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loucifersbitch · 10 months ago

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Buck walks through the automatic doors on autopilot and freezes. It hits him then that the last time he stood here, he was meeting Tommy for Maddie and Chim’s wedding. He had stood almost in this very spot and kissed his boyfriend who was covered in soot after fighting a wildfire all night and most of the day.

Now his boyfriend is somewhere else in the hospital, and Buck can’t kiss him or touch him, and his hands are shaking, and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

He turns toward the nearest bathroom and makes it into the stall just in time. He hasn’t eaten yet today, so he’s only throwing up bile mixed with panic and regret, but it’s just as bad.

It’s Hen who finds him, which -

“Why are you in the men’s room?” he asks, his voice weak and still creaky.

“I thought you might need a medical professional.” When Buck just looks at her, she continues with a sigh, “We could hear you in the waiting room. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” That’s a little embarrassing. “Sorry. And thanks.”

He gratefully accepts the wet paper towel she hands him to wipe his face.

“Any news yet?”

“Not yet. They took him back for surgery, and it’ll probably be a few more hours before we hear. Bobby and Eddie are in the waiting room if there’s an update. Chim went to pick up Jee from daycare, but he’ll be back later with Maddie.”

Then she produces a water bottle from somewhere behind her.

“How long have I been in here?” Buck asks. Hen seems way too prepared for it to have been just a few minutes.

“About half an hour,” she says. “Actually closer to 45 minutes now.”

“Right.”

So time is still moving awkwardly. He can’t get his bearings. He feels untethered, like he’ll never be on solid ground again.

“Why don’t we get you up and out to a chair?” Hen asks gently. She’s not treating him with kid gloves, but she is being more careful than necessary.

He decides to accept it for the time being. Maybe he does need the softness in her voice and the kindness in her eyes right now.

“Yeah - yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Hen.”

She smiles with something like relief and then stands, offering Buck a hand up.

The waiting room is blessedly empty save for their morose party. Buck tries to sit down, but before he can, Hen is pulling at his turnout coat, trying to yank it off his shoulders. She manhandles the coat off and tosses it to Eddie who adds it to the growing pile of coats on an unused chair in the corner. He’s too tired to fight it or question it, plus it was getting heavy with all of the rain still soaked into the fabric.

After that, Hen leaves to call Karen, and Ravi goes to get food for them all at a little cafe just up the road that they’ve come to know well.

Buck sits between Bobby and Eddie, almost a mockery of them standing at the crash site, holding him up. Best not to think about it.

Eddie holds a phone in his hands that Buck recognizes, but it’s not Eddie’s phone. The screen is cracked at the upper corner, spider-webbing its way diagonally down the length of the glass.

“Is that -?” He can’t even bring himself to ask.

“It’s Tommy’s, yeah. A nurse brought out the personal items he had on him a while ago. I was going to see if he has any family in his contacts, but I don’t know his passcode.”

“Oh,” Buck swallows roughly, “it’s um - it’s my birthday. But,” he continues before Eddie types the digits, “he doesn’t have any family in his contacts. At least, not anyone he would want here.”

“Ah,” is all Eddie says before handing the phone over to Buck. He pockets it and tries to think about anything other than his boyfriend a few rooms away getting his arm put back together.

He spends the next few minutes staring off into space thinking of nothing other than his boyfriend a few rooms away getting his arm put back together.

“He’s gonna be okay, Buck,” Eddie says into the heavy silence.

“Eddie’s right,” Bobby adds. “His arm will be fine, and the cuts and scrapes will heal. He’ll be back up in the sky before you know it.”

Buck feels his stomach churn threateningly at the thought, but he does his best to nod and smile.

When Ravi returns with food, Buck can’t handle the smell, let alone eating anything. But he tries. He can hear Tommy’s low voice in his head warning, “Evan, you need to eat something,” and that convinces him more than Eddie’s prodding.

When Karen shows up along with Chimney and Maddie, Buck feels the need to pull her and his sister off to the side.

He tries to keep his voice steady as he says, “I didn’t get it. Before, I mean. I didn’t get what it felt like to be on this side.” He’s oddly proud his voice only cracked once.

Maddie grabs his hand. “Buck, you’ve been on this side a lot of times. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the 118 isn’t very good at staying out of the hospital.”

He lets out a wet laugh.

“I think he means on the worried partner side of things,” Karen says. “You’ve never had someone you’re in a relationship with get injured like this before. Is that right?”

“Y-yeah.” He chuckles sardonically. “When I saw the helicopter - and his - his hand hanging out the window - I thought - he wasn’t moving, y’know? It took us so long to find him. We were too late. I thought -”

“You thought you’d lost him,” Maddie supplies. He can only nod. “Yep, welcome to the Worried Partners Club.”

“It sucks, but it’s worth it,” Karen adds.

Later, when Athena gets off shift, she arrives at the hospital bearing coffee for everyone. Buck nods gratefully when she hands him one, and the understanding look in her eyes nearly sets him off again. Although, he thinks he might be too dehydrated for tears by now.

“Family of Thomas Kinard?” a voice calls from the doors leading to the OR.

Everyone looks up, but Buck is on his feet before the nurse finishes saying Tommy’s name. He feels people behind him, and the nurse’s eyes widen a bit at everyone gathering around, but Buck’s glad for them.

“He’s out of surgery. Everything went well. He’ll be in recovery for about an hour, but as soon as we get him in a room, you can see him.”

The last part is directed toward Buck. Maybe he now looks like he’s part of the Worried Partners Club, but that’s fine. He’ll see Tommy soon. That’s what matters.

He catches the end of the nurse’s spiel as he says, “...still be under some sedation, so don’t expect much conversation.”

Buck nods, and the nurse leaves, and then Maddie is dragging him back to their chairs, handing him his coffee, and plopping down next to him to wait until they can see Tommy.

“He’s going to be insufferable,” Eddie says suddenly. He looks at Buck and says, “Remember that time he sprained his ankle while we were sparring? God, he was the worst patient.”

Buck genuinely laughs for the first time since they got the call. “He’s so stubborn, he wouldn’t even let me open doors for him. He just struggled to balance on his crutches so he could do it himself. He almost fell into the bushes twice outside the physical therapist’s office.”

Then everyone is laughing, a sense of lightness settling over Buck. He still doesn’t feel grounded or right necessarily, but laughing with his family helps.

They keep telling stories after that. Most of them are about Tommy, but some are stories or updates about kids or parents or a new recipe gone wrong. They all avoid the topic of work.

“Family of Thomas Kinard?” It’s a different nurse this time, but she doesn’t blink an eye at the number of family Tommy has. “He’s resting in his room. You can go back to see him, but we ask that you keep it to 4 or 5 people at a time. He’s still pretty groggy and probably won’t remember what happened right away, so keep conversation simple.” Then she turns and starts walking down the hallway, not waiting or looking back to see if anyone follows.

Buck grabs Chim and Eddie and gestures at Bobby to come, too. At the last second he grabs Hen’s hand, and the five of them hurry to catch up with the nurse together.

“Breathe, Buck,” Hen whispers.

He can’t. Not yet.

part 1

part 2

part 4

#911 abc #911 #911 on abc #the ally and the beast #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley #firepilot #jules writes

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crocomum · 25 days ago

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Pine for Constructicprowl if you wanted?

[ PINE ] sender fervently resists receiver's attempts to comfort / care for them.

Prowl’s door wings lifted incrementally higher as he searched for the miscreant who had hidden himself in the dangerously dilapidated tower. Its base floor, which had been unused by its Vosian owners, was mostly filled with debris and rubble that had fallen from the floors above. The outside light shown through from breaks in the tower’s glass exterior, exposing the rust coating its rebar reinforcements and the scorch marks from battles past that lay where a missile had gone through one of the exterior walls and failed to fully detonate.

His derma thinned into a frown as he finally spotted who he had spent the last four joors searching for.

Sitting directly underneath the Cybertronian sun’s exposed rays on a mound of intentionally stacked rubble was Bonecrusher.

He slowly approached the stack of concrete and whatever else had been used to construct the mound the mech had seated himself atop of; nearly tripping on a hidden iron pipe as he did. His target’s dower mood was confirmed when the mech failed to laugh or make an offer of assistance (an often-used guise for groping).

Reaching its base, he placed his servos on his hips and with monotone vocals called up to the mech, “You’re late for your shift by five joors and have failed to answer comms. If you do not respond with an acceptable justification I will have no choice but to report you derelict of duty.”

There was no response from the Constructicon.

His frown tightened. “While I understand your…dissatisfaction with the demolition bid results, your continued sulking has significantly hindered the…your teammates’ ability to perform their duties and has brought overall construction productivity within Vos down by thirty percent.”

Still nothing—highly unusual.

“Bonecrusher, respond,” he ordered. Again, silence. The lack of response from this specific Constructicon was odd even given his current morose state. As one of the more vocal Constructicons when delivering appreciations for the Praxian, an inordinate amount of it expressed toward the details of his frame, Bonecrusher remaining silent around him meant Prowl should begin treating the situation marginally more serious.

Petulant as the whole thing was.

Huffing through his olfactorate, Prowl began to climb the artificial mound. It was four times his height and had situated Bonecrusher directly in front of where the tower’s glass had been broken open all those millennia ago. While climbing, and through labored vents, he said, “Your proposal would have increased the project’s budget by sixty-three-point four two percent and would have extended its completion date by at least three orns.”

Again, he was ignored. Prowl grit his denta and continued climbing, his digits scraping against the broken bits of building he was using to pull himself up.

“There will be nothing gained from your continued refusal to work. We have already lost an entire cycle’s worth of progress because you are the job site’s foreman.”

Nothing. Prowl might have thrown something but were he to lean back the acquired amount to launch a rock at Bonecrusher’s oversized helm, he would have unbalanced himself and fallen. Then his tac-net flashed the probability of the tactic’s success and Prowl climbed higher. He was nearly at the top when, entirely intentionally, his hold over a sharp edge of rubble slipped and his pedes scrabbled against the loose debris below. His servos released their grip over the concrete and spun backwards, soon he would fall and—a purple servo shot out and gripped his wrist, effortlessly holding his entire frame up.

“You did that on purpose,” the Constructicon accused.

“And yet you still caught me.”

Bonecrusher’s visor brightened before dimming, then the mech turned his helm back toward the hole in the glass wall. But his hold over Prowl’s wrist never left and he pulled the Praxian the rest of the way up the rubble, depositing him next to where he was sitting. After releasing him, the green mech pulled his knees back up to his chassis, wrapping his arms around them mumbling, “I’ll always catch you.”

Prowl tilted his helm but otherwise gave no acknowledgement of the declaration. He was not moved by the promise and did not believe its validity. Once the Constructicons realized Prowl would not give them what they wished, himself, they would drop such pretenses. Always was an unconditional term and Prowl had spent his entire function sub-coding that all avowed affection was a steganography full of conditions.

“How long will this ridiculous behavior continue?” He inquired.

Bonecrusher snorted and said nothing. Prowl’s optics narrowed. “You are being obstinate. Refusing to work will not change the demolition proposal’s outcome.”

“You don’t get it,” Bonecrusher complained. “You Autobot types have never appreciated our kinds’ work.”

Prowl, not about to be lured into another philosophical debate about the ended war’s beginnings merely clipped, “Explain.”

The Constructicon remained silent, the only sound coming from the mech coming from the tapping of his digits against his arms. Prowl waited, knowing that Bonecrusher required more time to gather his thoughts when speaking at length. Unless that speech involved complimenting Prowl’s bumper or wings, that kind of commentary the mech could whip out racer fast.

He did not have to wait more than a klick.

“Demolition is more than setting up the cheapest explosives and waiting for the fastest boom—it’s art.” Bonecrusher gestured out toward the wreckage of Vos seen through the broken glass, his servos continuing to move as he spoke. “Say the building is the canvas, doesn’t have to be a building, but anyway. The way the building falls is like…like the stroke of a paintbrush, get it? The flash of colors, those reds and oranges, or any other, are chosen to match the finishing vision just right. That’s the paint. And what remains after they’re set off; after every piece falls right where it was planned? A perfect painting.”

While Prowl would not pretend to find beauty in destruction, he did understand the satisfaction that came from a meticulously calculated plan being executed perfectly. Though, during his tenure it had been a rarely experienced feeling. He had also never allowed himself to languish after a plan failed or was not followed correctly. Had he, his entire career as second-in-command of the Autobots would have been spent at his own personal pity party.

The Constructicon sighed in a way that caused Prowl’s frown to deepen. He had not realized the mech’s proposal being rejected had affected him in such an emotionally debilitating capacity. It was unlike Bonecrusher to allow rejection to affect his moods. Prowl’s had never; the mech bounced back after every harsh no like it had been a soft maybe.

Continuing, Bonecrusher lamented, “It’s beautiful and not a one of those bots calling the shots appreciates beauty the way we do.”

No, they did not and nothing he or Bonecrusher could say would convince them, even if Prowl had wanted to try. He did not. Their resources were too few and Prowl would not argue against a better plan on the grounds of beauty.

Those thoughts did nothing to stop him, fully aware he was setting himself up for something dreadful, from intoning, “Oh?”

Bonecrusher nodded, “How else could you explain them working next to a pretty thing like you and not making a move? Course I’d clock their jaw if they ever tried.”

Prowl huffed a small laugh before catching himself. Then, with less reprimanding and more genuinely curious vocals, he asked, “You can still be the project’s lead; must it be your project?”

“If I can’t do it right I’m not doing it. They can shove those scrap plans right up their tailpipe,” the mech grunted in response.

Bonecrusher’s dedication to perfection was not an admonishable quality, but it was an unproductive one. Prowl gripped his chin and began processing the dialogue that might produce the most favorable result for the demolition project…and its demolitionist. Only in the pursual productivity. Bonecrusher’s passion and despondency had no impact on his next words. None at all.

“You will draft a new proposal and once complete you will send it to me. I will review and return it should the plan go over budget or delay the project’s completion. This pattern will repeat until your…performance art falls within acceptable parameters.”

Bonecrusher’s jaw might have dropped had his facemask not been in the way. “But I thought the demolition bid had already been picked?”

“The current plan is undergoing final review before being implemented.” Prowl paused, pursing his derma before admitting, “I should be able to waylay the final decision until your new proposal is submitted. So you are aware, the time it takes for you to submit your drafts will not affect the demolition’s scheduled date. If you fail to provide a plan that falls within the due date you will not get the bid. Am I clear?”

Bonecrusher just stared at him wordlessly, and if it were capable, Prowl would have thought he saw the mech’s red visor blink. Eventually Bonecrusher broke out of whatever processor glitch had gripped him and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Prowl’s helm jerked back, and he let out an automatic, “No.”

“Hug?”

One of Prowl’s wings twitched. Bonecrusher would continue until he’d named the minimalist gesture against the Praxian’s smallest kibble. Rather than waste more time by allowing the exchange to unfold the standard route, he tipped his helm and acquiesced, “You may place one of your servos on my shoulder.”

There was no hesitation. A large servo clasped over the shoulder nearest the Constructicon. Bonecrusher then squeezed it gently before a thumb began rubbing back and forth over white plating in an uneven pattern. Prowl did not lean into the other’s touch, but his plating did not tense. Dangerous as it was, he no longer flinched when any of the Constructicons approached him, nor did he show visible revulsion after relenting to their pleads for physical contact.

It was a wasted effort he had found, as any visible reaction to their presence was enjoyed by the construction team.

His side of the bond was as tightly sealed off as ever, but he could still feel Bonecrusher’s spark pulse toward him. There was no begging in the Constructicon’s field, only an affection driven request. Prowl did not accept the request, though his denial was not vocalized. Instead, he loosened his hold on the bond just long enough to send back a quick no. It was the most he had allowed in deca-cycles.

Bonecrusher’s mask snapped back, and Prowl was met with a wide, crooked smile that should not have looked as handsome as it did. Because it didn’t. Prowl did not find Bonecrusher handsome. He had merely grown accustomed to the mech’s faceplate. So the quick flip his spark had done when that mask had pulled away made no rational sense. He would have to schedule a check-up once the demolition issue had been resolved. Spark related issues were a serious matter, after all.

A low engine rumble caused him to look away from Bonecrusher, turning his optics out toward the ruins of Vos. The collapsed towers, the rubble, and the glass that had scattered all over its roadless ground that glittered under the sun. The worst of the Constructicon’s emotions pulsed against him and he steeled his side of the bond against it.

No longer referencing the demolition project, he sighed, “You will tire of not getting what you want eventually.”

Bonecrusher’s grip switched from Prowl’s closest shoulder to his furthest, and he pulled the Praxian closer, their sides pressing against each other; the bulldozer’s engine thrum vibrating right down to the smaller mech’s protoform.

“Got what I want right here,” Bonecrusher responded, the warmth in his vocals seeping into Prowl’s plating and making it uncomfortably hot.

His spark did that strange flip in its casing again and Prowl bit his bottom derma. Perhaps he would schedule that next medical appointment sooner rather than later. The effect of the Constructicons on his spark as of late was…concerning.

#constructiprowl #idw prowl #idw bonecrusher #writing meme #my writ #Prowl my love please...

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rasoyas · 2 months ago

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9,12,14 & 15 for simblr ask game! 🫶🏻

wahh rachel i smooch thee!!! 💋 thank you for asking me these and answering the ones i sent you! i know i've said it before a million times, but i missed you so much and i'm so excited to see you posting again 🥰 juno and charlie are truly some of my favorite lil pixels i've ever seen! my answer for nine got long as hell so under thee cut it gooooes.

12. what is the last screenshot you took?

i put this above the cut for those who want to see it fdjkhfg take this unused cap from the latest modern day pipes & flux development

fun fact! flux was supposed to be cheated into a perpetual "fine" moodlet for the entirety of his existence, only popping colors when he was absolutely overrun by emotion. i'm going to be putting in a lil more effort moving forward, so he'll be in "fine" neutral white eyes from now on - this was originally meant to portray his stoicism, as he's a very dry, very matter-of-fact bot (which makes his crush on piper even cuter to me but i'm BIASED)

9. who is your favorite storytelling blog?

oh man okay just imagine me rubbin my hands together like a lil bug. @duusheen i'm of course incredibly biased toward because she took the barest bare bones of the man that was sterling atcliffe and turned him into one of the most captivating characters i've ever seen. i molded the clay but she is the one who breathed LIFE into that man, and i'm so so fond of everything she's done. @cinamun is an absolute foundational pillar of this community and story simblr would be nowhere near the place it is now without her, i swear by it: the drakes have been through every up and down and in-between that you can imagine, and i have enjoyed lapping up every bit of it. the developments in @bunnithechubs' stories and gameplay cannot be denied, and @elderwisp is actively writing a literal beautiful magnum opus of a novel that has captivated me heart and soul - the character studies between the both of them should be lofted in a museum i swear. special mentions to brandi @softpine and my lovely jade @stinkrascal, whose stories are so alive in their heads and hearts that they shine through the screen and i cannot imagine characters i would carry so gently in my hands but theirs and everyone else's. there is serious and real talent in this community, from tahj @fallstaticexit's absolutely innovative and seriously inspiring "h.a.g.s." comic (a literal comic y'all like CLICK THOSE READ MORES they do NOT disappoint) with so much character depth (and absolutely the saga of Nancy Landgraab, Most Tortured Lesbian) to @pixelatedblues's absolutely gorgeous and wonderfully moody "hana" sagas. becca @rebouks gave us some of the most intriguing and well-fleshed out characters i have ever seen, and the entire storyline of "somnium" had me in a regular chokehold every week. from cookie's kidnapping to oscar's redemption arc to the culmination of everyone's fates, i could not be prouder of what becca has accomplished with her characters and her story - i'm literally not even saying enough to put into words how strongly i feel about what an amazing job she's done!

i cannot say it enough - we are a small corner of this site, but there is real and serious talent here. i haven't even made mention of like a damn IOTA of the very real capability and creative genius we have on simblr. do you know how many times i wanted to scream and shake people's shoulders over developments in @warmsol or @thebramblewood's stories? @neishroom's talent belongs far beyond the bounds of simblr and that goes for everyone here - hell, @ophernelia is directing and producing, BY HERSELF, a series that could straight-up pop up on my netflix right now and bitch i would double thumbs-up that shit so fast. special mentions for @flovoid and @virsancte, who regularly give us glimpses into LITERAL MOVIES that blossom in their heads and grace us with their impeccable abilities to somehow capture that absolute magnificence in this piece of shit game from 2015. you are all so, so talented - and if you're reading this and i didn't mention you, I MEANT TO AND I'M SORRY I DRANK A WHISKEY COKE 🙏 ALSO my olli olli oxenfree @lucidicer quite literally crafted the most aesthetique and brutal world for his characters and i could lift them all above my head in true adoration, the work and love he pours into the narratives and worlds of his characters is a feat in and of itself, and then??? he pops out the most artful renders you'll ever god damn see. blood on the snow bro that's all i gotta sAYYY. also YOUUUU rachel your balance between gp and story posts with the hollands is a literal inspiration, i ran out of steam but my god do i love everything you do! eli and charlie’s tumultuous and fantastically handled past is the reason their love shines so brightly now and you handled it beautifully!! THEY HAVE KIIIDS MAN LIKE 😭 bro i also forgot while making a specific mental note to mention kayley @simswoon because i’m a BUZZED DINGUS but seriously seriously give her all the laurels man bc her growth from gen to gen of her struck by love legacy has warmed my heart to the bone.

14. who is your current favorite sim?

i can't even lie to you it's pipeeeeeer 😭 she's genuinely just the legitimately cutest sim i've ever made: i used dallas' wonderful cartoony face as a base for her, and she had such a bare character concept when i made her that growing her as an OC has been so much fun. flux is much more established in my head, and i'm so so fond of him and his story just developed even more, but piper is... WELL LOOK AT HER SHE'S PRECIOUS

truthfully, daniel taylor from my ancient bachelor challenge and my dallas krueger will always have the "lord of the rings" spot in my heart (ie. i can say i have a favorite movie but LOTR trumps them all type beat) and i can't wait to reintroduce daniel and his husbands as a part of piper and flux's story 😭

15. who is your current favorite sim that is not by you?

y'all omg this is torture 😭 i will forgor so i'm only gonna do one and nobody be mad at me PLEEEEEEEEASE 🙏 but genuinely one of my favorite sims and the one i check up on quite a bit has got to be .... UH.... THERE'S A LOT I'M LITERALLY FROZEN IN CHOICE ANALYSIS fdjkhg can my big ass answer for favorite story blog stand as a testament to the love i have for all your simmies pleek 🙏

#you are all my friends and you are all so talented and i have abt enough space after knowing how many pumps of what go into a damn venti #or grande to check blogs dfkjhfjgk #pls i definitely forgot people i'm SORRYYYY 🧎‍♀️#simblr ask game #alxandergoth #ask

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ranticore · 1 year ago

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visored longwing harpies & the hall of faces

I did say there was no exclusive global culture on Siren shared by humans of a certain body type, and I lied, because there is One.

The early settlers on Siren were the unaltered human workforce of a certain megacorporation. While an almost unlimited budget was poured into the dodgy gene programs, since that was why they chose to settle a planet so far out of the reach of The Authorities, everything else was done pretty cheaply, including the settling itself. In order to map out their new home planet, incredibly cheap mass-produced aircraft were used by pilots. These aircraft could be made quickly and easily at the settlement site because they lacked a flight computer or any real sensors - or any equipment at all in the cockpit. Rather than a multitude of different equipment loadouts on an aircraft that would take time and effort to swap out or maintain, the pilots instead used these visors which were universally compatible with the one-size-fits-all aircraft. It's kind of like how it's easier to just carry a phone around with a calculator app than it is to carry a phone and a calculator, even if the phone app calculator experience sucks by comparison.

The visors were the real expensive kit, each custom built to a pilot's exact needs and flight style, and they were built to last. the aircraft fell apart in the following centuries but the visors remained, hyperlight plastic powered by the planet's native star, and something interesting happened. The remains of the first settlement were largely inaccessible to anyone but longwing harpies, and these harpies had the right head shape to fit the visors. Many of the pilots had filled their visors with video and photo files from home, from Earth, like a worker decorating his cubicle with photos of his family. Some had been decorated on the outside, as well, resembling birds. The harpies that found the visors obviously tried to use them. They found themselves experiencing visions of strange worlds, recordings of long-dead pilots and ATC, and found that each visor can interface with every other one, no matter how far apart. Each visor came with its own callsign, its own name, which has remained for thousands of years - and because of this, each visor is considered by the cultures of Siren to be a named character with a distinct personality (eg. the swan visor was cygnus2, it is known now as Signastoo)

I keep posting the map and it needs to be redrawn but essentially every red triangle is an ancient telecomm tower. These became the only remaining waypoints on the visors' HUD and mapping software, meaning that 1. a true global culture could emerge, with longwings gathering at these sites, and 2. visored longwings became the gold standard for navigation on Siren. In a world that is basically just water, that's a big deal.

There exist only a few thousand visors (about 3k I'd say). The unused visors are kept in the Hall of Faces, the ancient aviation bay at the first settlement in West. Because of how water levels and land structures have changed over the years, this building exists on a mesa that rises another few thousand feet out of the water, with sheer sides, and is utterly inaccessible to anyone but a longwing harpy. When a visored harpy dies, the visor is returned here. If you want to claim a visor, you need to hold an interview with one of the elders at the site, who will test you rigorously to see if you can inhabit the character of one of the visors. If not, too bad. If you do get it, it's yours until either you die or you do something considered 'out of character' for the wearer of that particular visor. It is DEEPLY discouraged to steal a visor off anyone because it would be largely impossible, given how they all can communicate (imagine a gigantic worldwide discord server where the location & name of every person is known at all times... the drama is likely insane but at least if someone steals a visor, everyone will know about it)

not every longwing desires a visor because it comes with a lot of responsibility alongside its automatic prestige, and you can't really give it up once you have it. also there's always the possibility of being diagnosed with a super annoying, glitchy, or hated visor character lol. but among the roughly 2700 visored harpies on Siren there does exist a global culture exclusive to them. they chat to one another long-distance, engage in closed-practice ceremonies where they all get high and look at videos of Earth, and essentially become a class outside the mundanity of normal life on Siren. to the rest of the population, they basically become telepathic wizards

Terwyef's visor (first pic) is called Scrappercharlee and is one of the more common models, tho it has been decorated over the years with extra bits. Scrappercharlee is a bit busted and half the HUD is missing. Miakef's visor (second pic) Signastoo is one of the very fancy and well-known ones, it's shaped like a swan's head and likely belonged to a high-ranking pilot who could afford a bit of frippery and showmanship back in the day. Birds do not exist on Siren and harpies are mammals so the swan itself is symbolically meaningless, but the bird-style visors introduce the idea of 'a bird' in the abstract, and this has been imbued with its own form of meaning by harpies.

#setting: siren

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koolades-world · 1 year ago

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one bed troupe w/ Beel

a/n if this makes little to no sense it's because i'm writing this while tired lol

It was yet another day of fun. Everything had been perfect up until the end of that day. After hearing you’d never been before, Beel immediately vowed to take you camping. Like the real deal camping. He spent at least an hour trying to pick the best spot to take you, and while he was usually very willing to take others with him on these kinds of expeditions, he didn't allow anyone else except his twin to come along, who surprisingly said no. Usually, he would say yes, to get away from Lucifer and to enjoy the night sky, but it appeared as if he had something up his sleeve. Strange, but not too out of character for him. You left for your trip shortly after, and most everything had gone smoothly.

That morning, you’d awoken to the sound of Beel’s stomach from outside your tent, signaling it was time to make breakfast. After a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, Beel decided it was finally time to take you kayaking on the nearby river. You opted to spend a little time enjoying the nature in a hammock he’d set up while he got everything you needed and mapped your route and fell asleep in it. When he came back from getting the two kayaks, he accidentally hit your and flipped you out of the hammock. After the initial confusion had ended, you both got a laugh out of it.

The kayaking down the river was also loads of fun. The scenery was very pretty and you saw several kinds of birds that you hadn’t seen from your camp site. Since you were each in your own vessel, once you got tired, all you had to do was tether yourself to Beel’s, and he towed you along behind him. Originally, you’d planned to have just one tandem for the both of you, but you figured you’d be basically up in the air with how uneven then weight distribution would be. So, he packed a length of rope to tether you to him if you needed a break, which you did. The scenery was very pretty, and just laying back and enjoying the tree coverage was enough for you.

However, upon arriving back, you discovered something had happened to your campsite. Your tent, and a couple things near it had been basically crushed by a large branch you'd set up under on purpose. You had both just been sitting in that very branch yesterday, and it seemed fine. The things outside the tent were alright, and so were a couple things inside. But unfortunately the two most important things were damaged: your tent itself, and your sleeping bag. An offshoot of the large branch had punctured both of your things, making them unusable until you could get them fixed, if possible. You shuddered thinking about what may have happened to you if you were inside the tent when that fell. Beel seemed to have the same thought, as he immediately proposed moving his tent to a space with no tree coverage, and that he'd share it with you.

After working together to move the remaining intact tent and packing up yours as best as possible, you spent the rest of the day as normal. You did another hike that afternoon, and enjoyed dinner together, before having to revisit the sleeping situation.

"You can change inside the tent. I'll turn around." Beel already had his back to you as he began packing up your things from your meal. Thankfully, your bag of things, including your clothes was alright, albeit a little dirty.

"Thanks, Beel." You made your way into his tent, where he'd set it back up the way he had it before you'd moved it together. It was pretty tidy. You had already placed your bag next to his. You opened it and quickly changed into your sleep clothing. For a moment, you lingered in the tent. While you'd only given it a little thought, now the idea was really sinking in: you'd have to share that sleeping bag with Beel. Not that you were opposed to the idea, as the two of you had slept in the same room before, and he only snored a little. The mere thought of being that close to him for that amount of time flustered you. After all, you'd been given a few piggyback rides over the course of your trip together, and that was more than enough proof that he felt as chiseled as he looked. Knowing he needed your help cleaning up for the night, you abandoned that thought temporarily.

"I'm done. Feel free to head in. I can finish putting out the fire." You smiled at him.

"Thanks. I'll be quick." He ducked into the tent you'd just felt, leaving you alone in the night to contemplate the day, and how misfortunate you'd been. As unlucky as that fallen branch may had been, maybe it was your blessing in disguise. While you now needed some way to get it repaired, you now got to spend the rest of the trip snuggled up with the best hugger you'd ever met nightly. Looking on the bright side was all you could do.

Soon enough, it was time to head to bed. You headed into the tent, zipping it shut. It felt much smaller when the both of you were in it at the same time. You weren't really sure what to do, so you just hovered by the exit, looking anywhere but the sleeping bag. Beel seemed to have no problem, and headed right over to it. After sliding it, he held it open with one arm.

"Here, Mc. Are you coming?" After he said this to you, you snapped out of your daze, and, while a little apprehensive, you got in with him. Your bodies were flush to each other, being forced to make eye contact the way you were laying. The sleeping bag was made for his height, so your feet didn't reach the bottom like he did. You stared at each other in silence for a moment. Not really knowing what to do with your arms, you tucked both of them under your head to act as a pillow. You were kind of afraid you'd start snuggling him in the middle of the night. Beel, on the other hand, seemed like he had no such fear, and put both of his arms around you.

"So, anything you have planned for tomorrow for us?" You tried your best to break the silence and to make things less awkward. That effort was mostly for you, since Beel seemed totally comfortable. It was like, to him, this was normal.

"Well, since we've done a few hikes already, and you seemed fine, I figured we could hike one of the harder trails up the nearby mountain. We have to pass through a small town on the way there, so we can stop at a restaurant." You began to laugh as you felt his stomach grumble. Your laughing made him smile. In that moment, the entire situation seemed like something that happened before a million times, and this was part of your nightly routine.

"Alright. Sounds good to me. Well, good night. Thanks for letting me share with you." You deemed going to sleep would help you escape the initial awkwardness of this situation, so you shut your eyes. You were pretty tired anyways. Soon enough, the both of you were asleep.

As he usually did, Beel awoke in the middle of the night, hungry. However, he remembered pretty quickly he wasn't alone that night. Sometimes, he wandered into your room after he was finished raiding the fridge, but it felt so much more warm and welcoming to wake up in a warm bed. Well, sleeping bag. Despite initially laying on your arms, they had found their way onto him and had intertwined your legs together. Your head was pressed into his neck, one arm wrapped around his torso, one underneath him somehow. He rolled the both of you over so you were on top of him to take any pressure off of your limbs. The way you shifted after he rolled caused you to snuggle him more.

Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry anymore. It was like his hunger had finally been satiated for once in his life. He hardly remembered the feeling it'd been that long. The sight of you fast sleep, slightly smiling against his skin was more than enough for him and filled him with something he couldn't quite explain.

With the warm, fuzzy feeling in mind, he was able to drift back to sleep. Maybe he needed to start doing this more often.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me beel #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #oneshot #gn reader

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banrionceallach · 1 year ago

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Hey EU tumblr, there's some other elections pretty soon

I know that the EU MEP elections probably seem boring in comparison to 'gestures to US/UK/etc' All That, but please do vote in them if you're eligible.

It's really important right now to make sure the right-wing fascist leaning bastards get the smallest percentage of the vote possible. The EU has problems, but a lot of genuinely good legislation comes out of it and we need to protect that.

There's not going to be a perfect candidate, so just go the harm reduction route. i.e. find the least worst and vote for them, to cancel out your racist Insert-Relative-Here's vote for the MEP's who are busy being openly fascist.

The EU elections are from taking place from 6th- 9th June, and I cannot stress enough that it really is important to vote. Again, a vote for Candidate Meh Boring is not approval of their policies, it is a vote against Candidate Racist Homophobe.

Remember every time the US users in particular on this site talk about something horrifying that is a fact of daily life in the USA and then end the post with some version of 'But they don't have to put up with that in Europe because of some Recent Vaguely Sensible Legislation by the EU parliament'?

Right.

That's why you're voting. It's a civic duty. Part of living in a society. Look on it the way you would basic housekeeping.

From 6th - 9th June we are all helping to do a metaphorical deep-clean of the bathroom. It won't produce spectacular immediate changes in our lives, but it will help stop a potentially dangerous mold infestation.

Voting is one tool in the box of democracy. Don't let it sit unused, The people who vote for Candidate Racist Homophobe won't.

Bloody well vote.

EU Voting Dates:

Netherlands votes on 6th June

Ireland votes on 7th June

Czech Republic votes 7th/8th June

Everyone else in the EU votes on the 9th June.

#eu elections #eu politics #boring but necessary #we are cleaning the bathroom #made this it's own post #please reblog for EU followers

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evilnadianova · 10 months ago

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Is there any merch for your visual novels? Just something like a sticker or a shirt. Just wondering because I would love to purchase one if there was

kinda but na. its kinda difficult to figure out how to set it all up. esp with when selling nsfw stuff and every site and their mom wants to kill me for making girldick games. but also most on demand printing services just routinely get worse year by year so you cant even trust reviews and just have to trial and error yourself and i don't want to be sending my fans garbo shirts that dissolve the print in like 2 trips to the washing machine,. like i had a teespring store we put doomsay dreamgirl tanktops in and previously my partners old merch years before that idk lets say 6 years ago but nowadays the tanktops i ordered for myself were just SOOOO bad i feel embarrassed that someone else would have paid money for them.

theyre not unusable or anything... but its just sad that the print starts fading so fast. i love wearing mine and don't give a shit if I'm taking selfies with a faded tank design.. i mean i originally put the thing up on the store just to buy and wear it myself so

home printing stuff is like just insane hassle i am not prepared to face ( also assume very expensive to even start doing? idk. even if it wasn't i wouldn't do it)

its just a lot of effort ive been just so busy with irl stuff recently and also like dunno i do have an idea for a chandra shirt design i wanna do eventually one day hopefully

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hold-him-down · 1 year ago

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Belleview Chapter Two: Triage

Notes: Don't believe anything I say about medicine, politics, or the workings of government agencies.

Belleview: Chapter 1

TW: Institutionalized slavery, a little tiny bit heavy on the exposition

✥ ✥ ✥

As far as ‘day one’s go, Lincoln thinks, it could have been worse. That is the best he can offer himself now. He looks down at his hands, which feel, no matter how many times he scrubs them, as if they are still covered in the blood, both metaphorical and physical, of the residents. They did not ask for his help, and by most metrics do not seem to want his help, and yet still, he is here. Helping? It weighs heavily on him. His hands shake, a product of adrenaline and exhaustion and, maybe, partly of desperation for some kind of emotional release.

Organizing the volunteers had gone smoothly enough. He had four doctors, eight nurses, and fifteen good samaritans (and a list of hundreds of others who were ready to step in if more help was needed), all eager to find their place in this beautiful hellscape.

After the former handler, Jared, was escorted to a waiting police car, Lincoln took a deep breath and rounded up the crew. The de facto Commissioner for the splintered Department of Labor Services in Florida, once responsible for the privatization and trafficking of low-level criminals and now responsible for sorting out the undoing of that system itself, estimated that there would be additional guidance available within two weeks and, between him and Lincoln, suspected that ultimately the residents would be placed in a sort of ‘foster’ situation, where they would be pseudo-adopted into the homes of long time opposers of the system while they accessed medical care and were slowly reintegrated. It was all a lot to stomach, and for his part, Lincoln tried not to look too closely. It was clear that the residents here all, at minimum, required some degree of inpatient medical treatment, and he was qualified to provide that, if nothing else.

Lincoln had been contracted for four weeks, with the soft warning that it would likely extend beyond that, and the sincere gratitude of the Commissioner as well as a slew of other high ranking officials. His work is important, he was told countless times. It’ll be a hard job, but they can think of no better hands than his to leave the care of these men in.

After accepting the position, Lincoln began forming something of a plan. He was given a budget and a list of items already at the site. He was sent lists of hundreds and hundreds of doctors, nurses, cooks, mechanics, police officers, former handlers, teachers… anything he could think of, he had available to him. People from across the country offered their support in any way they could. He selected his team, his backup team, and held a list of other local residents that he could rely on for support.

The initial team was small but mighty, fierce in their dedication to help. Four doctors. Five, including him. Twenty-one residents (with only twenty files, but that was for another day). Eight nurses. Fifteen volunteers. Enough for every resident to receive medical attention, with extra volunteers to sort out groceries and clothing and removal of the evidence of what had happened here, with extras to help keep everything flowing.

It was experimental, and no one knew exactly what it would look like. But this team was ready to throw themselves wholly into early recompense and that was all he needed. They would work the rest out as they went.

✥ ✥ ✥

The volunteers look to him for guidance as he enters the conference room and, given that he has run through his plan a hundred times in his head by now, he wastes no time in laying out the loose threads of what he is calling the ‘plan.’ There are people working throughout the building, sealing off some unused wings, repurposing others. They are irrelevant to what Lincoln is doing and have no impact on the residents he now oversees. They will not enter this unit, and his group will not be asked to leave. It does not matter what happens beyond the walls of C-wing anymore.

There are two empty rooms at the end of the longest, main corridor, that were previously used for something adjacent to medical exams. This is not exactly the highest priority, but the easiest to get started.

“Yang, Richmond, Jacoby, and Gilman,” Lincoln says, scanning the volunteers as people identify themselves. He hands them each a sheet of paper with a list of items that each room should have. “A truck should be arriving within the next thirty minutes,” he continues. “Start clearing out the exam rooms of anything not on this list, sanitize the hell out of them, and then work with the delivery people to get them set up. Use the south entrance so no one is wandering the halls. They’ll need to be fully functional by tomorrow at the latest.” The volunteers take to task quickly, and Lincoln moves to the next on his list.

“DeLuca and Dhar,” he says next. “Groceries were delivered earlier, let’s get everything put away. There was a large break room for the handlers here,” he says, as he points to the map on the tablet, “but no cafeteria. To the extent possible, clear it out. There are bins for anything that you find that looks remotely criminal. We’ve been asked to refrain from discarding the personal effects of the handlers or anything that might need to be reviewed down the line. Everything can go into storage, someone will come pick it up at some point this evening.”

They exit, and Lincoln is left standing with the medical staff and a small handful of remaining volunteers. He assigns four to scrubbing the common areas of all traces of abuse, the hope being that the residents can eventually comfortably navigate the wing without fear of encountering excessive reminders of their own suffering.

“We’re going to start triaging,” he says to the medical team. “We have more volunteers ready if we need them, but I am concerned about overwhelming the residents with too much…” He gestures, and is met with nods and muted agreements. “Just, with too much.”

The residents are all, as of this moment, still locked in their rooms. Every doctor has already been assigned a caseload, the files sent out the day before, with each resident grouped first based on the severity of their need for medical attention, and second on their proximity to one another. The most severe cases get seen by the doctors first, with the nurses doing preliminary exams on the less severe cases and making modifications to the plan as needed.

Lincoln expects four residents to require the most substantial medical support. The local hospital is prepared to provide aid in diagnostic testing, scans, or large scale inpatient procedures in the event that those needed, but all units are overwhelmed by the sudden influx of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people who require care and are in the first wave of full release.

Triage first, he reminds himself. Each of them has four or five men total to see, and he watches as they make their own plans with the nurses on their team.

Lincoln has one file and two patients. River London, a twenty-four year old man who has been in the system for three years and in Belleview for two of those, and “Felix,” whose file is uniquely absent. The handler told him that Felix had come to Belleview a year prior, and that he wasn’t sure if the handlers were ever told his real name, but if they were, no one remembered it. They estimated his age to be around twenty-two, and the information available was all from the past year. The DOH was working to trace his origins but, to Lincoln’s understanding, his file had been sealed when he was assigned to Belleview, and unsealing it was low in the list of priorities.

“I’m Philip,” the nurse who stands next to him says, holding out his hand. “Reed. I came down from Maryland, I’ve been working with the DoLS there to help organize and staff pop-up clinics in underdeveloped cities with heavy influxes of former workers for the last couple years.”

Lincoln nods and shakes his hand. “Lincoln Prescott,” he says. He doesn’t offer any details beyond that, although Philip’s expectant gaze lingers for a moment too long.

“Did you pick the short straw or volunteer for this?” he asks as Lincoln grabs the lone file from the table.

“A little of both, I guess,” Lincoln responds, flipping open River’s file.

The good news, he thinks, is that there are ample state of the art medical supplies littered throughout the unit already. All of the volunteers brought their own supplies as well, but there is a fully stocked pharmacy and most basic supplies already in house. The bad news is that he is not one hundred percent sure where the volunteers are at with sorting through everything, and if he has to wade through sixty years worth of whips, chains, shock collars, restraints, or whatever other torture devices live within these walls, he might have a nervous breakdown before he even gets started.

The volunteers disperse, the remaining extras assigned out to sorting deliveries and, hopefully, removing any obvious remnants of what this building used to stand for.

Lincoln closes his eyes and talks himself through what the next hour will look like. Minimally, he reassures himself, he has an amazing team and the residents are in good hands. They will be given food, blankets, phones or tablets, books. They will be treated with kindness. They did not ask for their help and he will likely be met with resistance, but it is a consequence of years or abuse, and his intent here is to help. There is a voice, soft but persistent in the back of his mind, that keeps him grounded in the reality that, at least on some level, he will be acting as a captor in a new kind of prison for these men.

If he is met with resistance, he reminds himself now, he will modify his course. He will act as a stepping stone toward freedom and that is all he can do right now. His job today, within the walls of the workers’ rooms, is straightforward. When he’s done talking himself down, he stands straighter, shoves the file into his bag, and makes way to 19-C.

✥ ✥ ✥

Belleview Taglist:

@pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings @pirefyrelight @i-eat-worlds

@taterswhump @squishablesunbeam @inpainandsuffering @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

#belleview #institutionalized slavery

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fagrance · 11 months ago

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Dragon Quest IX Gadabout?

I was checking out the Dragon Quest Island website because I'd love to visit irl someday when I scrolled down and came across the following image on the site:

The art here represents vocations you and your party can choose from for the theme park activities (left to right); warrior, martial artist, thief, mage, and 'the newly introduced' "playboy" in the bottom right (I believe "playboy" is the same as jesters/gadabouts, the jokester-clown vocation from DQIII).

This art specifically was made for Dragon Quest IX. The art of the warriors, martial artists, thieves and mages all represent the in-game vocation-specific outfits, and to date is some of the highest-quality images of Dragon Quest vocations. These first four classes were available to play as in Dragon Quest IX and their artwork was featured in the 25th Anniversary Dragon Quest Illustrations, but the artwork of the 'playboy' is nowhere to be seen, including online besides the DQ Island website.

Thing is, the DQIX section of the art book has a couple mistakes, and some pieces of promotional material are left out. Not many, but enough that I noticed. It seemed neither Square Enix nor Akira Toriyama could remember much about DQIX when this book was made. The book even had a few designs for unused vocation-specific outfits. It got me wondering if these 'playboy' outfits were ever designed before DQ Island introduced them, or if they were originally a rejected concept from before. If they *were* made for DQIX originally, why wouldn't they be mentioned literally anywhere else? And if they weren't, why did they use the DQIX model/style? Because the other four classes were already designed? (probably)

I can't find anything that would imply DQIX was supposed to have more vacations or Gadabouts at all, so I have no clue. Have you guys come across anything that could prove or disprove my theory?

#dq #dqix #dq9 #dragon quest #dragon quest ix #dragon quest 9 #dragon quest island #akira toriyama

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eightglass · 5 months ago

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just switched to firefox

any extensions you’d recommend?

Eyy!!! I'm so happy for you!!!

Some of the main ones I use:

Ublock Origin, obviously

Scroll Anywhere! It's super useful, I set it so I can scroll by holding right-click and dragging!

Enhancer for YouTube, really good bunch of features

Search by Image, lets you right-click an image and reverse search it!

Don't Accept Webp, makes pesky .webp images be actual formats instead

I still don't care about cookies

Xkit Rewritten, a ton of really nice quality of life features for Tumblr!! This site would be unusable to me without it

WebToEpub, it can usually take a site that's a book and turn it into a .epub to put on a reader, like fics on royalroad or spacebattles or whatever. I don't use it often, but it's great

Z-lib finder, it'll find an active domain of the z-library (clicking that link will install it right away)

Wayback Machine! If a website is dead, you might be able to find a backup here!

Toggle Fonts is just a shortcut to the "let sites choose their own fonts" button deep in the settings; usually I want to force sites to use noto sans, but if I do want to see actual fonts then it's nice to have a quick toggle

Tampermonkey is great if you want to do freaky stuff with scripts (like this musescore downloader!)

I have Bypass Paywalls Clean installed, but I don't know if/how well it works, I don't really encounter paywalls

Anything else you wanna know?

#firefox #computers

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arnesia · 8 months ago

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god this site is just completely unusable on desktop now. 1) not immediately apparent whether something is an original post or a reblog, 2) no way to tell who individual contributors on a reblog chain are, and 3) no way to tell who op is without digging through "view last reblogs" forever, or else trying to dig through the notes on the post. why the fuck would they do this. thank god i have bsky as an outlet on desktop now bc tumblr is only usable on mobile atm

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imptwins · 1 year ago

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ALRIGHT, no more messing around I suppose.

Over the last twelve months my close friend @kimberlyeab and myself have been the targets of sustained harassment by a series of "anti-ship" accounts, that may or may not be the same person, that I am not going to name up here because I do not want to give them any more traffic than necessary. This is over some of the content we make, 18+ fiction revolving around Undertale and Deltarune, and sometimes involving dark kinks. I'm going to ask you to put aside whether you think this is immoral for the moment.

Under the break below is what I wrote a few hours ago. Things have since escalated. Both myself and Kim have been targeted by email bombs on our business emails, services/bots that spam your email address with garbage signups, rendering your email address completely unusable. At worst, this can overwhelm your email service so much that your account is unable to process new emails and is eventually disabled by the provider. I'm still getting bursts of activity after over 200 emails, so I'm not sure if it's dying down, or if it's so backlogged that this is what's happening.

This is literally a crime, by the way. It's classified as cyber abuse.

On top of this, whoever has done this has access to personal information. A full legal name, first and last, was used in several of the signups, so they are either implicitly threatening to doxx us, or simply flexing that they could. Likewise a crime.

Additionally, this seems well coordinated, but there are no suspicious recent results for us in The Usual Places. This makes me believe this person is probably using some foul back-alley site like KF to organize this. I don't think the legal name in question could have been acquired by one person, it's extremely difficult to trace back.

tl;dr: whoever is doing this knows their way around the internet and is actively dangerous, they are severely impeding our lives and have the potential to become incredibly, incredibly dangerous.

Why am I posting this? Not really to get those accounts in trouble (although you should absolutely stay the hell away from them, and severely scrutinize anything they leave a mark on). I don't think they'll be punished, nor would it help since they constantly block evade, and at this point I don't think this recent online abuse crap is actually them, just someone attaching themself to their crusade. Though I'm not sure.

What I want to illustrate is how these kind of callout posts feed into targeted harassment of minorities. This is just another reason why things that make you uncomfortable should be dealt with by curating your experience using tags and blacklists and blocks, rather than trying to assign moral value to what people make. If my content makes you that uncomfortable I *actively encourage* you to block me.

It doesn't matter whether you personally dislike minorities or not, or whether you're subconsciously targeting them, or whatever. Someone else who does will latch on. That person who writes nothing but callout posts, yet they're always for small trans creators who make some 'icky stuff' and never for big-name bigots who parade their bigotry out in the open; is it because they're a sock puppet of an overt reactionary, or just because they want to feel some control over their life so they subconsciously focus on vulnerable people?

Simple: you can't know.

These people are the dangerous ones. Not people who just make content, properly tag it, and mind their own business. But these people, obsessed with ruining other people, with finding 'evil' in the world so that they can purge it? You can find their name below if you really want, and literally their entire blog is just constant callouts, broadcasting people doing callouts, trying to network with other people who do callouts. This is why these people were originally called 'antifans', their entire fandom presence is centered around tearing other people to shreds.

Do your due diligence and fact-check, before you broadcast that someone in your fandom did something awful. Make sure they actually hurt someone. I know mega-bastards will use 'you can't prove it' as an excuse, but actually analyze it a bit. It's almost always painfully obvious, I know, I spent years doing antifascism. And more than anything else, neither entertain, nor broadcast, nor embolden the kind of people who dedicate their entire existences on the internet to lateral abuse. Not just these particular ones, but ANYONE who dedicates their life to this online torch-waving garbage over fictional content. Whether they're a reactionary or just projecting trauma, whether they actually hate x y or z minority or they just happen to always go for the most vulnerable people, whether the person they're targeting makes content that makes you feel very icky and gross or not, these self-ordained Crusaders are consistently, unquestionably, dangerous.

That's one page out of 4. Also some of them have between 10 and 80 updates in the one email from the same address. There's about 300 emails all up. And there's zero reason they can't do this again.

===

Anyway. The accounts in question are @snowcollecter/@brieffamilycat/@krispy-chicken-shipping/@bonniehbunny. First two are definitely them, I highly suspect the latter two are their main, or at the very least someone who constantly signal boosts them. We have endured over 12 months of:

calling for brigades against us, and at least 4 other people

block dodging to constantly screenshot and reference our posts

literal libel by accusing us of grooming a child despite screenshots, as well as both statements and direct requests to stop by both the supposed groomed child and their actual friends who witnessed all interactions we had

spamming anon asks to literally every single person that they can find who we ever interact with

using tiktok cen)sor)ship nonsense to get past peoples' blacklists and force this stuff in front of them

using no less than 3 confirmed alts with about 5 more extremely suspicious accounts in attempts to artificially broadcast themself and again evade blocks (when the original account itself is transparently an alt too)

joining multiple random discords to try to shove this stuff in peoples' faces

now spamming Kim's business email at signup services

probably being behind the attempts to doxx and raid us last year on a certain hate-monger website, since the signup spam demonstrates they're cool with bog standard channer troll tactics

They also pretty tellingly refused to even talk to this minor we supposedly groomed, who attempted to tell them personally that we hadn't done the shit they claim we did. You'd think someone who is this caught up about the safety of minors in fandom spaces would jump at the chance to help this kid, to tell them not to talk to us and get them away from us, to convince them to stay away? No, they said 'I don't talk to minors' (this is demonstrably untrue: their discord accounts are in many all-ages spaces) and immediately blocked them.

Of course. Because this was never about the safety of minors. Flip a coin; if it's heads, they're a far-right sock puppet who just knows they can use the 'think of the children' angle to drive a wedge into queer communities. If it's tails, they're just a routine runt who's projecting their lack of ability to do anything about the ACTUAL assholes of this world onto other queer people, wailing and flailing and doing anything they can to have some influence despite getting 3 notes on almost everything they ever post. Hence the anon asks, and Discord spam, and blacklist/block evading. If they can't have a platform - because anyone who looks at their garbage for more than a month at most sees how absolutely deranged they are - they'll just force people to see it.

Do they ever attack actual transphobes, which this fandom is not at all short on? Well, sort of! They did one or two callout posts about a TERF who used to run in these spaces... But didn't say anything about the TERF shit. Just the porn. The porn constantly put behind age confirmations and thorough tags/content warnings. This person spouted generic 'all-powerful trans lobby' 'social contagion' 'please look at this study about desistance I found on a hard-right website' bullshit, but no, it was them drawing aged-up highschoolers (REMINDER: NOT EVEN CANONICALLY UNDERAGE, JUST VAGUE HIGHSCHOOLERS, *AND* THEY WERE EXPLICITLY OLDER IN THEIR CONTENT!) that was apparently the greater evil.

I'm not even really sharing this to call them specifically out or draw attention to them. Regardless of whether they're a chud in a mask or just someone who severely, *severely* needs psychological help about their obsession, they're not going to stop. They've made that plainly obvious. At this point I've basically just accepted I'm going to have this deranged stalker until I leave the fandom, which I don't plan to do anytime soon so buckle up I guess.

No, I just want people to see what these people are like. How they ignore the people they claim are victims. How they employ the same tactics as doxxing websites and old channer trolls, or even outright enlist them. How they only EVER put sustained effort into taking down queer people with small platforms because going after the in-plain-sight actual bigots and scumbags would just be too much effort, a reflection of how this is about feeling righteous and powerful, not actually making the world better. They create nothing, they contribute nothing, they bring nothing but arguing and drama and isolation to the spaces they inhabit.

These kind of people are blights on the fandoms they cling to. And any time you act like their *miserable* Hays Code, Jack Thompson With A Rainbow Flag, no kink at pride, BDSM is abuse, drag queens are indecent, cover those ankles *garbage* warrants any notice at all, you deal another blow to the fandom you are in, because nobody wants to be around these little goddamn nightmares. edit: I know how red-flag any grooming allegations are, if you want the full story to that I already addressed it here. tl;dr, no, we did not let a child look at our porn let alone show it to them, we in fact stopped them from doing so. We are not in some secret private 18+ server with them, we actively ensured they STOPPED making themself unsafe, and have strained extremely, extremely hard to keep our very limited interactions with them transparent, scrutinizable, and appropriate. The only reason we even stuck around was because it became rapidly apparent they were in an abusive living situation which we occasionally gave them advice to manage, eg helping them look up boarding options, unlike the torch-waving dipshits who did NOTHING to reach out to them or help them in any way. They're doing much better, both in their home life and in terms of not following or privately palling around with 18+ creators anymore, thanks to us, and at the expense of both our mental health and reputations. You're fucken' welcome.

#proship #antiship #anti harassment #harassment #deltarune #undertale

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dustedbooksandreadingnooks · 6 months ago

Note

So… Kizuna started as an Elezen, and then became a….. super tall furry au’ra? Keathan’s one of his parents??

….. :3 how’d that work out?

Ok well you see when two or more people find an Allagan crash site and then they touch some wierd goo that came out of a test tube.... Sometimes they make a baby. Hope that helps <3

OK HERE'S A BETTER EXPLANATION FR LMFAO..... You remember the clones in the Crystal Towers? Unei and Doga? How they were made from the DNA of the actual people and then just... grew in a test tube until they were fully grown? And also related do you remember how Azys Lla is actually an incredibly unethical science experiment labratory where they genetically altered living beings and also grew them? Ok yeah keep both of those things in mind. Before the Circle of Knowing, before Sharlay took their vow of neutrality, before Galuf traveled to what would become Tuliyollal- there was another Sharlayan research team that was based out of Idyllshire. With Garlemald's rise into the early stages of an empire looking to expand under Emperor Solus, there was unease in the air if you knew how to look for it. This research team consisted of Erradane(Xaela), Keathan(Miqo), and some other people that aren't particularly relevant as of now but know that one of them was also a lupin. They were researching Allagan technology- namely a lesser island that fell out of the sky from Azys Lla(Or at least that's what i'm going with for now- the point is they find Something that nobody else had found yet). Unused growth chambers, though they didn't know that's what they found- some of them cracked. Basically I'm going with enough genetic material was accidentally provided by the research team to the tubes/the growth liquid inside of them that they just... accidentally made Kizuna (and his sister, Setsuna, as well!) They didn't even realize at first- there was so much to research they set up a temporary base and only noticed when lights changed and something was inside two of the tubes. They didn't know what to do about it really- but the somethings kept growing, until they looked like... well... children. (Unei and Doga always came out fully formed with memories intact, but this was a mix, and it wasn't meant for memory preservation but for genetic mutation, coming from Azys Lla.) Cue Kizuna and Setsuna popping out at approx. 1 year of age. either the facility couldn't handle it, or the power failed, or- it didn't really matter, but the point is that there were two kids. Kizuna, white skin and hair and dark scales, and fuzzy ears and feet, and Setsuna, dark skin and green scales. (Also note- these were not their given names, but that really doesn't matter.) As for why Kizuna grew up as an elezen? Both Setsuna and Kizuna had the echo from 'birth', from Keathan- but Kizuna stood out quite a bit, especially where him and Erradane were going. They split a fantasia to turn them into elezen and hide out in Coerthas, far from anyone that might want to find him. Note: this did not work. But that is for another time lmao- Kizuna doesn't remember his original form, his earliest memories are of being an elezen so that's all he knows. The fantasia's hold on his form weakens slowly, mostly manifesting in him absolutely shooting up in height during the events of ARR and fully breaks soon after Operation Archon, unable to handle the full brunt of the Blessing of Light and all of the aether he used to stop Ultima and Lahabrea. It definitely wasn't... pretty, his body trying to adjust to the form it was supposed to be. It really freaked him out, haha. Other perks of being an allagan test tube baby with untold amounts of aether is that he can recover from wounds most people wouldn't- which is a pretty handy ability to have as a Warrior of Light. His body will Survive, at all costs- which doesn't account for healing without scarring, but will heal things like, say... being gored in the stomach by Nidhogg and having his guts spill everywhere, as long as he has enough aether to deal with it. lmao (and possibly some help to make sure everything is in the right place and there isn't anything in him that isnt supposed to be.) this is all over the place but here you go hope that helps <3 (There is Even More Lore concerning Keathan here. Good Lort i have so much lore.)

#ask actually answered #ffxiv keathan #ffxiv kizuna #ffxiv erradane #man i feel like this makes no goddamn sense. i forget how much lore i have frfr #lore! nailed it

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years ago

Text

So... Where You Going?

For those not in the know, tumblr's doing its swan song and is going down to a skeleton crew for running the site. The site won't be gone immediately, but given how things run on tumblr now (will sometimes be totally unusable, I've had my blog automatically killed for nonsense reasons, held together with duct tape and glue) I'm going to treat this as if it could go down tomorrow or else that it will probably collapse by Christmas.

I'll probably be here until it's no longer usable but I'm not going to hold my breath that that's going to be any significant amount of time.

So, there comes the question of where I am going to go.

@therealvinelle and I have been discussing that and what we're likely to do is pivot what would be text meta into @rankheresy content. Things that would have been long text answers to questions will become episodes (note this is what the episodes essentially are already). We're also looking into doing Q&A style streams/videos where we'd answer questions from the audience to get to what would have been the short/more ridiculous 'what if' kind of things we usually do.

Of course, if people want us to run certain episodes/do certain content, we're open to suggestions and feedback.

As for Ao3, I'm not going anywhere on there, because if I could have shaken the fanfiction habit, I would have years ago. I'm in this for life, baby.

Neither of us have any plans to move all the blog content somewhere else in part because a) nobody seems to know where they want to land yet b) all the existing options are collapsing or else are terrible and I hate them. As much as this place is a hellsite, there's nothing quite like it. This could change but, for now, them's the breaks.

Also, since I've now published things, I can't disappear from online entirely.

So, here's the places you can find me.

Me, Myself, and I

The_Carnivorous_Muffin on Ao3

Amazon Author Page

If you're interested at all in my venturing into original things/what's been going in there, follow the Amazon author page as that will for sure alert you when new things come out, I'll make announcements other places (e.g. discord) but of course that depends on other places existing which who even knows at this point.

Rank Heresy (@rankheresy i.e. me and @therealvinelle meta stuff)

Rank Heresy Spotify

Rank Heresy Podcastaddict

Rank Heresy Apple Podcasts

Rank Heresy Amazon Music

Rank Heresy Player FM

Rank Heresy Google Podcasts

Rank Heresy Patreon

Rank Heresy Kofi

Rank Heresy Discord

Rank Heresy discord will probably become the best place to catch me or @therealvinelle as well as catch any announcements we make. In #announcements we drop anything we update (either the podcast or fics) and #notice-me-senpai channel can be used when you really want to get our attention/have us answer a question (we do lurk there but as of right now it's not a super active server).

Podfic (me and @therealvinelle podfic stuff)

Podfics on Spotify

Podfics on Amazon Music

Podfics on Podcastaddict

Podfics on PlayerFM

Podfics are what it says on the tin, it's me and @therealvinelle podficcing only our own material (which so far is just partway through For The Love of a Woman)

It's been a wild time, friends, hope to see you all in the future.

#about this blog #rank heresy #meta #vinelle #therealvinelle #announcement #discord

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