Here's your daily reminder that nonbinary people who operate very seperate from the gender binary are good and deserving of respect. Neopronouns, xenogenders, and refusal to use alignment terminology are all amazing ways of being nonbinary. 💜💛🖤
FENRIS PRIDE ICONS!
in order from left to right:
TOP ROW: bigender, transgender, genderfaun MIDDLE ROW: nonbinary, demiboy, genderflux BOTTOM ROW: genderfluid, agender, solarian
[ if used, please credit @bigenderfenris! ]
(icon requests open)
if you're having trouble viewing these photos, they can also be found on my tumblr in this post!
well I blame [[[MENTION:[(neopronoun.waterfall.social)@neopronoun]]]] for having the nonbinary lesbian flag on a pride post and noting they "don't see it used much." I love love LOVE the color scheme but it seemed way too gradient and complex personally, so I got bored and made a simplified (and slightly altered) version of it! Free to use, I'd appreciate credit where possible though!
(hell yeah, yellow lesbian flag!!! very happy now!!!)
HEART EYES..... this is gorgeous! <3
some trans chloe price icons i made
nonbinary lesbian (an old flag i don't see get used anymore)
[ if used, please credit @bigenderfenris! ]
this is a sideblog for [[(https://bigenderfenris.waterfall.social/)[@bigenderfenris](https://bigenderfenris.waterfall.social/) where i'll be posting a bunch of trans positivity stuff! that includes general positivity, hopefully resources, answering any questions you've got, etc. etc. as well as celebrating canon trans characters and trans headcanons!
Outside Your Window - Fenbela (BG Polyam) | Dragon Age 2bigenderfenris -
(crossposting from ao3 - the fic can also be found here!)
Title: Outside Your Window
Warnings: stalking, ptsd, paranoia, implications of assault and transphobia, past abuse
Tags: Modern Thedas, Trans Fenris, Genderqueer Merrill, Nonbinary Hawke, Fenbela, Merribela, Fenhawke, Polyamory
Summary: Fenris' friends worry about him when he disappears for a day. Isabela worries the most.
Fenris is hiding in his apartment again. He can’t even pretend to call it anything else - he is hiding, plain and simple, cowering under the blankets and telling himself over and over to forget.
This method has never worked before, but he has yet to stop trying.
He shakes the thought away. The fear it brings is too much.
This way, no one will know Fenris is home.
Usually, when the paranoia becomes this static current under his skin, he is still able to keep the TV on, or at least have his laptop open to some Youtube video to distract his mind. He’s partial to Good Mythical Morning for these types of moods, not because he finds it terribly stimulating, but because it reminds him of Hawke.
Hawke loves videos of people eating weird things. Just the thought of Hawke’s delighted smile makes Fenris feel free from harm, though it doesn’t last long.
If he invited Hawke over, they could watch it together under the blankets, squinting at Fenris’ cheap television as the attached laptop played the same image. As Hawke joked about the “two TVs” making them feel rich, Fenris would be tucked up under their strong arm, head against their shoulder. With every kiss to his hair, every gentle touch to his hand, every dumb joke, Hawke would prove to him that if Danarius came by-
But, the laptop is sitting idle on his cheap, wobbly desk, no sound in the room but the occasional Discord notification. The laptop isn’t even hooked up to the TV anymore, just in case he has to grab it and run.
And Hawke isn’t here. Fenris is alone.
He spends as little time alone as possible nowadays. It’s dangerous to go out on his own. No one but Hawke and their friends know what Danarius even looks like - if he were to stride up to Fenris in public and demand he come home, what would Fenris even do?
For all his martial arts training, he knows he couldn’t attack the man, not in public. They don’t have proof of his abuse, so Danarius would have the upper hand. Even then, he’s not even sure he’d be able to fight him. When it comes to Danarius, he feels so… helpless. For all his strength, all his ability, he is complacent with the fear of the man he once was proud to call a lover.
Just the thought repulses him now. He feels phantom hands across his skin.
But his friends are always happy to protect him. With Isabela pushing the shopping cart, Anders complaining about the nutritional value of the food thrown into it, those hands fall away and Fenris feels brave. Safe.
He doesn’t feel like that now.
Now, his palms sweat and his head pounds and he has a hard time taking breaths. He does what Merrill taught him, in through his nose and out through his mouth, but there’s a knot in Fenris’ throat the shape of Danarius’ name and it feels like the word no. It’s always a little too warm in the room, but he can’t seem to stop his teeth from chattering.
The room is as silent as damnation but any noise at all and certainly Danarius will hear it. Danarius will come for him, is coming for him, is already here.
Fenris pulls the blanket tighter over his head.
He tells himself he is alone.
She waits for the phone under her gaze to light up, staring at it, watching the dark screen the way Aveline watches that guy Donnic’s butt. The phone remains still and silent, surrounded by the curly curtain of her hair as she leans over it intently. Her own eyes stare back, reflected at her through the dark screen, wide and worried.
Isabela huffs. She hates the way her face looks, brow drawn together like that. So serious!
But, fool man Fenris isn’t replying to anyone, because of course he isn’t, not since this morning, and while everyone else is usually content to give him his space, she’s worried. She knows she’s a worry-wart, always checking Merrill’s Instagram when she doesn’t hear from per during the day, nearly stalking Sebastian’s weirdly religious Twitter account even though it makes her wrinkle her nose, texting Anders for cat pics every day just in case…
Varric teases her about it, which, really, coming from him, should tell her something, but she can’t help herself. She loves her friends too much not to worry. If it weren’t for Hawke, she’d be the captain of this motley gang, and a captain takes care of her crew.
Sighing in frustration, she opens her phone to check the group Discord.
he’s fine, you guys, a message from Varric reads. at least he didn’t block everyone this time.
It was sent to the chat at least a half hour ago, to no replies (although she personally reacted with an eggplant emoji), and Isabela can’t imagine Fenris will be happy when he sees it. He’s always so pouty when they bring up his habits.
She finds herself agreeing with Varric, however. Last time Fenris pushed everyone away, trying to disappear, the whole crew had been certain that nasty old stalker Dumb-analingus or whatever his name is had gotten hold of their boy. Poor Fenris had been so apologetic after all the worry he’d accidentally caused, once it was all over. It was a little sad, watching him do little favors for everyone to make up for it. He’d even let her buy him dinner for three consecutive nights and given her a key so she wouldn’t get in trouble for picking his lock anymore.
She had teased him then, said he spoiled her fun, but really, she was grateful. And, if she were honest, the fact that he trusts her with a key is… monumental. Just thinking about it makes her melt a little. Fenris’ genuine trust in her is not helping her avoid her feelings for him.
This time, though, at least everything seems okay. The messages are going through, he’s just not reading them, might just be sleeping through the notifications. She tells herself that a few times, even convinces herself to be irritated at him instead of afraid, but it’s not quite good enough. The thought of that awful man outside Fenris’ window sends shivers up her spine - as does the thought that there’s no way to put him away for good and keep Fenris safe. Even Good Cop Aveline can only do so much until they have proof of Danarius’ continued abuse.
A part of Isabela hopes they never need proof. She’s terrified that one day, that proof will be blossomed across Fenris’ skin, or worse, pooled around his prone form, staining his clothes red. Whether he is living or dead doesn’t seem to matter much to Danarius, as long as Fenris is his and his alone.
Before Isabela can let that thought haunt her too much, her phone pings and she grabs it like a hawk swoops upon its prey. The message is just from Merrill, however, and she sighs, rolling over on her back to read it and reply to per. Worrying about her crush gives her no right to neglect her lover, after all.
kitten 💕 Orana says Fenris is in tbe building!! he’s in his room
kitten 💕 *the
That’s good, at least.
Isabela will remember to steal a sweet from the bakery for Orana after her next shift. If it weren’t for her, Isabela thinks they might go days without ever hearing about Fenris’ well-being. Maker knows Fenris rarely tells them, opting for the ever-ambiguous I’m fine. Pah! Luckily for Isabela, being roommates and survivors of the same man meant he and Orana kept close tabs on each other. The only person who knew Fenris better than Fenris was likely Orana.
In fact, she’s probably the one Varric gets all his info on Fenris from. Sneaky dwarf. And he calls her a worry-wart.
She taps out a quick reply.
to: kitten 💕 is orana home tho?? i dnt like the thot of him all alone 💀
kitten 💕 Not yet… she’s still at wirk with Hawke. Fenris texted her a while ago tho :3
Isabela sighs again, dropping her arms to bounce on the bed. For a moment, she considers letting Fenris cool off on his own. He’s a strong man - he can take care of himself for one night.
Maybe she should invite Merrill for some Minecraft fun as a distraction. Merrill always fills the world with way too many bunny spawns and Isabela always builds a penis tower and it’s always a wonderful time. The sound of Merrill’s laughter through per shitty mic is everything. But, with all this anxiety in her gut, there’s no way Isabela would be able to focus. That wouldn’t be fair to Merrill.
The image floods her mind again; those cruel eyes staring in through Fenris’ window, watching his sleeping form. Those wrinkled, violent hands on Fenris’ doorknob, on Fenris’ shoulder, on Fenris’ throat.
Well, that settles it, then. No matter how Fenris will react, her mind is made up. She has to keep him safe.
to: fenny-poo 🐺💖 how pissed would u b if i came over rn
Merrill can play by perself for tonight.
Fenris doesn’t know how long he’s been lying cold and afraid under his blanket, but he can guess it’s early in the evening, which means it’s been far too long. He tries to sleep, closing his eyes over and over, even rubbing the points of his ears the same way Mother used to, the same way Danarius used to, hoping the familiar trick would lull him into the Fade again.
It doesn’t work this time. It never really does anymore, just reminds him of Danarius’ awful hands on his waist, of Mother’s heartbroken voice saying, “You cannot change what you are, Leto.”
As if he needs to deal with dysphoria on top of all this.
Thankfully, the old memory passes by quicker than thoughts of Danarius, and he slowly begins to feel less smothered - and finally, less followed.
He’s just about getting to the point where he might be able to tiptoe over to the laptop, if only to let it play on silent with the brightness turned all the way down, when he hears someone fumbling with the front door.
He glances to Orana’s bed, not far from his own. She’s not due to get off work yet. The silence, too, is unlike her - Hawke always walks her home, no matter what, just in case some freak decides that a pretty elven girl all alone at night is just his type. They talk the whole way and when they get to the door, Fenris is always soothed by the sound of them laughing, Hawke’s warm guffaw and Orana’s shy giggle easily the best sound of every weekday evening.
As he hears the front door swing open, Fenris stares at the bedroom door in horror, He wishes desperately he had locked it. Could he do so now? Would it be safe to?
He doesn’t want to take the chance. There’d be no way to trick Danarius he isn’t here if the door is locked.
His own bed doesn’t have an underside since the stacked mattresses touch the ground, but Orana’s does. There’s not much room underneath with her boxes there, but he’s slender enough to crawl beneath, and he rushes to do so as quietly as he can, his heart pounding so hard he can taste it.
He knows Danarius can’t hear his heartbeat, even in the silence of the room. He just hopes his bed isn’t too warm to give him away.
A soft knock sounds against the door, sending a lightning strike of terror through Fenris so strongly he nearly vomits, but it is immediately followed by a familiar, playful tone.
“Hey there, sailor. Doing alright, all locked up in there?”
It’s just Isabela.
“We’re all worried about you, fool! So, let me in to play, won’t you? Make up for it.”
Fenris sags with relief, not even flinching as the sharp bits of Orana’s things stick into him.
He crawls out from under the bed slowly before tip-toeing to the door to murmur through the wood. “I’m fine, Isabela. But,” he swallows. “Please quiet down. He’ll hear you.”
There is silence again, followed by a heavy sigh. “Oh, Fenris. He’s not here. It’s just you and I, promise.”
“Isabela…” He tries to think rationally, but everything points back tohide. Survive. He’s coming.
“We’re okay, Fenris.” Her voice is gentle, genuine, the way it so rarely is. He can imagine her smiling. “I’ll protect you. I’ve got a knife in my boot and I am itching to slice a dirty old man.”
Against his better judgement, the corner of his mouth twitches. Isabela is good at that - making him happy, even when he doesn’t know how to be. “I’m opening the door. But… Don’t slice anyone.”
The door creaks open to reveal Isabela, hair kept back with her usual bandana, wearing yoga pants and one of her sleep shirts. His stomach turns over in guilt. She must have been getting ready for bed. He shuffles out of the way to let her in and she happily steps past him.
If only to avoid her gaze, he glances towards the window, surveying the dimly lit street. “It’s a bit late for a visit…”
“Oh, hush.” She flops on to his bed like it’s her own, sighing in exaggerated contentment. “We both know you aren’t doing well. I’m here to help!”
“I… do not need-”
“Then I do.” The look she shoots him is challenging. He can’t help but smile at it. “So, come over here and let’s cuddle. Oh! Put on The Office first. That’s a good show.”
He really doesn’t want to do that - even though he knows Isabela will protect him if there’s a break-in, the thought of light shining out his window and showing evidence of life here terrifies him. He cannot leave a trail for Danarius to follow. He has to keep Orana safe, too. He cannot lead their shared nightmare here.
When he fails to reply, Isabela turns her head towards him, her hair splayed across his pillow. “We can watch the Tevinter remake, if you want.”
At that, Fenris growls under his breath, “Oh, don’t even.”
“What, you don’t like it? Not very patriotic of you.” Her teasing smile lights up the entire room.
Pretending to be unaffected by it, he rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “In season 2, Jim does blood magic. Jim! It’s offensive to his character - and to me.”
She snorts, giggling. “Okay, granted. That writing decision surprises me. I mean, Dwight, sure, but not Jim.”
A smirk forces its way onto his face and it is far more affectionate than he wants it to be. Already, he feels silly for his previous behavior - but foolish for allowing her here, lighting the room up for Danarius to see. Putting her in danger.
He shakes his head at the thoughts filling his head, but luckily she thinks he’s goading her on. “It just doesn’t suit him, does it?”
“And Pam doesn’t even say anything after he does it. Pam would hate blood magic.”
At that, Isabela laughs, throwing her head back, exposing her throat. She’s enchanting. “She would! She’s canonically a healer. And think about it - Jim would make some line about hating blood magic and she would laugh at it at her desk and it would be adorable. Hire me!”
He laughs, too, for the first time today. It feels nice. “He would be making fun of Dwight the blood mage. It’s what he’s best at.”
“Dwight at blood magic or Jim at making fun of him?”
As she giggles her bell-like laugh, he feels himself relaxing completely. His eyes drift to the window, but there’s no one there stalking him, just the two bright moons shining their light onto the still-damp alienage sidewalk. It’s… pretty. (It’s home). When his eyes meet Isabela’s again, so is she.
Watching The Office sounds like a very good idea. Maybe, when Hawke brings Orana home, they’ll watch it, too. Together.
no other posts in the trans fenris tag but mine.... my city now
my trans fenris headcanons
· he's small enough in the chest with a deep enough voice that he doesn't have to bind to pass
· doesn't want to bind, either. has dysphoria but deals with it by subverting expectations of what masculinity "looks like" and finding joy in that
- elves have different ways of expressing gender than shem anyways, even city elves
- his voice is naturally deep but he speaks low in the chest both for gender affirming reasons and because it's more natural for him
- leto is his deadname; before being named fenris, he chose his own name that is now lost to time after the lyrium ritual. perhaps in a hawke romance, after many, many years, he'd remember it
- found comfort among the fog warriors because they didn't have such rigid and defined ideas of gender (unlike tevinter)
- post-inquisition: likes magistress tilani way more than magister pavus (and not just because of the way varric describes her)
- krem and fenris are low-class trans vint solidarity
“Is it normal?” The dysphoria editiongenderfriends -
No dysphoria at all
Mild dysphoria that doesn’t interfere with life activities
Dysphoria not eliminated by binding/packing/tucking/gender-affirming clothes
More top than bottom dysphoria
More bottom than top dysphoria
No top dysphoria
No bottom dysphoria
Dysphoria that fluctuates
Dysphoria about things other than chest or genitals (hips/waist, voice, facial/body hair or lack of)
No dysphoria about birth name/pronouns
Dysphoria triggered by certain activities only (dressing a certain way, exercise, shopping, sex, public bathrooms, periods)
Feeling good in your body despite the fact that it’s not your “goal” body
Dysphoria not alleviated by hormones/surgery
No dysphoria about pronouns/no pronoun preference
No dysphoria while naked
No dysphoria about gendered words (handsome/beautiful, son/daughter, etc)
More dysphoria once you’ve come out or realized you’re trans
Less dysphoria once you’ve come out or realized you’re trans
Dysphoria with pronouns but not gendered words
Dysphoria with gendered words but not pronouns
Being cis and having dysphoria/using methods to alleviate dysphoria
Dysphoria influenced by mental illness
Unsure if you have dysphoria or not
Only having dysphoria in certain situations or around certain people
Dysphoria when seeing celebrities/models/people with “ideal” bodies
Yes, but you may want to consider seeing a professional about it:
Dysphoria that interferes with life activities
Unable to shower, change clothes, or other hygeine activities because of dysphoria
Refusing to leave the house
Urges to change your body in an unhealthy way (self-medding)
Urges to harm yourself
Any amount and type of dysphoria is normal
But if it’s severely affecting your mental health please try to see a therapist of some sort- check the links in the getting help post.
just a little pride photoset to lighten my mood a bit! Flags displayed are (in order): nonbinary, Lesbian (modified), Lesbian (labrys) And General LGBT. Feel free to use, please credit! Feel free to request personalized flags and icons!
(I need myself a yellow lesbian flag though....)