#I feel like a lot of small groups have similar discussions over time

[factorialsotherfandoms]

"Philza, can we be serious for a second?" Fit asks, one day.

"I'm listening." Philza turns, his attention granted once more

"If we ever get off this island, what are we going to do?" The question has been haunting Fit for some time; it is only right he asks one of his closest friends.

"… Go back to where we came from, I suppose." Philza, to his credit, seems melancholnic with the answer.

"But the kids, Phil," Fit's voice tenses on the words. "I can't take Ramon with me - you've seen where I live. I can't take a child there, never again."

"You've changed, mate."

"Philza."

It's not wrong, but its not what Fit wants to talk about. Not in the slightest, or at all - Philza has changed too, after all. For the more vulnerable, in both their cases.

There is silence a moment, before Philza sighs. "I get you," another pause. "I love my hardcore worlds, but… one life and you're dead. It's the thrill of it, it's the beauty of it, I'm sure I could make somewhere safe enough for my eggs, but… they shouldn't have to live in fear of death. Not ever, not any more, never again. Hell, not even Wil lives with me there, and he's an adult. Beautiful as it is its a solo world for a reason, you know?"

"Then you get me."

"Yeah, I get you."

Probably better than anyone else in the worlds.

There's silence again for a few moments, broken only by the sounds of using Phil and Missa's warp as a shortcut to spawn. Fit is quite content to let it sit, to simply know that the problem is shared, that he's not the only person both deseperate to escape and terrified of what that means.

The interruption, however, drives Philza to speak again. "Fit, what do you want to say?"

Does he want to say something else? Fit doesn't know, but assumes Philza must have some idea. "… I'm not sure," he says. "But I think some of the others don't have suitable homes either."

"Do any of them?" Philza replies. "I'm not even sure Wil /has/ a home at this point."

"Right. And the Brazilians. I don't know exactly, but Phil-" Fit pauses, unsure if he should finish that sentence, before deciding to hell with it, Philza will recognise it anyway. "Pac and Mike were using the boat to put distance between them and the law after their past caught up. Dunno about the others, but can't imagine its great if they shared a boat together."

Philza whistles, clearly not surprised. If anything, slightly impressed - FIt could always trust him with that. "Guess its a habit of theirs."

"I'm serious, Philza." Fit reminds him.

"No same," Philza gestures a bit. "I don't know them like you do, but Pac and Mike... They deserve a chance, let alone Richarlyson."

So do all the children, Fit doesn't say. He's done crimes enough against children before.

Philza waits, and when Fit doesn't continue, does so himself, "I don't know much about the French before they came here, or Foolish, but Bad was already working multiple part time jobs, and if he had a home it wasn't best suited to a kid."

"Vegetta? Missa?" Fit asks. "Does Quackity have somewhere to go maybe?"

"Dunno about most. Missa's a bit like Wil, though," Philza smiles softly at the thought, before it turns a little sadder. "Never stays anywhere very long, and with the skeleton thing and his reaction to this shack… pretty sure it's not by /choice/ he's doing the travelling musician act. Wil at least has somewhere to return to, Missa nearly burst into tears at four walls made of fences and a cheap roof."

"Well shit."

"Definitely can't take Missa to hardcore, either," Philza continues the thought. "I could make an area safe for Tallulah. Missa? He'd die as soon as I looked away from him and I /can't/ loose him. Not now."

"Travelling musicians, ex-cons, men who live alone without any contact, old hands in an eternal wasteland... The Feds clearly picked people who wouldn't be missed," Fit frowns a little, struggling to think of anyone who bucks that trend.

Philza doesn't reply to that. Fit doesn't think it too odd but, after he doesn't respond for a while, he looks over. There's a clear look on Philza's face, one that has ended empires and built others anew.

"Philza?"

"I do have… a bit of a plan. Not a lot of one. But I've been thinking."

"Thinking, eh? Using that beautiful brain of yours?" Fit doesn't know if he should be terrified or excited, and so falls back on the oldest trick in the book - flirting.

"Oh shut up big boy," Philza waves one dismissive hand. "But, yeah. I'm pretty sure, if we could get out of here, I could manage to find some place uninhabited. A new island or world. Whitelist it just to us islanders and the eggs, maybe people's partners from elsewhere. Infinite lives, an empty but open world… Somewhere just for us. All of us."

"It'd be a lot of work, starting again from nothing. Can you even support this many people? I know there's your worlds, but it'd be a lot..." Fit wants to be excited, wants to see some hope in this tunnel - somewhere safe for him and his kid, somewhere to retire to. Maybe make trips back to the wasteland, but no longer live there. Never live there again.

"I can't talk to her here, not easily, but I bet Kristin would be willing to support it. I've heard a few other people have ties to gods, too, which would help. Not sure which, but once we /have/ a plan asking is easier." Philza muses a bit as he talks. "We discussed it once, before, for another group. Smaller than this, but with help... I reckon it'd work. Even if not, I could hold it together long enough for someone to make a better plan."

"Sounds nice. Too nice," is all Fit can really say.

"I've never wanted it before," Philza sighs with the words. "I was happy just with my solo worlds, but… I don't think i could loose this - everyone - now I've had them."

"Just like I cant leave Ramon."

"Exactly. We've got families now."

"Look at us, getting old and sentimental."

"Oh piss off mate you started it."

"I know, I know." Fit laughs, because what can he do but laugh in the end.

Philza has a plan, and Fit is included in it. It will work, or it will fail, and there's nothing they can do about it.

It's a pipe dream, anyway; they'd have to get off the island first, and Fit's pretty sure that won't be possible in his lifetime. The best he can do is enjoy what he has for the time it lasts, and leave worrying to people better suited to it.

If only the Federations would let them have their fun.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp fitmc #qsmp philza #scribbled the dialogue out at like 1am #added the rest 12 hours later #I feel like a lot of small groups have similar discussions over time #worlds be nebulous etc

[strawbeerossi]

Sweet Treat

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.

Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.

A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.

“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”

And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.

Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.

He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.

You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.

“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.

It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?

Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘

Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.

“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.

Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.

Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.

You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”

“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.

“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.

The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.

“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.

You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.

You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.

Your body was perfect.

As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.

“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.

The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.

Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.

He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.

When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.

Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.

His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.

“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.

“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023

[cypherthesuccubus]

You can call us both….Daddy~

Alastor x Reader x Luci -Part 1- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, threesome, daddy kink, praise kink, body worship, cock worship, Gentle Dom Luci, Dom Alastor, mate marking, blood kink, slight bondage, S&M, tentacle play, anal, DP, she/ her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial, slight RadioApple action

Other tags: fluff, angst

Reader will always receive aftercare!!! ✨

Winner by popular vote!!!! Here’s Part 1 of your spicy endeavors with the radio demon and the big boss of hell himself~ I hope you sinners enjoy ~😈✨

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

My eyes open slowly as the Hell’s sun’s rays hit my face through the window pain of my glass doors; leading to my recently built balcony. I sit up to stretch my arms out while letting out a big yawn. Slowly pulling back the covers, I trudge out of bed as I make my way to the bathroom to start my morning routine. I soon then step out the foggy bathroom; already dressed for the day as I finish drying my hair. I make my way my vanity; sitting down as I go through my self care products. As I’m putting on lotion on my arms and legs, I hear some knocking coming from my sliding glass door. I look confused as to who that could be, but then remember the only person who greets me from my balcony was none other than the king himself. He waved at me as he presses his cheek against the glass “You gonna let me in (Y/N)?” I giggle at him as I make my way to the door; sliding it open as he proceeds to step inside. It’s funny how Luci and me got to be really good friends now. The first time we met was just like any other day; going through the motions and joining the group activities on time. It had been 3 months since being a part of the hotel on that day actually. It was that morning Charlie made this announcement saying that her dad was on the way here to see how things were going. It was nerve racking to say the least as I’ve never been in front of the King himself. But when introductions were made and small talk turned into joining the group activity we had planned that day. All the way up to him and me literally having a sleepover in my room; sitting at my vanity together while talking and sharing each other’s products we use. He made me laugh hysterically when I saw him put hair curlers on and he quotes “Whaaat~? They help give my hair its iconic style. Gotta look pretty for the public.” I was rolling when he placed his chin on top of his hands as he interlocked his fingers; batting his eyelashes for effect.

Ever since we would always hang out, thus making him come by the hotel more often. He really is good company. His goofball energy always knew how to cheer me up. We would talk about everything, including some secrets no one else knew. But lately, there’s been a secret that I can’t really bring up around him. I’ve kind of started developing feelings for him, which has became really conflicting. Before we met officially, I would hang around Alastor from time to time when I first became a part of the hotel. He was charismatic and polite when welcoming me to the hotel. We would occasionally sit on his balcony; having a cup of tea as we chatted about how our days went. We even had some very interesting and intellectual discussions on similar interests we shared. He went as far as showing me around his radio tower, which he never does to just anyone. It was even more of a privilege when he invited me to do a podcast with him. He told me that he enjoyed our conversations so much that he wanted to put it on the air. It was a lot of fun doing it too. After our podcast, there was surprisingly a lot of positive feedback. It seemed people really loved our views on things and wanted more. Soon through those 3 months, once a week, we had a podcast together and he called it “Radio Tea Time.” I thought it was clever since we started having these talks over a cup of tea.

Now here’s where the confliction of my developing feelings for Luci comes to play here. Since I’ve been doing these podcasts with Alastor, then just enjoyed in each others company after the show; I’ve also developed feelings for him too. Honestly, I don’t think I’m gonna get anywhere with Alastor to be fair. He never was interested in those sort of things to begin with. My best bet would be to pursue Luci all the way, but this part of me doesn’t want to forget my feelings for Alastor either. “Hey (Y/N), are you doing ok?” Luci snaps me out of my thoughts as I give him a reassuring smile. “Oh yes Luci I’m alright. I was just thinking about what I was gonna do after breakfast today.” He pauses for a moment to think of something. His face then lights up as he has a brilliant idea. “I got it! How about I take you and everyone in the hotel to Lu Lu World!” I look at him baffled by the tremendous offer. Seriously?! Lu Lu World?!?! I’ve never been there before and always wanted to go, but could never afford it. “For real?!?! You would take us to Lu Lu World?!?!” He grins sheepishly at me “Of course dear! I know the owner personally~” I laughed as I lightly punch him in the shoulder “Oh stop it you goofball.” He laughs as he then places his hand on the small of my back; directing me towards my bedroom door “Come on, let’s go tell the others on today’s change of plans.”

(Luci’s P.O.V)

I was pretty excited to show (Y/N) around Lu Lu World, since it her first time being here. Of course I was excited to spend more time with my daughter and all her friends at the park too. But to be honest, I really wanted to see (Y/N’s) eyes light up by all the amazing sights she was gonna see. As soon as we arrived at the entrance, she squealed in excitement like a kid in a candy store. Everyone and I had to chase her down cause she was so excited to ride some rides already. The first ride she wanted to ride first was the roller coaster call “The Second Death.” This ride is very popular to visitors so the line was super long, but luckily I’m the king so everyone and me can cut the line through VIP. The ride never disappoints with all its twists and turns. The ride will always leave your stomach doing loops, thus why so many sinners get sick afterwards. After the coaster, we then proceeded to the mini games that’s spread through out the park. I think (Y/N) enjoyed playing the games more than the rides. I even played a game with her cause she wanted the grand prize, which was a big stuffed yellow duck that wore a cute red bow tie. Of course me being the king I easily won it for her. “We have a winner!!! Here you go sir!!!” I take the duck from the imp behind the counter and hand it to her “For you, sweetheart.” She went all giddy and pulled me in for a tight hug “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!!”

She then lets me go and heads towards the group; showing them what she has. A smile takes over my face as I watch how happy (Y/N) was right now. Seeing her smile is all the serotonin I need to keep going through this eternal life in hell. Since her and I have be really good friends since first meeting her; she’s always brought this glowing aura everywhere she went. She was always helping my daughter around the hotel whenever she can. Even when Charlie insisted that she could do it herself, (Y/N) always persuaded her otherwise to say yes to her help. Sometimes (Y/N’s) kindness would shine just as brightly as Charlie’s. They really were the definition of being the best of friends. “That was really nice of you dad!” I jump and turn to see Charlie standing behind me. “Ah Charlie! I didn’t see you there sweetie.” I straighten my coat and hat while dusting off my sleeves “I’m really glad that you found a friend in (Y/N) just like I do!” She smiles as she gives me a hug as well. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine sweetie.” She lets go as she leads me back to the group as we continue onto the next ride. Sometimes I wish I was more honest with myself, especially with my daughter. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can keep this secret of mine.

In long story short, the longer I spent time with (Y/N)….the more I started to like her…..like….really like her. What do they call it these days? A crush? Yeah that sounds about right. But we have such a good thing going already; I really don’t want to mess anything up. Ever since Lilith and I separated, I’ve been scared to move on like this; thinking maybe she would come back. But since meeting (Y/N); helping me through some tough times and encouraging me to take care of myself; things have changed tremendously and I’m so afraid to take the next step. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if this ruins our friendship if I decide to make a move? I don’t know what to do anymore!!!!

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

I honestly never intended to come to this wretched place they have the nerve to call an “Amusement Park” There’s nothing really amusing about it. Just simple lack luster thrills all for a ridiculous price. The only reason why I’m even here is because (Y/N) expressed interest on coming here. It’s fascinating really. We have so many common interests that we have expressed over our podcast; and yet here she is getting excited over something as simple as a theme park. Now that I find amusing. Her excitement is the only reason I’m still here; walking around this place along with a buffoon that calls himself a king. Watching (Y/N) run around; getting easily excited by one thing after another would be more entertaining; If Lucifer wasn’t following her around like a lost puppy. I will never understand how she can be “friends” with him out of all beings of hell. Husker I can understand. Angel is pushing it, but is fine. Even Charlie I can definitely understand, due to how much alike they are naturally. But Lucifer? He doesn’t honestly offer anything except the title, which doesn’t mean shit to begin with. I don’t know why this bothers me so much. These things usually don’t have me even taking a second glance at; let alone look its way. For some unholy reason, I seethe at the sight of Lucifer getting too close to (Y/N).

What is my deal?! I never waste my time on petty thoughts like this!! Why should I care?! Why do I care?!? This is not becoming of me!!! I need to focus on something else other than this. Just pretend that he’s not there. Focus more on (Y/N) and how entertaining she is. I soon then watch her grab the grand prize from Lucifer as she hugged him tightly for it. I grip my staff; almost bending it out of shape as I see Lucifer watch her walk away after the hug; him smiling as he looks at her….differently than usual. What is that look? What does it mean? WHY DO I STILL EVEN CARE?!?! I had a bad feeling this would be a bad idea to come. But something wanted me to, thus pushing all rational thoughts out of the question. That reason other than (Y/N) being amusing; I don’t know what else this feeling is. When I see (Y/N) being….close to Lucifer; I instantly want to kick his teeth in.

Why am I getting so possessive over (Y/N)?! I would never do anything like this for anyone!!! Yet here we are!!! I need to figure out things before I drive myself even more insane than I already am. Soon enough I will get answers to this conundrum, but right now I need to focus on how to keep my demeanor afloat while I’m still here.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin smut #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #lucifer smut #alastor x y/n #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #18+ content #18+ post #18+ blog #18+ only #18+ account #alastor x lucifer #radioapple #alastor x reader x lucifer

[lyramundana]

No feelings involved...right?

Prologue and Part 1

Warnings❗: Implied baby trapping, dubious consent. It all happens at the end.

If their current predicament could be resumed in one sentence, it'll sound like a mother's voice saying "I told you so".

They didn't plan it. It all started with a small mishap, a consequence of their exhaustion and the amount of issues going on in their personal lives. Then the mishap repeated itself, and then they decided to turn it into a game for their own pleasure, no strings attached to her. Then the game grew beyond their control and became a mountain of lies, too big to seize them.

Jisung first met her through a friend of his, and although he found her beautiful then, she didn't catch his attention beyond that. They met frecuently, since they both ran in the same circle of friends, and after one night being left alone by their drunk friends, they spent the time talking and turned out they had more in common that he thought. They clicked, in a way it's hard to explain, but just felt like he knew her since forever. They went from mere acquaintances to suddenly having her name appear at the top of his contact list along with Minho's.

Minho met her through his boyfriend, of course. He first saw her when Jisung brought her home to hang out, without even warning him about it. Their introduction was pretty formal, quick. They shook hands, made some small talk and Jisung inmediatly stole her attention again. Minho wasn't interested in befriending her and viceversa, but Jisung was their common point and she eventually became a regular presence in their apartment, so they really had no option but get along. Forced proximity and all.

Jisung has always known a lot of people, plenty of familiar faces that tend to flock towards him wherever he goes, but few of them can say they truly know him. Jisung cracks jokes, plays long with them, but rarely speaks about himself. He keeps a careful, calculated distance, because he knows that despite all those smiles and compliments, they only see the surface, what they want to see, and don't care about the rest. Which it's okay, it comes with the job, and this facade actually helps to keep undesirable people away without being rude. But she...she's different. From the moment she spoke to him and he listened, he found there was more to her than what she showed. Like him, she never allowed people to see beyond the surface, simply letting them believe the version they liked to spare herself the headaches. She understood him. And for the first time in years, Jisung felt a genuine connection to someone besides Minho.

The funny thing is that they don't talk that much, outside those events where the whole group meets and they stick together to not get bored. And when they get to talk, it's mostly about stuff only they know and deep, phylosophical converstations where they discuss the meanings of life. Maybe, if he's in a certain mood, he complains about a recent argument with Minho and asks for advice, but that's not the norm with them. When he brings her home is to get drunk over petty drama and gossip, without the others. They just fall back in the comfortability of a quiet friendship where no small talks were needed and they could simply let go of their masks.

Things between Minho and her weren't ideal at first. The few times they interacted was when she was at their flat, usually drunk and leaving a mess, and he got mad at it. He could look past it when it was Jisung, but having a stranger doing it was something else. He made sure of letting her know after the drunk haze, barely holding back the bite in his words. He expected her to get offended or feel embarrassed, but no. She never showed an ounce of shame, instead replying him with the same snarky tones, and sometimes that small lopsided grin of hers that made his blood boil. But what started as mostly petty arguments and cold greetings turned into a sense of complicity when they realized their humour was similar and they both acted like Jisung's babysitters more often than not.

Minho is used to be misunderstood. His resting bitch face, his brutal honesty, his reserved demeanour and that perpetual indifference in his face that rarely expressed emotions. People were quick to form opinions about him and not all were good. He was considered cold, arrogant, a snob that didn't like to mingle with those he saw "beneath him", you get it. Most wondered how someone so sweet and cheerful as Jisung could fall for him. It's okay for Minho, he doesn't see the point in caring for what strangers may think. The people he loves know him for who he is and that's enough. Then she came, all carefree and playful and open-minded. Jisung only spoke good things about her, but Minho knew his boy could be biased. Until they started talking and he found out she was truly different. She wasn't intimidated by him, even though he pulled the worst of him sometimes with her around, but she never reacted on it. She was quick to stand up against him, all prideful and confident. And her lack of respect felt like a wheeze of fresh air. After being constantly misjudged, it felt nice to have someone apart from Jisung that made an effort to see through his facade.

Before they noticed it, she became a constant in their lives. Even if they didn't meet often, even if the phone calls sometimes got short, she was present and they felt it. Whenever they needed a favour, she was the safest option. When something juicy happened, she was the first person they called. Even when their fights got brutal and they had no one to seek advice from, her door appeared in front of their eyes.

She never turned down, although her complaints were very much heard. She acted as a bridge between them both when they refused to take the initiative, pushing them to apologise and communicate their problems and feelings. Minho was stubborn, but Jisung could easily win him at times, and persuade them to move past it was a pain. Nevertheless, she did it every single time, to the point the walls of her house and the natural scent that filled it became so familiar to them.

They genuinely don't know when things started to change. They talked it before and both agreed she was beautiful, easy to the eyes, but nothing more. Sure, she was a vital part of their lives now but that's all they wanted her to be. At least that's what they told themselves until that night behind that club, when they tasted her for the first time and found the missing piece they had been bothering them for so long. That annoying empty space in their sex life that have appeared coincidentally shortly after meeting her..

Of course, things couldn't be the same after that mindblowing experience, not like they wanted it to either. They planned the whole affair while she slept in their arms, dead to the world. It was easy to convince her, with her body still vibrating by the last events and her mind still waking up. Granted that wasn't exactly correct from their parts, but they were slightly desperate and the idea of letting her go after that sounded awfully wrong.

And so that was the start of their downfall.

Looking back, they asked for it. At first it was all very natural. They were still friends but now they also fucked sometimes. She was open to every kink and preference of theirs, and she also introduced them to her own tastes. No commitment, no explanations expected or needed. But when their encounters became more often it got harder to stay away from her, they had her sign an NDA to continue. Which was..okay, not something they accounted for but it wasn't necessarily a problem.

No, the problems started when their feelings began to get in the way of the commitment-free arrangement they wanted.

Their doll was a gorgeous creature, a delightful sight for sore eyes, and they knew it. She was like this when they met her and they had no problem with it, Jisung even admired it and made jokes about it, about how ridiculous easy those idiots fell for her charms, scrambling on their feet to get an ounce of her attention. But at some point, seeing such scenes evoked less amusement and more disgust. And following disgust, there was something else. Something twisted and painful and deadly that climbed to their throats when another worthless scum tried his luck with her. Minho could heard this tempting voice in his head telling him to rip their guts out and Jisung imagined a number of creative scenarios where he taught that bastard a lesson.

Sometimes, those voices told them to grab their precious doll and drag her away from those dirty hands, keep her near where they couldn't lose her, which was weird because she meant nothing to them. Just a close acquaintance they casually fucked from time to time very often. And yet...

These sudden, strange emotions were translated in their bed.

The sex with her was always rough and fast, and the only aftercare that ocurred was sharing a smoke in bed over some small talk. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. Their usual routine felt short, uncomplete, unsatisfying. The mouths started to trace her face, her body, the marks they left on her. Their movements turned slower, more gentle, more precise. They wanted to see how it was when she burst in pleasure, when she gave herself up entirely in their arms. They kissed, caressed, worshipped the entirety of her skin, and they whispered words of praise in her ears for the duration of it. And when it was done, they needed wanted her close, lulling her into sleep as their arms trapped her against them.

"You're doing so, so well, doll. Can you give us one more, please? You look lovely like this."

"Look at you, already crying and shaking. Shh, it's okay, love, we got you. Leave it to us, okay'"

But when they couldn't stand that twisted feeling in their guts, after seeing some other clown trying to steal her away, both men turned animalistic on her. They were all confused at this change, and the two of them couldn't explain where did it came from. They just felt the urgent need to cover her in bites, scratches and hickeys, in every place where those undeserving eyes feasted upon. ¿How dare those assholes? ¿Didn't they know she was with them? ¿Had they no shame? ¿Did they really think they stood a chance?

"That's it, keep looking at us, slut. That's where your eyes should always be. ¿What the fuck were you thinking, uh?"

"¿You wanted him to fuck you too? Is that it? You greedy whore. Clearly we need to fuck you more. We'll make sure you can't even talk or walk without our help."

And it didn't end just there. They started to bring her to their dates, inviting her everywhere they went, giving her their clothes. They had love-hate feelings towards her revealing dresses, because as much as they enjoyed the view, they hated seeing others do the same. She became part of their routine, outside the sex part. She was always there. And as time passed, it felt like she had been there since the beginning. They hardly remembered how things were before she came.

But they kept lying to themselves, lying to everyone. This wasn't anything. They could stop whenever they wanted to. There no other feelings involved. Of course not.

And things finally went downhill when someone asked them:

"So, that girl that's always with you two, what's the deal with her? Is there something serious going on? Because you have to introduce her to us, then."

That question struck them. Brutally.

They never thought too much about it. Things with her just...happened naturally, and they barely noticed it. They simply followed their instincts at the time, not realizing the weight those actions could hold. ¿What was the deal with her, truly? Granted, she was more than just a quick fuck, but still. And what was up with them? Why the fuck did they want to meet her? She was perfectly fine where she was.

At the end of the day, the three of them moved in different worlds. There were things about themselves they couldn't tell her, things she would never understand. Maybe that was better, they thought. To keep her away from that circus of drama and lies and dirty secrets they were part of. She didn't belong there. And to keep her far away from idiots butting their noses where they shouldn't.

So they quickly defused the situation. She was just an acquaintance, they didn't really know her, yeah. They already had each other, it had always been just each other. She meant nothing.

If she did, where did that leave them?

¿Were they supposed to know someone was going to post their answer on social media? Were they supposed to know she would see it and demand explanations too?

Yes

They never saw her so angry, so emotional. She was bursting in anger and sadness and dissapointment, and they could both feel how their hearts stopped at the sight. It didn't feel right.

When she started to speak, they sort of panicked. They couldn't control the situation this time, they couldn't control her, and they didn't have proper answers for it. At least, not the kind of answers that would help them.

Most of all, they were confused. As she confronted them with facts, about how their strange behaviour with her and their motivations, they were forced to acknowledge the reality of everything.

That she meant more than they thought. Way more than they wanted her to. It was a liability. A problem. An unexpected turn of events they weren't prepared for.

And because they weren't prepared, they simply said the words that sounded logical at the moment. Cold statements of what they all knew, of what they agreed on the beginning. They didn't truly mean it, as they would realize later, but they felt cornered. And at the moment, the only strenght they could rely on was their pride.

They foolishly thought she would stay after that. That she would see their point of view and calm down.

As expected, she didn't. When it fell on them the terrible error they made, it was late. She left the place. Emptied it of whatever part of her and blocked them from her life.

And as expected, the aftermath was fucking disastrous.

Being deprived so suddenly from her presence after getting used to have her near everyday was hellish. No more calls, no more dates, no more lazy afternoons in the couch. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in their lives that they couldn't fill, no matter how much they tried. And god knows they did.

No vice or person could replace the feelings she invoked in them.

They turned down invitations, calls of friends, choosing to stay at home and just hang out by themselves. Staying at home too long drove them insane, but going out wasn't much better. She was everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the people. It was a nightmare.

When a close friend of theirs invited them to the opening of club, they only accepted in hopes for a distraction, and to keep appareances a bit. But the cold, boring night inmediately acquired a brilliant colour when they saw her.

More beautiful than ever, with her pretty dress and carefully done make-up. Her damned smile brightened the whole club and, for a moment, they felt in peace. Like nothing changed.

Until they saw she wasn't alone. Her warm arms, who used to be held by them, were now occupied by other men. Some they didn't know. A pair of strangers taking their rightful places, and she just laughed and danced with them like it was normal.

They spent the whole night like that, watching her and brooding, with that familiar green boiling in their stomach. She looked gorgeous, out of this world, and it wasn't fucking fair. That should be them. She should have been with them, filling their ears with her cute laugh and letting them wrap their arms over her.

Deep down, they knew they fucked up. It was solely their fault. They had their chance to make her stay, to trap her, and they messed up. ¿Why did things have to be this way? Why did they have to realize the size of their mistake in a moment of jealousy? It was stupid.

When they saw her walking outside alone, they exchanged a glance and they knew it.

They made several mistakes, but they learnt from them. Having her hating them was better than not having her at all, so they followed.

It was so easy to fall back into routine. She was already weakened by their presence, and it was the same for them too. Some yelling here and there, insults being thrown back and forth, a bit of fighting, but they ended up right where they wanted: Locked bathroom, against a wall, and the music covering their moans.

They didn't stop until she was bursting with their cum, pushing it right back inside where a drop ran down her legs. Until there wasn't a single trace of skin unmarked. Until she couldn't fucking walk without their help.

And when few weeks later, she showed up in their apartment with three positive tests, they pretended to be shocked and made her move in with them.

They could already see the picture she would make. It was going to be perfect.

(i had this shit collecting dust in my drafts for a millenia and today i had a strange burst of inspiration to finish it. sorry for the waiting to those who asked for this part)

Taglist: @hanjisunglover @queenmea604 @linlinaert @bluducky @jinnie-ret @aalexyuuuhm @noellllslut @skzms @thightswideforhanin @aliensfoundthisblogl @k-krissten @stayconnecteed @hanjibug @roseykat

#skz scenarios #skz imagine #han jisung scenarios #lee know scenarios #minsung x reader #han jisung imagine #lee know imagine #minsung imagine #minsung scenario

[the-curse-of-neoclones]

Moderneopets Artist Mistreatment

Edit as of 11/16/23 10:40 AM NST:

Removed names where I failed to do so before. I'm very sorry to the affected parties, this snowballed so far out of my intended scope.

Edit as of 11/16/23 5:30 PM NST

Please see this post for a small update.

As of 11/16/23 10:10 PM NST, Hazer the site owner has formally and publicly apologized to myself and Velu, the other affected artist. As far as I'm concerned he has officially handled the situation as best as he could, and I hold no further qualms with Moderneopets. I hope to hear of its management continuing in this direction.

The following post is left up for archival purposes only.

*****

Hello, I’m wren. I'm an artist responsible for some of the pet assets on the neoclone, Moderneopets. I'm just going to get into it.

Hazer was extremely lucky to somehow cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. When it comes to his own management as a site runner, he’s largely hands-off of the art department, which is a good thing! If he can’t be active in the art panel enough to know what goes on in there, he shouldn’t be running it— we have many strong, capable artists on the team who are passionate about recreating the neopets style, who work together on every pet that has been released ever since critique became a requirement. 

It makes sense that, with a project this large, Hazer should have to designate moderators to enforce rules when he is absent. Choosing to bring on moderators was also a good decision. Unfortunately, he chose poorly. 

Art panel issues should have separate Art panel moderators to take care of them. People who are not overburdened with generic moderation duties from the many other channels of the server, for example. In the same vein, artists should not be moderators. When an artist has an issue with another artist, who happens to be a moderator (which has happened many times, with many people— If the mods actually open threads for all complaints they receive, they should have evidence of this & if they don’t they are not being truthful), the artist would likely not feel comfortable approaching that same artist-slash-moderator to complain about what happened. It breeds an aura of fear and discomfort any time there is an issue with an artist/mod, and that is why the two moderators on the team should have to choose one or the other if hazer wants to cultivate a healthy atmosphere in his panel. 

I’ve created many pets for this website. Neopets has been a passion of mine since the third grade. I’m also one of those professional artists I mentioned— my work is also art, industry or otherwise. I care about breaking neopets down into their core, recognizable shapes. I care about keeping them on-model and in the spirit of the original TNT art team, with improvements made where I and the other panelists think they make sense. I have redlined for other artists to an even greater degree, just as other artists have redlined for me and helped me finalize each pet into something simply good: something that made sense to get put on a little passion project website for other people with a similar passion to enjoy. I found the panel to be a community of likeminded artists with which to discuss our favorite childhood petsite while we made art for a clone, as if we could pretend we were making art for neopets-dot-com. It was nice. 

It wasn’t perfect, though. In fact, shortly after I joined in 2021 I took a hiatus because the art panel was fairly dead. I came back a little while later to see we had several new species, as well as an art director, and lots of activity! That was very exciting. Over the next year I would reach out to the panel or, if nobody was sure of how to proceed, I would reach out to the art director to propose ideas for how to make the panel a little more functional; quality of life updates, if you will. I don’t take credit for all of these alone, there were other artists with similar ideas all communicating to the director in private, but some examples: 

A designated “collab” zone where artists could seek out other artists to complete pets with. 

“The Purge,” in which the team was whittled down to ~25 current, active artists to refresh the team and allow for new artists to join. 

“The Approval System,” which I first sat down with in my workshop (public to all artists) to hammer out the details with as many other artists as wanted to give their input— a method for pitching new ideas to eventually break through the “new species/color freeze” that had been plaguing us.

Speaking on the approval system: like most things that required Hazer’s direct input in the art team, it was left without response for a very long time. Artists with ideas for custom species or colors would occasionally murmur about their excitement for the system to get a look-over by hazer, to see if our approval system pitch would be approved. But hazer is busy, as we all know, and the pitch sat for a while. We had new & returning artists on the team to keep everyone busy. 

What I would expect from a years-old panel of artists, when new additions arrive, would be some manner of tutorial. New artists would need to know the pipeline (here’s your workshop, you can post WIPs and anything else in there; here’s how you ping for critique, here are the spaces in which to ask for it; make sure you always ping before your work is submitted on-site), and there would likely be some acclimating on both sides. What I did not expect (but should have), was pushback from new artists on things that hadn’t had pushback in a long time. Why can’t [x] color be a posechange? Well, we’ve created many already and none of them were posechanges. Why can’t I use colored lineart? Well, that isn’t in line with the style standards set by this color; see, nobody else is coloring their lineart. 

Suddenly there was a divide between veteran artists, the director, and the new blood. The divide felt greater when Hazer came to his new artist’s aid to say, approximately: “Eh, if someone wants to go above and beyond and make better art, they shouldn’t have to adhere to the guidelines.” Then he threw the art director under the bus for not somehow knowing that his intentions were always to keep the panel loose and unstructured. But don’t worry, that isn’t the first bus and won’t be the last.

My personal investment in the panel waned around that time. I think a structured “work” environment with easily accessible rules and deadlines is necessary to any project of this size. If we didn’t want to enforce color standards, nor prioritize certain colors for release, and anyone could just submit whatever Nice Art they wanted, why not open it up so any user could submit pet art? Why have a panel at all? Isn’t Hazer taking any opportunity to dunk on Leopets because he wants his site to be better? How is this different? 

But I stuck around. This was a hobby I really enjoyed, after all, and I really believed it could get better. It had a good core, and despite my grievances with individual artists, none of them were bad people. 

But I noticed some trends. New artists would receive feedback that they didn’t agree with and retaliate by bringing in their emotions or personal preferences. Any disagreement where multiple veteran artists stepped in to say their piece would escalate to the point of very long messages on both sides, and would need to be left to hazer to give a final input. Often he didn’t come around to it, because he’s busy, as we know. I didn’t step in to every argument; they became cyclical after a while, and I didn’t have the time or energy to spend simply tapping the proverbial sign (or style sheet). I would try to give positive suggestions when I could, for example: I don’t think this color needs another alt for just one single design, but we did talk about eventually making this color that your design would fit into really well. 

I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet. I really just want an art environment where the rules are set and people actually enjoy following them, because I do— I see art rules as helpful guidelines at best and obstacles to cleverly navigate at worst, which is still fun. But of course not everyone is going to feel the same way, that’s normal; that’s life. 

On 11/9 I was given this message by Hazer: 

It reads:

Hello wren,

I am reaching out to you today to inform you that effective immediately you are being dismissed from the Artist and Consultant Panels. This decision has been reached through discussions and based on repeated offences in the form of user harassment and subjecting the panels to a toxic atmosphere, after multiple reports and concerns brought up to us by other users.

While we understand concerns regarding panel management, there is a distinct difference between criticising and condeming the way the panel does things and criticising and condeming users that are on the panel, and we believe this line has been crossed one too many times, further supported by concerns brought to us.

We appreciate the passion and drive of our team—all of them—and we understand you have been very passionate about the panel. Given some of the messages we see, we have also concluded that due to things in the panel not working out as you have wished, it has caused you much stress and upset as well, which we do not want. All in all, we've decided that the atmosphere of the panel and your own enjoyment of the website are hampered by your presence on it. Because of this, we have decided it is best to have you part ways with the staff sections of the website.

Effective immediately after this message, we will be permanently removing you from the panels. While normally we do a temporary removal, in this case we've seen that your compatability with our management and handling of the panel will not improve, and it will just bring stress to both sides.

We understand you have put a lot of passion into the projects you have been working on for release in Moderneopets, and in lieu of that, we offer you the option of having the project(s) still be released even after dismissal. Rewards will still be granted for releases per usual, and credit will still be given. If you decide, due to dismissal, you do not want your unreleased work to be released on Moderneopets, simply state it as such, and we will discard all progress on projects you have been working on to respect those wishes.

This decision is final and will not be revoked.

Best wishes to you,

The Moderneopets Team

[end caption]

My response:

It reads: 

No warnings huh?

[end caption]

Hazer didn’t have an answer for me. I was already removed from the panel. 

This came as a shock. I’d been there for over two years, I felt I had a good rapport with the other artists, I felt I’d been a helpful and active addition to the team. Like I said, I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet… what toxic behavior? Discussions over style guides? Giving redlines to people with permission? Working with the whole team to bolster several new color releases? I had an entire species that Hazer wanted ready to go since March— I just pushed through the Swamp Gas release, I just created the Mystical alt? 

No warnings?

Let me reiterate: I have never been spoken to by any staff about my behavior. Hazer, his then-four moderators— none of them have ever been in my DMs to issue a warning. I have spoken TO the mods about others’ behaviors, and nothing ever came of it. The one time (and I mention this for full transparency only) the art director came to talk to me about something I said, it was stated clearly that it was not a warning, and even so I adjusted my behavior around said issue accordingly. And that was well before the purge. 

But, don’t take my word for it. Here it is from hazer himself, speaking over his mods who were busy telling the rest of the panel that they always issue warnings: 

It reads:

No in this case I do agree that this has been an abrupt situation and I understand the blind-sided-ness of it. No official warnings were given out regarding the actions that resulted in the removal of artists today and that’s on fault of myself and deebs not working things out properly despite the moderation team bringing issues to a us a few times – also due to our lack of availability recently.  [end caption]

So… What happened? Well… here it is from Hazer, in longform: 

For those who use screen readers, above are several enormous discord screenshots; I've placed it in a paste bin here: https://pastebin.com/dHLiBRTF

Two other artists immediately stepped down. Hazer admits here in his message that he and the mods had multiple tickets opened about my behavior, that they had known they wanted to remove me. They never gave a warning, never talked to me until the moment of my dismissal, but they had known it was coming for months? 

Why did Hazer and his gang of mods let me continue working on art for their panel? Why did they let me work so hard to pull Swamp Gas together for an official release? Why did they let me put together a whole custom Alt and workshop it for so long? I’ve been active this whole time. Why did you let me keep working if you knew you wanted me gone? 

I am a professional artist. My work is art. Hazer made the knowing decision to exploit my time and effort for his website. He’s not paying me, he’s not paying any of us. It’s volunteer work. But I did not volunteer to be mistreated like this. To not even be given a chance to defend myself. To him, artists are disposable. To him, if someone has worked on your team for years but speaks up when your friend tries to overturn the system, even civil discussion is cause for disposal. Civil discussion negates years of effort, passion, time and care. 

I didn’t have to make art for you, Hazer. And you don’t deserve the team you have. How many artists have voiced their discomfort with your actions? How many artists are taking a break from the panel because of how you handled this? Ah, wait, you wouldn’t know… you’re busy. 

Hazer and his mod team are just another corrupt group of individuals unfortunately heading what could have been a fun and promising petsite. Everyone who speaks praise of modneo does it by and large because of the new and unique art. Hazer was extremely lucky to cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. 

If Hazer wants to show any sign of his potential to be a better person, I believe he needs to formally apologize to his site for the misuse of his power and the mistreatment and exploitation of artists on his team. He needs to apologize to you, the players of his game, the subscribers to his patreon, for allowing this to happen under his watch and under his word. You know you fucked up, hazer. You shouldn’t have sided with your friend without any actual evidence of misconduct. You shouldn’t have spoken about me like I was a toxic, subhuman hindrance to your art team. You shouldn’t have treated me like that. I didn’t deserve it. None of us did. You can apologize to me and the other lost artists publicly.

#moderneopets #virtu.pet #grundos cafe #neopets #neotag #modneo #moderneo

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The Guardian, Chapter 4

In which we finally get a look inside Mildrithe’s head and what she’s thinking/feeling about her new elf friend. As a reminder, Haldir and Mildrithe have just arrived at the closest warden post, where he intends to deliver her to the capable hands of someone else who can get her the rest of the way to Caras Galadhon for help while he goes back to his post to resume his duties. Except he’s not feeling great about that plan anymore. Parts one, two and three are available if you want to catch up. And, because I will use it until the end of time, here is the beloved official artwork of this story, courtesy of the many talents of @brigwife

*****

Mildrithe followed Haldir up a thin rope ladder and into yet another tree. Before the last few days, she would have found this odd, but he seemed to consider trees a perfectly natural place to spend time. And she didn’t mind. Nothing had ever hurt her while in a tree, and she couldn’t say the same for being on the ground.

Like the tall beech where the two of them had spent the previous night, this tree also had a shelter built into its boughs, but the two structures couldn’t have been more different. While last night’s dwelling place was a stark, bare platform, this one had multiple levels spaced throughout the branches, and each contained stores of food and weapons, bedrolls, blankets, water cisterns and other accessories of daily living. And most significantly, this platform had other people on it–people who looked much like Haldir, tall and strong with golden or white-blonde hair and pointed ears. Ellath, he had called them.

Her arrival on the platform drew a lot of interest, and she shrank a little from all the eyes suddenly on her. Haldir spoke rapidly to these ellath, and she guessed from the sound of her own name that he was explaining to them who she was and how she came to be there, though there was much that he still didn’t know, that she kept locked away in the back corners of her own mind. But his words took the attention off of her, and she used the moment to surreptitiously observe his companions.

Rúmil she had met, and he seemed to be closest to Haldir both in appearance and in manner, but there were six others who crowded around as he spoke. She had the distinct sense that Haldir was in charge–the others showed clear deference to him–and she wondered for a moment if he was the king of his people. But, then, he didn’t act like any king she had heard of, not when he spent his time wandering alone in a forest, climbing in and out of trees and eating only whatever small scraps of food he carried on him.

Her eyes swept back over the new faces. She found them all fascinating to look at, both so similar to the men she knew and yet also undefinably different, and she was staring intently when the words of her mother suddenly rang in her ears. “No one likes to be gawked at, Mildrithe.” The memory of that admonishment sent both a hot blush to her cheeks and a wrenching pain to her chest. She worked so hard not to have those memories, but still they came, unbidden, to remind her of her old life. She sniffled a little in an attempt to keep control of herself, and though he didn’t look down or break from the conversation he was having, Haldir heard the sniffle and his hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

After a lengthy discussion, the group dispersed, each member going on to some specific task. Rúmil brought her water and food–fresh fruit, honeycomb and nuts–which she accepted eagerly, having gone days with no food at all and then being confined only to what Haldir had available in his small pack. She dug in with enthusiasm, making a bit of a mess with the sticky honey, and for a time she thought of nothing but sating her own hunger. Halfway through her rations, however, the words of her mother once again sprang unexpectedly to her mind –“what’s ours is ours to share”—and the sting of remembrance did not stop her from turning obediently to look for Haldir, to ensure he had food of his own. He sat alone a short distance away, looking sorrowfully at a small white flower that he turned between his fingers. She recognized it right away as the niphredil flower she had given him the day before, and the unhappiness of his expression sent a warning chill through her. Something was wrong, but she had no idea what it could be.

As she picked at the remains of her food and tried not to brood on the meaning behind his sadness, the other wardens around him were busy stocking several packs in preparation for some kind of departure. Eventually a pack was handed to her, and she looked inside to find her own water canteen, some wrapped food, and a blanket. Any notion that they were going to stay here at this strange little tree camp faded quickly from her mind, and she was not surprised when Haldir and Rúmil gestured for her to follow them back to the ground just a few minutes later.

Rúmil and two others hoisted packs to their shoulders, and Haldir helped to secure hers to her back with several straps. She accepted the help but watched with rising concern as he made no move to lift his own pack or join the little group of travelers. The food she had just eaten suddenly felt like lead in her stomach, and she stared into the deep blue of his eyes, trying to force some kind of sign or acknowledgment that would quiet her fears and assure her that she was drawing the wrong conclusions from the activity around her. Instead, he looked away, and her concern edged toward panic.

When the others seemed ready to leave at last, a few final words were exchanged between Haldir and Rúmil, and then Haldir knelt down in front of her. He opened his mouth as though to speak but thought better of it and took her hand instead, holding it between both of his. When he released his grip, the niphredil blossom sat in her palm. He turned away quickly, rubbing a hand roughly across his chin, and went to stand by the ladder, looking down at the ground as Rúmil lightly gripped her elbow and tugged her into motion.

She staggered forward in unthinking compliance, but each time a foot struck the ground a voice in her head screamed at her to stop. Not to move even a single step further away from the one person she trusted. Tears welled up in her eyes and started to slide down her cheeks, and by the tenth step the voice in her head was so loud that she clutched at her own ears. It made no sense, even in her own mind, to be so attached to him already, but the feeling was undeniably there. He had shown her true kindness, the first person in her life for many months who didn’t want to scare her or hurt her or use her. He was awkward, but he was gentle. Her heart told her that he was safe. That he was good. And she absolutely didn’t want to be parted from him now in order to go on with total strangers.

She looked back over her shoulder in desperation, and when her eyes met Haldir's, a sob ripped through her. Her view of him blurred through her tears and she whimpered his name, but always she felt Rúmil’s hand on her arm, pulling her onward.

“Daro!”

The word exploded from Haldir’s lips and echoed in the trees. Rúmil dropped her elbow and came to a halt, and she used the freed arm to wipe a sleeve across her eyes. With some tears cleared away, she could see Haldir rushing forward, his pack in his hand. He spoke urgently to Rúmil, pointing both back in the direction they had come and forward in the direction they were headed. Rúmil interjected a few times, but before long he raised his hands in a gesture of concession and turned to head back to the tree camp. The other two wardens in the traveling group, Esgalorn and Mirdanion, exchanged looks with one another, brows raised. But neither said anything, and Haldir ignored them. He used the corner of his cloak to wipe the remaining tears from her face, took her hand, and started walking.

The immensity of her relief brought a whole new energy to her spirit. She felt that she could have easily sprinted the entire distance to wherever they were going, though, in fact, she had no idea where that was or how long it would take. But she hustled along at his side anyway, and whenever he glanced down at her, she beamed at him, eager to show just how glad she was to be with him. He always smiled back, but once his eyes were looking forward again the smile would fade. Something still seemed to weigh on his mind, and she reasoned that he was probably worrying about what would happen next, once they arrived wherever they were headed. She had been that way once, too—thinking about the future, making plans, trying to anticipate later problems or griefs—but not anymore. If the last year had taught her anything, it was that the future couldn’t be counted on. All she had was the present and how she felt in the here and now. And right now, at his side, was good. She wished she could tell him that.

The four of them traveled on for the rest of the day, Haldir and Mildrithe together in front and Mirdanion and Esgalorn following behind, keeping up a steady patter of conversation between them. The sound of their words faded into background noise to Mildrithe, and she focused only on what was immediately in front of her. She hopped in and out of the dappled shadows cast on the ground by the swaying, leafy branches above and tracked the sun as it worked its way across the sky. Eventually twilight settled on the forest, the first bright stars appearing in the purplish-blue overhead, and Mildrithe had just begun to wonder whether they were going to spend the night at another makeshift camp when Haldir pointed to faint, twinkling lights on the horizon. Some large city or settlement lay ahead, just across a narrow moat and behind a large, circular wall of green earth. They soon picked up a path that skirted along the wall and at last reached a set of great silver gates. Inside was a city unlike anything Mildrithe had ever imagined.

Caras Galadhon was filled with immense golden-leaved trees, each with a silvery smooth trunk, and the entire city was built into their canopy. White ladders led into many of the trees while others had wooden staircases that wound around the trunks and up into the highest boughs. Lanterns bobbed in the branches, throwing out little golden halos of light, and in this glow could be seen people moving to and fro—tall, graceful people, more of the ellath that Mildrithe was now growing used to seeing. But even as elves were becoming a normal presence in her life, their city took her breath away, and she stopped in her tracks to gape about her. Her mind rushed to catalog beautiful details, to automatically store them away so that she could later describe even a fraction of the magic of this place to her unbelieving family back home, and only the painfully sharp self-correction that she would never have that chance was enough to break the spell of her awe and amazement. She dug her fingernails into her palm, pushing until the stinging in her hand drew her mind away from the feelings and memories that had begun to seep back into her thoughts, and then she hurried after Haldir toward a hill where the largest tree she had ever seen sat like a crown atop the slope.

Someone dressed all in white came down a set of stairs from the tree, moving so smoothly and calmly he almost appeared to float. Esgalorn and Mirdanion bowed, and she noted that even Haldir gave this new figure deep respect. He was clearly someone of importance in the city, perhaps their leader, and so when Haldir gestured for her to come forward, she also bowed. This seemed to amuse the leader, and she hoped that was a good sign, an indication that she would be viewed with favor. He bent down and took a long, slow look at her, and though the scrutiny made her uncomfortable, she didn’t feel that his eyes had any hostility in them. He seemed rather to be gathering information, able to discern far more about her from just his penetrating gaze than she could ever determine from merely looking back at him. She shifted nervously on her feet until he stood at last and turned back to Haldir. A short, low conversation between them followed, and when some point of agreement seemed to be reached, he nodded to Haldir and to her before reascending the stairs, gliding off out of sight.

Hadir dismissed Esgalorn and Mirdanion, who turned off in another direction, and then led Mildrithe down a series of curved paths away from the center of the city. It had by now grown dark, but the pathways and trees were well lit and Haldir seemed certain of his route. She assumed they were headed to a place where they could rest for the night, and their surroundings did get quieter and less crowded as they went. At last, he stopped at the foot of a curved staircase that led up into yet another tree dwelling. He patted a hand against his chest and pointed up the stairs, repeating the gesture several times until he seemed confident that she understood. “Mine,” was her interpretation, and as she followed him up the stairs, she felt a wave of excited curiosity at the idea of seeing his home, the private space where he would be most himself.

The sound of her little boots clomping on the stair treads reverberated in the trees, and soon a curious face appeared at a railing above, drawn by the unexpected noise. A woman peered down at them, and when she saw Haldir on the landing she gave a small gasp and began to run toward him, holding up the hem of her dress so that she could race down the stairs at maximum speed. She had the same elegant beauty and pointed ears as everyone else in the city, though her hair and eyes were both a rich dark brown, and her face was lit up by a wide, brilliant smile. Haldir dropped his pack in just enough time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms, and he spun her around, laughing and smiling with a joyful ease that Mildrithe had never seen from him. She watched their affectionate reunion with unabashed fascination, and her questions about who this woman could be were soon answered when they shared a deep, loving kiss. An inadvertent giggle popped out of Mildrithe’s mouth at the sight of that kiss, and the couple quickly separated, blushing but still smiling at one another.

Haldir rushed through a bunch of words, gesturing repeatedly at Mildrithe, who stood up extra straight and smoothed a hand quickly over her hair and down the front of her dress. If this woman was important to Haldir, then she was important to Mildrithe, and she wanted to make the best possible first impression. At last, he spoke Mildrithe’s name and then pointed to the woman. “Idhrien,” he said slowly and clearly, a hand on his wife’s arm. Mildrithe smiled at her and proudly repeated the words of greeting she had heard at the forest post. “Mae govannen, Idhrien.”

Idhrien stooped down in front of her until she was at Mildrithe’s eye level, and returned the smile. “Westu Mildrithe hal,” she said, and Mildrithe’s heart cracked open in her chest.

She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had heard her own language, since she had even that most basic comfort of being able to understand what was being said around her and about her. Over time, her awareness of the loss had dulled, but just to hear those few short words now brought back a feeling of warmth and familiarity that she had desperately missed. She would have wept with gratitude if she wasn’t also so eager to speak and to listen now that she finally could.

“How…how do you know those words?”

“My brother was a great lover of languages,” said Idhrien, “and he spent a fair amount of time traveling in your land and learning what he could. He then taught it to me so that he would have someone to practice with when he was home in Lórien.”

“Lórien?”

“That’s where you are. Haldir found you on our borders and brought you here to our chief city. He tells me that you’ve made a very long journey and that you’ve been a very brave girl. He’s proud of you.”

Mildrithe blushed with pleasure at the compliment and looked up at him, watching attentively from his wife’s side. “I want to thank him, but I don’t know how.”

Idhrien smiled again. “Don’t worry. He already knows.”

She stood and gestured for Mildrithe to follow, and they went the rest of the way up the stairs. Once inside their home, they gave her more food and water and a comfortable place to sit with soft cushions and a warm blanket. Idhrien offered her the chance to rest or to take a bath, but there was nothing Mildrithe wanted to do more than to talk—or, more precisely, to ask questions. She had a steady stream of them, about Lórien and elves, about living in a tree, about Haldir and what a marchwarden does, and Idhrien patiently answered them all, taking time to translate for Haldir as she went.

These were all things Mildrithe wanted to know, but they were also safe questions, about other things and other people. She studiously avoided any question about what might be planned for her—where she would go, who she would be with—because she wasn’t at all sure she would like the answer. But eventually, Idhrien seemed to notice the evasion, and she gently curtailed Mildrithe’s questions with one of her own.

“Would you like to know what’s going to happen now that you’re here?”

Mildrithe hugged a pillow to her chest, torn about how to answer. She didn’t want to say yes, but neither did she think she could say no. She settled instead on a vague, non-committal hummed noise.

“Right now, you’ll stay here with us until the Lord and Lady decide what’s to be done. You have nothing to fear from them; they’re good and kind people. Haldir has told Lord Celeborn what he knows, but they will surely have more questions about where you’re from and where you belong. Can you tell us about your home? Your family?”

Mildrithe’s initial joy at being allowed to stay with Haldir and Idhrien was replaced immediately by a heavy anxiety that flooded into her chest. To even think about her home and family was to break her own cardinal rule, and to talk about them with others—to say the words out loud and thereby make those words real—was unthinkable. Her little face grew hot, and she bunched up her skirt in her fists.

“Mildrithe? Are you alright?”

Idhrien was looking at her with real concern, but that only intensified Mildrithe’s distress. The last thing she wanted to do was to disappoint or upset them, but she had never told this story to anyone else. And she was terrified to do it now.

Haldir reached across to take Mildrithe’s hand, and he spoke to her directly for several moments. When he was done, he nodded at Idhrien.

“He says that he understands that you’re afraid, but he promises to keep you safe. He was honored to have your trust when you were together in the forest, and he hopes that you will honor him again by continuing to trust him now.”

Mildrithe looked from his hand up to his steady, calm eyes. The same eyes that had found her when she was lost. Watched over her while she slept. Noticed when she was hungry or thirsty or in pain. He had protected her at every turn, and he had offered her comfort and affection when even she could recognize that it wasn’t always easy for him to show his feelings. A realization slowly dawned on her–if she couldn’t share this pain with someone like him, someone who had shown her so much care, then she might never be able to share it with anyone. And the prospect of carrying it alone, perhaps for all the days of her life, suddenly felt much more terrifying than facing it together with him now.

She stood and inched hesitantly toward him, and he understood her intention right away, lifting her up to sit on his lap. She leaned her cheek against his chest, and for a time all three of them sat in silence, with only their quiet breathing and the soft beating of Haldir’s heart in her ear. And just when he began to wonder whether she had perhaps drifted off to sleep, she opened her mouth and began her story.

*****

Notes: “Daro” means “stop”/“halt”.

Idhrien (which means “thoughtful”) started life as a reader character in my Haldir story Three Weeks on the Nimrodel. She’s the same person here, just with a name. She’s a city warden in Caras Galadhon, though she and Haldir met and fell in love when she was posted temporarily to the border and found a way past his natural reserve and introversion by respecting it and making him feel at ease as himself. Even in that story, she had a brother that traveled in Rohan and taught her Rohirric, so that worked out well here, too!

I don’t have a super clear idea of where the next chapter is going, so it may take me a while. Just FYI.

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #haldir #mildrithe #sweet reserved guys with the little girls who melt their hearts

[who-is-page]

Digital Bloodsports and Inked Paws: What I Love About the Alterhuman Communities

This is an essay from my website that I wrote in 2021 for my alterhuman NaNoWriMo project, about the things I appreciate and adore in the alterhuman community. I wanted to post the edited, finalized version on here, too. It's a little over 1,600 words long and about an 8-minute read.

It’s easy to talk about what I find aggravating or difficult to deal with in the alterhuman communities—complaints are a dime a dozen, especially since I’m rapidly approaching my ten-year anniversary of activity (is that the barest hint of salt-and-pepper I spy in my muzzle?) But even with all my criticisms, there’s a lot I love about the various parts of the alterhuman communities. There are more wonderful quirks in these groups than I think we ever realize or genuinely acknowledge.

And if there’s one thing that I don’t think the alterhuman communities are given enough credit and love for, it’s our collective ability to never shut the fuck up.

In these spaces, people are always doing, or saying, or creating something. In some ways it reminds me of college, with something always happening somewhere, no matter the weather, time, or day. Whether dead of night or coldest winter day, you’d always be able to find a party, or a study group, or a sportsball match—and in the same way, wherever you are in the alterhuman communities, there’s always something going on: a debate or discussion, a convention (big or small), a newbie asking for help with their identity, a bunch of older alterhumans shooting the shit, a new term being banged out, art and games and comics being created and commented on, collaborative projects or surveys or groups being advertised. The list goes on and on—someone, somewhere, is always dipping their paws in ink, it seems.

Our community thrives off our interactions with one another, and that’s fundamentally shaped both the subcultural elements—such as the way we so highly value content creators and writers, and people who have been in the community for long periods of time and can share stories and experiences that we might otherwise have no knowledge of—and the bizarre forms of (n)etiquette and discourse that we constantly see evolving and changing. It’s a beautiful thing to witness in real-time, watching the customs and terminology and language we have change and shift over the years, and watching the wheels of discourse turn their spokes into previously uncharted waters, a new subject to be written and examined by an invested collective.

It’s a testament to the diversity and fluidity in alterhuman experiences and identity, the fact that so many people with so many different experiences and different explanations can come together time and time again; space and space again; all to hash out their ideas and their thoughts and their differences and their similarities. All to share in the beauty of being other with one another. It’s a sight to behold, like an ocean of a thousand different blues all forming wave after wave of colors, and I get to be a lucky painter who’s too stunned to even figure out where to look first.

Our community’s perchance for debate (or, more accurately, for digital bloodsports) is also something I absolutely adore. Maybe I’m just a young hooligan who’s ready to fistfight the first person who comes through my door at any given moment, with my Ye Olde Discourse days still singing through my veins, but I love the willingness of so many people and groups in this community to throw down over what they believe and their opinions. It’s an admirable fighting spirit that I see in so many alterhumans and, whatever the reason for it, it’s something I feel a deep kinship regarding.

People in these communities care with their whole chest. It gets us in trouble often, but I don’t think these groups and subcultures and identities would be the same without it: we’re loud. We’re stubborn. We inevitably butt heads, but it’s what makes us, us. But it’s more than just our tenacity that I’m talking about here. Being alterhuman, at least in the spaces that I personally find myself in, is about being unabashedly yourself, in whatever wacky, interesting, bizarre, wild, feral way that might translate to.

It’s reminiscent of the queer spaces I’ve been in previously, both in how it harnesses a sense of aggressive pride sometimes, with attitudes of “Yeah, I’m not human—if that’s a problem for you, get lost!” and in how it just purely makes me feel unafraid and unashamed to be nonhuman. This is something I’ve experienced especially at Howls and other in-person group meet-ups.

When I spend time in-person with other alterhumans, it’d be silly to say there’s outright some sort of spark on connection or feeling of family—but there is a feeling of recognition. Of not an “us vs. the world” spark, but of an “we can all be ourselves here,” understanding. It’s so much less dramatic than some accounts I’ve heard, but it’s still a powerful, comfortable, enjoyable feeling. It’s knowing that you can go chasing after a squirrel with reckless abandon without getting judged, or can stop to roll in a pile of especially crunchy leaves just for the sensation of it, and isn’t that its own form of freedom?

And then there’s the beauty of individual identity. One of my favorite parts about my archival work is getting to learn and hear about identities that I’ve never seen before, especially if someone’s written a lot about the “how”s and “why”s. I love getting to not only see how other people experience things differently than I, myself, do, but I love getting to watch the gears in their brain turn as they explain how they got to one conclusion, or other possibilities they’ve considered, or any number of detail-oriented information. Getting to hear about shifts, especially shifts from identities we don’t often see like species-specific fictionkin, conceptkin, machinekin, and phyanthropes, is always such a treat. Hearing how it feels to experience phantom shifts as Southern Live Oak tree, or getting to read about mental shifts from an Alolan Marowak, or any other number of things I’ve been lucky enough to learn about in these communities, is sincerely, genuinely just the absolute coolest. Group experiences and concepts are amazing, but individual experiences are just as, if not more, spectacular.

And speaking on individuals…as a young, teenage nonhuman, I probably would have included a section about how much I admire or value the efforts and works of older alterhumans who are still in the community, and how much I especially enjoy getting to see their content in the communities. How they’re such “inspirations” for me and other such cheesy words. But that feeling has grown and changed a lot as I’ve gotten older: while I still appreciate all the greymuzzles and oldfruits in the community (shoutout to all you grey-furred and grey-scaled rapscallions out there), I feel like the individual age group I particularly appreciate is a lot of the younger folks and ‘new blood’ I’ve seen pop up in the communities.

It’s such a strange feeling to look at someone and go, “Oh man, you’re going to be an absolute force to be reckoned with when you’re older!” but that’s something I’ve definitely experienced. It’s a strange mixture of wistfulness, thinking about my own budding years in the alterhuman communities with probably rose-glassed fondness, and of before-the-fact pride, watching how passionate people are and already being proud of them: for achievements they haven’t yet made, and goals they haven’t yet realized, and selves they’re just now discovering.  It’s genuinely great to see the new, uncharted directions that a lot of the older teenagers are starting to pull and shove the communities in, bringing up old ideas in new ways or just throwing out new perspectives entirely. It makes me feel excited, filled with anticipation for what the future holds and how everything will look like in ten, twenty years.

It also does make me feel a little left behind and out of the times, admittedly, but that’s not a wholly bad thing: times change. Communities change. Our communities are based almost entirely on evolution, where they either continuously change, or they stagnate and die out. The fact that I’m feeling a little out-of-place more and more these days just means I’m settling into the aspects of my identity and the language that I grew up with for describing it is falling more out of use—it just means that I’m getting older and taking on a different niche than I inhabited when I was younger. When I was still a teenager in the community, I was the teeth-bloodied, hot-headed discourser who was willing to shout down and fight anything with a pulse, who was always in the thick of it no matter what “it” was. Now, I think I’m a lot closer to a scholar; jokingly a warrior-scholar, like my patron, if you had to reference the way I came into these communities, but overall, I’m a lot more content to sit it out on the sidelines these days and focus more on my own research and creation.

I wouldn’t stick around these community spaces if I truly didn’t want to be in them, but there’s so much I love wrapped in them that I don’t want to go, anyways. For every physical shifter that drives me up the wall, there’s a million more things that make me want to keep interacting with other nonhumans and alterhumans and that makes me want to keep being a part of specific alterhuman spaces. I love getting to be here, getting to watch how these communities evolve, getting to hear everyone’s stories; I’m glad I get to be a piece of it all, and I count myself lucky for any positive changes I can help affect just by being here. I would do better to remind myself of that more often.

#alterhuman #otherkin #therian #fictionkin #essay #I finished editing this in 2022 and then just totally spaced on ever posting it to my Tumblr

[vibingandsimping]

Hey hey, I hope ur having an amazing week!! I would like to get a baldurs gate 3 matchup. I am a bisexual with a preference for men. I'm an average guy, pale as a ghost, cause of me staying mostly inside. I present myself as friendly, quiet, preserved, just a guy who gets along w everyone. But sometimes ppl are weirded out or intimidated by me (being goth in a small Slavic town isn't best). I'm really awkward and anxious w many/new ppl. With friends I'm open, dramatic, a bit of a rambler and love to prank/scare them. I hate physical touches very much, I don't even let my friends hold hands or hug me, the most they are getting is a hand on shoulder or a handshake. But to ppl who are really close to me, I love cuddling and just sitting near them. I am really patient and understanding. I hate talking about feelings and am just horrible at comforting ppl, that's why I don't usually argue and just agree with a person and avoid expressing feelings (can't even say simple 'I love you' without big struggle). I have a self isolation problem too, when I get emotional. I love music and art in general, I play guitar and also am an artist, and once in a while I try myself in poetry, I consider myself a bit of philosophy nerd. Also love going to the park/forest for alone quiet time, I love hanging out there, or even exploring some abandoned buildings. I love to listen to people ramble on their interests, also I like to give presents to the person I like. I'm super obvious on any romantic hints, and get really blushful and nervous once I finally get them. Damn, I hope it ain't too long, anyway thanks, I love ur work and I think ur really talented!! Have a nice day/night!!

Thank you for the sweet compliments. <33

I feel Astarion would be fond of you.

Astarion has gone through too much trauma to have to adjust heavily. He can adapt, of course, but to find someone who shares similarities with him would be great. You two have a lot in common. Easy enough to bond over but it could cause some simple arguments or disagreements. I can really see you two chatting over wine and discussing topics of life. Also, maybe gossiping over something.

The tree bark under the back of your knees was a dull burn each time you shifted. It was something you grew accustomed to during your adventures. Next to you sat Astarion as he poured you two a glass of wine. His fingers cold as they brushed yours handing you the glass. He sighed and tilted his head back; enjoying the forest air. You smiled softly and took a sip as the crisp environment settled into you. The camp was stuffy and being surrounded by so many grew tiring. So, you both trailed off for some much needed alone time. “As much as I enjoy the company we’ve kept…” Astarion began, your eyes darting to him. “I really don’t think I can handle hearing everyone squabble over simple issues.” He sighed in exasperation. You laughed a little and rolled your shoulders back to allow yourself to relax. “Imagine having to lead that group.” You chirped and Astarion rumbled in amusement. There was a silent understanding of comfort between you two. Whatever romance blooming was new and unexplored territory. So, you really relished moments like this even if little words were spoken. Inching closer minute by minute. You felt the sharp cold of his hand against yours, instinctively wanting to flinch away. Inhaling shakily, you allowed him to sit close enough to rest hands together. Sipping the wine and making casual conversation. Despite the advancement, you felt no pressure to do so. You both knew you could back out if it became too much. It was nice.

#my asks #anon asks #matchups #my writing #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur’s gate 3 astarion

[martian-garden]

Discord Group was discussing how fear of AMAB bodies in queer spaces happened and here's my experience from watching some of the beginnings of modern "inclusive language" (afab, amab) getting weaponized. Putting it here in case anyone else has seen similar shit or is curious to see what happened to me. For the purposes of perspective, as this happened around me, I still identified as a woman at this time/was an egg.

>not to oversimplify how we got here, but basically a bunch of feminists (real) started talking about the trauma many women have with men (valid). and then a bunch of (ime) baby feminists who had not done an extensive amount of work and had lost the plot of Gender Equality being the intended result of feminism started blaming men as individuals for the patriarchy, instead of other people caught up in an unbelievably complex system in which all players are trapped. and then that validated people's reflexive distrust for transfem people and nb amabs, AND trans men who pass, and ALSO hurt cis men who are BTW ALSO VICTIMS HERE, THERE ARE VERY FEW WINNERS IN TOXIC MASCULINITY, it's a societal framework, not a deliberate attempt unless you're fuckin andrew tate or someone richer than balls with serious social swing. and yeah then we got to a point where like. afab people of all genders are sometimes rly fucking asinine around amab people of all genders bc they've been taught that their trauma responses, which are frequently genuine, are in fact okay reasons to treat people like shit

>that's my take anyway

>it's imo part of a broader societal phenomenon where the access to information about therapy and therapy terms and concepts without being able to GO to therapy bc of trash healthcare costs and lack of coverage means that people are validating each other's trauma without the main core of therapy, which is doing work to mitigate it. so you have a lot of people repeating stuff like "your feelings are valid" while missing the plot, which is that no. feelings are feelings. they're things that happen to you for (a) reason(s), and they're not your FAULT, but they should not dictate your behavior. feelings are like a sensory input. they are information and a reaction that you need to work in concert with. and sometimes they don't like something that they have no business not liking, or that maybe they have business disliking, but WOULD HURT OTHER PEOPLE if you acted on them.

The issue is that people are trying to use therapy terms to justify themselves and their pain (ok) but not actually realizing that it's part of a maladaptive response that does damage--to you and to the people around you (not ok). but bc they don't have access to the second half of that, they just get stuck in a loop of Bad Feeling = sign to avoid thing or Bad Feeling = i shouldn't have to feel that way, without critically engaging with why or how it's also kind of your responsibility to make yourself not feel bad.

This essay brought to you by a guy who spent 4 years at a college with 4 therapists, at least 2 of whom were quacks (small town, no off-campus resources) and 1300 students, over half of which were in some kind of active crisis at any given time. I watched the Sexuality and Gender Alliance club start hosting events "only for women and afabs" bc amab people, regardless of sometimes being women, were going to make it so that people were traumatized, despite pushback from several AFAB NB PEOPLE who didn't like being lumped in with women or divorced from their own masculinity.

btw if you're wondering, the painting of AFAB people as victims and inherently vulnerable DEFINITELY contributed to the TERF notion of women being inherently harmless, in need of protection, and also that femininity is delicate. It just reinforced the shitty gender norms that OG feminists wanted to destroy. It's very fucked up.

Anyway to any young feminists: AMAB people are your friends, your allies, your family. trans people's assigned sex or genitals are not inherently traumatizing, just like someone's scarring isn't inherently traumatizing. Trauma isn't a god. Stop giving it that power to hurt other people, even if you don't perceive them as vulnerable--bc GUESS WHAT, EVERYBODY IS- and rob you of some of the most precious connections you'll ever have.

#queer #mars speaks #personal experience #i don't wanna tag this queer history bc i am not a universal experience. #but idk did other people see this happen? #i'm at the end of the millennials and beginning of gen Z for people of similar ages to weigh in. #PLEASE by all means lmk if you have experiences that inform on this phenomena #gender #transgender

[andivmg]

(big paragraph rant ahead thanks to madison beer’s memoir)

okay so i finished reading The Half of It today and i have a lot of thoughts. but i’m gonna post just the pages that spoke to me the most in regard to online stuff and rant

i remember 2021 as being literally one of the worst years of my life this far because of twitter (obviously a bunch of personal stuff too but yk). to this day i’m mildly afraid of the internet which is very silly but very real. because of the part of the internet i was “famous” in i was forced to see every single thing people wrote about me and at first it was super fun super cool but it very quickly shifted into people picking me apart for everything i did or said. then i started associating myself with my ex and his circle of people and it only got worse. their audience was welcoming at first but after a week i would see people call me annoying and a pick me on a daily basis. and this was before i got “called out” for some stuff i don’t wanna get into now because i feel like it has been discussed enough but iykyk. so when that happened people latched onto that and to this day i still get the one off rude message about it. and when people tried to stick up for me i was reduced to sex. which was so demeaning in so many different ways. like the only reason i would ever be worth defending was because of my “pussy”. like that was the only thing about me that mattered. and as a woman on TWITCH of all places i was already hearing that enough. it was even more infuriating knowing that my male counterparts had done so much worse than me and faced maybe half the backlash. and even then had their mistakes and behaviors excused to the point of them not having to own up to them at all. as a woman of color i was held to a much higher standard than a lot of my peers. i was expected to know everything and to never make a mistake. so yeah, i wish i had been kinder to myself at the time. because no matter how mean the internet was to me, i was meaner. at the time it literally felt like my life was over. i would go online and only read bad things about myself. it was such a small group of people though, but i was so chronically online that it felt like the whole world was against me. and it sounds dumb and self centered but it’s how it felt as a teenage girl whose whole life was centered around twitter, tiktok, and twitch. once a big group of us went to universal and i tried to stay out of as many pictures as possible. whenever a fan would approach us as a group i would always offer to take the picture for them because i didn’t want to be in any of them. my friends told me i was being dramatic but i was trying to avoid what ended up happening anyway. people quote tweeting the pictures and making comments about me. i expected every fan that came up to either not know who i was (ideally), or worse, to know and hate me.

madison also talked a lot about being paranoid about her personal life being leaked online and talked about and i felt that deeply as well. once on stream i accidentally showed my lock screen (a picture of me and my ex) for like half a second. then immediately after, i ended stream and deleted the vod along with most of the clips but people had already had seen it and a week later my ex called me up mad as hell because people were posting screenshots of it on twitter and he was not happy about it. people were speculating on our relationship and making fun etc. and i just felt so powerless. like nothing i could do or say would change their mind. now i realize it literally does not matter what people say.

anyway yeah clearly madison’s book brought back a lot of memories for me. it was honestly oddly comforting to read. i know so many people that have gone through similar things and it’s never handled well by anyone involved. i feel a lot more comfortable talking about it now and especially here because i know it won’t become a huge thing since i’m irrelevant now and this is old drama. it’s just nice to write to the void sometimes (you guys aren’t a void i promise but yk what i mean). but yeah i’m over most of the stuff that happened that year. my therapist is amazing and helped me through it all. and now i can talk about it without feeling any type of way. it is something that happened. and i am okay now.

in conclusion, i love madison beer

#rant #the half of it #madison beer

[ashtoberr]

ASHUTA IS SO COOL OHHH MYYY GODDD •□•!!!!!

Hi hi I loveeee your csm oc / insert ♡♡ THEYRE SO COOL Her lore is so interesting 💭💭 At least. The lore that I've seen so far is so interesting. AND HER DESIGN IS SO CUTE I ADORE IT SM 🏂🏾🏂🏾🏂🏾

I always love it when ocs break the "norm" of their universe (idk if that makes sense but her being a vampire when most, if not all of the supernatural entities are devils/Devil adjacent is so swag and cool and based I LOVE SEEING CHARACTERS LIKE THAT 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽)

Her and Aki seem so cute too :3cc I don't think you understand how STOKED I was to see them in the selfship tag. Saw it and ran around my room screaming (in spirit not in action) because YES !!! FINALLY!!! IM STARTING TO SEE MORE PEOPLE W/ CSM SELF SHIPS / OC X CC SHIPS !!!!

I wanna know all ur thoughts about Ashuta 💭💭 She genuinely seems like such a cool character they're so epic and awesome n cool n swag ((o(^∇^)o))

OMG HI!!!! IM SORRY I JUST SAW THIS Ahhh thank you so much!!! It's super exciting to met another CSM selfshipper!!!! :DDD I'd love to hear abt ur self insert omg I'm so glad you like her!!!!!!! It actually means a lot, she makes me really happy to work on :D

And trust me I will provide on Ashuta lore >:3 Here is The Food For Today. I didn't include art this time bc I have been eepy. I have ideas for long after this, but this is the general gist. I plan to eventually draw a lot (if not all) of this out. Here's her concept for her first appearance and mission (Chapters 14 to 20, or up to episode 7 in the anime):

So, after being found by Makima:

She is added to the team briefly after Denji and Power. I'm currently undecided at which point she should enter the story; I'm thinking about prior to Chapter 14.

Makima helps her find a place (up until this point, she's been homeless since becoming a vampire) near Aki's apartment, encouraging her to make friends. She suggests Denji could use a friend since he's similar to her (not fully human, rough background).

Ashuta believes that since she'll be on a team of devils and humans, she would be more likely to make friends since they should be more accepting, right? She shows up to the Hayakawa apartment with some food, trying to introduce herself as a new member of the team (and not disclosing herself as a vampire yet- Power can tell, but doesn't care enough to point it out).

Denji thinks at first she's friendly, but a bit too polite and wonders how someone like her got chosen by Makima. Power doesn't initially feel strongly about her either way, though she's delighted to meet Meowy.

Aki thinks she's polite (and finally someone easy for him to get along with on his squad), but questions why she became a devil hunter after a couple hours of them hanging out. She briefly explains that she's a vampire, and that her life was ruined by the Vampire Devil. Aki's tone quickly changes knowing she's not human, and the night is sort of abruptly ended.

CHAPTER 14:

She's integrated into the group with Chapter 14's mission in the hotel being her first (could be retconned later.)

She's a bit hurt with the talk of Aki and Arai not trusting "non-humans" and saying they don't have human rights, so she's quick to become very quiet since she assumed Makima's team of devils and humans meant she was more likely to be accepted.

Himeno can quickly tell that she looks upset and comes over to strike up a conversation, and the two make small talk throughout the mission. She tells her to not mind Aki, that he's just had bad experiences with devils. Ashuta protests that she's not a devil, but a devil makes an appearance before Himeno can respond.

Himeno discusses with Aki later in the mission that she's surprised Ashuta is so conscientious for a vampire- Aki shrugs and believes it's her being deceptive. Himeno goes to suggest he give Ashuta a chance.

CHAPTER 15:

Ashuta does bond a bit with Denji over the mission, both of them asking each other questions about their respective species ("So are you allergic to garlic?" and "Does it hurt when your chainsaws come out?")

CHAPTER 16:

In hopes of winning Aki's approval, Ashuta offers to help Aki hunt for the devil. She explains that since vampires don't really need to sleep much, she could help him all he wants.

Aki, unimpressed, asks why she's so hellbent on trying to please him when he doesn't care about wether she lives or dies as a non-human.

CHAPTER 18:

In the hysteria of facing the eternity devil, Ashuta finally snaps at Kobeni after trying to keep everyone calm the entire mission, telling her she's going to be a shit devil hunter if she freaks out at the slightest inconvenience. Kobeni yells back that it was easy for her to say, that she'd been calm and collected the entire mission because she can't die. Ashuta yells at her that pussying out and turning on her teammates made it more likely for all of them to die, and to shut the fuck up and help if she was going to stay a devil hunter. It certainly doesn't make Kobeni like her, but it shuts her up.

CHAPTER 20:

Ashuta joins the newbie welcome party. Denji questions how she can eat if she's a vampire, and she shrugs and explains that it's the same way devils eat- the only difference is human food isn't of nutritional substance to her and she doesn't retain any energy from it, she eats it for nostalgia purposes and the taste.

Ashuta lightens up when Makima joins the party, glad to see someone familiar- she considers Makima a friend, being the first person who was nice to her.

During the party, Makima asks Aki how Ashuta's first mission was, and wether she had done satisfactory. Aki admits that she did well, and Ashuta can't help but be a little happy at his approval.

As the night progresses, she gets drunk enough where she feels less afraid to approach Aki again. The two actually end up talking some. While drunk, Aki apologizes for the way that he had regarded her earlier in the night, and that she handled her first mission well, remaining composed in such a stressful situation .

Ashuta shrugs, and says it's fine- when she was turned into a vampire, she'd been shunned by everyone she once knew. She explains she still considers herself the same person she was before, but she fears rejection from humans more than she fears injuries from devils. He suggests she come stop by their apartment again sometime (more out of drunken guilt than actual like for her, but it's a start to them becoming friends).

#csm oc #csm self insert #chainsaw man oc #chainsaw man self insert #self insert x canon #oc x canon #selfship #self insert #chainsaw man #anime #character lore

[dragonmuse]

Lucius seems to have a thing for older men. In the main universe he mentions coming to terms with the fact that he’ll likely outlive both Pete and Izzy.

In the universe where all three are together, Izzy seems to handle it by being practical and making sure that Lucius will be taken care of financially.

How does Pete, in either universe, deal with Lucius being so much younger?

(How have I never discussed this? I am constantly surprised that I can cover so much ground and then look back and just see huge swaths of unexplored territory. It is a joy to create this map with all of you, just so you know!

To your question anon! This started as an answer, but got a bit ficlet on me so let's call it that)

Initially, Pete mostly worries that Lucius will just wake up one day and be like "who is this old dude in my bed? Gross." The longer that goes on with not happening, Pete graduates more into just being proud that he's managed to get this very hot young stud. He's not entirely sure how he managed it, but he's not going to let that stop him from fluffing his plumage abut it. (Lucky for him Lucius finds his pride about this very cute, especially as the years go by and it never dims.) What else is there to say about it? Pete is older, but aside from looks, Pete knows everyone would guess from the way they talk and act that Lucius had years on him.

Sometimes things will come up. Small things. Cartoons that were of the air before Lucius could watch them as a kid. Lucius will say things like, "Oh yeah, that election. It was the year before I could start voting, I was furious." And Pete will think Shit, I was 33. But that stuff comes up because they grew up in radically different places and ways too. They're not similar in a lot of ways, what's one more really?

And then Pete turned 46. Their relationship was six years old and they'd been married for two of those years. Lucius at thirty is even more beautiful, more solid and clever and kind. Pete still says 'my husband' with the kind of reverence reserved for angels and small gods.

It was a good birthday too. A group of them had gone bowling and Frenchie had made Pete a crown out of sparkly tulle and a boning meant for a corset that he wore all night. They drank enough to be merry, but not plastered. Izzy had even shown up, with a wrapped box of lures for their next fishing expedition. It was pretty great.

Yet, Pete woke up in the morning, and a tide of dread swept over him. Lucius was still sleeping, so Pete let him be, wandering into the living room. He didn't start coffee. He didn't go out to the get the paper. He didn't even take the couch. Instead, he claimed John's usual chair and looked out the window.

"Babe?" Lucius found him sometime later. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah." Pete shook himself, dredged up a smile. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Lucius frowned at him. "Hey, c'mon, what's up?"

"Dunno," Pete admitted. "Just woke up with a bad feeling."

"Something happen last night?"

"No, it was great. I had a good time," Pete assured him. He rubbed a hand over his head, the faint scratch of stubble around the edges reminding him it was almost time for a clean up. "I don't know. Maybe it was a weird dream I can't remember or something. You want coffee?"

"How about I make it?"

"Thanks."

The coffee got Pete to move. He sat down beside Lucius on the couch. Lucius was still just in boxers. There was a little hair on his belly these days as if it had just figured out it was supposed to arrive. Pete like that hair, had run his hand over it many times.

"I could take some time this afternoon," Lucius offered, rousing Pete's attention back to his face. "We could hang out, if you want."

"No, it's okay. I've got to finish up the seaming on that pant suit or Frenchie is going to murder me," he sighed. "It's fine, babe, really."

They wound up working side by side anyway. Lucius usually preferred to draw at his desk in the bedroom, but he declared the light in the living room was better today and Pete wasn't going to argue him out of it. Frenchie and John were on a buying expedition, picking fabrics for one of their choosier clients. It was nice to have company in their absence.

Without them, Pete put on his own music, pleased that he could do so uncontested for once. Lucius didn't care, too deep in his work to register much at all. On a whim, he chose an older playlist and hummed along to the music his father had always loved. Old fashioned folk and country things.

It was only halfway through the "Sixteen Tons" that Pete's foot fell off the pedal, stopping the hem midway through. The song fell into the depths, forgotten.

He looked to Lucius, who was tapping his lips with one knuckle on his left hand as he drew a careful arc with his left. The late afternoon sun caught in his dark hair and he looked entirely peaceful and beautiful. His skin was still flawless, broken up only by a five o'clock shadow.

Pete paused the music. It's absence registered more with Lucius than it's presence had and he looked up immediately.

"Are we taking a break?" he asked, rolling his shoulders back.

"I figured it out."

"What'd you figure?"

"I know why I woke up weird today."

"Yeah?" Lucius set aside the tablet and stylus. Still the same one Pete had fixed for him years ago. "Why's that?"

"My dad...he didn't make it to 46."

"I never did the math on that. Fuck, that's so young."

"Right?" Pete scooted over to bump his hip into Lucius' and was rewarded with an arm around his shoulders. "I have days, I guess. But I still feel really good. Happy. Healthy. But he was too, you know? Until that last year or so. What if that happened to me too?"

"You said he never went to a doctor though," Lucius reminded him. "And he didn't take very good care of himself."

"It was the job," Pete agreed. "I think it killed him, in the end. But...I don't know. How can I not think about that?"

"Guess you have to, at least a little."

"I don't have a will."

"....okay, so?"

"So," Pete closed his eyes. "I should have one. My Dad didn't and it was such a mess. I don't want that for you."

"Hey...hey we don't have to talk like that," Lucius said quickly.

"No, I think maybe we do. Just for a few minutes, okay?"

Lucius' mouth pinched up, but he nodded once, accepting.

"I'll ask Stede about a lawyer, he knows a bunch," Pete decided. "It's not like there's a lot of stuff, but I've got a little money saved up. There's the IRA. I want to make sure you get all that."

"Pete-" Lucius started then stopped. "Okay, babe. But only if I get one too."

"Why?"

"I'm not immortal either," he said softly. "And shit happens. You want to take care of me, I want to take care of you. Okay?"

"...yeah, okay."

And he'd go along with it. They'd both get wills written up, simple things to cover their few assets and belongings. They told John and Frenchie where they were were stored just in case which inspired them to do the same. It was fine. Just paperwork.

"You've got a will, right?" Pete asked Izzy. They were sitting out on a rented rowboat, lines cast and the day so beautiful, it was hard to believe death was real in it's golden light.

"Yeah. Changed it a year or two ago so Read can keep her place if something happens," Izzy didn't seem bothered by the topic, eyes mostly on the water.

"Oh yeah, she gets everything then?"

"No. Good chunk, but the agency goes to Jim. Few things to a few other people. My place and the rest of the money goes to Lucius. I figure he can sell it if he wants, but it's as much his as it is mine by now."

"I keep thinking abut that. I never really thought what it would mean in the long run," Pete admitted. Who else could he say this to, really? "I never realized that from the word go, I was setting myself up to leave him."

"Not like you're getting a divorce," Izzy was looking at Pete now, not the water. "We can't do shit about it."

"I could've found someone my own age like a fucking normal person. No offense."

"Fuck off," Izzy said without heat. "Anyone can die on anyone. That's just how it is."

"But-"

"No fucking buts. He's a grown ass man, he made his choices. All you and I can do is try our fucking best for him. Like everything else."

"Yeah, yeah you're right," Pete subsided. He turned his attention back to the fishing line.

A few minutes later, Izzy turned back to him, eyes flashing,

"But you better fucking outlive me, Black."

"Uh...why?"

"Because I am not dealing with him on my own. I can barely do this as a team. You die on me and I will dig you the fuck up and kill you again myself. Got it?"

Pete paused than burst out laughing. "Yeah, I got it."

He didn't really make it a habit of doing what Izzy wanted, mostly because the man was very easy to rile up in predictably hilarious ways, but he thought just this one time he might do his best to rise to the occasion.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #marry me about it #pete black #lucius black

[sophieinwonderland]

i havent read what the previous anon was responding to, but, to give my opinion, as long as you tag it properly, talking about psychosis, hallucinations, delusions, etc. should be encouraged instead of shunning the topic like most people do. and i think hallucinations and alters absolutely intersect, as someone that experiences delusional attachments and not being able to tell if voices are headmates or hallucinations a lot of the time.

-a very-likely psychotic system

Thank you!

This topic is frustrating and can be a bit of a minefield to wade through but I do agree so much that this is an important conversation to have.

There is way too much misinformation about these disorders and how they function. And the silence on the similarities and differences results in fewer people actually knowing what the symptoms are.

I hope you don't mind me going into a bit of a rant on this...

For us, we went through a list of symptoms to figure out what disorders we did or did not have. Ruling out Schizophrenia was obviously important. And we had no trouble doing that. After all, my voice was always a mind voice. Something very much internal. And our understanding of psychotic disorders was always that the hallucinations would be external in nature! Except...

Most voices in both DID and psychotic disorders are from inside. The psychotic groups (with and without maltreatment) were slightly more likely to report voices being entire internal, but both were about the same.

The criteria we used to determine that we didn't have Schizophrenia was wrong.

No, we don't have it. We're confident about that. But we aren't the only ones who have heard in the system community that mistakenly believe hallucinations in psychotic disorders need to be external.

And it's more than that...

The frequency of visual, tactile, olfactory and gustatory hallucinations is VASTLY higher in the DID group. It's not even close.

And both the DID group and the Maltreatment Schizophrenic group report similar feelings of being controlled by the voices.

What this study shows is that there are so many symptoms that are thought of as being associated with Schizophrenia that are actually much more associated with DID. And the differences between the hallucinations are often... not what you would think.

There are points here that can be very useful. If you experience voices as ONLY being outside, then you probably don't have DID since those systems would experience those voices as mostly internal or both. But that group whose hallucinations were only external was surprisingly a relatively small one. Only 28% of those without maltreatment and 19% with.

...

And this is a very touchy subject on all sides.

Some non-systems with psychotic disorders worry that talking about this could encourage "delusions" of these hallucinations being real. Which I realize could be concerning. I do understand that. But again, there are psychiatrists who believe that trying to ignore treatment-resistant voices until they go away is more harmful.

Then you have some psychotic systems who draw a firm line between hallucinated voices and alters... in these cases, because they likely have both internal and external hallucinations, I think they mistakenly believe that all psychotic hallucinations must be external. This, as we see, is a dangerous misconception with more than half of psychotics exclusively experiencing internal hallucinations.

And finally, there is a group of non-psychotic systems who just instantly view any comparison between experiences as invalidating because to them "hallucination = not real." Even though mind-voices of all non-fronting headmates are classified by psychiatrists as hallucinations.

...

Because of the discourse over this topic, the coiner of the term "hallucingenic system" was bullied and harassed until they deleted the post. That whole fiasco was just an absolute travesty, and I still can't get over it.

I firmly believe that we need inter-community discussions. We need to be able to build a framework for assessing our symptoms and experiences, and determine what symptoms are psychotic, what may be a dissociative disorder, and what falls into neither category.

Be mindful of others, yes. But we can't hide away from the topic because the conversation makes us uncomfortable.

#ask box #syscourse #did #dissociative identity disorder #schizophrenia #plural #endogenic #psychosis #hallucinations #osddid #tulpa #delusions #mental health #psychiatry #psychology #multiplicity #system #systems #plurality #system stuff #we don't have DID but I'm sharing in the DID tags because I'm hoping the information from these charts can be helpful

[felteverywhere]

here’s a plot wishlist of things i’m thinking about lately but would prefer to plot than write opens for. i’d also prefer to plot on discord but it’s not entirely necessary since obviously i’ll be writing on this account. some of them are kind of variations of the same thing but i think it makes it clear what kind of stuff i really love lmao. if you like this i’ll im you, but even if you like a lot of them it would be amazing if you could whittle it down to 2-3 tops. reblogging and messaging people when i’m online in the morning!

hot & heavy by lucy dacus inspired — the angst of your first love, homoerotic teenage best friend angst coming back to haunt you, bitterness and nostalgia mingling in the worst way, you hate her and you still love her after all this time. optional: period piece (70s, 80s, 90s, early 00s), a dead friend dragging them back to town, one of them is still closeted. 

fear street inspired — small towns where dark, horrible things have happened and keep happening but not everyone can afford to clear out, young people taking on a legacy of evil in the name of love, the truth of the past being unearthed, the loss along the way. optional: period piece (90s), we can run with something similar to fear street in terms of why the killers exist or come up with our own thing. 

college sleuths — a body found in a classroom or maybe an old unsolved mystery, a small campus cradled by woods and hidden from the world, a desperate need to uncover what everyone else wants to cover up, a righteousness or maybe an obligation to the dead, an eventual game of cat and mouse as they creep closer to the truth. optional: literally everything i listed can be tweaked, i just love the idea of a pair of people (even reluctantly) solving a murder. 

scooby doo inspired, college cryptid/supernatural hunters  — they’re the only ones who believe and maybe that’s okay, could be a mumu/could utilise npc characters if we’d like a group. optional: more of a buffy style scooby gang who are solving problems/include creatures in it. 

dark academia, the secret history inspired  — 

zombie apocalypse romance... with a twist on top of that — what’s more romantic than finding your soulmate at the end of the world? well, i guess if she’s also an unhinged person who will murder humans too, if they cross her. finding out she killed her last s/o somehow doesn’t phase you. basically: muse a has met someone after so long alone but muse b is a little crazy and they get into shenanigans. 

thoroughbreds inspired — unsettling girls forming a strange bond in rekindling a childhood friendship, uncomfortable step fathers, murder as a tool to solve problems rather than a ghastly act, taking blame as a romantic gesture. gifset for fun inspo. 

a return to the hurt/comfort fanfic tag. i’d like to explore deeper things while also dealing with the relationship between two characters. optionally but not limited to: grief, abuse (tentatively and with discussion about parameters), child custody issues, divorce, etc. 

this post but like no really, let’s write it. 

people who believe they are impossible to love pushing away the one who is demanding that they let them in!!!! not strong enough by boygenius vibes also 

an affair happening in a position of power, in a place it absolutely shouldn’t, where everything could turn to crap if they gave in but... they really can’t help themselves. people who are slaves to their own feelings no matter how toxic they are with one another. bad people being so passionately and deeply in love that it destroys everything. oh also this. 

still would kick things over for a normal people plot. i’ll never be over it!! never!! gifset for visual. shame and regret almost overpowering love but not quite, hurting each other, miscommunication, all the things. “i'm not a religious person but i do sometimes think god made you for me.” it should be illegal for someone to say that but jeez i am obsessed with it. 

someone truly deranged and evil and bloodthirsty and the only one who can stop them, but also the only one who can understand them. the only one who knows them. the only one who loves them? ah?

figure skating partners for carling i beg on my knees. fc optional i honestly might change her regardless. 

more song inspo without long winded thoughts: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine, taken by muna, holding back/crowded places/waiting game by banks, forever winter/tis the damn season/cowboy like me by taylor swift but also really any taylor swift song. 

#indie rp #indie bi rp #indie smut rp #indie lesbian rp #indie horror rp #should i be posting this with the state of my drafts? idc!!!! i do what i want

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Tips for Presenting at Conventions

YOU can present at conventions!

Seriously. You reading this. You can.

As a programming director for a local convention with several years of experience (and a lot less hair than I started with), I thought I'd make an informative post to help newbies join the fray and have some fun.

Here are the basics:

Know what you want to present, and get specific with it ("Vampires" is a lot less inspiring than "America's vampires: slavery, class warfare, and myths of antiquity." It will also up your chances of being accepted if someone else is presenting about another vampire-related topic.).

Make sure you're addressing the right topic for that convention (the above presentation would rock at horror or steampunk cons but probably not an anime or comic con).

Check the convention website for proposal directions. There will probably be a form. Take your time and fill out the whole thing.

If there are issues when the programming director reaches out to you, address them promptly. They won't be able to do much except drop your presentation from the schedule if you wait til two weeks before the show to explain you have other commitments at the time you're supposed to present.

Assume things are hellish behind the scenes and be patient and polite if things go wrong (I can promise things are worse than you think).

Come prepared. Bring the tech hookups your show director advises for projectors/any handouts/etc.

Engage the audience, but don't feel bad about ignoring problematic audience members. If the know-it-all in row three wanted to do this presentation, he should've submitted a proposal and done the work.

Have fun! And don't feel bad about a bit of shilling. Want folks to know about your website? Book? TikTok? Share it! If they liked your presentation, they probably want more of your content.

And now, my dears, we must address the "Don'ts":

Do not submit an idea for a panel (a presentation with more than one presenter/usually a group of experts discussing the topic) without having put together a panel. It is not the programming director's job to find panelists for your panel. It is not the programming director's job to contact your dream panelists and enlist them to your panel. It is your job. All yours. You literally signed up for it. It should be fun. Do it.

Do not assume that because you are friends with someone on staff and have discussed your presentation that it is accepted and on the schedule. Submit the form. If you aren't sure you did that, and you haven't received confirmation of receipt, email and ask BEFORE THE SUBMISSION DEADLINE.

Do not become the bully by playing victim if you don't get what you want (a time you don't like/room you don't like/aren't accepted/etc.). (This is different from discrimination, and you know it, so don't @ me.)

Don't complain about attendance/imply it is the programming director's job to wrangle people in for you. I have a friend who walked around in a sandwich board sign challenging people to duels to draw attention to his presentation. It worked a treat.

Don't claim you're only available during peek hours. Everyone wants to present on Saturday. No one wants to present in the morning. Anticipated hangovers do not count as a disability (there are probably presenters with genuine time-related needs linked to their disabilities - so don't be a twat). The friend mentioned above could pack out the largest room during the earliest time slot. Have something interesting to say and make sure people are aware. Then you'll have an audience as hung-over but enthusiastic as you are.

Really, though, I hope more of you get out there and participate in local conventions! Small ones are eager for new blood, and they're a great way to meet people with similar interests. Have fun out there, and remember the two key rules: enjoy yourself, and don't be a dick.

#totally not personal venting #conventions #cons #presenting #diy #local conventions #small cons #horror #steampunk #anime #comic con

[felixcloud6288]

Higurashi: Abducted by Demons Chapter 1

While I'm calling this a reread, I'll admit that my experience with Higurashi is a mix of reading some of the volumes and watching the anime. So while I know the plot of the series, I don't know some things unique to the manga. I'll probably make a few comparisons to the anime throughout this reread.

Since this is a mystery series, I'll be holding a lot of spoiler discussions throughout it.

This is the first chapter. It has the important role of establishing who the main characters are and what the story will be. If you don't know anything about the series, this first chapter implies the story is supposed to be a mystery disguised as a harem series.

The chapter establishes the setting is a small village where everyone knows everyone else, which makes Keiichi seem even more of an outsider due to him not knowing everyone.

The chapter establishes our cast, but since this is the first chapter, all of their primary traits are highly exaggerated. For now, we just need to know what trope and archetype they all represent. There will be plenty of time later to flesh them out and give everyone more depth.

The new reader just needs to understand Rena is the girly girl girl who really likes cute things, Mion is the tomboy girl who likes to fluster and tease the protagonist, Satoko is the bratty and scheming child character, and Rika is the cute and sweet one. We'll find out later how accurate and inaccurate these initial impressions are.

Keiichi's interactions with the rest of the cast is the bait to lure us in. And then we swallow the hook when we meet Tomitake and he brings up the murder that happened a few years ago. Following that, we see this is not some cutesy harem series, and these characters and this setting is not all we think it is.

And before we even know anything about the plot, we have to have that absolutely core item. We need to know what this story is before we understand anything.

The series opens with discussions about forgiveness. Frederica Bernkastel opens this story with a poem saying she will give unconditional forgiveness, but she asks what she must do to receive forgiveness. Following this, Keiichi hears a girl saying "I'm sorry" over and over. And he remarks that you should just forgive someone when they are genuinely sorry, especially when they can't fix their mistakes.

Higurashi is memetic for how violent and gory it is. However, that is not what the story is about. This is a story about repentance, forgiveness, and second chances.

As for some stuff in the chapter itself, have you ever played Old Geezer before? It works similar to Old Maid but you remove one card from the deck at random. In Old Maid, there is always one Joker that cannot be paired with any other cards. Therefore, whoever has it knows they are losing and the other players likely are aware of who has it as well.

So there's a certain metagame in Old Maid that Old Geezer doesn't have. Since you know if you have the losing card in Old Maid, you need to have a good poker face and be able to trick others into taking the Joker. Meanwhile, if you don't have it, but know who does, you should avoid interacting with that player whenever possible.

I recommend trying it out if you like Old Maid but have no poker face.

All the trouble in this arc began because Keiichi made a joke about Rena hiding a body and Tomitake took it seriously.

Some honorific uses I noticed:

Keiichi does not use honorifics for any of his friends except Rika. He uses -chan with her

Rena refers to Keiichi as Keiichi-kun and Satoko as Satoko-chan

Mion refers to Keiichi as Kei-chan

Satoko uses Keiichi-san

Rika doesn't use honorifics with Satoko

I didn't notice any other instances this chapter of them referring to each other by name. I'm super rusty with honorifics, but I think Keiichi's pattern means he doesn't feel the need to be formal with his friends aside from Rika since she's the youngest of the group. Rena refers to Keiichi as a friend. Mion does too but in a more teasing informal way. Satoko is not as close with Keiichi.

Keiichi also nervously added a -san when talking to Tomitake about the murder.

NIPA BEAM!!

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Spoiler Discussion

The big twist about the first arc is Keiichi is suffering from Hinamizawa Syndrome and is suffering paranoid delusions. Therefore, everything we need to doubt what Keiichi is experiencing.

In this first chapter, we have two incidences of Keiichi noting odd behavior from his friends when he asks about the murder that happened.

But knowing everything about this series, Rena likely really doesn't know about the murder that happened because she wasn't in Hinamizawa at the time. And Mion is being genuine when she said no one was murdered during their protests. The dam construction director was killed for unrelated reasons and he was killed a year after the project was cancelled.

Each arc in this series is an alternate timeline, but they are all connected to each other. And this arc has repeated multiple times across several timelines. The first page of this chapter is an abstraction of what will happen later. Keiichi will kill Rena and Mion with a baseball bat and die begging forgiveness. I think it might actually be a Keiichi from a previous timeline trying to reach out for a chance to make things right.

The Keiichi of this timeline got a small glimpse of it and he heard Hanyuu's apologies over not being able to stop him, but the other Keiichi's voice ultimately didn't reach this one.

Keiichi also lied to us at the very beginning of the chapter. He said he came to Hinamizawa because of his father's art job, but he didn't mention his own actions that made his father decide to move in the first place.

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#higurashi no naku koro ni reread #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi when they cry