Anarch Wraith / Riot_0204
riot0204.bsky.social
Anarch Wraith / Riot_0204
@riot0204.bsky.social
42 followers 70 following 440 posts
18+ only please. Autistic, Trans femme. Fucking tired.
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This post will have a link to all our writings as a reply.

Also this is our tip jar, we appreciate anything you can give as it helps a lot.

ko-fi.com/riot0204
Reposted by Anarch Wraith / Riot_0204
Today is Intersex Awareness Day- a day to honour truth, visibility, and pride. Intersex people are born with sex characteristics that don’t fit typical definitions of male or female. These innate variations of sex characteristics are natural, diverse, and part of the human spectrum.
Reposted by Anarch Wraith / Riot_0204
Not seeing much on my timeline about it anymore, so here's a reminder: payment processors are still trying to censor NSFW content of all kinds, and are in fact getting more aggressive about it; I'm seeing stories of folks losing access every day

Call them & tell them THIS IS BULLSHIT
Stop payment processors from censoring games!
stop-paypros.neocities.org
When she blindly held your hand and it came to you...

She was yours...

You'd lost your faith and gained...

Your Faith.
You lost your faith that day, but you gained two things on its place.

One was the spark of life and purpose. Maybe from the halo shards embedded in your body...

The other, that fills the void and makes each day worth it. Came when they asked you her name...
"Girlfriend", you wonder, amongst the beeping machines.

They continue, she's lost her memory but called out your name. Must have been too close to the blast they say.

The realisation hits when they say she was blinded by it.
You just notice her... Smiling... As you both bleed out and sink into the soft ground. Her dress finally wetting with your blood.

It's not your day to die...

Someone calls an ambulance.

Terrorist attack. Must have badly hurt your girlfriend, they explain in the hospital.
Eventually you get to her.

And without thinking, you reach out and hold her hand. You don't even notice the shards of
exploding halo-shackle that embed themselves in your flesh.
The last crumbs of
your faith burn up in this fire as you step forward. One step at a time, your body feeling huge
pressure and head pounding.
A corrupted purpose and divinity. To. Bind her down as
punishment for daring to look upon her Master. Left on earth to decay to nothingness. Anger
starts to build in you. How could something meant to be so good be so petty.
The knowledge-memory that hits from that rips at what little faith you had.

Shackles. Forged from her halo.
She was... Is beautiful... But not in the way a human can be, in the way a cut gem or flower can be. It draws you closer to her.

Then you see the shackles round her ankles, tethering her to the ground. Golden. A gleam to them that seems sickly, like Cherenkov radiation for the soul.
Once this thought and image was in your mind, you somehow knew that was from her eyes
being burned out by the light of the Divine being. Even its servants can't look upon its form
without a cost. A pain in your chest halters your step but you try to get closer to see more.
You stood, moving closer for a better look, and saw more details. As you did the weight of
knowing what they were hit you, almost pushing you to the ground. The crude blindfold bandage round her eyes, obviously torn from the hem of the shift dress, surrounded by burn scars.
Her wings had a dull metallic shine, the edges though had turned to rust and Verdigris. The orange and green tints being some of the only colour on her. Her skin was the white not of flesh but of marble or paper, as if no blood flowed beneath it.
She could have been no more than five foot tall but was so thin and wispy it was as is she'd float
away. A simple shift covered what modesty you projected on her, standing in the rain, head
tilted up. It was completely dry and seemed to be soiled with dust ignored by rain.
At first you thought it a Strange costume, but looking closer you noticed the rain seemed to bounce off at the wrong angles, as if they reality was bending.
Your legs didn't get much use since you took the remote working job.

It was then you saw it. Saw her.
Your clothes clung to you like damp moss to a dying tree. You'd found a bench in the park by your home. Hideously uncomfortable, yet more hostile architecture. Still better than standing.
It was a miserable day. The sky the colour of a 50s sitcom. Rain was falling and people were
scattering for cover. You didn't, you had been planning this walk for days, psyching yourself up to
leave your isolation and computer desk to go to the park.
The day you met the angel still sticks in your mind. After all, it was the day you both knew that
the divine was real and the day you entirely lost your faith.
Angel - An Empty SpacesShort Fiction

CW bodily harm, blinding, blasphemy.

Originally on twitter.
Some of that trailer hit the empty spaces combat dolls like a sledgehammer and then splash damaged the mind control and toxic yuri communities and the fallout was the seeds of the genre.
We just want others to have stuff to read they would like... And for others to get their stuff read by an audience who will enjoy it. Really don't get those who won't expand their views to enjoy things. It's like they hate pleasure or something?