher’s seen the way Colton flirts with you, but you hadn’t realized he’d read the situation that way.

Colton is the werewolf who works at your regular coffee shop, and he flirts outrageously with you. He’s got dimples, broad shoulders, and a great ass. Not that you uh… look too much, but a person can’t help but notice things like that sometimes. You like Colton a lot, with his boy-next-door good looks, and the way he teases you without ever taking things too far.

“No, not me and Colton.” You realize you sound disappointed, and you jerk your attention back to Asher. “But it’s um… we’re not talking about that. I’m glad you finally asked me on a date. I’d been trying to convince myself to just ask you for a while now.”

“It’s alright. I get it. Colton’s delightful.” He smiles, showing a flash of fang. You love it. He’s sweet, charming, educated, and still has that edge of danger that you really like. “But so are you.”

He lifts your hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss there. You blush brightly, and he seems thrilled by it.

Since you first met Asher at the library a few months ago, he’s spent quite a bit of time teasing you and making you blush. You’ve circled around each other for a while, especially since you’ve found that he has similar study habits as you; picking up and throwing himself at new interests all the time. He’s maintained his focus on you, though, making a point of sharing tables with you, suggesting books, and even once or twice loaning you books out of his personal collection when they were things the library didn’t have available.

“You should ask the silly werewolf on a date,” Asher suggests. “Since he hasn’t gotten his act together. Consider this a tip from someone with some insider knowledge.”

You’re about to ask for more information when his phone chimes.

“Ah, I need to get going. I’m so sorry to rush away, but this is important. I’ll call you later?” He looks genuinely remorseful, so it takes the sting out of him leaving abruptly.

“I look forward to it.” You say as he grabs his bag and slithers away.

Asher’s words haunt you for the next several hours as you try to keep reading. Ask the silly werewolf on a date? But what if he says no? You don’t want to make things weird. You don’t want to find a new coffee shop. But… the two of them seemed to know each other, and that has to mean something, right? Maybe you’ll feel it out. You decide to stop by the cafe for a cookie on the way home.

Colton’s still working, and as you come in the door you take a moment to appreciate the view. He really is gorgeous, and you wonder if there was something to what Asher was hinting at earlier.

Nothing ventured nothing gained, right?

“Oh! You’re here!” Colton says, his face lighting up with a grin as you approach the counter. His dark brown eyes flash with the hint of gold that Weres often exhibit when excited. If it were closer to the full moon, you think he’d have a tail and it might be wagging. “What can I get you today?”

It’s his clear excitement at seeing you that makes you bold enough to actually speak. To use the pickup line that he’s just set you up for.

“Your number…” you say. And then immediately regret it. You want to disappear as soon as the words are out of your mouth. Did you really just… you did. And… oh no. “Oh, gods that was so awful.”

“Yeah, it was,” Colton says with a laugh. “But I’ve been trying to figure out if you were interested for a while now. You just answered that”

Colton fishes his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before passing it to you. “Put your info in there and then send yourself a text from me.”

“Seriously?” You say. “Even after…” you gesture vaguely “that horrible pickup line?”

“Even after that.” He glances around but there aren’t any other customers waiting for help. “So… I have to ask though. Are you and Asher dating?”

“As of today, yeah?” You smile. “He’s the one who encouraged me to finally ask you though.”

“Dammit,” Colton says, but he doesn’t seem upset. “Yeah, I asked him about you a while ago, back when you first started coming into the shop with him. I didn’t expect him to get the drop on me though.”

“So you’re good with me dating both of you?” You clarify, just to put it in words.

“Yeah,” Colton says. “I’m good with you dating both of us, or to put it another way, I’m open to open relationships. We can figure out exactly where our boundaries are after I get off work in half an hour if you want?”

You take a moment to think about it. You’ve got your laptop with you in your bag, and you could kill time here while you wait for him. And you did want that cookie.

“Okay, sure.” You answer. “I can hang out until you’re done. Can I get a chocolate chip cookie though?”

“Absolutely.”

If you spend the next half hour thinking about how absurdly lucky today has been instead of doing anything productive, nobody could blame you. After all, you now have not one, but two dates with gorgeous inhuman men.

It couldn’t get much better than that.

This was a “Monster Match.” ♥ If you want your own, check out my Ko-Fi Commissions or my regular Commissions page for details. You can find all my writing on my Masterlist.

Love what I do? Tip me with a Ko-Fi, and/or back me on Patreon. I also truly appreciate reblogs, likes, and comments. They keep me going. ♥

#exophilia #monster match #naga boyfriend #werewolf boyfriend #polyamorous monsters #reader inert #enby reader #reader/werewolf #reader/naga #monster lover #my writing

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corinthbayrpg · 3 years

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NAME. Eurydice Kouris AGE & BIRTH DATE. 3000+ & May 29th, Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her SPECIES. Dryad OCCUPATION. Jewellery Maker on Agia Paraskevi Street FACE CLAIM. Sofia Carson

BIOGRAPHY

Before the mortals came, the morning breeze felt like a breath over her stiff branches and then it’s a slow but pleasant process that started at the tiniest twig and ended at her roots. Outstretched branches become hands and smooth down to strong but slender arms. Her dark hair brushes her back, bark gives way to skin that’s been sunkissed for centuries. Eyes closed, her face is the picture of serenity as she stretches, hands outstretched towards the sun as if she’s praising it, and then in a fluid motion, she’s sat on her knees in the dirt, fingers combing through her ever unruly hair, braiding a few sections here and there.

She is of the Earth and yet they forget she was forged from blood and despite all her grace, she is a wild thing and she wants it known. Part of the forest long before mortals lopped it down for their cities, she lives among those like her. It was so different before them, the mortals. The Dryads were powerful protectors of the earth long before Eos tasked the phoenixes with such a thing, their skills matching the Titans among them. She is called Acacia, ‘thorny tree’ and it is fitting. They were free and she remembers how it felt to move through the forests at peace, hear it’s whispers, hear the sounds of her kind and relish in their bond to the world around them.

That was until Cronus swallowed his children.

Rhea’s cleverness saved Zeus and then came the Olympians and she could feel it in the air, the winds of change. The Dryads showed fondness for these children of the Titans they’d shared the earth with for so long, became their teachers in the ways of the land and magic.

But Acacia could feel it all the way down to her roots, that something else was coming.

And so she was not so surprised when Zeus and his siblings waged war against what felt like the whole world.

They were all caught in the crossfire of Olympian and Titan, and when it was over and the Titans lost and as their power weakened, so did that of the Dryads and she grew frustrated. Was this some sort of punishment for their neutrality?

It was something to ponder on as the world changed. She would sit upon the earth, sometimes she places flowers in her hair as the flora around her whispers the morning’s secrets and she listens intently, nods when appropriate. The Titans are imprisoned but Oceanus is free, as is Helios and she watches him set the sun in the sky and she feels like she’s waiting. For what, she’s not sure, but she feels as if she is simmering, brimming with untapped potential, like she’s waiting for an opportunity.

The Titans are imprisoned in Tartarus but their goddesses are not, for the most part and news reaches that Leto has borne a child of Zeus. But not just a child, her womb was occupied by twins and Hera could not have that. It was the most gossip they’d ever received and even the plants seemed to wait with baited breath. And then the news broke that on the island of Delos, Artemis and Apollo were born.

But the Dryads had problems to worry about that dwarfed their celebrations for the new godlings. Man had been created and the mortals found their way into the forests and she would rather fend off hundreds of satyrs than deal with one of them. At first they are thoughtful, live among the gods, but still she and her siblings hide at the mere sight. It’s infuriating and there is a certain thrill to letting them see her.

She is beautiful to them and there’s something in seeing their awe of her. Among the rest of the forest, she considers herself plain. Acacia is a tree of thorns, she is wild and brambly, she has never seen herself as beautiful, she doesn’t think she’s cared much for such a thing. Most often she is dirty and she can’t get her hair to look as silky as those of the olive trees, her stature is lean but short. So perhaps she starts looking a little differently at herself in pools, lingers in her form a bit longer before these mortals. It’s unwise, but she is curious and the creatures are new and amusing.

Until she meets her.

Artemis, the mighty hunter, reminds her again that she is wild. She is their companion, she seems to prefer their way of life to Mount Olympus. They hunt alongside her, they emerge from the trees at the mere sound of her hounds, for they do not need to fear man or satyr or lustful god when she is near.

Festivities among the trees are attended solely because she longs for the stories they bring, the music. There is much more she wants from this life, the forest is her home, she is a part of it, and yet it contains her. A satyr brings them the tale of Orpheus and she is surprised to find herself so taken by such a thing. She did not trust mortals, none of them did, they still hid from their sight or ran from them, went from flesh and blood to bark just to escape them. And yet this mortal had fallen for a nymph and had gone to the underworld for her. It had her casting a less critical and more curious eye towards those who ventured into the forest.

Though man has changed and what were once thoughtful creatures now cut down their trees, they chased nymphs and took them for wives in hopes they’d bear them sons. They seemed to spend most of their time fighting with one another and Acacia’s curiosity towards them turned to rage and confusion. One day, thinking she had heard the bark of Artemis’s hounds, she ventures just a little too far from her tree, a little past the outskirts of the forest, and she is crept upon by a man.

About to turn and flee at the sight of him, he pleaded with her to stay, his hands raised in surrender. And she paused only to realize he was no man at all and he claims he is Aristaeus, son of Apollo and one of Artemis’s companions, Cyrene. She’s never seen him before, but he wishes to hunt in the forest, waxs on wishing to hunt like his aunt, with the companionship of the Dryads. In exchange, he tells her that he will tell her of his time out in the world and who is she to refuse a child born of one of her sister’s? And so they hunt and he teaches her of art, how to work metal and clay and she grows fond of him.

But his visits grow less frequent and the earth bears the scars of man and she finds herself simmering once more. She is chased through what’s left of the forests by men who wish to possess something divine and in turn she leads them deeper into the woods with hope they never return.

Some don’t.

Lovers no longer bring her joy, nor the flowers, or her fellow Dryads as mortals continue to pillage and pollute the earth and so she weeps. She doesn’t know for how long, only that it is the last thing she remembers before falling into what she thought was an eternal rest. Acacia sleeps, but Eurydice awakes at the sound of this new world. Festooned with a name taken from her fellow nymph, one who died after being chased by her dear Aristaeus no less, she awaits what the gods have in store for Corinth.

PERSONALITY

+ compassionate, determined, mystified - vain, defiant, jealous

PLAYED BY M. CST. She/Her.

#dryad #taken #female #eurydice kouris #sofia carson

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confused-bi-queer · 3 years

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My journey, I was never straight, just in love with a guy

I feel safe, so I will write this, just because. Nobody is gonna read this anyway

I’m angry because it took me 18 years to freaking know that I’m not straight and there were several things that were obvious and I wish I would’ve notice them. So, here I go. I’m a her at this moment, keep that in mind.

When I was like 6 or so, I pretended to be a boy, for myself. It always made me curious.

When I was like 8 or 9 I never had a problem in dancing with another girl, I was always one of the tall ones and sometimes boys weren’t enough, so they put me with a girl friend and I liked to pretend I was a boy.

When I was like 10, I realized that my height never bothered me, just the fact that I was a tall girl and boys at that age were really really short.

When I was 11, or 12, I went to a catholic school dressed as a man. This was funny and cool. They told us to go in a costume and I went with a suit and a tie, and the director gave me a bad look, but I FELT SAFE. I liked my “costume”.

At that age, I wore a boxer for the first time and enjoyed the fact that I had men’s clothes, I hate them tho, they are uncomfortable.

When I was like 13, I almost kissed my girl best friend, by accident, and I didn’t care, but the fact that there were like 4 other people watching us, made me nervous.

When I was 14, I joked a lot about kissing a friend and spent over a WEEK figuring out which girl had the most desirable lips and who I would kiss if I could, the funny thing is that I had a boyfriend.

At that same time, I had a best friend, another girl, and we always joked about being girlfriends and we always planned, as a joke, to break up with our boyfriends and be together. I broke up with him like 4 months later, but for other reasons.

In those moments I noticed that it wouldn’t bother me if I ever had a girlfriend, to experiment right? (Crowley, the lies I told myself)

When I was 16, one morning I woke up and chose not to give a fuck and dressed up like the boys at my school: with long shorts, a hoddie, my socks high and like that and I felt nice, but my sibling was like “you’re gonna go like that” and changed.

By the end of 2019, my family knew that I liked dressing like a guy sometimes and my mom told me in public, “Why don’t you come like a man, you know, with your tie and suit?” and I loved the idea, but the people around us laughed and I just told her I’ll pass.

I went shopping with my family, to buy clothes, and I was feeling shy because I wanted to buy boy shirts, but I didn’t want anyone to look at me. I told my dad this, and he said it was fine and bought me 3 shirts, I felt soooo good, because I sometimes feel safer in those clothes.

NOW, from here was the real mess, when I noticed that this was not someone straight would do. In the middle of 2020, I was playing a game, A GAME, this episode thingy and chose a girl, because what the hell, I thought it would be fun and it was, and I’m in the middle of a dance class and said out loud for me: “well, this is way more exciting that with a dude” and everything just screwed up from here. Because when I heard myself I was like, what did I just say, and I spent the rest of the class thinking about that.

When the class finished, I thought more and realized that I might not be that straight after all. I questioned if I ever liked men or just my ex, because I’ve been in love with that guy sfor years, I don’t anymore, but I was into him from 5 years until I was 16 years, and that’s why I never knew anything about myself. After that, I made counts and I do like men, but girls too????? And FUCKING GOOGLED IT. Because I labelled myself immediately as a bi girl. And one test was like: “Well, if you’re here asking if you are straight, you’re not” and that sticked with me.

After that, I did some research and went back in my life and labelled myself again. Here’s the thing, I don’t like thinking about sex with men, I haven’t, and that thought made me anxious and disgusted, no offense men, and considered being an ace bisexual, like being attracted to both genders, but no sex. Buuuut, I found out about this term “demisexual” and fits me. But the problem was now the girls and it’s taking me some time to still discover at what point I’m attracted to them, but I am. At this moment I’m definitely bi, demisexual for the boys and confused with girls.

I have came out to three people, and whoever sees this, but doesn’t know who I am. The first person was a friend of mine, bisexual, and she was hella excited for me, so I feel safe with her. The second one was my sister, I tried, and boy did I regret it; she spent over half hour saying that I was confused and that only because a boy broke my heart I couldn’t hate men and that how would I ever be sure (because I didn’t tell her I was sure) and sometimes I say that a girl is pretty or things like that, but never to make her remember I came out. The last one is my best friend, we were on zoom and I sent her a text, didn’t talk about that, but sometimes I feel connected to her.

I cut my hair to my chin. And that felt NICE, I love my short hair, but I couldn’t cut it shorter, like a guy, because I dance and I need at least some hair to make a pony tail, at least. But once I’m out, I will cut it.

Once I was sure of me being bi and solved this thing that didn’t take me that long, just like 6 months, and I was finally happy and proud and I knew myself more, like I found myself, at the end of 2020 I started hating my clothes and my long hair. Because my hair is growing up so fucking fast.

On december 2020, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I sometimes am, and decided that when 2021 ends, I’ll know if I felt like that because I want to change the aesthetic of my clothes. I thought it was just that, I think it still is.

At the end of February and beginning of March of this year, I read Carry on and Wayward son, by Rainbow Rowell, and loved them, although I’m broken and not mentally stable anymore, but I loved them, I found my comfortable characters, Snowbaz, and I feel connected to them, because they have been an inspiration for a novel I’m writing, they have change me, and they are kinda ruining me, because I thought I wanted to become a director, but turns out I want to go to UK and study fucking literature (a plan I thought didn’t exist anymore, it does, AGAIN). Well, thanks to Baz in WS, I found my aesthetic: flower shirts. And actually flowers have always been my thing, but not once I have wore them because my mom always said they were too much. That’s why I don’t know if my gender identity is crap, because I never had a place to dress like I wanted: using men’s clothes.

Thanks to Baz and his amazing shirts, one day, like last week, I dressed as himself, with the things I had, and I could because I had the clothes, but too girly. After that, it came to me a question, that it’s been messing with me. “Do I want to look like Baz, or do I want to be Baz?” And that’s why I’m having a problem with my pronouns, mind, identity, fucking clothes and everything. A fictional character just messed with me!

I saw this person in tiktok that was gender fluid and I kinda identified with them, because some times I feel masc and sometimes girly and some times I want to cry because no one in my family understand this and I’m the closeted gender confused sibling, child, cousin. So, I think that maybe I am gender fluid or just mentally ill. Crowley,I need to go to therapy.

So, I have stated that I want floral shirts, no matter what, I do, I am a floral person, but people just don’t want other people to be be themselves with their clothes. Yesterday, I went for an ice cream with my sister and told her this, that I wanted and AM a floral person and pointed at her floral shirts and blew my mind, I WANTED THEM and she responded with a “those are boys clothes”, and I told her “so? what about that?” and changed the topic.

Basically, my problems are around the way I dress, the pandemic that has taken a complete year of my life and I want to fucking live, and the fact that I want to go to another country to study a career I discarded because I had a class like that in high school and broke me, and it is not cheap, I’m not good at it and my parents didn’t even like the idea of me living in another state my own country aaand it is too late for me to send an application for next semester.

Back to my original point, I never ever questioned anything of myself and my behaviours because I was in love with the same guy all my life and dated him for a long shit of time, so I thought because I liked him, I was a girl loving a guy, but after several years of having broken up with him, I am a someone bi, because I don’t know. I don’t, but spoiler alert... I am not straight, at all.

#bi #confused #confusedqueer #queer #gender #what is going on #baz #rainbow rowell ruined me #i dont understand #gay #bigirl #biboy #they #help me i'm gay #journey

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little-bard · 4 years

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So I have this idea for gender fluid in the witcher universe. So humor me if you will.

So I’ve seen the idea floated around the community how there could easily be trans people because they could just do the same thing as Yennefer. But obviously, you give up fertility to live in the body you should have been born with. I was thinking traditional non-binary could do it to appear more androgynous if that’s what they wanted as well. But then I started thinking of myself. I’m technically non-binary but I’m gender fluid. And sometimes I want to present highly masc but can’t because of my body but I would also be depressed if I couldn’t present femme anymore on the days where I felt that way.

So here’s my fantasy solution. You can go through the same spell but it’s ever-changing. Whereas Yen’s is a permanent appearance change this is one that changes with your true inner self. You obviously give up being fertile but I’m not sure if it would require more yet. It would obviously mean no casual sex as you don’t want the man you just bedded as a woman to wake up next to a man. Or reverse. And it would be hard to maintain friends because you could have two lives almost but once you maneuver telling the people you’re close to I think it would kinda be like a superpower? Like you can be a wanted criminal as a man and a queen as a woman. I also don’t imagine there being a lot of people who would be gender fluid in the universe. So it’s odd and many people don’t even know it exists. I think I would write a binary gender-fluid character with male and female. But they could be any genders. And it’s not like shapeshifting (I mean kinda but also no?) like strictly still their race and usually still similar looking.

I kinda have an original character in mind, obviously friends with Jaskier because I feel like the little bard draws special people to him. Maybe an Ex-lover? No definitely because Jaskier is bi/pan as heck and being able to love one person who’s both man and women and amazing and sweet. And ATTRACTIVE that’s amazing! Also, this person probably felt the most comfortable letting their pent up sexual energy out with the man Because let’s be honest, Jaskier is a sweetheart and treats them exactly the same no matter if they feel like a different gender in the morning. (Also they’re both huge sluts and enjoy the same things sexually.) And that’s exactly what they needed, someone who cared about them and understand they were one person, just someone who experienced 2 genders and needed to be both to be happy and fulfilled. But they realized they weren’t right for each other and remained best friends.

I imagine them meeting the gang in a female form. Short and curvy, long flowing wavy brown hair a beautiful dress and a soft almost doll-like face all tied together by their piercing green eyes. Jaskier sees them at a random event at court and invites them to travel with the crew to the next town as they’re all heading that way. At first, they’re weary but they agree, as it’s Jaskier there’s no way he would travel with anyone unaccepting of who they were.

Geralt is almost jealous when they arrive to begin the journey with their own horse (a bigger bag too. Normally one person didn’t need that much) and even lets Jaskier ride with them. Jaskier begins playing his lute and singing a song that Geralt isn’t familiar with but they certainly are, as they sing along to his song bird-like voice with a soft and beautiful voice of their own. At camp later too, the two were inseparable. Geralt tried to not stare at them. Jaskier had always been a flirt and could get any person in bed if he wanted to. But it was the familiar feeling between the two that put Geralt on edge. Nobody but him was supposed to those soft smiles on Jaskiers lip or having Jaskier sing them songs only they knew. Geralt felt the Magic on them but he and yen agreed that it was just like the spell on her. Appearance-based nothing more. The two old friends put their bedrolls basically on top of each other and Geralt often heard a small giggle from either one of them throughout the night. He kept his eyes looking up at the sky as to not know if his bard was bedding another.

In the morning Geralt stared shocked, as where there once was a small woman the night before there stood a tall buff man maybe even two inches taller than him. The man had on a simple tunic and leather pants, his hair was longer then Geralt’s and brown and wavy but was pulled up in a bun, he was broad-shouldered but still seemed to have a clumsy air about him, most importantly, he had green piercing eyes. Jaskier was basically hanging off the mans arm as he begged for the man to make him breakfast. All the man did was let out a low deep chuckle. Geralt forced a cough and that alerted the pair to his presence.

“Jaskier.” Geralt basically growled. He was demanding an explanation but the bard was busy trying to shove a pan into the taller person’s hands.

“You didn’t tell them?” The man said as fear ran through his eyes. “Jaskier!” They said in a deep roar. “You always do this”

“I didn’t think it was any of there business Cass! Who you are shouldn’t be that much of a big deal.” Jaskier responded. Geralt was almost hurt that he was being ignored but at least they weren’t being close like before. Somehow them fighting calmed him. “Also I don’t always do this.”

“Oh yeah? What about that time you basically demanded we have a threesome with that warrior woman? We bedded her as two men. You remember how you promised me, you would make sure I got to our room that night before the morning in case I wasn’t the same and it put our lives in danger? You know I get sleepy after sex! But you wanted another round so you let me fall asleep then and then you did after. Remember her reaction when she woke up and a woman was curled into her side? She almost killed us for ‘tricking’ her!” This statement did not calm Geralt. Especially coming from the beefy man in front of him. Jaskier definitely had a type. By now yen was awake and listening intently. It’s almost as if you could see the popcorn in her hand. Both of them were slowly piecing, where the women had disappeared to, together though.

“I thought you liked when I demanded you. You know you could have always said no. I only did that because of both of our enjoyment.” Jaskier genuinely looked worried and stepped closer to the other person before him, resting a soft hand on their arm.

“Jask, you know it’s not that. I did enjoy it...” they suddenly got quiet, becoming more aware of the others around them. “...can we not discuss my sexual desires in front of a witcher and a sorceress, please? I was saying you normally forget how hard it is for people to understand who I am. Not everyone is you Jaskier. Some people like a heads up that the women they met yesterday is now a man who looks like he weight lifts 3 cows every morning.”

“I know I’m sorry. I just forgot it’s not normal. You’re one of the most important people in my life, I just assumed others would judge you on character, not gender.” Jaskier apologized in a soft voice.

“It’s fine. I know you don’t mean harm.” They smiled and picked up Jaskier for a strong hug. Jaskier let out a giggle and hugged them back.

Geralt coughed letting them know of his presence once more. The taller person pulled away from the hug with a deep blush.

“Oh, I guess I’ll formally introduce myself as Jaskier didn’t. I’m Cass. Born Lady Cassandra. Jask likes to joke it’s actually short for Casanova. I have a similar spell as Yennefer if what Jaskier tells me and what I know about sorceresses is true. But mine is a bit more complicated. I don’t feel one gender or the other. I feel both but normally at different times. I settled mine with changing each day based on how my true self felt when the sun rises.” They extend their hand for Geralt to shake. He grabs it hesitantly.

“So your Jaskiers lover?” Yennefer asks bluntly.

“Ex-lover. No need to fear dear sorceress, I’m very much free for the taking.” They said with a chuckle and wink. “Me and Jask work much better at friends. So you need not worry either Witcher! I promise to not lay an ill-intentioned finger on your little bard. But if you don’t soon someone will. I mean unless you're not into small boys, if that’s that case I’ll over myself then” They laughed and it was deep and jolly. It felt like it could shake the whole forest.

“Cass!” Jaskier lept back into the conversation and slapped the other. “Stop flirting with my friends. They’ll start to like you more than me. Go make breakfast, Geralt always burns it.” He shoved the pan at them while pushing them to the fire.

OKAY IM STOPPING THERE.

Basically, I needed to get this out of my system to focus on actual fics. But it was really cute in my head. I hope you enjoyed 💕

#geralt #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #cute #gender #genderfluid #the witcher netflix #jaskier x geralt #geraskier #yennefer of vengerberg #yenneferthewitcher #oc #littlebardfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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diarrheaworldstarhiphop · 5 years

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Five years ago, while a student at Columbia, Sulkowicz lugged a dorm-issue, extra-long twin mattress around campus for as long as she had to attend school with her alleged rapist. This was Mattress Performance (Carry That Weight), a globally viral art piece that made visible the weight of campus sexual assault. It transformed Sulkowicz into an icon. Since then, her artworks have regularly roused the internet: a video of her reenacting her assault, a bondage performance at the Whitney that doubled as institutional critique. This past spring, she tweeted an image that was perhaps even more provocative: a photo of her grinning alongside two of her libertarian critics — not performance art, she insists, but a byproduct of her new curiosity about other views.

“All my clothes are in boxes,” she tells me, gesturing apologetically to her oversize charcoal hoodie. She’s in the midst of moving from a sublet owned by a tantra instructor (mirrors surrounding the bed to create an infinite regression — that kind of thing) to an apartment in lower Manhattan whose location she asks me not to reveal, since “there’s some really scary people who are obsessed with me.” Her hair is short-cropped and coffee black, its natural color after years of bright dyes, and her voice is buoyant, laughter always bubbling underneath. Since 2016, Sulkowicz has identified as gender fluid, and she sometimes uses they/them pronouns. When I ask what to use for this article, she texts me, “Lol I’m not clear about it either,” before settling on she/her.

During the summer of 2018, Sulkowicz tells me, she was single for the first time in years. Swiping through Tinder, a man she found “distasteful” super-liked her. “It smelled like Connecticut,” she says of his profile. “He was very blond, law school, cut jawline, trapezoidal body figure, tweed suit kind of vibe, but something inside of me made me swipe right, I don’t know.” They began messaging, and she found him witty. “He was actually way more fun to talk to than any other person I matched with.”

Eventually, Sulkowicz stalked him on Twitter and realized that he was conservative — “like, very conservative.” At first, she was repulsed and considered breaking it off. But then she thought, “Wait, actually, that’s kind of fucked up because he’s the most interesting person I’ve come across, shouldn’t I be open to talking to him?” After dispelling her initial fear, she texted him that it would be “interesting (progressive? Powerful?) for two people who might be the antithesis of each other to go on a Tinder date.”

Ahead of this date, they traded reading assignments: Sulkowicz gave him the password to protected areas of her website, and he sent pieces he’d written for conservative magazines, which she printed, annotated with her critiques, and brought to their date. This man expected Sulkowicz to be “the patron saint of wokeness,” but when he met her, he found that she wasn’t actually trying to litigate the issues — she was mostly just “curious about this different perspective that she had not been as familiar with.” The two “sort of dated” for a while and then realized that their chemistry was more conversational. They became “amazing friends.”

Not having known conservatives before, Sulkowicz had to play catch up. Early in their friendship, she asked him to recommend one book to help her understand him, and he picked Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind. It’s a book that explains, in evolutionary terms, the human tendency toward political tribalism and the importance, in light of that, of learning from one another’s beliefs. She calls the book “mind-opening.” Its resonance with her new friendship did not escape her.

Shortly after, Sulkowicz attended a book talk of Haidt’s. This was for The Coddling of the American Mind, which diagnoses the campus left with the kinds of cognitive distortions that addle the chronically anxious and depressed: a tendency to blow everyday problems out of proportion, or to believe that one’s negative feelings reflect reality. This book kicked a hornet’s nest on the left, and when Haidt learned that Sulkowicz was at his talk, he didn’t assume she was a fan. “I expected her to be the sort of person who sometimes asks the angry question when I give lectures on campuses,” Haidt tells me. “And when I first saw her and she had blue hair, that fed my assumptions and expectations about what her views and values would be.” But Sulkowicz surprised him. “It changed the way I think about politics,” she said about The Righteous Mind, “and I wanted to thank you for it.” The two became friends.

Soon, she began attending house parties and happy hours with conservative and libertarian intellectuals, reading Jordan Peterson and articles from the National Review. In the past, Sulkowicz dismissed opposing views without understanding them, but now she sees intellectual curiosity as intertwined with respect: she wants to disagree with people on their own terms. This is an ethical position, but one with personal resonance. “I’ve always been upset,” she admits, “that there are people out there who assume that I’m a bad or mean person without ever having met me.” When she describes her political journey, she fixates on the experience of surprising people, of walking into a group who might otherwise dislike her and “disrupting their expectations.” At these parties, she reflects, “I can become fuller to certain people rather than staying the same caricature. I’m going from flat to round.”

- - -

A couple weeks after our lunch, Sulkowicz brings me to a book party at a dark bar on Bleecker Street. Here, she introduces me to her friend from Tinder, who asks that I not use his real name for this article. (It might be a distraction at his white-shoe law firm and, besides, “Emma is inured to online hate, but I am not.”) When he asks if he can choose his own pseudonym, I tell him sure. He picks Chad. It’s a reference to the incel term for men who, due to serendipitous genetics, are attractive enough to have oodles of sex. All of us laugh, but Sulkowicz laughs loudest, her voice tinkling, bell-like, and leaping between octaves.

Chad is a Chad, by the way, and he does “smell like Connecticut”: he has cornsilk hair, a shieldlike chest, and a jawline that an incel might show his surgeon for inspiration. But Chad is also a different kind of conservative than I imagined. Rather than a bowtie-sporting William F. Buckley type thumbing his nose at populism, he finds Reaganism laughably passé and aligns himself with Tucker Carlson’s anti-elite drive to regulate markets. He says that he would support some of Trump’s policy agenda, if only the president were competent enough to achieve it.

This party is for Robby Soave, a libertarian reporter on the snowflake beat whose new book, Panic Attack: Young Radicals in the Age of Trump, is — per Soave’s own description — “a book that is extremely critical of [Sulkowicz] and that I don’t wish her to read.” Soave met Sulkowicz a month or so before at another libertarian happy hour. Initially bewildered, he warmed to her, finding her to be inquisitive and even fun to talk to. “We exchanged contact information,” he tells me later, “and talked about maybe becoming, I guess, friends or something?” He laughs incredulously as he says this, sounding a bit on edge.

As Sulkowicz swirls around the party, her presence stirs an obvious question: whether this is performance art. Soave brings it up twice when we speak on the phone afterward, acknowledging the possibility that he’s being set up. While he’s inclined to believe that Sulkowicz is moved by earnest curiosity, he’s aware of her background in “elaborately planned performance art” and her reputation as a provocateur. Since graduating from Columbia in 2015, Sulkowicz has done around a dozen performances touching on issues like consent, anti-institutionalism, climate change, trauma, wellness, and female sexual desire. It’s natural to wonder if she’s currently breaking bread with this crowd to lampoon civility politics or to expose views she hates. Honestly, it might be harder to believe that she’s simply trying to learn.

But Sulkowicz is adamant that this isn’t performance. In fact, she insists that she’s quitting art altogether. After one of our lunches, she bikes off to return the keys to her studio, which she’s emptied and swept clean. “For many years,” she explains, “I wasn’t interested in listening to other points of view. I was very emotional and making performance-art pieces that were very reactionary and fiery.” Without disowning them, she describes these artworks as something she “got out of her system.”

Having found the art world humorless, narrow-minded, and grotesquely competitive, Sulkowicz says she stopped making art about a year ago. She quit a fellowship at a museum, ceased teaching art classes, and was essentially unemployed for a time, drawing income from occasional speaking gigs, mostly about campus sexual assault. (Her remarks on Me Too have been fewer; she supports it, but wants a clearer path to forgiveness.) She has been working on a memoir that draws on her diaries from Mattress Performance, and last month, she started a full-time, four-year master’s program in traditional Chinese medicine. There, she’ll learn skills from acupuncture to herbalism, which have been her “personal healing modality” for years. Sulkowicz has parried assumptions that this is performance art, too. It grates on her. “I’m a human and humans can change,” she says, insistently. “I’m telling you that I don’t want to make art anymore.”

But in some ways, it’s easier to assume that Sulkowicz’s political posture is performance art: this provides a clear motive, one that’s politically straightforward. If Sulkowicz is not making art, then it’s much harder to grasp why she’s doing this and what it means. Part of the confusion, Sulkowicz assumes, springs from a pervasive misunderstanding about who she is, rooted in the dissonance between her public image and private consciousness. While many assume she’s at Soave’s book party for some admixture of art and progressive politics, Sulkowicz says she’s mostly there for fun.

#emma sulkowicz #profile #mattress performance (carry that weight)#politics #power

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vixenandviper · 4 years

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HOLD! WHO GOES THERE? WHY, IS THAT [CATLINA JOHAR] THE [MADAME OF THE HOUSE] OF [ILLASQA]? THEY DO LOOK [ASSERTIVE] FOR A [WOMAN] OF [29] YEARS. DON’T THEY CALL [HER] THE [SAVVY AND PROTECTIVE HARLOT]? I’VE HEARD THEY’RE ALSO [SILVER TONGUED AND VICIOUS] THOUGH. DON’T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT BUT THEY DO LOOK AN AWFUL LOT LIKE [SUMMER BISHIL].

Basic Info

NAME: Catlina Johar

PRONUNCIATION: Cat-Leena Joe-Har

OCCUPATION: Madame of the Nightshade

AGE: 29

PLACE OF ORIGIN: The Red Keep

FAMILY MEMBERS: None known

Physical Description

HEIGHT: 5′2″

HAIIR COLOR: Dark chestnut with some lighter brown highlights

EYE COLOR: Dark brown

GENDER: Female

BUILD: Pete and slim

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES?: None besides a few freckles

ANY HEALTH RELATED ISSUES?: None

Personality

Catlina isn’t a sweet person. She can drip honey from her tongue if that’s what you want but it’ll cost you. Overall, she is someone who isn’t afraid to speak her mind but won’t give you any insight into her past. She does have a bit of an explosive temper but her rage is something she rarely taps into because she knows if she did, the things she’d say would probably land her in prison.

She is, however, extremely loyal to those who have been good to her. Whether that’s a simple favor or someone who has befriended her, you can be sure Catlina Johar will have your back. She is extremely protective of the people who work in her brothel and by extension, the people that work in the tavern. The tavern itself is owned by someone else but they all work together closely.

Additional Info

Catlina runs a tavern and brothel in Illasqa currently, though she was born in the Red Keep. I would love for her to have a few girls and/or guys in her care and business partners. Anything involving the brothel, essentially. As well as rival brothels or establishments too. She’s extremely protective of the girls in her care and wouldn’t let anyone do anything without their consent.

I’d love the Elliot to her Margo. He could be someone who frequents the tavern/brothel or someone who bought it with her. Essentially, he’s her only real friend and the only person other than herself she actually trusts. She would kill for him… and probably has. And he thinks of her as his best friend.

People from her past. She was born on the streets of the Red Keep, her mother was probably a prostitute herself. But an older woman took pity on Cat and took her in, essentially ‘buying’ her from her mother. She was the only person Cat ever saw as a mother but she died when she was a child. Afterwards, Cat lived on the street and probably ran with some bad crowds, fending for herself. She probably made friends enough with some of the prostitutes and convinced them to let her clean up after them or fetch them food and drinks, etc, that they gave her a little closet she could sleep in. She eventually got a job as a serving wench and worked as a prostitute when she was older. But I would love plots from her past, anyone that would have known her back then.

History

She could have ended up in the gutter, in the shit and the muck, in the poorest areas of the Red Keep were it not for her intense desire to not die. Catlina was born without a last name. She was born without a first name until she was given up, just a few days after her birth. Her mother was a prostitute and she was an accident.

Cat was given up to an old woman known around town as Mani who often sold pastries and bread and cakes to the courtesans and clients that visited the Red Door. Her mother had left her in a basket, her only words to the old baker woman were “Please… I can’t. Please take my johar.” The first few years of her life were probably the happiest she could have actually known, given all of the circumstances. The woman was old and growing frail, already into at least her mid-sixties by the time she’d been given Catlina. But she had a heart full of love and a warm home, even if it was really just a room on top of her bakery.

The woman had decided to give Catlina a real name, though she often called her ‘Johar’ as her birth mother did. She taught Catlina how to read and write over the years and some basics that she knew about keeping her business going in the bakery. She often told Cat tales of her own youth and the life she’d led with her husband who had died a few years before. It had been a joyful and full life, even if they’d never had children. And she never told Cat who her mother was, only where she worked. She always said “We’ll talk about this when you’re older.”

But older never came for Cat’s caretaker. She was returning from buying goods from the woman when the bakery was ablaze. The old woman’s body had been burned to an unrecognizable degree and all the magi putting out the fire could tell her was that they hoped she’d died before the inferno took over the home. It seemed the oven had caught the rickety old walls on fire and the rest… was left as cinders. She had once again lost everything and she realized the woman who’d taken care of her was the closest thing she had to a mother.

For weeks, the girl managed to survive on the streets, doing odd chores for various business owners who knew her caretaker. They gave her a few coins, enough for her to buy some bread and fruit and occasionally would let her sleep in their store rooms. It was enough for her, she only ever wanted to survive.

Catlina found herself on the streets during a storm and afterwards, the girl became terribly ill. She remembers falling asleep on the streets and later feeling nothing but warmth. She didn’t know that’s what death would feel like but she was certain she was dying. And perhaps it was Jvala greeting her herself. Welcoming her back into the volcanic earth that she grew.

When she came to, she found it wasn’t Jvala’s warmth welcoming her into the After, but rather someone physical and real and towering and… she was terrified at first. Arvasdarr happened to be the one to find her, broken and sick and cold as she was in the streets. And through whatever hope or goodness or pity he had left in his heart, he took her in and helped her recover. She was with him for a few months at the most, and he’d never quite felt human. She’d asked him very straightforward if he was a dragon. He laughed at her but that was all the answer she needed. Even as a child of just ten years old, she knew he needed his freedom. And he needed to fly free more than anything. And he couldn’t do that looking after a kid. So she went to the place her Mani had mentioned, the Red Door.

No child of ten should have seen the things Catlina saw there. But she begged a few of the girls to give her chores, errands, let her clean, anything, if they’d just let her stay in one of the small store closets. They allowed this little trespass as long as she stayed out of their way. So Catlina went to Arvasdarr and the two parted ways. It was for the best, although he might have been the closest she’d ever find to a father figure.

The years drug on for Catlina, she cleaned, cooked, ran errands, bought groceries, mopped up bodily fluids and even helped the women at the brothel kick drunk men out of their rooms. And she stayed out of sight when she could and out of the way the rest of the time. The women there kicked her a few coins back every time she did them a favor and Catlina began saving more and more of it, buying only as much food as she needed to survive, the rest she stockpiled in order to one day leave the Red Keep.

She had dreams, she wanted a small house somewhere on a beach maybe, and she wanted to live by what she could provide herself. If she found a family along the way, she might be happy to make her own, but all she needed, perhaps, was independence and her own indomitable willpower.

Catlina started servicing the clients too sometime around fifteen or sixteen. She was making more money and paid for a room at the brothel out of her cut. Still, she scrimped and saved, occasionally fighting with one other girl there specifically, but she paid her as little mind as possible. She knew it would solve nothing and get her nowhere near what she wanted.

At eighteen, she left the Red Keep. Her first stop was a three year long stint in East Reach before she finally had enough money saved to book passage and move permanently to Illasqa. She found work there at what was then the Shrieking Clam. But she was motivated and she put in more than her fair share of hard work. On top of taking clients, she did what she could around the tavern and inn to make it function and look better.

She also met Avitej Kumara there. If only she’d known how much her life would change just by meeting him.

The first rule for any whore is to never fall in love. And perhaps she’d broken that rule the moment they’d locked eyes. But she would not realize the extent of the hold he had on her for many years. He was wild then, seemingly untamable. But he’d come often to the Shrieking Clam, it was a favorite haunt of his apparently, and when he’d laid eyes on her, there’d been no one else he wanted to claim.

The next few years were a whirlwind for Catlina. She quickly gained the previous owner of the Shrieking Clam’s favor by being hardworking and having the business tact and savvy that he was looking for. He was aging and wanted someone to take over for him. He trained her on everything she needed to properly manage a brothel and as she stepped further into the role of leadership, the place really started to turn around, and she took less and less clients.

When the man finally retired, Catlina was twenty six. By that point, she only ever took one client when he came around, and she had fixed and rebuilt all of the broken parts of the brothel. She renamed it the Nightshade and slowly, but surely, it had become less and less of a den of debauchery, and more and more a palace of pleasure. If it was any other sort of business, it would be respectable outside of Loqoala, even admired and favored.

But that was Calina Johar’s life. Hard work. The fate she was given overcome by sheer will but the fate she wanted still so far out of reach.

#kc.intro #finally posting this after literally 28 years

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