• he/they

It's a horrible day on the Internet, and you are a lovely geuse.

Adult - Plants-liking queer menace - Front-desk worker of a plural system - Unapologetic low-effort poster

✨ Cohost's #1 Sunkern Fan(tm) ✨

[Extended About]

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Three pixel stamps: a breaking chain icon in trans colors against a red background, an image of someone being booted out reading "This user is UNWELCOME at the university", and a darkened lamppost.(fallen london stamps by @vagorsol)



re: that FFXIV fanfic about the Warrior of Light's headmate taking his place, which we described as having the most accurate portrayal of switching we've personally seen, here's the relevant excerpt:

[Headmate] stands there for a moment, half-expecting the body to move without him, as it has always done before: its reins held by the Warrior, bumbling about their quarters in the business of winding down for rest, idly setting aside their sword and armor, and preparing for the next day.

He waits, and waits, and nothing happens.

Eventually, he hauls out a chair and drapes his sword and belts across it, pulling off bits of his armor piecemeal and remembering -- vaguely -- the process of eating. He picks halfheartedly at the dinner tray that is brought in when he asks for it, stubbornly disinterested in the flavors of the food even as his stomach growls for more. By now, the Warrior would have been undergoing the process of washing their face and kicking up their feet on the nearest table like an uncultured barbarian, shaking out their pouches of crumbs and stray coins, and reviewing scribbled notes and missives from the day's affairs.

All of these tasks will not happen on their own. [Headmate] is alone. He must do it all himself.

That night, he haphazardly dumps the rest of their armor on the nearest table, finishing off the last scrap of bread and gravy without savoring any of the taste. He sleeps in a bed which still smells of the Warrior, breathing in the lingering sweat and armor polish on the sheets, and when he wakes the next day -- blinking up at the ceiling in confusion at the silence around him, hands and legs moving by his intention alone -- he calls out three times for them in his mind before remembering that it is no longer the name they answer to.

The ache of surprise that follows is already a dull one, settling into what he knows will be a permanent spot in his chest. Shoving back the blankets, [Headmate] gets up, and readies himself for another day of pretending to be someone else.

the fic in question is Monarchs in Flight by rabbitprint - it contains sexual content and there are major spoilers for Shadowbringers and the Dark Knight quests, as a heads-up.


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