#Transition Rule | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happyk44 · 4 months

Text

The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.

He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.

Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.

He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.

No one wanted Percy around.

What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.

He was just tired.

He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.

But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.

No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.

He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.

The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.

He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.

The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.

As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.

“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”

“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”

Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.

But she wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

So what was the point?

He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”

The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.

“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”

One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”

“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.

Freeing.

His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.

Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.

How dare anyone talk about her.

A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.

I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.

Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.

His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.

“Percy,” someone whispered.

Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.

The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”

He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.

“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.

Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”

“Stop?”

“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”

Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.

But this was Grover.

And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”

His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.

Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”

Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”

His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.

No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.

“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”

“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”

The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.

Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.

Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.

While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.

But Grover did it anyway.

As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.

His palms itched.

“Are you scared of me?”

Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.

He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.

“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”

The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”

That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.

He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”

His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.

He exhaled slowly and let go.

“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.

Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”

“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”

“That your dream?”

He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”

Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”

Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”

He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.

His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”

Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.

“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”

The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.

Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.

Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”

Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.

Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.

“I won't,” Grover promised.

They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.

Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”

“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”

“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”

“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”

#percy jackson #grover underwood #i dont remember percy really having time to mourn his mom in tlt so i figured id give him a moment with grover #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #pjo fanfic #anyway grover is sleeping witj percy in his cabin to quote unquote keep an eye on him bu really they're just gonna play games #because percy is calm when grover's around #and i haven't read tlt in a while but i dont remember grover doing much with percy post arrival #so im headcanoning that its an unspoken unofficial rule that protectors arent supposed to interact yoo much with their former protectees #in order to allow for a better transition into demigod living and also so the protector in question can go out and find other demigods #🤷‍♂️ whatever whatever but grover 1) knows that percy is possessive and insane and 2) is also Percy's bestie so hes been TRYING #and Percy's attempted murder(s) came in handy for them to chill out with each other

134 notes · View notes

hi-sierra · 3 months

Text

Hiya and welcome!

This blog is a place where I'll post rambles, science stuff, writing, nice (but not sexy) selfies, guides/tutorials, my tortoise, and pictures I take out in nature. Until further notice, this blog will be 100% SFW, in a way that may be overly cautious sometimes.

I may not post here anytime soon bc I'm a bit busy, but this place will def be very active as time goes on! I wanted to make this blog for a while, so might be better just to put it up now so y'all can find it.

#trans #r/196 #trans selfie #transgender #abusing tags I expect to use here!#trans woman #transfemme #trans fem #transitioning #196 #rule #/r/196 #196blr

57 notes · View notes

makenna-made-this · 8 months

Text

BAWKtober Day 6 ~ Transition

Out with the old, in with the new

If you wanna support my october doodles (or buy a treat for my spoiled, spoiled chickens) my kofi and commission links are in pinned post~

106 notes · View notes

dice-n-antlers · 7 months

Text

Thinking about Astarion (because of course I am) and the spell True Resurrection.

There’s been some debate over the dates on his headstone and how long he’s been dead and how old he was when he died. The dates are listed kinda weird, but the general consensus is that he’s exactly at or just under 200 years (un)dead.

It is true that, as written, the creature must be dead “no longer than 200 years” for the spell to work.

However.

I think you can argue that in Astarion’s case (and for vampires in general) that it doesn’t matter.

Of course, to work within the confines of the game, the spell has to be written with specific rules and limits. However, rules can be bent and in a tabletop setting, this would be up to DM discretion. As you can see in the spell description, the soul of the creature must also be free and willing to return to life and their body must not have died of old age. So, why the 200-year restriction? To answer that question, let’s talk about souls in the Forgotten Realms.

In general, when an ensouled creature dies, the soul moseys on over to the fugue plane over the course of a few days or even up to a month. This is why there are different resurrection spells that have to be used within a minute or ten days; because the soul is still sorta hanging around.

Once on the fugue plane, the soul just kinda hangs out. Waiting. After about a tenday-ish, a divine postal worker from the soul’s chosen deity comes to pick up the soul and deliver it to its final resting place on the home plane of their deity. The soul can’t be forced or tricked into following the wrong mailman. And there are exceptions to this rule as well. For instance, a soul who wasn’t particularly faithful might end up waiting centuries before someone shows up. If they wait too long, the soul may fade out of existence or Kelemvor may judge them before then.

Once the soul has been prime-delivered to their deity’s planar doorstep, they become a petitioner and their form and the nature of the afterlife can vary wildly depending on who they follow. Some exist in bliss or anguish. Memories of their life on Toril may fade. In the case of elves, they tend to retain their individuality and identity and may eventually be reincarnated in a cycle seeking perfection.

(Note: non-elven petitioners of the Seldarine pantheon of Arvandor could appear as elven or with elven features in death even if they were not elves in their mortal life. Same goes for drow, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings and their respective gods and planes. So you could even make the argument that a non-elf could then enter the elven reincarnation cycle and be elven in their future life if they worship Sehanine Moonbow or Corellon Larethian, etc. Consider also that the Reincarnation spell has the potential to change a dead creature into almost any race without effecting their soul; therefore reincarnating an elf into a tiefling but not removing them from their normal elven reincarnation cycle.)

(But I digress)

The point is, when you are raising a creature from the dead, you are pulling them from somewhere in that natural process. Depending on how long they have been dead, they may no longer exist, or may have little to no memory of their mortal life, they may not want to come back, they may have already been reincarnated into another life, or you might be pissing off some deity. In fact, once a soul is a petitioner, their deity has to approve of their return to life as well. Not to mention, for most souls there may not be much worth coming back to after 200 years; there is likely nothing remaining of their former life and loved ones.

Again, the soul must be both free and willing.

So what about Astarion? To bastardize his own quote: his soul is RIGHT THERE.

He died, sure, but his soul didn’t go anywhere. If you didn’t ascend him, you know his soul exists intact. It’s not on the fugue plane or any final resting plane and hasn’t been reincarnated. His body is dead(ish), but didn’t die of old age. Not to mention, the Monster Manual specifically lists (re)killing them and bringing them back to life as a potential way to cure a vampire.

Assuming that Astarion is willing to return to a full, mortal life, I see no barrier to True Resurrecting him… except that you might need to kill him first… and you need a fuckton of diamonds.

In short: think of the 200-year thing as more of a guideline than a rule. Alternatively, consider that Astarion may have been un-dead for a good long time, but he has not been dead-dead for 200 years.

Now, go forth Tavs! Go kill and resurrect your vampire boyfriend!

#this one is for the angst-with-a-happy-ending fic writers #astarion ancunin #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 posting #I spend too much time thinking about death in the forgotten realms #I play a grave cleric worshipper of a homebrew goddess who rules over The Grey #best described as the transition area in the fugue plane for souls #my DM tweaked the fugue a bit because death is fucky in TFR and she didn’t like the normal process #said cleric is the tabaxi in my pfp #but I’m rambling again

56 notes · View notes

tanadrin · 10 months

Text

*very* frustrating to hear a couple of sociologists talk about the fall in Russia’s life expectancy in the 90s as if it was all abstract higher order effects like “social dislocation.” the goddamn gdp contracted for nearly 10 years straight! austerity is *incredibly bad* for health and education and the economy and a ton of other shit! this was not the bounty of capitalism that a few people happened to miss out on or old people dying of nostalgia or something.

#even if you are ideologically committed to the idea capitalism rules #the post soviet economic transition was not handled well!

115 notes · View notes

seawing-vibes · 1 year

Text

Some headcanon’s of mine that I dont see around too much ! Transfem Starflight & Turtle <3

In this headcanon Turtle goes by she/her and is a trans women & starflight would go by they/she and is transfeminine non-binary !

#WoF #Wings of Fire #Turtle WoF #Starflight WoF #I’ve had these headcanons for a while and I think about them a lot !!! I imagine they would come out/fully realize their identity’s after #the events of the main story ! Starflight having her realization of embracing femininity later in the story while Turtle would’ve had the #realization p early on but finally had the confidence to socially transition & come out after events of story #Pride Icon #no these aren’t June Request pride icons #yes I drew them the exact same way I would a normal icon .#also if you want to use these as Icons just normal rules credit me and you can use em for either way of transness for personal use as I #didnt use the specific transfem flag #I would but my eyes are being senseitive and most flags are Way Too Bright for me rn pfhbf #guh you can really tell with Starflights piece pfhbfh I had to make their flag real dark </3 #starflight #turtle #art #<- they also both got design updates & stuff !! happy with these deisgns ehe <3 #gotta find that great transfem turtle post again…#TideArt #Designin

389 notes · View notes

catboybiologist · 5 months

Text

Hi! I'm Sierra. Time for a pinned post refresh.

Otherwise known as CatboyBiologist, or @hi-sierra (my SFW blog [this one is SFW too, but less so]). This page is remaining active, but if you want to find me somewhere else, I use the same username on reddit, Instagram, co-host, and tech.lgbt. This is me:

Trans woman, PhD student in molecular biology, boymoder, shitposter, freediver, hot girl on your phone, hiker, rambler (this post included), tgirl tummy tuesday supplier and enjoyer, former femboy, bane of bioessentialist fuckwads who try to use biology to validate biogotry, flaming bisexual, 196 nanocelebrity… whatever was the first thing that brought you to my blog, I hope it’s enough to get you to stay! I post selfies, hornyposts (minors and people who are averse to that be warned), stuff about the ocean, posts about my growing sense of wanderlust, my adorable lil tortoise, tutorials for transfemmes and GNC people, rambles about science, documentation of my own transition, rambles about transness, rambles about the eroticism of programming a machine to feel arousal, rambles about nature, and random shitposts. Please send me pictures of cute animals in your life!

If you wanna support my science career and my transition, consider dropping a tip here! PhD salaries are notorious for being negotiated to be exactly the cost of living…. And then forgotten about for years as inflation drops that below minimum wage. So I’m always a little strapped for cash. Anything helps!

Links to some of my tutorials and relevant resources under the cut:

I'm tracking my transition, and some people have said they found this helpful! This spreadsheet is generally updated monthly:

Usually, I write a little journal to go with it when it updates- you can find that under the #trans journal on my blog.

If you're interested in checking out some of the things I'm trying to write, here's a post with links to individual stories I'm making:

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/741010247774306304/writing-consolidation-post?source=share

My femboy guide, written well before I started HRT, but still has relevant info:

A "boyboob" tutorial, aka how to make it look like you have cleavage in an outfit that looks better with it:

A quick and dirty guide to taking better selfies, with a specific emphasis on people who may have stopped hating their body recently due to transition:

And here's a few of my personal favorite little rambles and posts about my transness, in no particular order:

CW for transphobia on this one:

A massive shoutout to @foldingfittedsheets for this amazing art of the lil borgir holding a trans flag:

I adore this so much <3 if you want to support their art, her commissions are open and really sweet!!!!

And of course, a massive shoutout to @whalesharkcat for this lovely pixel art of my tortoise:

I still love this so much, and will continue to into the future <3

For preHRT selfies, search the femboy tag. For post HRT selfies, use the "trans selfie" tag. I've been on HRT since August of 2023, so I'm still very early in the process! Day to day, I present male, but I plan to change that around the 1 year mark.

I guess that's about it! One final note is that I've been alluding to video/podcast style things for a while now. With my aderrall prescription, I've actually put in a lot of research work that might lead to 1-4 of those, so that might actually happen in the near future! No promises of course, life always catches up to you.

And if you liked my previous pinned post better, here it is:

Anyways, if you read this far, thanks for sticking around and bbyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

505 notes · View notes

sonknuxadow · 3 months

Text

same character

#to be clear i think this rules im obsessed with him and his transition from evil demon thing to silly little beast #fleetwaysonicposting

26 notes · View notes

smiletolerantly · 10 months

Text

Trans(-femme) positivity on reddit was like "oh honey don't worry, it's going to be OK! You're a strong, independent and beautiful woman! 💋💖💪🏻"

And on Tumblr it's "I have been BETRAYED! I picked up a girl at the bar last night and she DID NOT have a PENIS! Y'all owe me an EXPLANATION!! 😠"

#The Reddit kind is somewhat important in the early stages of transition though #So maybe the Reddit to Tumblr pipeline was just meant to be?#r/196 #rule #rule 196 #ruleposting #reddit #trans positivity #trans #transgender

86 notes · View notes

bonefall · 10 months

Note

Did you man beam Drizzle? If so, why not just pair up Rustle with Cranberry instead? I get for the amazing ship name but I'm curious about the choice /gen

I totally forgot Drizzle's original gender, but also, I really don't want to overthink it. I'm so tired of overthinking it. I wanted CranberryDrizzle funny ship name and it was getting exhausting to plan out where every pairing in several hundred cats would be getting their kits from

Rustle is going to die at some point after having two QR kittens, and Cranberrydrizzle is going to have 2 important litters (Sunstrike and Emberfoot in the first, Fernstripe in the second). I have done an exhausting amount of work (weeks of planning and hours of work at a time, scouring the wiki and facebook screenshots, redrawing tangles, reading through suggestions, writing out full posts of changes and creating new groups with their own histories) untangling broken fragments of family trees and like... I'm tired. No more shuffling. I deserve Funny Ship Name. is this too much to ask

Boy Drizzle is just the easiest answer. I'd like for Drizzle to just be transfem but I was also told to avoid cats being trans just to have kits, which is ALSO frustrating me at this point, I don't like this weight of "perfect representation" that's being put on me when I'M not even perfect representation as a living human queer.

Do I let Drizzle be transfem and "break a rule," or change them to a boy and "lose" a lesbian pairing? It feels gross to me to have fallen into a mindset where I'm treating queer relationships like quotas or rigid rulesets

I feel like if I 'get something wrong' (like forget the gender of a Missing Kit or a side character, or handwave 'where did these kits come from' with 'trans/queen's rights' without considering a real secret surrogate) I'm going to get smacked upside the head and be forced to hyperfocus on one small part of a massive project when I already have a million other things to work on.

So unfortunately the most honest answer I can probably give is that im tired. I'm really tired. Overthinking minor details before making every single tumblr post is draining me. I forgot the missing kit's original author-assigned gender and didn't scroll to the bottom of Onestar's wiki page to check it before posting. I like the ship name. Cranberrysplash somehow gets pregnant twice, but I was told to avoid trans bioparents, yet doing that is making things even harder after I had to do weeks of work to make a good tree in the first place

I'll figure out Drizzlefall's gender when they become relevant in some context

#i dont want cranberryrustle i want cranberrydrizzle #for my own sanity I am probably going to start straightup deleting asks and replies about accidental misgenderings of missing kits #i cannot keep the gender and names of 600+ characters straight 100% of the time #Especially when they were only named in authorial statements #i deserve funny ship name. i just. i deserve funny ship name #do i not bleed enough to deserve funny ship name #i don't think I can work with this ''minimize trans bioparents'' rule. It's done nothing but cause me frustration and make burnout set in #redtail is a man and he gave birth. get over it. im sick of feeling guilty over my own hobby project #for characters like sedge where it's a plot point it will stay but I CANT keep working with it in mind #Hazeltail is unkilled. She is trans. She is taking Mousewhisker's place in ThunderClan so he can go to riverclan #If canon gives mouse kittens then they will be hazeltail's. trans people fuck and have kids. deal with it #and you know what? in a world with countries that will fucking sterilize you if you want to legally transition #maybe it *should* be more normalized.#tw transphobia #btw anon it's clear you're being genuine so im not mad at you #vent a long time coming I think #bone babble

61 notes · View notes