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@catgirlspines
Call me Ridge. 21yo sapphic PNW transfem.
- Not really into men. If you're a boy in a girl way, I'll make an exception.
- If you're a minor you've gotta go anyway. Bye
- Anyone who asks nicely can have their ribcage peeled open <3
- If you're a trans girl we're sisters. Get under my desk.
- Asks and DMs open. Send me your worst fantasies.
#mine is the tag for my posts
#ridge words is the tag you can find my writing under
#ridge art is the tag with any art I decide to post
groundhog day time loop where the only people looping are you and another girl who tracks you down every single day and rapes and murders you
the first day after it happens you think oh my god i guess that was just gonna happen to me today, thank god i get another chance. so you alter your routine and she still finds you. so you figure ok, i guess this creep was trying to find me specifically and you make sure to be somewhere else entirely. and this time when she finds you she explains while she's breaking your wrists that the more you make her work for it each day the worse it'll be
you start the same place each morning at the same time. there's a limit on how far you can get, and she seems to know everything about you. every day is hide and seek across your entire hometown and every night you lose and you die with her cock in your guts. every single night.
one night without quite knowing know why you ask her what her name is. she laughs at you. you find yourself begging her to tell you. she won't. the next day you cry in bed all day & you die that night on her knife without ever leaving your room.
slowly you exhaust the possibilities for conversation with every other person. you get to know them and then they never change. nothing new ever happens to them. you lose track of the days, then start counting again, then lose track again. slowly it starts to feel like the only other person in the world who's even real is her. her. her.
nobody understands why you're so scared. why you're tired every morning when you went to sleep "last night" just after 9pm. you notice that the way people look at you starts to change -- and you know it's you because they're exactly the same every time. the stares and mutters must mean they can tell somehow. she's changing you. maybe if you change enough other things will change too. maybe she's helping. either way she's the only one who understands at all anymore. even if it's all her fault, at least you're not alone.
when she kills other people in front of you it's the worst. they never learn, or remember, so they're so shocked every time. so afraid. you know it's worse for them than it would be for you. you've practiced. it would be better if she did it to you.
the loop breaks long after you're already broken.
I am angry. I have been getting angrier and angrier and angrier over the last month. I've been angry at the federal government for what they are trying to do to myself, my friends, to those I do not and will never know. I've been angry at the nominally liberal party for having it be a genuine debates on if they should or should not abandon trans rights as a sticking point, concede it for other things they see as more pressing. I've been angry, boiling with rage really, at seeing how ready the general public is to just blame it all on us. Just. Any amount of association with the death of Charlie Kirk, or anything that looks like we're linked to crimes, etc etc. Even while my home city, lauded as one of the safest in the nation, in one of the safest states in the nation, sees a string of transmisogynistic hate crimes in our fucking gayest neighborhood. But, they aren’t the things making me the angriest. I can understand those events, those perspectives, the motivations and misconceptions. They are evil, all in their own way, but they’re transparently and honestly evil. What is making me angriest, is the way the “queer community” and “trans community” are responding. That on the internet we as trans women are being shut down, gaslit, ignored, bullied into non existence, by our “own” community. But that isn’t even what’s making me angriest, what’s making me feel like theres a constant grinding in the back of my skull. Its the fucking performative allyship. The constant crooning and crying from tme’s about how they’re one of the good ones, about how its sad that trans women don’t trust anyone else, about how we need to protect the dolls, about how we’re all faggots in the eyes of the state and the best thing we can do to help keep ourselves safe is just shut up and let them handle it. About how we need to trust them, and how we’re the problem for not. As if every girl I know hasn’t lost friends for no good reason, as if every girl I know doesn’t have a horror story, as if every girl I know isn’t terrified of being dropped. I have been ejected out of two nearly entirely tme “found family” friend groups without ever telling me why. I have had a lover (a trans man) try to socially murder me after constantly pulling at my heart strings for months, literally to amuse himself, for no apparent reason. Over nothing. I have had friend group after friend group refuse to accept me. I have been treated like dirt, again and again.
And you all have the fucking gall, the nerve, to tell us we need to trust you. Earn that trust. Earn that fucking trust, go out and do something, ANYTHING, to help the trans women in your area. Take action, fundraise, defend, do. Fucking. Anything. I don’t know a girl who doesn’t feel stretched to breaking these days, one who isn’t so occupied with school and/or work plus making an escape plan, plus trying to maintain a social life, plus trying not to drink or smoke herself to death from stress that she can have the time to go out and help. Actually, I know one, and she nearly got ejected from her hard one local political seat for no reason other than being a trans woman. Step up or shut up. Probably both.
i regularly regret not letting you punch me in the stomach when i visited... ive been achingly curious since then and none of my other partners are into the idea. nobodys ever wanted to hurt me the way you did
presented without comment <3
rebog if you wanna pin a girl to a heavy wood door with a ballista bolt 5' long and thick as your wrist
fired - and i cannot emphasize this enough - from a siege engine on the other side of the ballroom
I... but what if we wanna catch her like midway through the room so the force of the bolt picks her up and carries her the rest of the way across to get nailed to the wall?
oh for sure i just mean the siege engine and the door are at opposite ends. you definitely wanna do this when she's 25-35 feet from the door so it catches her full in the chest and she has just an instant of silent graceful time hanging in the air before she slams full against the door, bolt sunk into the wood, toes inches above the fresh-blood-spattered marble tiles & scrambling for purchase
the tips of her toes (she's barefoot, she was trying to sneak into the castle) are just barely able to touch the floor where her blood is pooling and they are slipping on the cold tile leaving little trails in the blood as she tries to get enough contact with the floor to lift herself even a little bit from where her entire bodyweight is sat on the socket of the bolthead, where the shaft is secured, where it sits just below her sternum lodged straight through her, her weight pulling down against the meeting of her ribs & her hands scrambling on the length of the bolt & she can't. quite. breathe
the drips of blood are audible on the stone. only the big ones. it's the middle of the night and the castle is quiet. the baker won't be up for an hour. the door to which you are now literally transfixed has stopped creaking on its old iron hinges from when your body slammed into it a few seconds ago. from across the room you hear me sigh. you listen to the steady click of my calfskin boots on the chessboard marble tiles of the ballroom as i slowly cross to look at you appraisingly.
you're gasping for breath that won't come. i walk up close and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear; wipe a tiny smear of blood from where it's trickled out of your mouth. i taste it. you barely manage a cough. i ask dispassionately if you're still alive. you gurgle. your toes are still slipping against the cold marble. the blood is stickier now that there's more of it. you feel a rib crack as you settle a few centimeters lower. you're fighting to stay awake.
you don't hear it but as you're getting dizzy you suddenly notice my hound has padded to my side and is now licking the puddle of your blood. and now it's licking your toes. you try to keep your eyes open and you see that i'm staring at you unblinking, just watching your face. the dog bites your foot gingerly, like an experiment. all you can manage is a wheezy sexual-sounding whine.
i click my tongue approvingly without looking away from you. you try to scream but instead you spit up blood on your chin and neck: the dog is eating your foot. you can feel it and because you can't scream you can hear it too. the crunching. wet. i'm still just looking at your face. you didn't know it took this long to bleed to death. you try to beg me with your eyes. i lean to one side and take a deep appreciative breath, and watch you die.
Worse
you can do anything you set your mind to. you can be your own corruption arc. make yourself worse. go into the city for your first rave because the trans girl you've talked to twice on discord said you should. when you have to hide in the bathroom to have a panic attack with the music pounding, focus on the taste of the bile in your throat. remember the feeling, but shove it down. you're not there yet.
make yourself worse. go out onto the floor and look for someone making eyes at you. you don't have to try to hook up. but swap contact info. agree to the date they ask for next week. let them take you home. shove down the vomit this time when they're looming over you and panting with lust in their eyes. watch them pout when you hold it in. it's fine. you're doing it. but you're not there yet.
Hey, I just want to say that I've been obsessively scrolling through this blog over the past week in awe of its glory. Your tastes definitely lean more sadistic than mine but the sheer creativity and passion on display in your writing and the writing you reblog is incredible. Also extremely hot. You've inspired me to create a new tumblr account for exploring this kind of stuff more, so thank you!
Btw do you uh. H-have any knives that are in need of enrichment? Cause I might...know of somewhere they could...go...
aww! thank you so much. very flattered that this blog made you worse >:3 I am definitely a sadist but I'm rarely in front, and we presently do not have the actual first-aid knowledge for me to engage with sadism IRL, at least with bloodplay stuff like I'd like to. It's been on my list of things to do for a while but we have been very busy with life stuff, so a course isn't super easy to make time for rn. however. stabbing you stabbing you stabbing you stabbing you
anyway long live talavera!!!
anyway long live talavera!!!
telling your girlfriend "hold it down" while you take a knife to the puppygirl you brought home and watching her eagerly obey as you make the incision
what's a psycho butch gotta do to get some unhinged asks? ive even got anons on! not even any hate mail i can make fun of?
spice up the classic 'smother your twin sister with a pillow in her sleep' murder plot by riding her as you do it! the last thing she'll ever feel is her hips tightening in time with her lungs as she desperately struggles for two kinds of release that aren't coming along soon enough to matter
see, somno is fun because either you get to keep a secret to use as ammunition later, her waking up to your cock in her mouth and pretending she's still asleep, or her waking up and freaking out when you start speeding up
you know the fucked up thing about my OCD is it makes me too neurotic to actually dom anyone as hard as I dearly want to. because the second I have tangible power over someone in any sense I instantly start obsessing over ethics while my mind collapses into a singularity of stress, because i have proven tendencies to be a control freak when put in a position of power and so I actively devote all my energy to mitigate that instead of being horny like both me and whoever I'm domming want
i mean theres that and also its so easy to get unpersoned as a tgirl sadist hhhhhhhhffgh
meanwhile im stuck here fantasizing about getting my girlfriend so high she cant form words and railing her senseless while she age regresses too hard for words to form in her mind either
you know the fucked up thing about my OCD is it makes me too neurotic to actually dom anyone as hard as I dearly want to. because the second I have tangible power over someone in any sense I instantly start obsessing over ethics while my mind collapses into a singularity of stress, because i have proven tendencies to be a control freak when put in a position of power and so I actively devote all my energy to mitigate that instead of being horny like both me and whoever I'm domming want
i mean theres that and also its so easy to get unpersoned as a tgirl sadist hhhhhhhhffgh
seriously girlies send me asks i need literally anything else to think about besides getting jumped and the fucking drama im getting sucked into x.x
